#as for the other friendships I’m uncertain about there’s nothing I can do there

[whimsyprinx]

i think I just need to stop clinging to and getting so attached to people

[supernatural-bias]

𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬

↳ warnings: none

↳ song: hells greatest dad—various artists

↳ notes: this turned out way longer than expected. reblogs are appreciated

masterlist | commissions | carrd

• What you did with your spare time outside the hotel had never been a problem

• Everyone blew off steam in different ways. Husk gambled is days away at dinghy bars, Vaggie practiced sparing, and Sir Pentious dreamed up designs for his retired war machines. The important thing was that everyone knew better than to ask the other about it

• So your friendship with Lucifer never come up. At least, not until Charlie decided to invite her dad over one day

• You were well aware of the strange relationship you had with the king of hell. He was all powerful ,and technically your ruler, sure, but it was hard to view him that way after you caught him babying a small army of rubber ducks

• It had been such a long time since you’d first met him, honestly you were still surprised you’d remembered it

• Back when you still worked as a part time package deliverer for the UPS equivalent of hell, you’d been tasked with handing off a rather heavy, and rather odd shaped box. The label didn’t give an address, rather a small drawing of an apple with a snake curled around it

• It took you a while, and way too many u-turns, to arrive at a pair of tall metal gates

• An uncertain push of a button had been delivered to a nearby buzzer, and you briefly wondered if you had been sent on a dead end errand. Your boss liked to do that; said it kept his employees on their toes. You just thought that he enjoyed seeing the pissed off looks of returnees

• Nothing longer than a minute passed before you were answered with an overjoyed voice, sounding rushed and getting father away from the mic as he proclaimed ‘I’ll be right down Terrance!!’

• It was only when Lucifer himself had opened the gates to allow you in, that his face fell from an excited grin into one of confusion

• “Oh. You’re not my normal guy.” He frowned, looking up at you slightly. “Are you sure you have my package.”

• You simply showed him the address label’s drawing, and he nodded

• “Yeah that’s it alright.” A little bit of the enthusiasm he had shown at the sight of his delivery reappeared before you. It didn’t take long after that before he remembered that you were both still standing outside the towering stature of his house, and quickly invited you inside so you could help him move the package where he wanted it

• “So! Is Terrance sick or something? I could have sworn it was just yesterday that he was where you are now.  Or a few days. Maybe a few weeks. Alright it’s been a while, but can you blame me. Do you know who I’m talking about? Long horns, red splotches, and a weird amount of hands. He always had the funniest jokes to tell though— “

• The first impression of him you got was weird. For the ruler of hell at least. But as time went on, and you kept delivering packages to his house with each passing month, he just struck you as lonely. His house, while big, was always empty. You would go as far as to say that you were the only steady interaction he had. Even if you were technically required to visit him

• Eventually, you quit your job. It had been a long time coming, and you were looking forward to a different take on life away from packing peanuts and scotch tape. Yet, for some reason, you didn’t stop showing up at Lucifers place. And he didn’t stop letting you in

• “You know—“ The devil approached you one hot afternoon in his work room. It was actually quite cold outside, but the fire breathing duck in his hands had heated up the room something fierce upon demonstration. “If you ever need someplace to stay, my daughter has a passion project that she wont stop talking about. It’s pretty sparse in souls, and I’m sure she’d let you stay there as long as you went along with her plan that she has!”

• You tilted your head with a small hum that day, choosing not to mention the far away look in Lucifers eyes as he talked about his daughter

• “Sounds better than where I’m currently living.” You shrugged, handing him a spare bolt off of the floor when it rolled off his work desk. “Where is the place?”

• So you’d shown up on the Hazbin Hotel’s doorstep, then still known as the Happy Hotel, with a bag or two in had and asking for a room

• You hadn’t told Charlie that Lucifer had mentioned it to you. You didn’t want her to feel like you were only there because he dad had named dropped it, but you guessed that she had her suspicions. You didn’t seem very taken with her title as princess of hell after all

• You were there nearly as long as Angel Dust; the likes of which showed up in the room next to yours a week after the move

• That means you were present for the embarrassing news interview, and in turn, the introduction of Alastor as a new patron

• He had been annoyed by you at first. Unlike Charlie’s slight nervousness at his appearance, or Vaggie’s outright aggression, you practically ignored his spectacular entrance, save for a few quick comments

• That had bugged Alastor. You’d hardly reacted when he’d shown just a sliver of his powers. Your lackluster once over as he pulled the darling Nifty from a fireplace had given him nothing to go on. Nothing!

• “Now what’s your role here, my friend!” The Radio Demon practically sang to you on that same afternoon. He waltzed over to your position in a corner, and his smile thinned slightly as you barely spared a glance at him. You found yourself much more enthralled with the sight of Husk fending off Angel’s advances over at the bar

• “I’m a tenant.” You mumbled, looking right through him. You didn’t miss the way his eyes narrowed down at you in an unreadable emotion that day

• He took to annoying you for the remainder of his stay following his debut. With every day, he increased his pestering, and you continued to remain the same

• Neither of you made a breakthrough with the other for quite a while. Months passed, and he found you looking as disinterested as ever with his display of powers. At this point he was sure you were purposely giving him nothing just to see his smile crack at the edges. And he was getting frustrated, for a lack of better words

• It wasn’t until you’d wandered into his recording studio by mistake that something changed

• Alastor felt a disturbance in the air the moment you stepped foot in his little alcove. Territorial demons such as himself could always tell when somebody was trespassing on their land, especially when having as much power as he did, and you were no exception to this rule

• He materialized behind you almost instantly. His limbs were already beginning to crack and stretch in size, a glowing smile casting wild shadows all throughout the room as he searched for what was sure to be your cowering form as you dropped whatever item you were attempting to steal

• Instead, he found you kneeling to the side of his polished desk, blinking up at him as your hands sat frozen in the motion of flipping through a record basket. His record basket

• “And what, pray tell—” Alastor’s distorted voice sounded like an screeching echo. He wouldn’t be surprised if the rest of the hotel could hear it from downstairs “—are you doing here my dear?”

• You didn’t say anything for a moment. He watched as your eyes flickered to this symbols floating around him, then back down to his face

• “I was looking for some good music. Sorry to intrude” You eventually pull out of your weird staring match with him. Dusting the seat of your pants off, you rise to walk past him and towards the door

• Alastor’s mouth opens to say something, but stops when you pause in the doorframe

• “Nice antlers by the way.” You shrug. He doesn’t have to look up to know your talking about the honey structures protruding from his forehead. They really only come out when he starts to take on his true demonic form, and never before has he had someone compliment them

• Before he can get a better read on you, you’re gone

• Turns out, you weren’t exactly unimpressed with him. Just wary in your own way. It was a slight hit to the overlords ego that he hadn’t been able to pick up on that so quick, but he’d never admit it. Instead he took to your new attitude with rigorous mischief 

• Music and murder had been the thing to bridge the gap between the two of you. When Alastor discovered you were particularly fascinated by his time period, he laughed heartily

• “Why my dear, you should have told me you had such good taste!” He wrapped a tight arm around your shoulders. “What is it you wish to know about the darling 1920’s?”

• “Did you really feed your victims to alligators?”

• “Hah! That’s for me to know, and you to find out,” He said while flicking your nose. You just hummed with a scrunch of your eyebrows and wriggled out of his grip. Alastor laughed at that

• You wouldn’t classify the two of you as friends necessarily, but Husk did mention one day that the fact he didn’t kill you that day in his recording studio stood for something

• “He’s murdered demons for less.” The grumpy cat told you. You chose not to respond

• Everything came to a head the day Lucifer showed up at the request of his daughter

• He didn’t notice you right away, instead doing a little dance with Razzle and Dazzle as the rest of the hotel watched on confused. Angel tossed you a look and you just shrugged

• Lucifer eventually spotted you standing by the scrappy welcome table. With the same exuberance that you'd seen time and time again before, he hugged you almost immediately

• “Good to see you again too, Luce. Heard you were coming over.” You exhaled after he set you down. You chose to ignore Alastor as he stepped out of his shadows and stood behind you ominously. You could almost feel his gaze burning a hole in the back of your head

• “Ah so this is his majesty! You’re a bit shorter than I expected.” Alastor’s voice was a bit more grating than you recalled. His grip on his cane tightened as you raised your eyebrow at him

• “Uh, excuse me. Exactly who are you? Lucifer gave the overlord a once over, looking very bored as he did so

• An eye twitch

• “Why the Radio Demon of course! Manager to this very fine establishment, and a—!” 

• “Nope. Never heard of you. Sorry.” Lucifer cut Alastor off and smiled tensely from next to you, not sounding sorry at all

• It became apparent very quickly that the two of them didn’t mix. If a competitive musical number didn’t convince you of that, the way the both of them wouldn’t let go of your arms sure did. By the end point of Lucifer’s visit, you were sure a bruise or two had formed on your forearms

• “You know you should really come visit me more!” Lucifer adjusted his hat as he spoke, sending you a sharp toothed smile as he prepared to step out the door. “I’m sure you get tired of this hotel sometimes. Or at least the people—“

• “I’m sure you’ll find they are perfectly happy with their arrangement!” Alastor didn’t let Lucifer finish his thought. His shadows were getting restless at this point, stretching in the three of yours direction as if attempting to push Lucifer out. At this point Charlie and Vaggie had stopped paying attention to the weird power play between the two of them, instead talking about their upcoming trip to heaven together, so you were all alone. Save for two of your friends that were acting really weird

• "You know maybe the two of you shouldn't hang out."

• "Agreed."

[crheativity]

Hello! I'm not sure if you're taking regular requests, but can I request hcs for the Malleus, Deuce, Epel, Ace, and Azul finding out that the reader has a crush on someone from their dorm but it isn't them? The reader actually has a crush on one of the NPCs, and that NPC requites the reader's feelings. How would they react?

It's ok if you don't want to do this also. No pressure

-💀💅

SUMMARY: They find out you have a crush on someone from their dorm… that isn’t them.

WARNINGS: Cut-off swear in Epel’s section, angst D:

NOTES: why must you do this to me. I love these boys sm. how could you do this.

(Also, sorry for the delay D:)

There’s a hole inside of him that can’t be plugged with your friendship anymore. Almost everyone knows something is up - everyone except you. Around you, nothing’s different. He’s the same happy, goofy guy he always is. But the minute you’re not around, the smile fades, the joy is gone. He has zero motivation to do anything. And yet, he’s gotta continue being your friend. You don’t have a whole lot of people here for you. He’ll hide himself until he’s numb if it gives you the support you need.

“…”

He’s calling his mother, in tears, as soon as he gets a moment to himself. He doesn’t know what to do - he’s never really dealt with love before. His mother, fortunately, knows just how to soothe him, and he begins to move forwards and onwards. He distances himself a little out of respect - at least, until it all goes away. He doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable - especially since he tends to wear his heart on his sleeves. As soon as he can act normal around you again, he will, but please give him the opportunity to move on first.

“Hey, mum? …what do I do?”

He hated himself. Of course it wasn’t him. Of course it was another Octavinelle student. What was he thinking?! It’s just like those kids would tell him - he was slow and chubby and stupid, and that’s not counting the overblot incident, why would someone like you even look at someone like him? Azul isn’t proud of it, but he finds himself looking for dirt on the student. He’s not gonna use it or anything, but he needs some kind of way to cope, and throwing himself into his work seems the best possible course of action. At least, until his silly hopes and dreams stay shoved in the trash can where they belong.

“…those kids were right.”

It’s because he looks like a girl, isn’t it? He KNEW talking to Vil and Rook about this kinda thing was a bad idea - look at where it got him! Now he’s gotta live with the fact that he’s always playin second fiddle with you. Makes sense though - who’d wanna date a girly boy like him? Although, maybe if he proved to you that he’s the better choice, you’d like him instead? Or, maybe he could fistfight that other prissy pomefiore kid. He’s honestly not sure what would help him feel better right now. He feels very uncertain - like the world is both shattering and strangely familiar at the same time.

“I’m gonna beat his a-“

He’s sulking. You’re in love with someone else and he’s sulking. What is he supposed to do now? It’s entirely unfair that you are his everything, his happiest dream, yet he’s barely in yours - at least, not in the way he wants to be. He’s avoiding you for a while, locking himself in his roomm. The rain seems endless, thunder and lightning acting as proof of his bad mood. Sage Island almost floods. Lilia and Silver respect his wishes for you to be around less but think he’s being a bit dramatic.

“Malleus? It’s been storming for weeks now. Can you come out of your room?”

