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#background henchman
leporedae · 10 days
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diamonds are a girl’s best friend ✧˖°.
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bowtastic · 2 years
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Merry halloweed
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peanutable · 2 years
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Happy 1st anniversary to The Cuphead Show! ❤
I love this serie and the game so much, and still hoping we can get more episodes in the future! 🙏 These characters are so fun to draw!
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Probably not, Henchman, but it's ok we still love them!
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hey-imma-fangirl · 8 months
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I did some Cuphead Show screenshot redraws! ^^
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babybinko · 1 year
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Hot ghost gossip feat. The Blowjob Brothers
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trainingdummyrabbit · 11 months
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youve heard of self-shipping now get ready for self-accessorizing. characters you wanna stand next to not in a Thats My BoyGirlFriend way but in a Purse Dog sorta way. character and That Other One That Follows Them Around. theyre whispering conspiratorily to each other and were not sure if we should be afraid. im talking about cartoon henchman behavior. you got that?
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crowerclover · 1 year
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Screenshot redraw of the best duo
Og under the cut
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chaoticfandomthot · 1 year
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Not to bring this back but Girahim worked too hard for ganon's battle to be over so fast
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sizzlingsaliva · 2 years
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I didn't try on this but
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mx-mind · 2 years
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I'm not 100% happy with this design but fuck it, here's my Batman OC, Nova Armstrong (super villain name pending, but I'm currently going with "The Black Hole") (ze/hir pronouns, prefers masculine terms). Ze can temporarily absorb powers and strength from others, and hir public personality tends to match those around hir (though it's unconfirmed if this is because of hir powers or just an attempt to fit in). In truth, ze's very outgoing yet awkward, often spending lengths at a time talking and being very dramatic but unable to make eye contact or pick up on others' emotions without being explicitly told (yeah ze's autistic I can't not make my characters autistic). Also a bit clingy, ze hates being alone and will try anything to hold onto someone's company.
Nova isn't an independent villain, instead choosing to work as a henchman for hire and bouncing around to whoever needs one. Ze claims to be looking for hir brother, whose whereabouts are unknown after leaving home to become a henchman (part of the problem being that ze can't remember who he was going to join). Eventually, ze does get a tip about hir brother, but when ze returns, ze's a lot more withdrawn and quiet. Ze still matches the personality of those ze's working with, but ze's a lot more subtle about it instead of being a carbon copy of the other. When asked about hir brother, ze simply refuses to acknowledge ever having any family members.
Ze started as a self-insert so I could hang out with the characters I like, but I started turning hir into hir own character. Ze's also partially based on the Rookie from Lego DC Super Villains in terms of the power set. I'm probably gonna be tweaking hir personality as I keep writing hir but this is what I've got so far
ID in alt/below
[Image Description: A digital halfbody portrait of my OC Nova Armstrong. Ze has very light skin with golden undertones, short blue-black hair with a white streak by the right side of hir head and sidebangs swept to hir left, blue glasses, and black dot eyes. Ze wears a dark purple shirt with an indigo collar and the sleeves rolled up to hir elbows. Ze looks to hir left and down at the ground while hir mouth is open, as if ze was speaking. The background is made of purple-pink swirls on a purple-black backdrop with some tiny yellow dots randomly splattered across. The artist's signature, "Skyllion" written in cursive and dotted with a heart, is above Nova's shoulder. /end ID]
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qqueenofhades · 2 years
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Do you foresee much Fedyor/Ivan content in season 2, given that they became so popular in the fandom? They both die in the next book, if the show ends up following that, but still?
To be honest... no? I'm happy to eat any amount of crow about this if I am wrong, and I would love to be so, because I adore them (obviously) and Ivan is my Favorite. But I'm 100% braced for them either to not bring Ivan back, bring him back and not let them interact/have any scenes together, or bring him back and then they both die at the end a la book 2 anyway. I am old and Tired and as a rule, I generally side-eye TV writers with queer characters, especially after they made Fivan into a couple specifically for the series even though, yes, THEY BOTH DIE.
Anyway. As I said, I would love to be wrong, and I will doubtless watch s2 anyway. But if they mistreat my beloved background henchmen boys, oh, it is ON SIGHT.
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temiizpalace · 2 months
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☆┊STARTING TODAY, YOU ARE A HOST!
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SUMMARY: after stumbling into the host clubs room and breaking an expensive vase, you have to face the dire consequences.. with grim of course.
MASTERLIST
GENRE: fluff, crack-fic
NOTES/WARNINGS: accidentally walking in while changing (not sexual), might be ooc, canon divergence
reader is afab, reader is yuu
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after spending a couple days at nrc, you and grim have decided to finally start looking for ways to get you home. you held the creature tightly in your arms as you walked up and down the halls of the school, searching for the library. “myahh, henchman.. do you even know where you’re going? maybe i should lead the way. ” grim snarls, leaving you to roll your eyes.
“be quiet. no way in hell am i letting you off on your own. do you want to break another chandelier and risk another expulsion?” you retorted as you opened the multiples and multiples of doors. “all these rooms, and not a single one is the library..”
“maybe ya needa ask that ace guy.” grim shrugs, making you cringe at the thought. “in your dreams. him? helping someone at all? don’t make me laugh.” empty classroom after empty classroom. your constant bickering with grim had distracted you from even finding the library itself, ignoring the obvious signs.
unfortunately, your carelessness was going to cost you greatly. as you entered what seemed like your hundredth classroom, you were relieved to find the place bustling with students, hoping this’d be the place you were looking for. spoiler alert: nope!!
“welcome.” this isn’t a library.. it looks like.. a host club?!
night raven host club. a place where young men have far too much time on their hands, entertain other young men and women from other schools who also have too much time on their hands. think of it as.. a playground of sorts.
you hold the door handle tightly, practically leaving grim in a chokehold as you wished to fall into a hole and disappear. “sorry. wrong room.” you mumbled as you tried closing the door slowly. a hand pried the two sides of the doors back open, startling you at the incredibly fast reflexes.