♥Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!!♥

[spatialwave]

V's All That

Chapter 3 || The Game

➥ Summary: Jayce Talis, the school's golden boy and a guaranteed pick for Prom King, seems to have it all—looks, charm, and popularity. However, when Kino presents him with the opportunity to win back Mel, his ex-girlfriend and the one who got away, Jayce jumps at the chance. The challenge? To transform Viktor, a snarky outcast who is as far from popular as possible, into Prom King instead. Jayce takes the bait, but he may have taken on more than he can handle. ➥ Word Count: 6.5k ➥ Pairing: Jayce Talis x Viktor || Arcane

🧡 beta'd by @spxllcxstxr 🩷 art by @wapimostosis 🧡 available on ao3

<- part 2. | part 4. ->

Two-twenty-five Pyke Ave.

Jayce stood on the sidewalk in front of the two-story house, an older home that looked like it could use some TLC. He was in an older neighbourhood, one coined Zaun, that he hadn’t stepped foot in of his own volition. It was unfamiliar territory but far from intimidating, yet it had left him feeling the slightest bit uncertain—no, nervous.

Though it wasn’t from what lingered in the neighbourhood, it was from what was behind that front door. The flickering light of the street lamps cascaded over his figure and cast an orange glow around him as he stood in place, listening to the sounds of crickets from the otherwise empty park behind him as his feet remained planted over the concrete.

Over his shoulder was his book bag that carried his chemistry homework, which he hadn’t needed help with but was the only excuse he could come up with in a futile attempt to gain Viktor’s interest. Maybe if everything went well, they would study together, right? Perhaps that would form a friendship or mutual friendliness of sorts.

Unlikely.

Regardless, he made a mental note to thank Sky for inviting him. At least she gave him a chance if nothing else.

After a few minutes of overthinking, Jayce eventually stood on the doorstep and lifted his hand to knock, but it opened before he could, and he was met with a face that made his cheeks burn red.

“Huh,” Viktor hummed, golden eyes narrowing as he looked Jayce up and down. He wasn’t wearing his varsity jacket; instead, he had a muted yellow crewneck with a puka shell necklace peeking from it and dark blue jeans that made him appear far more casual than normal. Viktor wasn’t going to admit the thought floating through his mind—Jayce looked good. Really good. “You’re early.”

“Should I not be?” Jayce shifted on his feet, chuckling awkwardly as he stepped inside the home and glanced around at the new territory, taking everything in, from the ticking clock on the wall to the mugs from morning’s breakfast that remained on the coffee table in the living room. In what he could only assume was the kitchen, he heard the sounds of two men chatting and laughing, wondering if Vi was there too. This was her home, wasn’t it?

A smirk grew on Viktor’s lips as he shut and locked the door behind Jayce, hiding the amused expression, “Wasn’t sure if you’d show if I can be honest.”

“Really?” His hazel eyes flickered to settle on Viktor, following him as he made his way through the house and past the kitchen. Curious, Jayce’s gaze bounced over, and he saw two men—one taller and broad, the other shorter and thin. Their backs were faced toward him, and they stood in front of the kitchen counter, either cooking or cleaning, laughing and nudging themselves against each other affectionately.

“Vi and Powder’s dads.” Viktor said quietly, looking over his shoulder as he led Jayce through the house until they reached the basement steps, “Vander and Silco. They won’t bite.”

Dads.

Jayce wasn’t sure why, but the thought of them made him smile. He’d have to ask Vi about it one day, given the fact he saw her more often than not. 

“Cool, cool,” Jayce voiced casually, eyes lowering to the steps as Viktor navigated down them slowly, step by step, with his cane in his hand. “Do you need a—”

“I’m fine.” Viktor was quick—focused, “Going up is difficult.”

Jayce was rendered silent, moving slowly as he continued to follow Viktor. The walls down the stairs were covered in posters from shows and movies he’d heard of but never watched, leading them down into a den that he could only assume was occupied by Vi and Powder most of the time. The moment they reached the basement, he looked around. Definitely a haven for nerdy teenagers. 

His eyes landed on a box TV pushed against a wooden-panelled wall with an old SEGA hooked up to it and numerous controllers, a couch in front of it that had seen better days, the fabric tearing in a few places and stained from years of spills. On the wall to its left rested a tall bookshelf, the shelves carrying VHS tapes, books and various video games. There was even a record player on the opposite side of the room, quietly playing a rock album that Jayce had never heard before. Warm lights strung along the walls and ceiling pulled the space together, illuminating the dim space into a cozy nook where Jayce felt at home—safe. 

“Hey, Jayce.” Sky chirped softly, sitting at one side of the large table nestled in the middle of the room, patting the empty seat next to her. “Viktor’s characters are good to go. He even levelled them up for you and prepared them with inventory, weapons and spell lists. Come take a look.”

Across from her sat Ekko and Powder, two faces that he recognized but had only seen in passing through the school halls. It was hard not to recognize them, both having rather striking features that were hard to miss, even for someone like Jayce, who hardly paid much attention to his surroundings.

He smiled, a silent thank you, stepping further and looking over at the two he had yet to introduce himself to, offering a humble wave, “Powder and Ekko, right? I’m Jayce. I don’t think we’ve ever officially met before… I see your sister a lot.” He directed the last comment to Powder, who raised a curious eyebrow.

She watched as Jayce took the seat to Sky’s right and to Viktor's left, who sat around the corner at the head of the table. It was hard to take him seriously because of one assumption: Jayce Talis was a popular boy who didn’t care about anyone but himself. That’s how most people viewed him, well, the ones who weren’t in awe over him. The ones who saw past the popularity bullshit, like Viktor. 

“You know Vi?” Powder asked, resting her elbows on the tabletop. She looked Jayce up and down, her gaze darting to Viktor for a moment as he slid several of the character sheets in his direction.

“Yeah, she’s dating Caitlyn Kiramman. Cait’s like a sister, so Vi’s been around lots when I’m at her place. Just saw her yesterday, actually.” Jayce said thoughtfully, looking down at the character sheets passed to him. Three characters—paladin, fighter or barbarian. His brows furrowed together as he looked them over, and Sky leaned forward, pointing out certain characteristics regarding each character, such as their feats and proficiencies. Words that rang familiar for Jayce but rusty.

Powder and Ekko exchanged a curious look. What a small world.

“You probably see her more than I do. She’s hardly home these days. Always sneaking to Caitlyn’s house after curfew or ignoring me at school because of her.” Powder droned, resting her chin on her hand as she waited not-so-patiently for the session to begin, the other hand tapping her long-painted nails against the wood surface.

Jayce half-listened, still following Sky’s words about the characters, knowing very well he needed to or else he would lag behind. “Yeah, I get it, though. Relationships can take over your life. There have been times I push people away because of Mel and didn’t even realize,” Jayce said, the admission coming off too easily—acting as though he and Mel hadn’t had a horrible break-up just two weeks prior. It was hard to accept it, and he often forgot.

Viktor remained silent during the exchange, focused on his last-minute preparations for the session as he set up the screen that blocked the player’s view of his materials. The mention of Mel grabbed his attention, and his eyes momentarily shifted to watch Jayce. The not-so-fond memories were clear as day in his mind: trying to pay attention in class but instead watching Jayce and Mel pass notes to each other, giggling and causing a disturbance, and getting away with it. It was annoying, and he hated how much it bothered him, refusing to dig deeper about why. He shoved those thoughts aside; there was no need to get worked up over it now.

“Tell me about it,” Powder moaned dramatically, “I think I might actually go crazy because Ekko never leaves me alone. The old ball and chain.”

“Okay, chill out. I give you plenty of space.” Ekko chuckled. His arm was strung over his bent knee, pulled to his chest as he sat back casually. His fingers held a d20, and he examined it carefully, eyes then focusing beyond where Jayce sat. “Thought you and Mel broke up?” He asked, simply curious. Powder was quick to nudge her boyfriend’s side for such an intrusive question, and he straightened up, “Shit—sorry. None of my business.” He mumbled.

“Oh,” Jayce’s eyes widened as everyone looked at him, including Viktor. “It’s all good. We broke up a couple of weeks ago. It was mutual. Totally mutual.”

Viktor’s eyes softened, noticing the way Jayce’s shoulders deflated and how he forced a smile on his lips. It was undoubtedly not mutual. 

“Did you pick a character yet?” He asked, looking around his screen at Jayce, unsure why he felt the need to distract him. He didn’t owe him anything.

Jayce looked down at the one character sheet in his hand that he’d clutched tight enough that it wrinkled: a fighter. 

“This one.” He said, smiling as he showed him the sheet like a child proudly showing their artwork to a parent, “A human fighter. I should probably stick with the easy character so I don’t hold you all back.” He chuckled, placing the sheet on the table.

“Hey, don’t sell yourself short,” Ekko said, tossing the dice back into the box off to the side. “Human fighters are just as difficult as the rest. They’re complicated. Right, Viktor?”

“No. They’re very easy to play.” Viktor replied promptly, eyes flitting to Jayce for a beat. He was surprised to see the boy staring at him with a smile—laughing at his witty quip. His cheeks burned hot, so much so that he ducked his head down and hid behind the screen. The last thing he needed was for Jayce to think that he liked having him around. He didn’t.

Right?

“You’ll do fine,” Sky said encouragingly, beaming at Jayce, “This is Ekko’s first campaign, so he’s still learning, too. We’re just here to have fun.”

“And to finish the campaign with no deaths, so don’t hold us back.” Powder warned, a smile spreading on her lips. 

“Aren’t you the one who got kidnapped? I wouldn’t worry about me.” Jayce jested, and Ekko erupted into laughter as Powder rolled her eye, though her amusement was obvious.

“Are we ready?” Viktor interrupted, looking between everyone as he set his hands over the notes in front of him—ever prepared and serious as his role of the dungeon master. These nights were his to escape, to forget about the real world for a few hours, and having Jayce around was making that difficult, but he’d manage.

The four players looked at Viktor, nodding. Jayce, though, felt his hands grow clammy at the prospect of starting. All he needed was to watch and learn, and he was great at that. 

Clearing his throat, Viktor took a few moments to collect himself, gathering his thoughts before slamming his hands hard onto the table, speaking in a clear, boisterous voice that startled Jayce. “Braum Forgehammer,” he said, looking at the newest player at the table, “A wandering adventurer looking for a way to bide his time as he travels through Faerûn searching for war and battles to entertain him. A few slain ogres here or a goblin camp there—but nothing seems to hold his attention for long. Yet, a lucky man, fate was on his side yet again. One night, he’s venturing through the woods when he stumbles across a camp.”

As Viktor spoke clearly, Jayce was instantly pulled in and engaged, unable to take his eyes off him as he stared in wonder. It was unlike anything he’d ever seen or heard before, his mind leaving the reality they were in and travelling to the woods like he was right there in the world that Viktor conjured so effortlessly. 

“At this camp are two adventurers who surround a fire while they rest, bickering back and forth as they plot to save their friend. One is a tiefling warlock staring into the flames and ready to storm the war camp that holds his lover captive, and the other is a halfling cleric pacing back and forth and trying to keep her friend calm so he doesn’t act irrationally. As Braum steps closer to the campfire, the flames illuminate his rugged face, the scars and his armour telling stories of the battles he’d won, but he steps on a twig, and the snapping sound is loud enough to rouse nearby attention, alerting the camp.”

Viktor trailed off his words, and Sky picked up on this almost immediately and took it as her chance to jump in, but her eyes widened when Jayce talked first.

“I approach the fire slowly,” he said, his voice shaky but certain, “and I raise my hands up in a gesture of peace. I’m Braum Forgehammer,” he looked at Ekko, “an adventurer searching for a battle to join and aid.”

Ekko perked up, leaning ahead and watching as Jayce raised his hands, much like Braum. He fell into the ease of role-playing considerably quicker than he had himself, and that excited him. He grinned briefly but cleared his throat and settled back into his chair, returning to character.

Jayce dropped his hands, looking down at his player sheet for a moment as he tried to stomp down his bubbling nerves, “U-Uh,” he stuttered, “I overheard that you have a friend who’s been kidnapped by a camp of duergars. I can help.”

Sitting back, Viktor watched as the group spoke to each other. One of his favourite parts as a DM was simply listening and watching the players converse, his mind growing with possibilities of where to guide them next. However, his eyes primarily focused on Jayce as he talked, his voice louder than the rest. He had fit into this game far too well for someone who he assumed had no prior knowledge of the game, but maybe he was quick to judge him. As he listened, he couldn’t help but smirk, out of sight from behind the screen.

“How do you plan on helping us?” Ekko questioned, his eyes narrowing as he sat forward. “What do you have to offer?”

“If you’re planning to storm a war camp, you need a strategy. Do you know their layout? How many guards do they have?” Jayce looked between them, “Two mages are strong, but I bring physical strength that can turn the odds in your favour. Don’t you want to save your friend?”