“AGH?!” you yelp, nearly falling backwards. a boy with blonde hair and a very tacky looking hat stared daggers into your face, the silence becoming very uncomfortable. “could you be..” he murmurs, you and grim looking at each other with confused looks.
“..[MC] the magicless perfect and his weasel grim, perchance?” he smiles, causing a shiver to go down your spine. something tells you he’s trouble. “haha, nope! wrong person! super sorry, bye!” you try getting away, but your efforts are in vain as the boy pulls you back into the room, almost dropping grim face first.
“non! stay, you have walked into the host club after all.” he stated sternly, a whole group of other boys now staring you down. “floyd. jade. have you gotten the information i requested?” the one with light gray hair spoke, looking at two tall and lanky young men who are nearly identical. “im afraid not. they have just stepped foot onto campus recently with no traces of information or background.” one of them spoke.
“but they’re so small and teeny! i think i’ll call em shrimpy and his little buddy sealie.” im pretty they’re talking about me. and grim. you think to yourself as you stood there awkwardly. “..very well,” the silver haired boy looked at you, a polite smile on his face. “welcome to the host club, prefect. azul ashengrotto, housewarden of octavinelle. feel free to contact me in a pinch.” he came over to shake your hand, in which you reluctantly did.
“mon dieu! where are my manners!” the blonde exclaimed. “apologies, rook hunt, vice-housewrden of pomefiore at your service.” he took your hand away and lifted it up to his lips, making you flinch. “right..” grim pretends to gag, catching the attention of the two tall boys from earlier.
“so what really are ya, sealie? you some kinda raccoon or somethin?” the twin on the left said, laughing like a maniac as he snatched grim outta your hands. “now, now, floyd. even if our guest is a beast, it is still a guest. we must treat them with care.” the one, who you’re now assuming would be jade, said with a gentlemanly expression.
he turns his attention to you, his smile never dissipating. “a pleasure to have you, prefect. i am jade leech, vice-housewarden of octavinelle. if you couldn’t guess, this is my twin brother, floyd.” he pointed to his brother, who seemed to be squeezing the living daylights out of your ally. “GRIM!” you run over to grab your fuzzball, but he seemed to be locked in an iron grip. “hm? don’t worry shrimpy, you’ll be next on the squeezing list!” floyd giggles, making you shudder.
“oh my, things are beginning to look lively, aren’t they? i believe i’ve seen that young man at the entrance ceremony.” a short boy with a much deeper voice than you anticipated spoke, looking at his almost opposite counterpart. a tall man with horns, who seemed to be pouting, looked at him with a blank expression. “..is that so?”
“i say we join the fun!” the shorter one smiles, walking over to you and the twin. “welcome to night ravens host club, prefect! lilia vanrouge, vice-housewarden of diasomnia! over there is malleus draconia, diasomnia’s housewarden and future king of briar valley.” he stated almost casually, your brain taking moments to process that information. “don’t be intimidated, he’s just shy.” he smiles, the horned man behind him narrowing his eyes.
“don’t tell such lies, lilia.” he sighs, standing beside the vice housewarden. “okay, look. nice to meet all of you, buuuutt i really gotta get goin now!” you try prying grim out of floyds arms, in which they suddenly loosen. did you do it? “im bored of ya sealie, cmere shrimpy!” he giggled, turning to you. “no, no, NO!”
rook smiled from afar, watching the scene unfold. azul and jade stand by the side, watching as floyd chased you down. “floyd, don’t terrorize the guest of honor. it’d be such a shame if we lost a potential customer.” azul sneers, adjusting his glasses. the leech twin doesn’t spare him a second glance, only charging at you as you ran at high speeds.
“GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME!” you shout, feeling your life flash before your eyes. “cmere, shrimpy! i just wanna give you a niiiccee tiiiggghhtt squeeze!!” he giggles, grim following trailing far behind him. “HANDS OFFA MY HENCHMAN!”
as you’re running, you feel yourself trip over your feet and nearly fall face first onto the floor. the nearest object to keep you steady was a pillar, which you thankfully grabbed onto in time. relief resided within you as you saved yourself from injury.
until..
CRASH!
sounds of glass shattering on the ground also happen to shatter your peace, peering over to see pieces of broken glass patterns scattered across the ground. “shit.”
lovely! first you and your accomplices char ancient statues and destroy a chandelier, now you can add destroying vases to your list! what a record.
“oh dear,” jade sighs, staring at the shards on the floor. “that just so happened to be an ancient vase found in the cave of wonders.. we were going to auction this off at our most recent gala.” he collects the broken glass pieces into his hand and stares at them with a frown.
“auction..? gala..?” you murmur, starting to feel a sweat on your brow. “that vase was going to start at 10,000,000 thaumarks.. what a shame.” azul sighs, feeling a plan formulate in his head. meanwhile, you felt your soul meet the gods and heroes then fall all the way down to greet the great seven.
no way are you going to be able to afford that.. grim felt like he was aging rapidly, falling over and fainting as he heard the outrageous pricing. “oh my, and i quite liked that vase too. it took me centuries to find it amongst my travels.” lilia murmurs, also catching you wide-eyed. is he being literal or figurative? at this rate, you won’t put anything past anyone in this damn world.
“non, non.. this simply cannot do.” rook sighs, holding his hat over his eyes. suddenly, a spotlight shines over him, raising his hat to reveal a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “then it is settled! starting today, you are the host clubs errand boy!” he points at you and grim, causing the beast beside you to hiss.
“WHO ARE YA CALLING ERRAND BOY! I AM GRIM THE GREAT! A MAGNIFICENT MAGE!” grim shrieks, making you cover his mouth instinctively. “e-errand boy?” you repeat, raising your brow. “oui, errand boy! we need someone to run the host clubs errands, and you both just so happen to qualify for the job!” rook smiles, grabbing you both by the shoulders.
and so, you ran the errands. running back and forth and back and forth and back and forth.. you get the idea. they worked you ragged, possibly even worse than crowley if you wanted to exaggerate things. you felt eyes on you each trip you made, you hated it. “henchman.. im tired..” grim yawns, swaying left and right drowsily. as much as you and grim argued, it was obvious you didn’t hate each other in the slightest.
“here, i’ll carry you.” you lift him up into your arms, cradling him in one hand while holding the brown paper bag in the other. when he doesn’t have his huge mouth open, grim was quite adorable. like a house cat. you smiled as he napped peacefully, setting down the brown bag onto a nearby table.
“oh goodness! is that yours?” a girl nearby chimes, pointing to the sleepy critter in your arms. “hm? ah, grim? not exactly, but he’s a friend.” you laugh awkwardly, rocking him in your arms. “he’s adorable! may i pet him?” she asks, a slight blush forming on her cheeks.
“sure, why not?” you smile, allowing her to brush her hand atop of grim’s head. wait, how’s there a girl here? “so cute! can i pet him too?” another girl mused, then another, then another, and another, til eventually you were surrounded by a mob.
if grim was awake, he’d either bask in this affection or push it away. but right now, he purred in contentment. “hm..” azul hums, staring at the group of girls and boys crowding you and your mascot. “..beautiful! absolutely beautiful!” rook evades the crowd and grabs your hands. “never mind errand boy, non, you’re going to be a host!”
“excuse me, what?” the crowd squealed in excitement at the thought of a new host, and to have it be such a cute and handsome “boy” as well! azul smirks, watching as another entryway to his elaborate pyramid scheme opens up. “jade, floyd, escort our club mate to the changing halls with a proper change of clothes.”
“right away./oki doki boss!” each twin grabs one of your shoulders and carries you towards the changing rooms as you gripped grim with all your might just to ensure he doesn’t fall. that weasel can sleep through anything..
“okay, okay, i get it! put me down, i’ll change myself!” you groan as you were placed onto the ground, yanking the uniform off the hanger. the two siblings awaited you outside the changing rooms, causing you to internally panic. there’s no way you’re going to escape now! and even if you could, you can’t just leave grim here! what to do..
maybe your best bet is to just play along. who knows what these stupid mages are capable of doing if you managed to leave.. you shudder at the thought of it. you change into the uniform, coming out with a fresh new style. jade chuckles, smiling in approval. “fufu, you look quite nice in your uniform. however, your hair is an absolute birds nest. it is best we take care of that immediately.”
“really? i thought it was fine— OW!” floyd aggressively brushes your unkempt hair out, causing pain to your scalp after each stroke. “sorry shrimpy, but ya got tons an’ tons of knots in you’re hair!” he shrugs, your yelps making this sound like a torture chamber.
“he’s readyyy!!” floyd cheers, presenting you like an item on display. rook covers his mouth with his hand, eyes wide as he looks at you. lilia holds his hand on his chin with a smile, inspecting you with careful consideration. “my, my, the uniform quite suits you! wouldn’t you agree, malleus?” he looks to malleus who stared at you with an intense gaze, almost to the point its uncomfortable.
“..you look much more presentable compared to before.” he stated straightforwardly, causing your eyebrow to twitch. was that a compliment? “gee, thanks.” you sigh, scratching the back of your neck. “C’EST MAGNIFIQUE! YOU LOOK STUNNING, PREFECT!” rook exclaims, rushing over to you and capturing you in a hug. “ACK—ROOK! CUT IT OUT!”
you shriek, feeling yourself lifted off the ground at the boys unexpected strength. “aww.. no fair! i wanna squeeze shrimpy too!” floyd pouts, pushing rook off of you and ultimately replacing him. “CAN YOU GUYS JUST GET OFF OF ME?!”
“floyd, that’s quite enough. as exciting as it is to welcome a new member, we still have guests to entertain.” azul sighs, massaging his temple. “boo, i don’t wanna.” the eels grip never relented, holding onto you tightly without even taking into account his job and status. you felt like you were going to burst before you were suddenly separated from the crushing grip.
“now, now, gentlemen. let’s settle down. azul is right, there are guests to attend to and we mustn’t dally on our duties as hosts! rook can show our new hire the ropes while the rest of us shall continue to entertain as per usual.” lilia insists, using his magic to keep floyd a considerable distance away from you. “lovely! what a beautiful idea! come now, prefect! we must transform you into a refined gentleman!”
and just like that, you’ve began hosting. as rook charmed the masses with his sweet words and enchanting poems, you chose to observe how the others won the hearts of these young women and men. “my dear, let me stay by your side for as long as the world allows me to. i am speechless just being within your presence, truly.” rook gets onto one knee, holding the hand of the woman before him. her hand rested on his chest, feeling it as it beat. “oh, rook..” she sighed.
oh god. you had to do that? seriously? you’ve gotta be joking. you look to the twins section, noticing they work in pairs rather than separately. “jade, you’re such a kind soul.. i’d love to end up with someone like you.” a boy coos as he covers his cheeks with his hands, only earning a chuckle out of the man beside him. “is that so? how utterly intriguing that is.. if you’d like, you can stop by the mostro lounge after this. your presence would certainly light up the whole cafe..”
“yeah, yeah, jade would be reeaaall happy to see ya there.” floyd adds, holding his brothers shoulder with a grin. you don’t even need to blink twice to know those two are lying by the skin of their teeth. jade couldn’t care less if that guy stepped foot onto the premises. he probably wouldn’t even care if they were eaten by vicious animals!
lilia seemed like quite the fan favorite. “my travels are certainly a tale! if you all would like, i am more than happy to tell you about them. each story has shaped me into the cute and adorable little thing i am today!” he muses, earning some ooo’s and aaa’s from the people around him. tales? why make yourself sound so old?
malleus was an interesting case. he didn’t seem to have spoke much, and once he did, it seemed his only topic were gargoyles. what weirdos reside in this club anyway? “ah, [MC], you and your cat seem to be quite famous at night raven college. the attention must be stressful.” a girls voice cuts you out of your thoughts, averting your attention.
right. you got this. just be cool! “it hasn’t really bothered me til recently, but i guess i’d better get used to it if i plan to keep attending this school without magic.” you answer, earning a nod from her. “so, how do you like it so far?” a boy asks, making you think for a bit. to be honest, things have been going shitty for the past few days. you made, what? 2 friends not including grim?