Viktor perked up, feeling his heart thump hard against his chest—entranced at the way Jayce roleplayed so effortlessly. With each passing second, it became like second nature. It was beautiful to witness.

“I’m assuming for a price. No one wants to help without coin.” Ekko furthered.

“Just a safe place to rest my head at night,” Jayce answered.

“I vote yes!” Sky smiled, “What do you say, Xerath? We’ll need all the help we can get.”

“...Fine.” Ekko agreed, his eyes flashing with interest, “But if you’re lying to us, you’ll regret it.”

Jayce nodded, “You have my word.”

Any fears and worries of this night were long gone, his chest puffing out as everything worked out in his favour. It was easier than he initially thought, and although he pushed aside much of his pride and shame to dive into the roleplaying without second-guessing himself… he liked it. A lot. His inner middle-school self was thriving, ready to take on anything that was thrown his way, and most importantly of all?

He glanced at Viktor and found that he was already staring at him. Wide-eyed and in awe—a look he’d never seen on him over their few interactions. It made his stomach flutter, wondering if this was it. Was he winning him over?

Viktor broke their intimate eye contact first, pale cheeks dusted with a shade of pink as he collected himself and interjected with a commanding tone, “As you all gather around the campfire, Xerath and Seraphine share what they know about the duergar war camp. It’s nestled deep in a rocky ravine in the caverns of the Underdark, surrounded by steep cliffs and protected by a wooden wall, guarded by two watchtowers that loom on either side of the main gate. This is where the guards keep a sharp eye out for intruders, and it will prove tough to enter stealthily. A bonfire serves as their gathering spot in the centre of the camp, and it’s there Miss Fortune is trapped in a cage.”

“Okay,” Jayce murmured, looking at the other two with a slight hum of approval, “Let’s strategize and save your friend.”

The group fell into the game's rhythm and continued plotting during the long rest, allowing them to roleplay and learn more about each other as Jayce dove headfirst into the campaign so effortlessly. As they bantered back and forth, Viktor watched Jayce more than he should, a repetitive behaviour he couldn’t control. As if to make it any better, he told himself it was because he wanted to ensure that Jayce stayed afloat. After all, it was daunting to join an ongoing campaign.

But he knew that to be far from true this instance, and that’s what had been so riveting about this night.

Jayce was too confident and charismatic—an unsettling amount. He read the room effortlessly, adapting to Sky’s enthusiasm, Ekko’s humour and Powder’s sarcasm as if he had been their friend for years. Viktor had been convinced that Jayce was another pompous asshole who thought D&D was for kids and geeks and judged those for playing. His nose upturned at the mere idea of it, better than it. But here he was, leaning into it eagerly, his voice steady as he delivered lines so smoothly, embodying Braum Forgehammer. 

Viktor’s fingers hovered over his notes, his gaze flicking between the map and Jayce’s face. It was mesmerizing. 

Attractive.

Jayce fought to focus on the game, catching himself glancing at Viktor far too many times and admiring how his sharp features were softened in the warm glow of the overhanging lights. It was supposed to be simple: get Viktor’s attention and win him over so he was one step farther in rebranding him into the Prom King. Yet, the longer he played, the more invested he became in the game and less so about the reason he was here.

He hadn’t thought about the bet since he stepped foot in the house.

The group settled into their long rest, and Viktor spoke once more—narrating them through their movements as they made their way to the duergar camp and took out the watchtowers in a small battle that hadn’t alerted the remainder of the camp.

As they crept further, it was clear that stealth wasn’t the group’s strong suit after several failed rolls that resulted in a chorus of groans. Braum’s armour clinked loudly despite his best attempts to move quietly, and Seraphine’s nerves got the better of her, causing her to trip on a loose stone. The remaining duergars were alerted, and suddenly, the group found themselves in the middle of a big skirmish that erupted Jayce’s stomach into nerves.

The first fight was easy and acted as combat practice for Jayce. Everything was beginning to feel like a piece of cake, but as soon as he saw the players and NPCs on the tiles in the middle of the table, he knew how tough the next one was going to be. It was strange how real it all felt, how each move he made had to be carefully thought through for his and his team's sake—it was like playing a football game. All he needed was time to think.

Stay cool. Breathe. You got this. A positive mantra that Jayce always said to himself.

“Roll for initiative,” Viktor said, his voice cool and steady despite the chaos that was unfolding. After all, it wasn’t him playing—he enjoyed seeing his players hit difficult situations. He looked at Jayce, studying his reaction and catching the nervous look in those big, doe eyes. He reached out, holding onto a d20 and passing it to him, their hands connecting briefly as a shared electric shock rushed through them.

“You got this,” Ekko said, his eyes bright. They all watched in awe as Jayce took the first roll.

The fight was brutal, with Sky and Ekko holding their own until they were struck down by the barbarian warlord. Viktor’s narration became urgent after each turn, wide eyes landing on Jayce, “Xerath and Seraphine collapse after a heavy strike from the warlord’s great-axe. Braum stands alone on the battlefield with two remaining enemies…” he leaned closer to Jayce, “what is his next move?”

Jayce skimmed his player sheet, his eyes catching on to a feat marked in bold: Great Weapon Master. His hand hovered over his dice as he weighed his options, clammy as his nerves shot up. The warlord and his final mage loomed on the battlefield, the final obstacle between him and rescuing Miss Fortune—but they were both at half health. He could do it.

“I’m going to use Great Weapon Master!” He declared proudly, his voice exuding confidence as he read the words on his sheet. “I’ll take the negative five to hit for a shot at extra damage.”

Viktor’s eyebrows lifted in approval, smirking. “Bold move. Roll to hit.”

Jayce’s heart pounded as he tossed the d20 onto the table. Time seemed to slow as it spun and clattered to a stop. His eyes widened as he saw the result.

“Nat 20!” he shouted, his grin breaking through any remaining nerves.

The room erupted with cheers, Sky and Ekko clapping in their seats despite their characters’ unconscious states, and Powder shouting along in character as Miss Fortune, encouraging Jayce to save her. 

Viktor’s lips quirked into a faint smile. “A critical hit. Roll for damage.”

Jayce grabbed his dice and rolled for the damage. The additional plus ten to damage turned his attack into a devastating blow against the warlord.

Viktor leaned forward, standing now as he peered over the table, grabbed at the piece representing the warlord, and flicked it away. “Your greatsword slices through the warlord’s armour, carving deep into his chest. Blood sprays as the duergar lets out a guttural roar before collapsing to his knees, lifeless and defeated.”

“And now,” Jayce said, eyes watching Viktor, “I’ll use the bonus action from Great Weapon Master to attack the caster.”

Viktor inclined his head, gesturing to the dice. “Go ahead. Roll to hit.”

The dice clattered again, and though the roll wasn’t perfect, it was enough to hit, and the damage roll was even higher. Viktor described the scene, eyes wide and smiling greatly. “Your blade cleaves through the air, landing a fatal blow against the spellcaster’s chest. She crumples to the ground, leaving the camp silent and still. The battle is conquered by Braum Forgehammer.”

“Yes!” Jayce exclaimed, a fist in the air as he celebrated and stood to cheer, his chair flying back to the floor. Ekko and Sky both cheered for the victory that had been looking too much like devastation for their liking. Viktor smiled from behind the screen as he sat back down and cleared his throat, regaining their attention.

“I’m still trapped!” Powder interjected dramatically, hands slamming onto the table.

Once Miss Fortune was rescued and they had gone through with a final long rest, Viktor ended the session—much to Powder’s dismay. A few complaints were thrown at the others, but Ekko reminded her that she should avoid getting kidnapped if she wanted to be involved. 

“I know what I’m doing.” Powder chastised him, stuffing her dice into a purple pouch that she tucked into her tote bag.

“It was incredible playing with you, Jayce. You’re a natural.” Sky said, redirecting the conversation as she strung her messenger back over her shoulders, “You’ll get to meet Mylo and Claggor next time. It’ll be great.”

He perked up—next time?

“Hey, can you give us a ride, Sky?” Powder asked, jumping to her feet and slipping her hand into Ekko’s, “We’re going to go check out the late showing of Hellboy tonight.”

“That’s tonight?” Ekko asked, puzzled. “Then why are you complaining about us ending the session?”

“Shush,” she chided, “Let me complain.”

“I have to give Viktor a ride, sorry—” Sky started.

“Take them. It’s fine,” Viktor said, folding his screen, “You can drive me home, can’t you?” His eyes landed on Jayce, amber boring into hazel.

Jayce’s heart erupted into hot flames, and his stomach churned wildly as he stared at Viktor. He couldn’t believe it, and all he could do was nod. 

“Sweet, thanks, Sky. You’re the best,” Powder chimed happily, her attention turning to Jayce and Viktor. Stay as long as you want. Vander and Silco don’t mind. Just let them know when you’re leaving.” Her attention returned to Ekko as she tugged him along, and Skye followed. “Come on! I don’t want to be late like last time. I like the previews.”

“See you later,” Jayce said warmly as he lifted his chair back to its feet, waving at the three that disappeared from their view and leaving him alone with Viktor. He’d returned to packing his belongings together into an organized pile at the head of the table, which he then covered with the folded screen.

There was silence growing between the two as Jayce stared, lips thinned together awkwardly, and then he forced his gaze to bounce around the room to find anything else to focus his attention on. He found a particular Lord of the Rings poster intriguing, one that was just a picture of that devastatingly beautiful elf—what was his name again? It was on the tip of his tongue.

“Do you have a crush on Orlando Bloom?” Viktor’s voice shattered through Jayce’s concentration, and his eyes flew back to him.

“What? No—” Jayce stammered, brows furrowing together.

Viktor smirked, looking between Jayce’s eyes. He leaned against the table, fingers playing with a d4 die. “I’m kidding,” he murmured, noticing how nervous Jayce seemed. He wondered where that charisma and confidence had vanished to now that they were alone, his heart thumping at the prospect of Jayce being nervous because of him. Maybe it was wishful thinking.

Even then, why would Viktor want that? It’s not like he liked Jayce, right?

“You’ve played before, haven’t you?” He questioned, the faint sound of Queens of the Stone Age playing from the record player, an album he brought from his own home and kept there. 

Jayce shook his head, fingers smoothing against the player sheet he kept in front of him, “Nope.”

“Are you serious?” Viktor narrowed his eyes, “You’re lying.”

“I’m not,” Jayce said, chuckling in exasperation, “Cross my heart and hope to die. I’ve never played before.”

“I don’t believe you.” 

Jayce watched Viktor, their gaze tense as the other waited for an explanation. It’s not like Viktor was wrong for his disbelief; most new players came into their first games anxious and asking many more questions than he had. It was strange, considering he had guided through first-time players many times.

“Okay, you want the real answer?” Jayce said, dropping his gaze as his cheeks burned red with embarrassment, “I’ve never played but always wanted to. My mom bought me the player's handbook when I was in middle school, and I read it probably more than ten times.”

Viktor’s eyes widened, and he couldn’t fight back the smile on his lips, “Jayce Talis is a closeted geek? Shocking news.”

“Don’t say it like that,” he groaned in response, “I never had any friends who wanted to play, so I gave it up. That’s all.”

“That’s actually a bit sad, don’t you think?” Viktor murmured, placing the die back onto the surface and pressing the pad of his middle finger atop the softened point on the d3. “Let me guess, you told your friends about it, and they said it was a game for nerds, so you hid the book away and forgot it existed.”

Jayce was silenced, lips twitching as he looked over the player sheet, reading the scribbled handwriting that he could only assume was Viktor’s. He clicked his tongue, hazel eyes returning back up to those golden eyes that no longer intimidated him, “You’re really perceptive. Has anyone ever told you that?”

“Hm,” Viktor shrugged, “Once or twice. Maybe a handful of times.”

Another laugh bubbled up from Jayce’s throat, and Viktor hated the way his body responded. A stomach stirring with butterflies, unable to fight back the smile that mirrored his—it was a pain, really. Mere hours ago, he was wondering how he could embarrass Jayce during the game and put him in his place like he felt he deserved to be.

And here he was, laughing with him. Maybe he wasn’t so bad.

“When you say it out loud like that, it makes me sound like a coward,” Jayce said through gentle laughter, shaking his head as he leaned back on his chair with arms crossed over his chest. His eyes remained fixated on the man in front of him, who was staring right back.

“Well, if the shoe fits,” Viktor replied casually, eyes glistening with mischief.