“i think my experience here is going to be wonderful,” lie. “especially since i get to spend my time with new personalities.” you smile, trying to charm them to the best of your abilities. was the making you cringe? yes. but it’s necessary.
“well to me, it seems like you’re nothing but a waste of space on their roster.” a girl jeers, stifling a laugh as she looked at you. “let’s be honest, a mage attending a magic academy without being able to master simple fire spells shouldn’t have been admitted at all. letting you into this club must be a way for rook to keep you from looking pitiful.”
what the hell..? what’s with this woman? it’s not like you had a choice! the urge to just straight up punch her is strong but thank the lords you had some self control left in you. “is that so? thank you for your delightful input.” you manage to murmur out, trying to seem unfazed. she hated it. suddenly, the table is tipped over and a hand grabs onto your wrist tightly.
you feel yourself pulled down, catching yourself before falling onto the girl. “[MC]! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! GET OFF OF ME!” she squeals, trying to “push” you off of her as she pretends to struggle. the attention of every guest is glued onto the unfolding scene before them, her screams growing louder. rook walks over, his expression neutral for the first time. cold water is poured over the two of you, making both of you soaked.
“you’re kinda loud, can you shuddup?” floyd scoffs, a bucket in his hands. “WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” her demeanor changes once her eyes landed on rook, her personality doing a 180. “r-rook.. those two brutes had just assaulted me! you’re not going to let them get away with it are you..?”
awh hell nah what the fuck man. this is the most pathetic girl you’ve ever seen in your lifetime. he sighs and tosses the girl a towel, making her swoon and smile. “awh.. you’re so sweet! than—“
“im disappointed, ma chérie.” he sighed, using another towel to dry off your hair. “faking a scene of such seriousness, i cannot approve of you.” rook looks to the girls expression, her face pale and drained of color. “oh dear, how troublesome. i believe it’d be best if we were to show her a proper goodbye.” lilia adds, frowning as he looked at her.
“faking an assault. how foolish of you.” malleus crosses his arms in disapproval. the girl stood in the middle of the attention, eyes laying on her at every angle. “jade. floyd. show our guest off campus.” azul snaps his fingers, the twins pulling out their magic pens. “of course. however, id rather not have to touch the thing so magic may be our next option.” jade smiled politely despite his insulting jab.
“you.. YOU IDIOTS! ROOK YOU IDIOT!” she yells, kicking and yelling as she was carried to the exit of night raven college. “how embarrassing, to think we housed a guest such as that in our club.. truly shameful. prefect, are you hurt?” rook asks, looking at you with a concerned expression.
“ah, no. i’m alright.” you reassured everyone, making a few sigh in relief. “i believe you should change into a new set of clothes. you’re are soaking wet right now.” lilia points out, making you embarrassed. “right.. i’ll change into the clothes from earlier.”
and so, you did. this whole incident was such an embarrassing thing to happen. while grim peacefully slept away, you had to deal with this shit?? this host club sucks. as you change, you hear the curtains shift causing you to swiftly look back. “prefect, we’ve got you extra towels just in ca—“
rook looks up and saw you. in feminine undergarment. he freezes, making you scream. “GET OUT??” the other host club members gather around, seeing as rook froze in place. as much as they all hate to admit it, they caught a glimpse of you before he closed the curtains, causing them all to look at each other.
no way.. you’re not a guy? they had just assumed so! considering there are some hyper-feminine guys here nobody really bats an eye to it. you blended in! you came out with an expression practically begging to be killed, feeling the life sucked out of you at each set of eyes on you.
malleus already knew from the start, as did lilia. jade suspected as much, but couldn’t help but feel surprised that his suspicions seemed to be correct. floyd was actually quite excited in contrast to azul’s extreme shock. seriously, the poor octo-mers face was red. rook couldn’t even move. like jade, he suspected as much.. yet..
“this proves to be quite the predicament..” rook suddenly spoke, his face twisting into one of delight and joy. “you had me fooled! color me impressed! from now on, i shall call you trickster!” he smiles, holding your hand tightly. you don’t even have time to process their reactions before you’re once again pulled into rooks embrace.
“i dont see why this is such a big deal though! im just doing your stupid club to repay my debts! who cares if im not a dude!” you groan, trying to break out of his tight hug. “oya? then i shall take your word for it! we expect great things from you, trickster!” he hums, seemingly unaffected by your uncaring attitude.
“your secret is safe with us, [MC]. we wouldn’t dream of sharing this with the public.. fufu..” jade smiles, his laugh sounding suspicious and slightly untrustworthy. “don’t you worry your pretty little head, shrimpy! jade, azul, an’ I won’t spill the beans.” floyd laughs, ruffling your hair with his hand. “r-right. ahem, we’ll be sure to keep your secret under wraps.” azul clears his throat, offering you a polite smile.
“we won’t tell a soul, you may take my word for it.” lilia flashes you a grin, his word more trustworthy than the trio next to you. “if anyone wishes to tell your secret with the others, they will not get the chance. you may count on me.” malleus mumbles, his threat sending a chill down your spine. “we’ll treat you with the utmost care! count on it!” rook finally adds, your eyebrow twitching.
“..thanks guys.” something tells me this’ll be a long year..
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A/N: WOOOOOO FIRST ONE DONE!!!! lowkey kinda disappointed but WHATEVER‼️‼️‼️
date published: 8/3/24
© temiizpalace — do not copy, steal, or put my work into ai. thank you!
TAGLIST (let me know if you wished to be tagged)
@jiwook18
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epiclamer · 4 months
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POURQUOI C’EST TOUT EN FRANÇAIS?????
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The same fingers curled back into Hero’s hair, deceivingly gentle as they teased their locks and stroked their scalp. Hero pulled away and the touch went cruel in a split second, easily yanking the crime-stopper’s head back by their hair.