“Ouch. You really know how to hurt a guy’s feelings.” Jayce laughed, revealing that damn tooth gap that forced Viktor to look away. There were too many thoughts swirling around his head that he couldn’t bear to revel in because there was no way in hell he should be thinking the one thing that was like admitting defeat—that he was most definitely attracted to Jayce. 

“Mmh,” Viktor hummed, grabbing his bag and rising to his feet, unable to sit there and chat any longer, “Kindness isn’t my strong suit. I prefer harsh words.”

Jayce followed his movements, pushing the chair back over the well-worn rug and standing up, his backpack stringing over his shoulder. The chemistry homework was long forgotten, and he was ready to follow Viktor blindly.

“I would say you’re kinder than you think you are, but if it weren’t for Sky, I wouldn’t be here tonight, so…” Jayce trailed off, looking down at Viktor as they stood—towering over his smaller stature. Easily six inches taller, give or take.

Viktor looked up at Jayce, unmoving from his spot, as he leaned on his cane. There were thousands of thoughts running through his head that he wanted to throw at him, to find answers about why he was even here in the first place. He wasn’t blind to Jayce’s natural intelligence, seeing how he passed through each of their shared classes with flying colours, likely all of his classes. If he needed help with his chemistry homework, which was highly unlikely, why would he ask him of all people?

There were far more reliable people who ran in his circle. Hell, Caitlyn Kiramman could help him, no? Even if she was younger, she already had the intellect to jump into an Ivy League.

Surprisingly, Viktor bit his tongue. Holding back the questions he desperately wanted to ask, all because he was curious. Maybe Sky was right with what she had told him earlier while they were setting up.

“Jayce Talis wants to hang out with you. Just see where it goes! You have to be the slightest bit curious, right?”

Of course, she was right.

“I’m glad you came,” Viktor murmured, “I… had fun.”

“Me too,” Jayce replied earnestly, his expression brightening, “Do you think I could come to the next session?”

The two boys stared at each other, the music in the background serving as the soundtrack to their thoughts. Viktor didn’t answer yet, stuck in place as he found himself getting lost in those hazel eyes that sparkled, flecks of gold swirling through the irises he wanted to get a better look at. All the while, Jayce stared back into his golden ones, wondering how many shades of yellow he could count if he was given the chance.

Then, Viktor replied. Breaking yet another bout of silence.

“Drive me home, then I’ll decide.” He answered, his voice raspy as he turned away. His eyes were wide, heart pounding in his ears as he berated himself. No more of that. No more staring into those goddamned eyes.

“Yeah, for sure,” Jayce perked up, following Viktor and chewing on the inside of his cheek as his mind reeled with thoughts that he’d never had before. Thoughts he wanted to shove deep down. 

They both remained quiet, trying to forget the moment they shared as they slowly ascended the stairs. Jayce stuck close behind, remembering Viktor’s words about it being worse going up the stairs, so he watched carefully. Eyes watching each step that Viktor took, leaning on the railing with one hand and his cane with the other.

“Sorry,” Viktor mumbled as they reached the top, cheeks burning red.

“For what?” Jayce furrowed his eyebrows and readjusted the strap over his shoulder as he reached the first level.

“I tend to hold up the pace a lot.” He said, avoiding his gaze as he led Jayce back through the house, moving through each twist and turn of the halls.

“It’s okay, you can’t help it,” Jayce said thoughtfully, eyes flickering up when they entered the living room where Vander and Silco sat in the armchair and sofa, respectively, as they watched an episode MASH. “Oh—hey. Jayce Talis.” He said, stepping forward and extending his hand out to them one by one with a big smile, “I’m a friend of Viktor’s.”

Viktor hadn’t even recovered from Jayce’s kind words before he was hit with that—his friend?

“Vander. Nice to meet you, kid,” Vander’s deep voice rumbled. He smiled to himself as he leaned back on the armchair, legs kicked up over a wooden ottoman. He puffed on a pipe, the smoke bellowing above him, while Silco drank from a whiskey glass, “Guess we’ll be seeing you around more often?”

“A friend of Viktor’s is a friend of ours,” Silco smiled warmly, raising his drink to Jayce, the dark liquid sloshing around the glass. “You’re welcome here anytime, Jayce.”

“Sweet, thanks.” Jayce grinned, flashing that stupid charismatic smile that made Viktor weak in the knees at the mere sight of it. “I’ll see you around.”

“Goodnight,” Viktor added, nodding to them before he led the way out of the house, relishing in the cool night air that helped reduce the heat sweltering his body. He couldn’t wait to get home, already regretting asking Jayce to drive him, but ten blocks of walking wasn’t in the cards, not when his leg ached.

“You hear that? I’m allowed to come whenever I want.” Jayce teased, stepping into Viktor’s pace as they walked down the overgrown concrete path, weeds breaking through each cement block in the ground, “So, I guess I’ll be seeing you next session.”

Viktor scoffed, rolling his eyes, “Don’t get excited. They say that to everyone.”

Jayce fished his keys from his pocket, unlocking his Jeep parked in front of the house. Viktor watched as the headlights flashed several times. He held back a teasing remark about his choice of vehicle, which was much less humble than what most teenagers drove.

“No offence, but I doubt any of you bring over new people a lot.” Jayce teased, and Viktor flashed a look at him, surprised at the dig of his character. 

“Are you calling me anti-social? How dare you.” Viktor said sharply, smirking as he met with the passenger side door, but as he reached out, he was quickly overshadowed by Jayce, who reached the door handle first. The door opened, and without asking, Jayce helped him into the vehicle. “Thanks,” he murmured, glancing at him as he shut the door.

Once Jayce hopped in, he tossed his backpack to the backseat and started the engine, which roared loudly as the headlights flashed on. His hand snapped forward to turn down the stereo, which had been blasting a rather popular Jesse McCartney song loudly, “Shit, sorry. It’s the radio—I don’t… listen to that.”

Viktor snorted a laugh, buckling himself in as he glanced at Jayce, his face obscured by the shadows and illuminated only by the bouncing light from the headlights. “I wouldn’t judge you if you did.”

“Yes, you would.” 

“Yeah, I would.” 

It was odd how well they got along. A natural bond formed between them. As time passed, they understood each other more—their personalities, while opposite, fit together like pieces of a puzzle. Viktor, who was reserved and somewhat cynical of the world, was met with Jayce’s outgoing charm and loud optimism. They just… fit.

After a few short minutes of driving, the vehicle came to a slow roll, stopping outside a surprisingly put-together home. Not that Jayce thought that Viktor should come from a broken-down home, but—his assumptions of the neighbourhood seemed to be proven otherwise

“This is it,” Viktor said, unbuckling his seatbelt and opening the passenger door, “Thanks for the ride.”

“Wait,” Jayce stopped him, watching as Viktor looked over his shoulder at him, waiting. “I had a really good time tonight, Viktor. Uh,” he coughed, clearing his throat, “Did you want a ride to school tomorrow? Or something, I don’t know.”

Viktor watched him, his stomach fluttering like it had over a handful of times that evening. He dropped his gaze for a fleeting moment, then back to Jayce, “Sure. I’ll see you in the morning.” He slipped out of the car easily, his cane providing a stable source as he stepped onto the sidewalk and turned to close the door, “Goodnight, Jayce.”

Jayce didn’t have time to say it back, the door slamming before he could utter the words. He watched through the passenger window as Viktor walked up to his home, slow but moving with practiced ease after years of using his cane. He stayed there, silently staring in awe—his heart soaring when Viktor turned around once he opened the door, offering a small wave as the light from the home silhouetted his frame.

He lifted his hand in return, waving a slow goodbye until he was out of view.

Jayce sat there, silent. Staring—his stomach burning with desire.

“Fuck,” he whispered under his breath.

A/N: ahhh, this took so long but it's here! really happy with how this one turned out, hope you enjoy! <3

[the-blue-fairie]

Art by @shes-an-iso – commissioned by me and posted here with permission

Realization.

It is ten years ago and I am watching Frozen.

It is ten years ago and I am watching Elsa transform herself into her truest self, watching her spin threads of blue around herself, seizing power for herself – radical self-actualization.

The glint of Elsa’s ice dress reflects in my eyes as I watch Elsa strut into the sunlight – and I do not have words for why I am so moved.

I do not have words, but the shimmer stays.

It is ten years ago and I am choosing to become a part of the Frozen fandom.

I have lurked in fandom circles before, but never posted a thing, never made an account.

It is my first time being part of an online fan community – and, as awful as fandoms can be at times, this fandom – for me – ten years ago – is truly a community.

I begin to make friends in the Frozen fandom.

Some of these friends are trans.

The gleam of Elsa’s hair in the rose-gold dawn shines again in my eyes, and shyly, I begin asking questions of my friends.

Realization is nothing without the words to process it – and my friends give me words, my friends help me to understand.

I am a trans woman.

It is in this online space that I first take the name Liza for myself, since this online space is the only place that I can allow myself to be.

I build for myself. My blog is my own ice palace. What I cannot sculpt in daily life, I carve within online spaces – offering my writing, my thoughts, my edits, my soul to the world.

Everyone here knows me as Liza.

Even as I’m in the closet to my family for years, in here, I am Liza. My friends know me as I am, and as Liza is all they will ever know me.

But I am in the closet. For years.

(It’s why Do You Want to Build a Snowman still breaks me.)

In the closet more out of some misplaced sense of duty to my family than out of dread, though I am scared. Always scared. And then in the closet because I feel it’s better if I bury this. Not better for me, but for them. If I’m bleeding inside, it doesn’t matter. I can put on a show. I have fine-woven gloves. Well-taught decorum. Be the good girl you always have to be, etc.

(Maybe it’s my fault I’m in the closet for years. Anons on this site have told me that in the past. I don’t have it as bad as others in the closet, I’m just a coward, the fault is mine, the fault is mine…)

Fuck off.

(People blame Elsa for the thirteen years in the same way, placing the blame on her and not the tutelage that trained her, because her parents loved her, you see, and love becomes a convenient means of shifting blame to the victim.)

In June 2016, after the Pulse shooting, I make a post about how I’m never going to come out. I am terrified, heartbroken, mangled by grief – but my friends are there for me. My friends send me messages of support, of compassion.

I still cherish the memory of those.

Years pass. When I finally come out to my father, I can barely say the words, barely look him in the eye.

It is ten years since Frozen and I have come out to my family – far too late. I have been on HRT more than a year now.

(My dad still misgenders me when he thinks I’m out of earshot. He resents when I get frustrated with him over this.)

It is ten years since Frozen and I am Elsa on the North Mountain, staring into the whirlwind of an uncertain future, defiant and scared.

And I know – I know – that I didn’t process I was trans because of the film – it was because of the friendship of fellow trans people, trans people who happened to be Frozen fans a decade ago – but my journey of self-realization, my time in the closet, my creation of a sense of self, are so entwined with memories of Frozen that I can’t help but think of it when thinking about my own transition…

Can’t help but think of Elsa, hips swaying, arms outstretched, flashing, radiant –

Happy tenth anniversary, Frozen.

And thank you. Thank you.

(This is okay to reblog. In fact, please do. It is a sliver of my soul that I offer to the world.)

[wwereaderinserts]

What about finn x reader x damian;)

A/N: I'm not sure if it was smut you wanted or not anon but that's the path I ended up taking with this (I'm so sorry lmao) Title: Friendly Competition Pairing: Damian Priest x AFAB!Reader x Finn Balor Word Count: 1,650 Warnings: Smut, swears

Damian and Finn stare at each other in the heat of the moment, as though they’re simultaneously trying to register that this is happening and that they’ve both agreed to even go through with this with you tonight. To tell the truth, though, you have been rather sly with it all as the weeks, even months have gone by.

You’ve known all too well that both men have had their eye on you for a while now - just as you’ve been wanting both of them, too - and you’ve had them both eating out of the palm of your hand with every lingering touch, passing flirtatious comment, and fuck-me gaze you’ve respectively thrown their way that’s eventually led up to this moment.

The energy in the room right now is electric, a mixture of lust and pure excitement fizzling in the air. Damian and Finn both stand before you, stripped down to their boxers while you’re laying back on the bed in your own underwear, propping yourself up on your elbows as you look on at them both with a self-satisfied smirk on your lips as you revel in every single second of it.

There’s nothing wrong with a bit of friendly competition if it comes down to that, right?

“Oh, come on. Don’t look so nervous!” you giggle and lick your lips whilst ogling the two men in front of you, “Nothing we say or do leaves this room. Promise.”

You turn serious when you tell them the latter, and they can both sense the sincerity in your voice as they give each other a knowing glance followed by a nod of affirmation. They both still seem somewhat uncertain, probably more worried about their friendship drastically altering once the dust settles after this encounter, but their bodies react in a way that sends across a different message altogether.