“Oh come on, Hero. Don’t try to escape me now...” The one in question let out a horrible half-whine half-strangled gurgle. “We only just started…”
Supervillain’s smirk was far too wide as they draped the cloth back over Hero’s head—ignoring the other’s haggard breaths—one hand still wrapped in their hair, while the other reached once more for the hose.
Hero was thrashing before the water even came, but Supervillain was stronger. Supervillain was always stronger.
To the hero, the torture lasted forever. They were drowning; no matter how many times it came, no matter how many times Supervillain restarted, it never got easier. There was no way for Hero to calm their body, no way to hold their breath with the water streaming down their sinuses, no way to spit water with the cloth, no way to struggle with their restraints.
And, fuck, did it ever burn.
“V-Villain—”Hero yelled when the water stopped and their head was freed from its smothering. They were gasping, choking, coughing, and still they were shouting for the criminal with the shreds of their voice. “Villain, please—”
The supervillain huffed, rolling their eyes before turning to their partner. “Do you have something to say?”
Villain blinked, blank eyes staring back at their boss, then flicking to the blubbering hero where they struggled in their chair. They angled themselves away from the crime-stopper, turning their full attention to the supervillain and they heard the hero sob a broken plea. “About?”
Supervillain’s grin widened and they gestured at the hero with a flamboyant wave. “About Hero here? Don’t you remember how close you two used to be? Hero seems to think your old connection will grant them some sort of mercy…”
“I don’t need m-mercy, you f-fucking psycho.” Hero spat, glaring at the supervillain as much as they could from their current position and the other tightened the hand in their hair. They winced and their attention switched to the villain standing in the corner by the door. “V-Villain, please, Supervillain b-brainwashed you—”
Hero’s neck was wrenched backwards at a clearly uncomfortable angle as Supervillain looked down on them. “That’s enough out of you, hm?” They turned to face Villain, cloth once more in hand, an ominous promise of what was to come next. “Do you feel brainwashed, Villain? After I saved you from the Heroes Agency where they tortured you and kept you from me? Convinced you I was the bad guy?”
When the hero attempted to speak up the sopping washcloth was pressed back down against their nose and lips, causing them to start struggling once more. Their obviously exhausted body still fighting tooth and nail for survival.
“No. You saved me.”
Supervillain’s face lit up, pleased with themselves, passing the hose off to the henchman at their side. “Exactly, sweetheart.”
Hero’s muffled yelling could be heard as the supervillain stepped away from them and let their henchman take over. The words were clear enough to understand, yet the rest of the room continued to ignore the kidnappee.
Except for Villain. It was in fact quite difficult to ignore someone desperately screaming your name. But they didn’t let that show and only a moment later Hero’s begging was drowned out by the soft sounds of running water.
“Henchman, carry on for us will you? Villain and I have lots to catch up on.”
With a tap against the villain’s elbow, Supervillain gently guided them out of the cell and down the jail-filled hallway. Escorting them through turns and up stairs, Hero’s wails and cries out for Villain slowly blending into the background.
Supervillain was talking, voice lofting through the air, but they never reached the criminal’s ears. Instead, Villain was calculating how much longer they would have to keep the ‘amnesiac-brainwashed-minion’ act up until their team could take down Supervillain and rescue Hero.
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burningvelvet · 3 months
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moby dick summarized without going into any of its loftier themes:
act one: adventure story ft. unexpected queer romance between a quiet teacher and a tattooed butch cannibal via the "only one bed" trope. one quoted sentence to summarize: "better sleep with a sober cannibal than a drunken christian."
act two: national geographic textbook on the history and biology of whales and all associated subjects, incoherent rambling, in-depth studies of background characters we never see before or after, procrastinating the ending. one quoted sentence to summarize: "nor have i been at all sparing of historical whale research, when it has seemed needed."
act three: greek tragedy ft. queerplatonic romance between a doomed madman and his voice of reason henchman who literally offers to ride off into the sunset with him but who he ultimately betrays for a whale. one quoted sentence to summarize: "here’s food for thought, had ahab time to think; but ahab never thinks; he only feels, feels, feels; that’s tingling enough for mortal man! to think’s audacity."
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amuromi · 4 months
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★ ₊ ⊹ ⋆˙ ┈ 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 X ᶠ!ᴿᴱᴬᴰᴱᴿ
✦ ⋆˙ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ┈ 11.0k
✦ ⋆˙ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ┈ NSFW! actor!au, unprotected sex, pet names (baby), oral (f!receiving), ooc Toji (no, really!!)
✦ ⋆˙ 𝐀!𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ┈ This is very self-indulgent because I was once again infected with brain worms because of this post.
✮ 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 & 𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓!! ✮
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Toji is a typecast kind of actor. He started out as just a guy they call in when they need some muscle. He’s got the training for all sorts of things. Martial arts, swordplay. If a background character needs to look believably menacing, he’s the one to get on contract. And over time his bit parts as henchman number three and thug with one line slowly evolved into something more involved, because there is no denying that Toji has a face for film. Eyes that come with a vulpine sharpness, like he knows something you don’t, and a scar at the corner of his mouth that’s as marketable as any beauty mark. Really, he looks mean, but that’s exactly what a villain is supposed to look like. He’s all harsh angles that any photographer would kill to work with. So he slowly builds up a filmography from the most insignificant masked goon to a formidable kingpin, front and center. Goes from an uncredited extra to damn near top billing as a main antagonist and that’s just fine with him when the bigger roles come with a paycheck to match. It’s not anything new for him. Toji spent his whole life fighting and training. How else could he make all those stunts look so easy? It’s only right that he makes a career out of all those grueling days of harsh conditioning. And it sweetens the deal when he finally finds his girl. 
Every villain needs arm candy. It’s a constant revolving door of pretty faces standing next to him whenever the director yells “action!” So many that they begin to blend together in his mind and he spends interviews bullshitting his way through any thoughts regarding his female co-stars. “She was fine, I guess.” And of course, he thinks she did a great job in that movie he’s never seen. Empty platitudes to satisfy the interviewer and keep his manager happy that he’s playing nice about the tedious media circuit. Usually his roles don’t require that much attention to detail. He’s coasted this far on his graveled voice and dour expressions, so he never bothers to pay more than the bare minimum of attention. He learns his line and character names. He knows who the blonde character named Amy is but without the blindingly bright platinum hair he couldn’t pick the actress that played her out of a lineup. So it makes his life a lot easier when they find him a girl that works. 
Something about charisma and chemistry. All the buzzwords he’s fed over conference calls boil down to you being his girl. The perfect match for his onscreen persona. Real pretty with just enough training that you can fill in on most of your own stunts. So it makes sense when the two of you start cropping up as a package deal. If there’s an action movie in need of a big bad, Toji’s name is put forward, and if he needs a girl–and, sometimes, even when he doesn’t–his people are quick to toss your name into the ring. He’s not sure on the details, if your agents have worked out some kind of joint agreement or if it’s just coincidence that all the casting directors settle on you as his opposite but he’s not complaining. 
You’re real easy on the eyes in a way that goes beyond basic celebrity standards. You don’t look standard. The other girls he’s worked with were standardized. All coming in the same kind of package, but with you he can pick out true individual features. He can tell when the makeup artists fuck around with your eyebrows and overdoes your lipstick. Maybe it’s ’cause he’s always looking at you nowadays, but it might also just be how gorgeous you are. Of course he wants to know what such a pretty girl looks like. It’s one of the perks of the profession and Toji is nothing if not selfish about almost everything. He’s not acting for the art, it just gives him the biggest payout at the end of the day. He likes his bank account with a ridiculous amount of zeros and it just so happens that you come along with that. 
He can’t see why his manager is suddenly complaining when your names start getting tossed around in tandem more often than not. Why shouldn’t Toji date you if he wants to? And he wants to. But apparently he’s supposed to maintain a certain aura in the media. Mean and unapproachable. Which he is. There’s plenty of videos of him manhandling the paparazzi to attest to that. But that means he’s gotta be something unobtainable, and making heart eyes–he’s definitely not doing anything like that–at his favorite little co-star is certainly the opposite of unobtainable. 
He tries to be pragmatic about it, saying he’s just keeping in character. Mean to everyone but his girl. But his manager isn’t going for that. Something about your people using him for clout since he’s got a few years of experience on you as the new kid on the block. Still Toji can’t see the problem. This whole damn industry is built on connections and favoritism so why can’t he help you a little if he wants to. The mere mention of his lack of concern has Shiu groaning, the sound chopped up and drawn out by a poor connection. 
“You’re my most difficult client, do you know that?” The man sighs like he’s trying to wrangle a toddler into behaving. 
“I’m your only client.” Toji reminds him, earning a scowl through the laptop screen. 
“And whose fault is that?” Shiu sounds so put out that Toji doesn’t bother entertaining the idea that it’s anything other than his fault. Somehow. Even though it was Shiu that approached him after he spent a couple years as a free agent that productions had to play phone tag with to book. Now he’s at least a little serious about this whole acting thing, but Shiu wasn’t there from the start so he gets what he gets. An insanely marketable asset if the only thing you want to be known for is managing the big, scary guy in every action movie out in the past few years. In pigeonholing himself into what he’s good at, Toji has tied Shiu’s hands but that’s not really his issue. Especially not when he’s pissing him off, telling him to stop talking nice to you. 
“All I’m saying is a little discretion would be highly appreciated.” Toji nods like he’s taking his manager’s words to heart but he knows there’s not much the man can do without shooting himself in the foot by pissing off the only person he’s got on contract. 
The people wanna see the two of you together. Toji wants to see the two of you together. And you’re not putting up a fuss about seeing him on every set you show up to. The only person upset with the arrangement is Shiu, and Toji barely listens to anything the man says in the first place. So when you let slip during a break to reset a scene that you’re going through the audition process for some indie thriller starting up production he’s quick to piece together enough information to get himself in the door of an audition without Shiu knowing. You’re new enough that you’ve never had anyone else as your love interest and something cocky and maybe a tad bit possessive in him wants to keep it that way. He likes how the two of you look together, so why ruin a good thing by letting someone else work with you when you already work so well together? And you just have to look so happy to see him when the final cast is announced. 
Here you come, all smiles and newly dyed hair, asking why he didn’t tell you he was trying for a part, too, and he just shrugs to keep from telling a lie. Because the truth is he wasn’t supposed to be trying for a role but like clockwork a villain was needed and he showed up to fill the spot. And it works out in his favor because he’s not here to play some one note guy with a gun. Instead he’s playing a psychopath or sociopath–he’s still not a hundred percent on the difference but you explained that there definitely is a difference–and it just so happens that his character is obsessed with you. Shiu made a snide comment about “a little on the nose, isn’t it,” when the first script came through but Toji elected to ignore him. It’s not some well-guarded secret that he likes working with you so who cares if it seems a bit much that he’s somehow always one step behind you. 
Apparently, the fans care. They care a lot. He’s still trying to wrap his head around people caring so much about what he’s doing. When Shiu gets to throwing around media jargon he usually tunes him out but he hears enough about it from you that he’s starting to recognize certain terms. Fans, stans–two different things, maybe–fansites, and saesaengs–at least that’s what Shiu calls them, and they’re bad fans. Toji would rather call them what they are, which is crazed stalkers, but in the industry there needs to be a code word for everything. He’s caught you scrolling through your own tags on social media more than once, “just to see what they’re saying,” you insist, and then sulk when Toji takes your phone because you don’t need to have an unfiltered experience about how people view you online. It’s a dangerous place for someone so sensitive. You don’t have the same aloofness that he has to how people perceive him and he doesn’t need you getting your feelings hurt. 
Supposed fans like to pick at every little thing people in the spotlight do. An hour on whatever app you’re scrolling that day would pick you apart like buzzards over roadkill and leave you nursing your hurt feelings for days to come. New insecurities you haven’t even considered having would crop up because one person made a comment on your nose. Never mind the fact that it looks perfect just the way it is. At least to Toji. But you’re always quick to remind him that he has something nice to say no matter how you look, which isn’t wrong but he’s never lied or over embellished his thoughts. You are beautiful. It’s not his fault for pointing out the obvious. And his blatant, albeit silent, admiration works towards your newest project together. He hears the crew whispering between takes about how unnerving he is on camera, and how it doesn’t entirely seem like an act when he’s looking at you. 