You can see the outlines of their cocks through their boxers, both rock solid and begging to be freed, and knowing that it’s you that’s gotten them this worked up is enough in itself to make your pussy twitch and throb in anticipation.

“I’m serious, man,” Damian gives Finn a pointed stare, “If you ever try talking to me about this-”

“I won’t! C’mon, we’ll never speak of it. Never leaves this room.”

Finn reassures his friend, and after deciding they’ve wasted more than enough time when you’re sitting there half naked and waiting for them to make a move, they finally take the initiative and kick things off.

Any remaining apprehension seems to have now dissipated, with Damian smirking and sliding his boxers down while Finn mimics this. Both men are now fully exposed, their erect cocks standing at full attention to press against their stomachs while your gaze flits between them both, not knowing which one to focus on more.

Finn is the first to close the distance between you, pacing over to the bed to join you as he gently nudges you back to lay flat on the sheets. He towers over you, reaching out for you as he slides a calloused hand over a bra-clad breast and leans in to kiss and nip at your neck, earning a soft gasp and groan from you at the sensation.

Damian, however, is quick enough to sink to his knees at the foot of the bed, turning his attention to tugging your panties down and discarding them off to one side before he’s nudging your legs apart to expose your already glistening pussy to him.

He buries his face between your legs, flicking your clit with his tongue while Finn’s lips trail along your jawline before they meet your own for a passionate kiss. Damian’s skillful tongue finds a rhythm that soon has you panting, and Finn earns a moan from you in response when he tugs your bra down with one hand to free your tits and brush his thumb over your nipple.

“How’s that feel, hm?” Finn momentarily breaks the kiss to purr in your ear, “He makin’ you feel good?”

Words fail you in this moment, and you simply whimper in hopes of it being perceived as one of a positive response to Finn’s question despite the fact it may have only been rhetorical to begin with.

The room is filled with the wet sounds of your combined exploration, your moans and their grunts and growls mingling in an erotic symphony. Damian continues to lap up every last drop of your essence, leaving you writhing in Finn’s arms where you lay on the bed, but it isn’t until you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the precipice of your orgasm that Damian abruptly halts his ministrations altogether and rises back to his feet to stand at full height.

You whine at the sudden loss of contact, agitated that he’d ripped your sweet release away from you when you were right there, but you’re very quick to forgive and forget when clarity hits you and you lock eyes with Damian.

“Not yet, baby. Wanna feel you cum around my cock instead.”

Damian is quick to placate you. He stands before you, his thick cock in his hand, stroking himself while he gives Finn a silent nod of the head. Finn seemingly understands the signal, and he pulls away from you, repositioning himself to kneel in front of you on the bed instead.

Finn gently pulls you up, repositioning you on all fours on the bed instead. He laces his fingers through your hair with one hand, giving it a gentle tug to angle your head and force you to gaze up at him while his other hand languidly strokes his cock.

“Go on, suck it.”

He commands, his voice thick with need. You don’t hesitate in wrapping your lips around the head, suckling lightly at first before you start taking him deeper, eager to please him, and you definitely deliver. Finn groans and keeps his fingers in your hair, lightly encouraging you to take even more of him while he subtly thrusts into your mouth and mutters out strings of praises that you don’t quite catch.

“You ready, baby? Gonna put it in now, okay?”

Damian asks from behind you, stepping forward with his cock in his hand before rubbing the head along your folds, now glistening from your juices, and lining himself up at your entrance. He’s still watching you with Finn, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of your head bobbing up and down his length, taking him in and out of your mouth.

Finn’s eyes meet Damian’s momentarily as the two men look up at the same time, the fierce desire in each man’s eyes only serving to fuel their respective anticipation. Damian pushes into you with one swift motion, burying himself to the hilt with a deep moan.

Albeit muffled, a whine escapes you, the sensation of being filled by both men in different ways overwhelming you. Finn’s hand tightens in your hair, pulling you further down on his cock while Damian takes you from behind, both men’s groans of pleasure mingling with your own increasingly desperate moans.

You can barely take it much longer, trailing one hand between your legs to rub at your clit while the other darts between the bed and Finn’s thigh in an attempt to keep yourself upright. Tears of sheer bliss begin to streak your cheeks as the duo find a brutal rhythm, their lust only escalating as they completely lose themselves in the pleasure.

The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room as Damian relentlessly fucks you from behind, and your fingers dig into Finn’s thighs while you gag around his cock. Your nimble fingers rub deft circles around your clit, desperately willing yourself to tip over the edge at long last.

Damian feels it, too. He knows how close you are, and it only makes him fuck into you even harder, his movements more aggressive in his attempt to get you exactly where you want and need to be.

“Oh, you gonna cum?” Finn pants out, “Tap or squeeze my thigh twice if you’re gonna cum, yeah?”

He asks, and not even a full second passes by before you’re fulfilling his request. This only fuels Finn more, his own thrusts growing erratic as the head of his cock bumps the back of your throat repeatedly to elicit even more audible gags from you.

It’s all too much for you. The coil within you finally snaps, giving you quite possibly the most intense orgasm you can recall experiencing. Your walls clench and convulse around Damian’s cock while your cries of pure ecstasy are muffled by Finn’s, your eyes screw shut and you see nothing but hot, white light as you ride out your orgasm.

The feeling of you vice-gripping Damian’s cock is all it takes for him. He cums with a guttural groan, slumping himself over your back but stopping you from taking the brunt of the weight at the same time as he spills himself inside you, while Finn’s hot seed coats the back of your throat while his cock twitches and pulses in your mouth when he finally hits his peak, and you do him the courtesy of swallowing every last drop.

You slump forward slightly, barely catching your balance as you begin coming down from your high, withdrawing your mouth from Finn’s cock to finally catch your breath properly. Damian pulls out of you, slipping off to the side to collapse onto the bed to your left. Finn slumps back towards the headboard, both men's’ breathing ragged as they take a well deserved breather before you all clean up.

Though you’re all breathless and spent right now, too exhausted to fully register what’s transpired, one thing is certain - though nothing said and done will ever leave this room, it’s certainly not an evening any of you will soon forget.

[soulkeeper801]

Crush - Twice Sana

Requested:  May I request Sana caught reader having a crush on her

Sana x f!reader

Fluff

Words: 882

You couldn't help but feel your heart race every time Sana entered the room. 

Her presence was like a gentle breeze that brushed against your skin, leaving you with a tingling sensation that lingered long after she was gone. 

You tried to hide your feelings, burying them deep within, afraid of the potential consequences if you were to reveal the truth.

You found yourself drawn to every little detail about her – the way her eyes sparkled with laughter, the curve of her lips when she smiled, and the sound of her voice that seemed to soothe your soul. 

You longed to tell her how you felt, but the fear of rejection and the uncertainty of her feelings held you back.

In the quiet moments, when you were alone with your thoughts, you allowed yourself to imagine what it would be like to hold her hand, to feel her lips against yours, to share your life with her. 

But those dreams remained locked away, a world of possibilities that seemed just out of reach.

You found solace in the stolen glances, in the shared laughter and the little inside jokes that only the two of you understood. 

You treasured every moment spent with her, cherishing each memory like a precious gem.

Sometimes, you wondered if she had any inkling of your affection. Did she notice the way your eyes lingered on her, the way your voice faltered when you spoke to her? Or were you just another friend to her, nothing more?

You watched as she interacted with others, trying to decipher any signs that she might feel the same way. But the more you looked for clues, the more uncertain you became. 

It was as if you were standing at the edge of a cliff, wanting to take the leap but held back by the fear of what lay below.

You confided in your closest friends, seeking their advice and comfort. They told you to be brave, to take the risk and tell her how you felt. But it was easier said than done. 

The fear of losing her friendship, the fear of being rejected, was too overwhelming.

So you remained silent, content with being by her side as a friend, knowing that this unspoken love was all you could give. 

You supported her through her ups and downs, celebrating her successes and offering a shoulder to lean on during tough times.

In your heart, you knew that your feelings for her were real and true. They were a part of you, woven into the fabric of your being. 

But for now, you chose to keep them hidden, preserving the friendship that meant so much to you.

“You know,” Sana said, fixing her gaze on you through the mirror. She was putting lipstick on before going back to the set where the rest of the girls were. “I’ve seen you staring”.

Your heart skipped a beat.

“W-what?”

She got up from her chair and turned around to face you. “I’ve noticed your gaze lingers on me for a while before I look at you,” she continued. “And you quickly look away, not allowing me to look at those beautiful eyes”.

You gulped at her words, not understanding what was happening at all.

“I’m not really good at reading signs and as delusional as I can be, I hoped with all my heart that I wasn’t just imagining things,” she said, fidgeting with her fingers, “I even asked the girls and they have been pushing me to confront you for weeks now”.

“S-sana…” you breathed out, your cheeks burning, trying to decide if you were going to deny everything or take a risk, the biggest risk you could ever take.

She giggled. “I noticed the way you look at me, the way your eyes sparkle when we talk,” her eyes still on yours, “and when we are together," she continued, her smile growing more radiant, "you seem to light up. Your entire demeanor changes, as if I have the power to bring joy into your world with just my presence. It is kind of adorable, actually."

You couldn’t help but chuckle at her words. Everything she was saying was real, you felt embarrassed it wasn’t as subtle as you thought it was.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked, your cheeks burning as she took a couple of steps towards you.

She found you extremely cute. 

“I can tell you like me,” she stated, capturing your hand with hers and placing it on her cheek. “I’m just making it easier for the both of us”.

Your eyes widened. 

And she chuckled again.

“You’re so cute,” she said with a big smile, “I was waiting for you to say anything but I decided I had to step up”.

“Sana, I like you”.

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” she whispered, before finally catching your lips with hers. 

After a couple of seconds you pulled back to look at her face. It was happening. Sana liked you back. All of that time thinking it was a one sided thing, Sana was actually waiting for you to do something.

A big smile formed on your face as she caressed your cheek. 

“Kiss me again?” you asked in a whisper.

Sana didn’t have to be asked twice.

[lxmelle]

Gojo Satoru Q&A thoughts.

So these leaked early on X/formerly Twitter, but some of the Japanese are sensitive to spoilers (it’s rather frowned upon) so I didn’t have anywhere to dump my thoughts but here 😅

Spoilers for the GIGA special Gojo Satoru book ahead. (Only a few I wanted to comment on - I’m sure someone would’ve posted all 33 questions and the answers already 😆)

Apparently Gojo looks like he is a cat person but he probably likes dogs. Gege uses a lot of vague/uncertain language here. (I guess he’s making it as if Gojo is a character of his own right and not that he, as the creator, knows everything about.)

My HC: to me it seems, like on the surface, he may appreciate an aloof character, but he probably likes someone loyal and won’t leave him.

Maybe that’s what he is like as well; he as a “dog personality” would be doggedly loyal to one person and, uh, he has a good nose too. Y’knowww… Good nose … for sniffing out the specific cursed energy of his friend Geto Suguru, lol. 😂

Honestly, I’d like to think that after this life, they both learned how to be more sensibly and healthily codependent for their next life / in the afterlife.

So: Don’t let Geto run away again Gojo… Geto isn’t the kind of person you can just leave alone. 🥺

And Geto, don’t leave Gojo behind again, he doesn’t think you’re replaceable, so don’t think you’re unwanted or that you need to save Gojo & leave on your own again.

Gojo was born special and was both feared and revered in equal measure. Separated from his parents from a young age he likely didn’t know of friendship and companionship or unconditional love until Geto came along. He didn’t interact with friends because of his status / background. He was brought on missions and his education was pretty strict. Because he was clever, it was probably dull pretty quickly.

He was likely treated like there was always a barrier around him and that he needed to be nurtured as a talent/resource/figurehead without much love as a human being.

Geto was probably one of the first people to see him as Gojo Satoru as well as who he was as a sorcerer. This was probably new to him, and he experienced / felt it enough to feel very attached to Geto. His ease was shown in his carefree, happy attitude and smiling expressions throughout HI.

Gojo probably got away with many things in his childhood as he tried to rebel and have fun. Didn’t have anyone he could stand head to head / toe to toe with until he met Geto.

Gojo was wealthy. Had a salary too. And, very likely didn’t know of loss or poverty. The former, until Geto left. The latter, never did. My HC is that it made it difficult for him to sympathise with strife / struggling to achieve something... seeing as he never knew what insecurity could feel like? It made things more challenging for him to develop empathy. Further, as a talented genius who grasped things easily, it’s true that Gege described him as a talent from birth and Geto was more of a talent through hard work. Gojo could not relate to others until he experienced suffering and loss himself. 😢

His only complex was probably being unable to stop Geto. For the first time he wanted something but he couldn’t have it. To be given everything but being able to do nothing. Realised people have pride and wills of their own and their lives ought to be respected.

After Geto left, Gojo became more aware of his responsibility for the next generation of sorcerers. This was thanks to the wound... I guess.

“To be given everything, but be unable to do anything.” comes to mind - this is in reference to his DE unlimited void. Doesn’t it encapsulate what Gojo was? He, on the surface, had everything... and yet, it also bound him. Trapped to be this person that fulfilled a role. The latest chapter with Yuji and Sukuna touches on that. Riko’s life paralleled this to some degree too - treated as special from birth to fulfil some purpose.

Gojo probably only ever really wanted one thing and it was his friendship with Geto, but he couldn’t have it. He could not save his best friend. He was supposed to be strong - but it wasn’t enough just to be strong. Alone.

It is no wonder he had a complex. He hung onto remnants of his best friend for years. I’ve read some Japanese twitter users lamenting on how it’s strange to change their first-person pronoun just because a friend mentioned it. Gojo became a teacher because of what happened. So it really cut him deep to have witnessed Geto leaving and him being so helpless.

That’s all I had to say. Sorry for the abrupt end. 🫡

[yenalogyy]

Nakamura Kazuha | Been a while III

Y/N had been spending more time than usual staring at his phone, exchanging messages with an old friend from his school days. It had only been a day since he reconnected with her after the years, and their conversations had brought a touch of brightness to his otherwise gloomy routine.

That evening, he met up with his close friend, Han, at a local cafe. Han noticed his unusually happy expression as he stared at his phone.

"Why are you so cheerful today? Sus." Han asked, raising an eyebrow.

He looked up, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "I've been texting with an old friend from school. We're catching up."

Han's eyes widened with realization. "Is it Kazuha?"

He did not give a reply, only giving a look of surprise that he was able to guess it the first time. He got up, being surprised that he was right and celebrated with him.. "That's great! You've been so down lately, it's nice to see you in a better mood. Are you planning to tell her how you feel?"

His expression grew thoughtful, and he took a sip of his coffee before replying. "I'm not sure, Han. We've reconnected as friends, and I don't want to jeopardize that."

Han nodded understandingly. "I understand. Sometimes, it's better to cherish the friendship you have. Just make sure you don’t regret it."

As the evening turned into night, Y/N decided to take a leisurely walk through his neighborhood to clear his mind. He needed some time to think about his feelings for Kazuha and the uncertain path ahead.

As he strolled down the quiet streets, he never expected to run into Kazuha once again. She was walking alone, seemingly lost in thought.

"Zuha?" He greeted her, his voice filled with surprise.

Kazuha looked up, a hint of guilt flickering across her face before she quickly masked it with a warm smile. "Y/N, what are you doing here?"

He shrugged, trying to play it cool. "Just taking a walk. What about you?"

She hesitated for a moment before replying, "Oh, nothing much, just needed some fresh air."

There was something in Kazuha's tone that made him wonder if she was hiding something, but he decided not to press the issue.

As he and Kazuha continued their conversation, they decided to take a leisurely walk together through the quiet streets. The evening air grew cooler, and the stars began to twinkle in the night sky. There was an undeniable tension between them, a feeling that there was something left unsaid.

I can’t take this.

“Zuha-“ “Y/N-“

Both of them said the other’s name at the same time, as they looked at each other before laughing at the situation.

“You first.” He said.

“Okay. You know, it’s funny how we used to be comfortable with each other during our high school days, but look at us now. Being awkward and all.”

“Yeah… Can’t help it, can we? We didn’t exactly have the best way of parting with each other.”

“And I’m sorry for that. You know how my father is, right? Always making decisions on his own. I’m just afraid that he might make me come home at this moment.”

He giggled at the last sentence.

“Let’s just hope not. Because I’m enjoying the moment we have right now, before… you know.”

She could only look at him, not giving an answer. The both of them knew what was gonna happen, yet they chose to be in the moment.

Untold feelings were all over their mind as tension rises, as the next sentence he asked made it even more.

“Would you like to come over?”

[haechanhues]

chapter sixteen : lee donghyuck

S I D E : A

word count : 1k

warnings : implied sex. very suggestive. no hate towards cookies. A possibility of ‘i’d never wear that’ and kind of an implied body type but not necessarily.

After the whole fiasco with Na Jaemin, you felt next to nothing when your surface level friendship dissolved into a pile of dust. Because you had found a friend in Lee Haechan. A soulmate, maybe. 

You thought it was love when you hooked up on a tipsy night out together. Your hands tangled in his hair and the taste of beer on his tongue. He made you feel very special. That night and a couple of nights afterwards. You weren’t a stranger to his bed, but you weren’t a stranger to his heart either and it was of the beautiful kind. 

You thought it was love when he insisted you try the popular dessert place in town. You dressed up as did he and he paid for it. The laugh you spluttered after he put the dessert in his mouth and screwed his face up, you’re pretty sure it was a laugh of love. . You’re certain you caused a scene with all your laughing but with a forced polite smile, he led you to the grocery store. 

“Pick something,” Haechan insisted, cocking his head to the items in the aisle, “We’re gonna do some proper baking so I can get the taste of cream out of my mouth.” 

“Cream,” You laugh. 

He mocked your giggle good naturedly, “Yes, cream.” 

You reached for the cheapest chocolate chip cookie box, missing his judgemental stare to the side of your face. He reached forward, urgently returning the box back to where you got it despite your pleas of confusion and resistance. 

“If I’m gonna get dirty doing some shit baking, we are making something more than basic bitch cookies. Pick something good, c’mon. Think ‘food porn’ not ‘bake sale.” 

You thought it was love when he decorated your face with more icing than said baking and when he kissed you, making a mess out of the two of you with fluffy pink swirls of cream-like sugar. 

And when you had told him about Yuta, about Hendery and about Park Jisung, you knew it was love. Definite love. One that was returned. 

“I love you,” You confessed, four months after befriending him by chance.

“I love you too,” Haechan smiled, cupping your cheek and swiping at a stray eyelash underneath your eye. 

You didn’t feel like he was lying, because he wasn’t. You liked that you knew it too. That he didn’t make you play a guessing game that catered to him. Nor did he feel the need to assert it at every chance he got. 

It’s a love that remains and will continue to remain a love you can never explain but one that you and Haechan will just…get. 

He tells you about his friends, Na Jaemin sometimes included. He nicknames them. His friend with a lot of pent up anger was Grizzly, who Haechan tells you has been receiving a Haechan-special rehab in which he’s learning to be a little sweeter and to take his anger out on other things (games, for one). The other, Clumsy in which Haechan acts all cool about but in reality is very protective of him. He says that he’s someone clumsy and needs a lot of looking after. 

You think he’s sweeter when he tells you these things. 

He has a lot of friends, but Grizzly and Clumsy are the two you’re most familiar with and the ones Haechan talks the most about. 

When you had gone to get ready to go on a date with someone that wasn’t Haechan or anyone remotely important (you forgot his name and didn’t even end up staying for even three minutes.) 

You bit your lip uncertain, eyes zigzagging back and forth between the mirror and Haechan’s sitting frame, his eyes dark and appreciative. You were wearing a sparkly red, with a slight slit going up the side of your thigh. 

“I don’t know,” You pouted, picking at your flaws. 

Haechan sighed with a good-natured roll of his eyes, standing up alongside you before heading to your wardrobe, pulling out another dress by the coat hanger. You watch him, interested, before reaching out to receive it only for him to regard you judgmentally. 

“What are you doing?” 

What? 

Your chin pulls back in confusion, “Huh? The dress-” 

“This is for me,” Haechan scoffs, undressing in front of you. You try not to gawk at his body that you have admittedly seen and enjoyed for months now. In fact, you like Haechan so much you’re not even totally sure why you’re going on a date in the first place. 

Wait…. 

“You?” 

Haechan cocks an eyebrow at you, “Yeah, me. Confidence, babe.” 

You giggle, watching as he slips the dress over his body, before checking himself out in the mirror, “Is my bulge bulging?” 

Unable to help it, your eyes drop straight down to the area, seeing the imprint of it through the fabric of your dress, “A bit.” 

“Pervert,” Haechan narrowed his eyes. 

“You asked!” You bickered back with him. Laughter in your tone. 

“Yeah to check not to gawk at me and bite your lip,” Haechan asserted sassily. 

“And when did I ‘bite my lip’ huh?” You teased back. Haechan casted a faux look of disgust your way and you couldn’t help the way your whole body tingled with excitement. 

With the silence, he pulled the dress down and straightened out the fabric and you admired the way the dress fit him. Somehow you felt he could pull it off a little bit better than you. 

“Hey, don’t do that,” Haechan reprimanded, cupping your face in his hands, “You look gorgeous. Completely gorgeous. In fact, when you’re done with this date, I want to take you out in the same dress. Not tonight…but another time.” 

“I hope you’re dressed like that too,” You comment to which he grins before pressing a chaste sweet kiss to your lips. 

“Whatever you want, baby.” 

Seriously, you feel like you’re floating. 

You ask yourself again, for the nth time that night why you were going on a date with a different guy when something was clearly drawing you in to Haechan. 

S I D E : B

THE SERIAL LOVER

in which a girl farewells every boy she’s ever loved (or at least had romantic feelings for) in order to prove that her feelings for one particular boy are very real and unwavering. 

chapter sixteen : lee donghyuck

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taglist : @matchahyuck @haisuken @dinonuguaegi @replayenthusiast @90s-belladonna @scftharu @ahnneyong @liliansun

[walkingstackofbooks]

DS9 4x05 Rejoined thoughts (I’m re-watching, so beware spoilers for future episodes!)

[28 June '23]

"It's a trick!" "Of course it's a trick!" Oh, Quark 😆

"Painfully shy, introverted, a slight lack of confidence, just the kind of person who might want to dazzle the world with his magical abilities." - Okay, new headcanon that Julian is speaking from experience from when he was younger - he decided magic tricks would be how he'd make friends at new schools.

Interesting camera angle from Sisko's window

"Am I that dispensable around here?" "We'll never notice you're gone." I love their easy friendship and joking <3

"I'll be fine." That waver in her voice though ~

I love that Kira is the one who extensively knows Jadzia's lives. And I love how it really feels like they are all - even Quark - really, actually friends now.

The way Kira breaks into laughter at Julian's trick, I love her smile!

Kira's little touch of his arm, I live for platonic displays of affection.

"The Trill feel very strongly that it's unnatural." "Unnatural?" I LOVE Kira! Her outrage is just SO cathartic

"I don't understand how two people who've fallen in love, and made a life together, can be forced to walk away from each other because of a taboo." I know DS9 could generally have hit harder on LGBT topics, but this is Actually Very Good

"Curzon was even late for his hundredth birthday party." "You're never gonna let me forget that, are you?" Interesting that she switched from Ben's use of Curzon to "me" - highlighting how much she is the other hosts as well as herself.

"I'll be fine," she says, while pinning her badge on upside-down. 😅

"What do Klingons dream about?" I love Kira's gaiety and curiosity here

Hah! Had forgotten Worf's "Things that would send cold chills down your spine and wake you in the middle of the night. It is better you do not know. Excuse me." Okay I do like his deadpan humour.

"Quite an audience." "Seems a shame to disappoint them. Maybe we should do something." Their entire conversation at the party is electric

That purposeful look away they both do when the guy leaves them alone on the bridge.

"That's because you were a pilot and it made me nervous. Made her nervous. Torias being a pilot made Nilani nervous." The mixing up of pronouns - I love how complex the whole situation is allowed to be

"And whatever part of me is still Torias is very sorry and wishes he'd listened to you." - Lenara's nod of acknowledgment.. ohhh, I knew this episode was amazing but I'd forgotten just how compelling and emotional the threads all the way through were

"Would you be interested in dinner? I mean, I'm having dinner with some friends and I thought you might like to go along." I've never seen Jadzia this uncertain of herself!

Pffff Jadzia you made all that up about having dinner with friends?! You've got it baaad

"Something tells me I should say no, but you know I won't." Oh, Julian. And that kiss on the cheek!

Julian's so sulky, my goodness, what a child (affectionate)

Their chemistry is SO - JUST - Y'KNOW

No, I can't even, his little face is so scrunchy! I'm sorry ladies, let's go back and rewatch you rather than Julian being too ridiculous.

"Curzon would be horrified I'm a scientist." I thought Jadzia was a scientist before getting joined so didn't he know?

"The irony is, you and I have more in common than Torias and Nilani ever did." And that is what makes a tragedy 💔

Julian's complete startlement when he's hailed on comms 😂

"I think he enjoyed himself... Maybe not." You think? Especially if you were going through the highlights of your life he's already heard :p

Lenara just giving her the earrings!!! Like it's nothing!!! Like it's not deeply romantic!! I cannot be normal about these two!!!