It isn’t. Although Toji isn’t quite unhinged enough to stalk you or slaughter anyone that gets too close. He doesn’t need to anyway. You offer yourself up so sweetly like you can’t tell how frustratingly tempting you are. He tries to behave. For your benefit. He doesn’t care about Shiu’s constant reminders for “discretion.” And if your agent has anything to say to you about it, you’ve yet to mention it. And you never turn down his offers to go out after work. 
Someone asks for your autograph when you enter the restaurant together, begging for a picture with the two of you before a starry-eyed hostess ushers you to a private table. That picture will cost him another afternoon of Shiu yapping in his ear about tarnishing his reputation but that’s a problem for later because Toji is still thinking about how you rested your hand on his chest and leaned against his shoulder for the photo. There’s probably nothing to it. Intimacy like that comes like muscle memory after so many photoshoots for movie stills and promotional images. There’s a poster somewhere of the two of you posed in just the same position but that had been directed by a photographer. This you did on your own. Toji tries not to dwell on it as you flip through the menu. He knows from experience that you’ll stare blankly at the words printed on the paper, flipping through each page like you’re reading it, just to look up with that deer in headlights face that you get anytime a waiter asks for your order. You can deal with a swarm of paparazzi with a breezy smile but the moment someone asks you what you want to eat you freeze up. 
“I don’t know what to get,” you hum, still looking over all the options. Toji knows what you want. It’s an Italian restaurant and he knows you like pasta. He picks your order before his own, setting the menu aside to watch you pretend to make a choice. It’s cute, because he knows you’re genuinely trying to pick but without fail you start to blank as soon as the waitress saunters over to the table looking far more primped than the others he’s seen milling around. There’s gloss on her lips and her hair is pulled back so neatly it looks freshly done. It almost looks like she’s just clocked in except her cheeks are flushed bright and there’s a slight tremble to her hands. The hostess must’ve spread the word that celebrities were dining at table 17. She smiles real big, eyes fixed on Toji as you frantically flip through your menu, trying to decide on something. He reaches over to take it from you, giving the overeager waitress both your orders before sending her on her way. 
“Thanks,” you smile. Of course, he wants to say, I got you, baby. Instead he keeps his mouth shut, nodding in acknowledgment as he waits for you to start up a new conversation. You’re on about something to do with production, how you’re still not used to being important enough to have your own assistant on set, when the waitress returns with your drinks. Her hand linger on Toji’s glass, condensation dripping over her fingers as if she’s waiting for him to reach for the cup and brush his fingers over hers. It’s like something straight out of a romance movie and he might’ve found the humor in the attempt if it weren’t so annoying. Instead of reaching for his drink he sits back in his seat, arms crossed over his chest as he glowers at the girl. 
She interrupted your story about you assistant messing up your breakfast order yesterday, but you don’t seem bothered as you stick your straw in your drink, humming happily after the first sip. He ordered you one of those Shirley Temples that you always get, candied cherries floating in the soda and grenadine. After a beat longer of Toji’s unflinching glare, the waitress finally retreats with a quiet chirp about your food being out soon. You thank her and Toji wants to tell you not to waste your breath, but that would probably only confuse you. For as intuitive as you can be, you still haven’t grasped the fact that Toji would kill to be your man. It would almost be endearing how oblivious you are if it wasn’t grating on his last nerve. Here you are thanking a girl for flirting with him like it didn’t take every shred of his patience to not tell her to fuck off and leave him alone. 
“So, anyway,” you continue, twirling the straw wrapper between your fingers, “he’s so used to assisting Kyoko”–some other actress Toji’s heard of in passing–“that he never actually asked for my order and just came back with her usual. Apparently she likes tomatoes in her eggs but I had to pick them out. And my omelet still ended up tasting like tomatoes. It was so bad I couldn’t finish it.” You screw your face up like just recalling the story has brought the taste back to your tongue. Toji already knows about your aversion to tomatoes. He always reminds the wait staff to remove it from your order whenever you’re out together. All it took was one time watching you peel a tomato off your burger for him to commit the little quirk to memory. 
“You should get a new one,” he tells you. He’s had his fair share of assistants but they’re a rotating roster of equally intimidated people flinching every time he calls their name like he’s going to tell them to go play in traffic. Usually he just wants a drink or something from the restaurant up the street but something about Toji is just so suffocating that most assistants barely last through filming. There are very few people that can tolerate his terse personality but he’s glad you’re one of them. So pretty and so sweet like you don’t realize that everyone on the production staff avoids him unless it’s absolutely necessary to speak with him. It’s half reputation and half unmitigated judgment. Toji would like to think he’s not all bad. He can be cordial in a distant way when not provoked but so many people seem to have an expert ability to pluck at his nerves. 
“Nah, it’s fine.” You’re laughing like it isn’t a big deal that you weren’t able to eat because some inattentive staff member didn’t do their job correctly. “I told him what happened and he apologized, even asked if he should go and get me my actual order, but by then it was about time for filming to start.” You wave your hand dismissively. “It wasn’t anything serious.” Except it was because you’d had to go hungry because of someone’s incompetence. There’s a reason Toji is always taking you out. Most actresses have a habit of skimping on meals to look as trim as possible and he’s not about to let you starve because that’s what the media thinks looks best. He likes you just the way you are and, as far as Toji is concerned, his opinion is the only one that should matter. Not even your own as your food arrives and you whine about not being able to finish it all. 
“I’ve seen you eat more than that.” It comes out just a hair too harsh and he can see it settle over you as if he meant it as an insult. “It’s just pasta,” he says before you can get too in your head about it. “It looks like more than it is.” You grumble something under your breath, likely something snarky about how he doesn’t have to worry about portion control because you’re always saying how his stomach is a black hole. His physique is a testament to how far the human body can be pushed thanks to his tumultuous upbringing. A chasm of memories that don’t quite fit together, punched with holes like a moth-eaten shirt. Something about trauma and dissociation Shiu had said after a night of drunken oversharing. 