"There is nothing going on, alright?" But you wish it were, don't you, Lenara?

Jadzia's so pretty in her gown and hair down (she's always pretty shhhh)

"I don't want to do anything to hurt you." Guyssss

Jadzia's brief touch to Lenara's face and forcing herself to take her hand away I cannn't

"I missed you." Oh boy the first time watching this thinking they were going to kiss? But no, and being disappointed but not wholly surprised, it's the 90s BUT NO WHAT'S THIS, they actually DO KISS and it's just so tender. This episode has my entire heart o swear.

I hate that this reasoning why Jadzia should stay away - that the consequence of exile would impact Dax the symbiont - makes sense (even if the taboo doesn't). And that Benjamin can sound so reasonable in trying to dissuade her.

"But I also know I love her, Benjamin." MY HEART

"If you're sure, if this is what you really want, I will back you all the way." After all the other arguments, thank you Ben, that means a lot. <3

Actually, no - it's weird that Dax is seen as a passive part of this decision - the poor symbiont who'll die if Jadzia gets herself exiled - but it's Dax who also, as far as I understand, very much has feelings for Kahn and Nilani, just as much as Jadzia does for Lenara et al. So Dax should also have a say through their link woth their host if they want to choose love over exile.

Jadzia's striding down the corridor to rescue Lenara (and others, ofc)

"I don't want to lose you, not again." "Not again. Never again. Never again. Never." MY HEART, DAMN YOU 90S, WORF WAS NO REPLACEMENT FOR THIS

Jadzia getting down eagerly onto her knees as she asks Lenara to stay. She's so sure she'll accept! And why shouldn't she be!

"Everyone is trying to look out for us. Protect us from ourselves." THIS IS STILL SO RELEVANT

"I can always come back later." I can't help thinking, what if she did change her mind a few years later... Maybe in that 3 month window between season 6 and 7? ... Why am I making myself sad like this? 😭😭😭

The way their eyes meet. Fuck this episode. (affectionate)

God, Jadzia was a wreck over that phasing-planet guy - what she's going to be like over Lenara who she's known for centuries? I just wanna hug her

This is just such a good story though, like even without the gay metaphor and actual gayness, aliens having dilemmas over their society's morality is fascinating, and the Trill very much so!

[tiredelirium]

D.1

Sometimes I want to write about how I feel.

Sometimes I want others to read it.

But most of the time I don’t actually know if I even want anything at all.

I wonder if people I know talk about me when they’re bored or even just making conversation. If they’re mean about me. If they’re curious about me.

I’ve never been very good at interacting with others in the long term. Currently relationships don’t exist for me really. There’ve been times I’ve tried with friendships and partners, but it never seems honest or real.

One sided might seem too harsh.

I know others have tried to reach out, but I’m bad at accepting that hand.

Even now, its 2 AM on a Wednesday, oh though I guess that makes it Thursday now, and here I am writing thoughts out loud on a Tumblr as if i’m making any sense.

To anyone reading this, don’t start to get the wrong idea about what i’m doing with this. (You know who you are and how you think.) I’m just airing out the hollows of my mind and heart.

People (hopefully plural) talk to themselves all the time, in different ways. Maybe their mind races a mile a minute and the only way they can think clearly is to speak out loud. Maybe they speak so that they can better visualise their thoughts as they do so. Maybe its easier to find answers if you speak out loud.

So thats what this is.

Me speaking out loud.

I don’t have anything going for me, that’s the truth from my own perspective.

Self doubt. Body dysmorphia. Introversion. Disappointment. Sadness. Regret. It’s all there, buried beneath a smile i maintain for my parents, sisters, nieces and nephews. Something I’d never show them because it would worry them.

Its funny, I only really started to notice the fake smile I put on for others when I started work, which I was late to getting too. Most everyone would call that a fortune, not having to work for so long, but it stunted me I think. I mean, my lack of personal skills is clear as day to me anyway, though that could be the self doubt talking. Silences in communication drag on for so long. Others try to fill the void but all I can offer is an affirmation, a made up lie, or a smile that feels so fraudulent I want to down an entire beer just to see if that brings up something real. Inhibitions gone.

I don’t want to disappoint others, but trying feels false. And that leads to not trying at all. Which leads to relationships collapse, or a drift apart so long that no amount of bravery could see me reaching out to close that gap.

Around mid college, a foundation year, I started going out with a girl in my class. We were kinda forced together by other classmates we were close to, but it wouldn’t be a lie to say I liked her and I considered her a friend I got to know over a handful of months. We were into a lot of the same stuff, some bands, some games, some art. It made sense to try going out, but the first move was made when we were drunk. A kiss on a couch in a bar at 2AM with our friends watching us from around the corner.

Then university came. We went to different places, having already made decisions and had interviews long before we started dating. She asked me if I wanted us to keep dating, and I agreed. I liked her. It made sense, despite the distance between the places we’d go. And it was far.

University had its ups and downs, though I had far more downs. The course I chose was mostly because I had no interest in anything else and was uncertain. Art is subjective, it always will be, even if you produce something thats sympathetic to the masses doesn’t mean it’ll sell well or earn a living. My girlfriend was brilliant at art, and knew what she wanted to make. I was below average at best and though I had ideas nothing ever came out the way I intended it too.

Distance was hard. But it worked for us. We made time for eachother, perhaps too much time honestly. I don’t really know if she made any long lasting friends in her class outside of her flatmates. I know I didn’t, but thats a me condition I think. We visited each other during breaks, whether it was meeting up halfway or one of us visiting the other, it was always great to see her.

But.

I messed up.

After university, I struggled a lot with direction. My final grade was nowhere near good enough to guarantee any kind of role anywhere significant if I’d made connections. At the end of the day my lack of efforts weren’t even good enough to matter and I spent the majority of my second and third year playing catchup. I technically failed that course. Because of a single essay marked by someone who failed me by a single point and cost my entire second year grade. An essay i’d been told by the tutor who helped me write up and review it had said wouldn’t affect any final grade. I spent the first half of my third year making up that mistake with extra work and my third year work suffered for it.

I came home. So did she. And I spent some time looking for work. I applied for art-related jobs in our area at first. Screen printing, editing. But never got any responses back, because of how these processes go now and because they were scarce to begin with. I didn’t, and still don’t, believe I had the talent to be freelance in any way. It was disheartening and so I started to, little by little, reduce those aspirations.

She got a job within two months. A retail gig, but in a store she’d have a lot of knowledge on the products for. She could start saving. Meanwhile I was burning through the money I had left from university. By going so far away from home, my living grants were larger, and my third year place bad been significantly cheaper rent wise than my second year one, so I had about £500. After a year and a half that money was basically all gone. Spent on split-payment dates with my girlfriend, birthday presents for family, and stuff I just wanted.

And still I had no luck on job searching, to the point she didn’t believe I was looking. I sent out applications every week to different places. Got a video interview, a civil exam, and a slew of “we’re looking for other people” rejection emails.

I started giving up. I saw myself as a burden to this woman who could go and Do Things with the talent and work ethic she had.

Thats when I messed up.

My biggest regret, after five years together, I decided I needed to break up with her.

For weeks we’d started drifting apart, my own self doubt and inability to communicate properly at the fore. I messaged back less and less, and we’d arrange to meet up less. At first this was because I had no money left I could spend, but thats just an excuse. I loved her and I hurt her.

We broke up after she’d just got off work. I’d said we needed to talk and she’d intuited. She’d already mentioned a break up possibility not too long ago. But that might’ve been my mind making up another excuse. She asked me to bring some of her stuff from my parent’s place and I did.

We were in public, after I met her outside her work and we walked for a bit to a spot nearby. I wonder if passersby were curious what was going on when we sat down on a bench rarely used.

I lied.

I said I’d fallen out of love with her. Used little things from our past as fake reasons. Her lack of trust in me and any intentions toward other girls, because I was a guy from her point of view though that may have been grounded in something else. Her use of recreational drugs in the past multiple times without telling me, because i’d told her I wasn’t a fan of it.

I lied.

I still loved her.

But I couldn’t find work. And she wanted to move out of her parents place as soon as possible, and moving into my parents place wasn’t an option for her, and getting a place of our own wasn’t feasible without savings of any kind. I was an anchor who wanted to break the chain so the ship could go free.

Excuses.

I broke up with her and she got up and left with her things. I stayed for a second before standing up myself to leave. But then she came back, hugged me one last time. It was painfully tight. I didn’t cry, or protest. Because that would’ve given my lies away. I just accepted and reciprocated, and then she was gone.

I don’t doubt she cried on the way home and maybe through the night. Maybe she was mean about me. Maybe she was curious. Maybe she didn’t care at all.

I didn’t cry when we broke up, because I was in the wrong. She messaged me, maybe a few days after, asking if she was still allowed to talk to me. I couldn’t respond. Didn’t know how. Didn’t want to keep hurting her.

I cried later, when she thought I hated her.

Feelings are complicated and painful, and I hope if you read this up to now, yours aren’t too hard to bear. I know it hurts. My heart still aches in the quiet of every night. I hope you can find comfort in the words that you’ll be alright.

And I’m sorry.

[thevoyageurmoteplass-writing]

Claudine awkwardly shifted the mug in his hands and tried his best not to keep looking at the ceiling. He couldn’t see through it, couldn’t see how Alia was doing by looking up, and yet somehow he couldn’t help his attention from drifting that way, just in case.

Soft footsteps on the kitchen floor drew his attention towards the doorway. Gemima looked paler than he remembered, but he guessed some of that was his fault. He could have tried stopping Alia from carrying on with everything as soon as he realised who she was; as soon as he realised the real danger that they were all in. And yet he’d done nothing because she was good.

‘She’s a good kid,’ he said softly, watching as Gemima moved to sit at the island counter. The fact she was now taller than him didn’t go unnoticed; a reminder that this was her domain.

‘She is,’ Gemima said fiercely, any weariness on her face gone in an instant. ‘I want the truth, Rich.’

A rueful smirk pulled at his lips. It’d been a long time since anybody had called him that.

‘I mean it,’ she said firmly. ‘Al won’t tell me anything and...’ She huffed out a deep breath, and Claudine felt the urge to hug her, to offer her some sort of comfort. But they weren’t at that stage in rekindling an old friendship. ‘She’s in danger, isn’t she?’

‘Yes,’ Claudine admitted regretfully. ‘She was in danger as soon as she picked up a magic book. As soon as she read from it.’

There was the barest flicker of disbelief behind Gemima’s eyes at his words. It was a testament to what she’d already seen, the toll it was all taking on her, that she didn’t argue his word choice. Didn’t question the truth behind magic being real.

‘But she’s good, Gem,’ he assured her softly. ‘Just... a little reckless.’

‘Oddly like somebody else I can think of,’ she said, a slight teasing tone behind her voice.

Claudine felt a small smile tug at his lips.

A floorboard creaked, drawing all attention to the ceiling once more. But it had been too loud to be Alia. She had to still be asleep; she had to be.

‘Rufus seems nice,’ Claudine noted, before carefully taking a sip of his too hot coffee.

‘He’s a good man,’ Gemima said, a slightly defensive tone behind the words that made Claudine cringe; he hadn’t meant to bring her walls up like that.

‘I’m glad you’re happy.’

‘Are you?’ Gemima asked softly.

Claudine forced himself not to look up at her, recognising the barbed comment as part of her defensive mechanisms. ‘Of course. I just... I’m worried about Alia.’

‘I know,’ she said softly, before they lapsed into an uncertain silence.

Claudine just hoped things would be OK. He had little doubt Alia would pull through this, but there was no ignoring the sliver of helplessness that had wedged itself into his thoughts. The fear that she might not pull through it in the way they all expected; that she might not be the same person on the other side. 

[janeykath318]

Mission: Marriage Chapter 2

Natasha twirled the ring on her left hand, contemplating her new status. She still almost couldn’t believe she’d gone through with it, and there was a lot she and Steve would have to talk through, but her gut was telling her very strongly she’d made the right choice. A few years ago, she would have scoffed at the very idea of marriage, but after the brief relationship with Bruce, she’d started to think it might not be such an impossible idea after all. Bruce had been a very good listener and very sweet about the things she’d confided to him, but he turned out to not be ready for anything serious. She suspected that Betty Ross had something to do with that.

She wandered into the kitchen where Steve was happily making breakfast, flipping pancakes with ease and frying bacon to the perfect crispness.

She snatched a piece and took a seat on the stool across the counter from him.

“Morning,” he greeted her. “Sleep okay?”

“Unusually well, thank you. And I see I got myself my own personal cook now.”

She popped the bacon in her mouth and gave him a thumbs up.

“Perfect. You have the makings of the ideal house husband. Is there anything you can’t do?”

Steve grinned one of his bashful smiles.

“Plenty. Hopefully, nothing deal-breaking though. I can’t sew or change your oil, and my laundry folding skills are somewhat lacking.”

Natasha chuckled. “I think I can manage to put up with that,” she teased. “My clothes organization skills are nothing to write home about and the only time I cook is when I’m actually trying to poison someone.”

Steve straight up laughed at that and she couldn’t help but smile. He was too cute when he laughed, head thrown back, eyes crinkling and hand clutching his chest. If she was around that a lot, she just might be very smitten.

“Good to know. If you cook for me, you’re trying to rid of me.”

His expression turned more serious and he leaned over the counter toward her.

“Nat, I want you to know if you ever change your mind about this, well, us……..I would face anything rather than having you be miserable. And if the accords get repealed or I get pardoned, well, you wouldn’t have to stay in the marriage if you didn’t want to.”

“That’s a lot of ifs, Steve,” Natasha answered gently. “I think at this point the chances of one of us dying are greater than us being miserable together. We may fight sometimes, but I could never be mad at you for very long, even when you’re at your most stubborn mule.”

“Same,” Steve admitted with a fond smile.

They contentedly enjoyed the pancakes for the next few minutes and Natasha allowed herself to revel in the domesticity of it all. It didn’t hurt that Steve’s fabulous arms and chest were shown off gloriously by the tank top he wore.

Afterward they shared dish duty and chatted about the monumental events of the previous day.

“You think word’s gotten out yet?” he asked.

“It’ll probably get out this morning,” she sighed. “I’ll have to brace myself to deal with Tony. He’s gonna be so annoying.”

“Definitely,” Steve sighed, with a shudder and a haunted look that said a lot. “Since he won’t speak to me I’m guessing that’ll fall on you. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she told him reassuringly. She knew how hard the friendship break up had been on both of them, even if they wouldn’t admit it. “I’m used to handling him and if he still misbehaves, I’ll get Pepper involved.”

“If that doesn’t work, nothing will,” Steve agreed. He had a lot of respect for Pepper Potts. Lord knows the stuff she’d dealt with.

“Any plans for the day?” she asked him casually.

“Other than spending time with my wife, no,” Steve said, giving her another one of those slightly uncertain smiles. ��Might do some sketching.”

“Sounds like a nice day,” she agreed. “Holing up here is going to be our safest bet once the headlines start rolling in.”

She grimaced as she heard her phone ringing relentlessly.

“Ugh. I’d better check that. Wanna bet on how many calls I take before I shut the phone off?”

“Knowing how little you suffer fools, I’ll say five or under,” Steve replied. “Let me know if I need to use the Captain voice on anyone. I may not have the shield anymore, but I can still talk the talk.”

Natasha shot him a grin as she headed for her room.

She could handle the nosy callers easily, but even the Black Widow appreciated back up.

[lgchyoseop]

you bring me a lot of regrets

“there’s words i’ve always wanted to say”

...

tw: mentions of suicide, mentions of eating disorder

         familiar faces around, but he hadn’t expected it. he was popular in high school, but in the way girls wanted him, confessions after confessions, hanging out in groups, but nobody ever really felt like a friend, not besides nabom at least. and he’d spent the first year together with saeron, the second year healing over her, and he barely remembers the third year. when he graduated high school he didn’t really stay in touch much with anyone besides nabom, perhaps for the first few months, but he struggled in keeping friends around. how many years had it been now since going to high school? four, five years? he definitely hadn’t expected on them meeting again like this. it was probably nabom to blame he was here, she said they all wanted to see him, but he wasn’t sure. but like he had been popular in high school, he still seemed popular, the compliments on his looks, the quick subject change to future dreams, all eyes on him, just like he liked it, right? they were eating, though all he was doing was looking at the food, the only bite he’d taken was when one of the girls fed it to him, though he instantly regretted it. he followed a strict diet, and nothing here followed that diet, besides, he hadn’t eaten today in order to feel like the alcohol wasn’t wasted calories. 

“people always said you were a great drinker, even right after you turned nineteen” he smiles as he cheers with another dude, having some small talk, though it feels like all they’re talking about is hyoseop. “you’ve gotten so fit! even more than when in high school” a girl places her hand on his stomach, feeling his abs through his shirt, and he just tries his best to smile. “you’re still so handsome, your face really shone on future dreams!” face, not talent. “don’t drink too much” nabom says, pushing the glass a bit away from hyoseop, he shrugs “i don’t drink often, let me today” he says pushing it back to himself again. “nabom seemed crazy with you in high school, still being friends after all these years i would’ve guessed you would be together by now at least” he laughs, a memory of nabom’s confession showing up in his head, he looks at her quickly, her head a bit down. there’s a lot of talking, especially about hyoseop, and he can feel them flirting, he’s not sure whether he’s happy or he regrets showing up.

the clock is late, and hyoseop and nabom aren’t leaving before everyone else has, he’s following her home, she lives close by, and as her best friend, that’s the least he can do. she’s going with uncertain steps, obviously drunk, and though hyoseop isn’t as drunk, he’s definitely drunk too. he enjoys the cold air hitting his face, they’re walking in silence and then she stops, he figures she has to pee or vomit probably. but she turns around, eyes teary “you’re flirting with them, but why not me?” he feels confused, and he’s barely understanding what she’s saying. “you’ve never even given me a chance, i’ve been here always, i’m the only one who has been there for you! i got saeron away from you, i comforted you when you cried! i’ve tried helping you eat, and all i get is to be in the front row when you flirt with others!” … “i didn’t flirt with anyone today… let’s just get home” he takes a step toward her, she’s just drunk. “no! and why not? why not me! you flirted with me always, right until i confessed to you! over five years of friendship, and i confess and you shove me away! the only person who has ever cared” ‘the only person who has ever cared’. “they don’t know you like i do, nobody does!” … “please nabom, let’s just get home”, “kiss me!” “what?” “just once!” is that anger or sadness in her voice? “i don’t like you”, “but why!? why not? i’m the only person who knows besides you and her!” one step forward and she grabs his wrist, pushing his long sleeves back, “don’t talk about that!” he removes her hand from his wrist, pushes back down the sleeve. “when you didn’t eat anything now, i was the only one who cared! and you probably haven’t eaten anything today, and i’m still the only one who cares!”. “what are you trying to do, and what are you trying to say?” he sighs, steps back a little. “that nobody will ever like you like i do! i’m the only one who likes you, i’m the only one who cares, the only one who knows, all i’m asking for is a chance, just kiss me once!” … “do you know who you sound like?” “hyo—” “what’s next?! i have to prove my love for you?” anger “hyos—”, “and would you still like me if i didn’t look like this?! i stopped flirting a long time ago so we could keep this friendship, i’ve trusted you with my secrets, and it feels an awful lot like you feel like you’re better than everyone else because i’ve let you know! what do you want? want me to tell everyone that i tried killing myself? i’ve hided this scar from everyone but you, and all it is to you is some kind of proof that you’re closer to me than everyone else? i’ve had this scar for years, and i’ve hided it for years, from everyone i know!” “but i am special! i am the only one who knows!”. he almost wants to cry, “i am forever thankful to you nabom, that you got me away from her, that you’ve kept my secrets, that you’ve stayed by my side when everyone else left, but i’m not obligated to like you just because you’re different from everyone else!”, “just kiss me once, and tell me you feel nothing!”.

he can’t believe it, anything she’s saying or doing, but the truth comes from the drunk, and though he’s definitely not sober right now, the angriness in him almost makes him feel sober. “what if i like someone else?” and her face changes, an angry expression comes over her “oh yeah? and are you ready to show them your scar, explain where it’s from? ready to answer their questions about your eating habits? ready to refuse eating in front of them?” … “were you ever my friend? did you ever care? or was it all a plan to hopefully date me some day? she—” breathe “she let me know the same, that she was the only one caring for me, and that she was the only one worthy of my love or something”. “but i’m   not   her! i saved you from her!” he turns around, finds his phone from his pocket “who are you calling?”, “a taxi, i don’t want to walk you all the way home” “they’re expensive at this time of the night” “you think that matters right now?”. “just one kiss!”, “no”, “no thank you”. 

it feels like ages before the taxi shows up, and it’s difficult ignoring nabom, difficult taking in everything she’s said and is saying. and it’s awkward during the taxi ride, when she keeps talking and he keeps ignoring and the chauffeur goes: ‘lover’s quarrel?’. but he follows her the whole way home, forces her into her apartment, and keeps saying no when she begs him to stay, when she begs for that one kiss. and he returns back to the legacy dorms, though the walk is more than an hour, he stops walking and looks at the kitchen, but continues the walk without a bite, returning to his room. and he falls into his bed, rolling up his sleeve and looking at the scar before he bites into his hand as he cries, trying his best to silence the tears and feelings he’s feeling. he feels a bit dumb, for letting her in on his secrets, she’s the only one who knows, and he’s thankful to her, but he wishes being thankful would be enough. this night, he cries himself to sleep.

[hatredcurse]

foxcurse​ | Naruto:

“What did I sacrifice? My life—I sacrificed my whole life.” His words were partly directed at his rival, though his gaze remained fixed on the village that had always been a bittersweet home. Gripping the rooftop railing tightly, Naruto pondered the weight of his choices. Despite only being in his 20s, he had already relinquished so much of himself—forever lost in the depths of time. But the blonde reassured himself that there was still a future awaiting him, even if his entire youth had been stolen away. The most important thing, he believed, was that he had accomplished his mission. That was the very purpose of his existence—to give and give, while others simply took. Right?

 “I know I didn’t have to do it. But how was I supposed to be at peace without doing everything I could for your sake?” Naruto continued, finally turning his attention towards the other, aware that the Uchiha couldn’t possibly have all the answers. In truth, Naruto himself was uncertain why he cared so deeply—about Sasuke, about their village, about doing what was right. It was as if he had been programmed that way. It was a tough pill to swallow.

     “I don’t know, okay?! I don’t know what the hell I’m saying or why I’m bringing this up! Yes, I have regrets, but if I had to do it over again, I would choose you every single time.” It was a simple confession. To him, it seemed like an obvious truth. Taking a deep breath, he tried to steady his trembling voice. Taking a deep breath, he tried to steady his trembling voice.

“I’m not trying to hold it over you, Sasuke. I just wanna vent and scream and cry to someone who might understand where I’m comin’ from. After all, what can you do to change the past? It’s already happened. I just want my friend back—not a shadow. I want us to be like we used to—even if it’s impossible, even if you don’t want the same, even if I’m pissing you off right now—the least I deserve in this world is the right to say whatever the hell I want.” 

Before Sasuke stood a kid. Two kids actually; a young blond messy with day-old scraped knees and the other an inorganic black splotch that refused to take form. It flashed, like the red-hot crackle of chidori, within milliseconds before the blinding white returned to same blond (now a man) quivering at the fingertips. His mended mind began to falter between truth and untruth, recounting for every moment he understood Naruto’s emotions and when was simply a witness to them.

“I know.”

A breath of agreeance. Sasuke knew this truth with utmost certainty; Naruto will always chose him, even if it destroyed him, as it was doing now. The cruel irony is that Sasuke never chose him despite the obsession over his effigy— Naruto’s chosen role as the final seal before ultimate power. 

Perhaps, this is what wrought guilt. 

Sasuke coerced Naruto into friendship then decided his piece in his game. A game that he had no chance of winning and the Uzumaki’s only prize was the Uchiha’s new cold shoulder. His avoidance born of guilt sans hatred because his pride clung to the refusal to properly apologize. Fuck the apology, really. Sasuke never made the effort to fix what he had long destroyed, which was vastly more important than a couple of unsaid words.

“I can’t change the past and—,” he took a step closer, gloved fingers biting into leather palms,” and I can’t bring back that Sasuke you so desperately want either.”

Whether or not Naruto deserved anything was none of Sasuke’s concern. “I am your friend, am I not?” he said as if he put forth any effort to act like it,” this world still spins and I returned home. There is nothing I can possibly do to repay all that you’ve done for me, other than just exist in peace around you.”

Which begs the question: if Naruto disappeared tomorrow, would Sasuke follow? Would he walk in the steps that the man did for him? If the answer is “no”, then is what they have really friendship?

“Something’s upset you. What was it?” Sasuke grasped at straws to control the situation; to seek an understanding he wasn’t finding. His ego allowed him to offer solutions than spout any false promises. Better than having Naruto see through his sweet-nothings that way.