It sounded like he was reading off the first link he found in the search results while he was looking up why Toji was such an abrasive asshole all the time. Realistically, Toji knows he has things to work on just like he knows he doesn’t care enough to put in the effort. It is what it is and as far as he’s concerned the future is far more interesting than the brick wall his brain has built between the present and the past. The future has you and there’s not much he can think of that’s better than that. Not when you’re sitting across from him yapping about whatever pops into your head and happily eating the food he knew you’d like. 
“I mentioned in an interview once that I really liked this one author, and they’re releasing a new book soon. Apparently they sent me a signed advanced copy! There was a little handwritten note and everything!” It’s cute how you’re famous and still getting excited about another public figure acknowledging your existence. There’s something so genuine and humble in your happiness that seems to be missing from most of the big names he’s worked alongside. Toji isn’t always the easiest to work with considering how short his fuse is but he’s not one to take it out on people. He’s more hard stares and gruff one-liners while he’s seen other actors shout at the staff like they’re children needing to be scolded. So far, the egotistical people he’s worked with have enough sense not to snap at Toji directly. The only person that’s ever mouthed off to him is you, and it’s always within reason. He is a dick sometimes and you’re just so preoccupied with pleasing everyone that you’ll bite at him for being a bit too short with a co-star or snapping at a member of the wardrobe staff for taking too long for his liking. You make everything more pleasant for everyone involved. A little ray of sunshine in Toji’s otherwise dreary life. 
He was right about the food. You finish your pasta and two of your cherry drinks before Toji pays the tab, ignoring the waitress’ number written at the bottom of the receipt. He hardly notices the blue scribbles, but you do. It seems to flip a switch in your brain as you stare at it before Toji crumples it and shoves it into his pocket. You’re quiet as you leave the restaurant, going a few paces before you finally find your voice. 
“Are you gonna call her?” Your tone isn’t as playful as it usually is when you tease him about all the attention he draws. He’s gotten free drinks at bars and comped meals at restaurants because some waitress or bartender thought he was handsome. Toji has grown used to women giggling behind their hands as he passes and men peeking at him from the corner of their eye like he won’t notice. There’s a certain allure to his surliness that no one but you seems to be immune to. You and maybe Shiu. Usually the most you’ll give him is a laugh and a sarcastic quip about how he’s a public liability for all the attention he commands. Usually a joke about him stopping traffic. But you seem a bit more serious today, a bit more bothered than usual. For a second, Toji considers that he might be hearing things where you didn’t mean them. But then he catches the slight pout of your lips tinged red from your drink and he knows something’s up. 
“The waitress,” you say when he takes too long to answer, “she gave you her number, right?” It takes Toji a moment to realize this is the first time anyone has been so forward with their flirtations in front of you. Of course there were always the compliments and thinly veiled innuendos, but it never goes too far considering most people just assume the two of you are together like that. This waitress had taken a chance slipping him her number, but it’s not like Toji wants it. He hands you the rumpled receipt without a second thought. There at the bottom, in that same sparkly blue pen she used to take your order, is her name and number. 
“Kanna.” You say, eyes narrowing as you stare at the digits of her phone number. Toji decides to test the waters because there was certainly a hint of disdain in your voice as you read her name. You mumble something about her handwriting being messy and Toji can’t help but laugh. 
“Jealous, baby?” Sunlight dances over your lashes as your eyes snap to his face. He watches you try to hide your expression, your pout disappearing as you hand him back the receipt. He shoves it back in his pocket without a second glance because he knows you’d say something about littering if he dropped it on the ground just to prove a point.
“No.” You say it too quickly for it to be true. 
“Liar.” Toji laughs because you’re so clearly bothered. Usually someone making a pass at him wouldn’t get you so flustered but there’s something different about you today. You’re more openly affectionate. There’s still those moments of hesitation but you’ve been more free with grabbing his hand as you walk and leaning against him when you’re idle. That girl couldn’t have rattled you. She was hardly anything to look at, less so when Toji is constantly surrounded by a plethora of perfectly curated women that fit rigidly into the popular look of the moment. Trendsetting hairstyles and the latest designer clothes. You’re more subdued, less artificial in your style choices, yet he still finds you leagues more beautiful than anyone he’s ever seen before. Certainly more so than that random waitress and her glitter pen. 
Toji has to hold back a smile as you walk ahead of him. Taking three steps for every one of his and still only managing to stay a half step in front of him. He can tell you’re trying to distance yourself, arms crossed and lips pouted as you rush forward. Toji let’s you. It’s not like you’re far ahead and, lucky for him, you’re headed to the same place. The hotel is a few blocks away and Toji takes the time to enjoy the way the sun moves over your hair, golden light settling like a halo around your head. It’s only when you reach the towering silhouette of the hotel that the sun is eclipse and you go dull. Without the shower of gilded light you look more dejected than annoyed. A kicked puppy rather than an angry dog. You make it as far as the elevator before Toji decides he’s had enough of the running. His grip on your arm is as gentle as he can manage while keeping you from slipping away from him. His free hand finds your hip as the floors rush past. Your shuffling lifts your shirt ever so slightly and Toji finds his thumb brushing over the exposed skin above your waistband before he can contemplate the consequences.
Toji touches you all the time. As his on screen love interest, he’s inclined to be physically affectionate when the cameras are rolling. But even off screen he can’t help the way his true desires bleed into his actions. The media eats it up every time a picture of the two of you surfaces, the rumor mills running overtime to concoct a front page story for one tabloid or another. But that’s always been part of the show. The same way you leaned into him when that fan asked for a picture is the way he holds your waist on the red carpet. This is different. There are no cameras. No one to impress or enthrall. This is simply Toji wanting to touch you, and you letting him. The feeling of his fingers dipping beneath the hem of your shirt have gotten you to go still, leaning back into his chest as he watches your reflection in the polished metal of the elevator doors. 
“Let go.” It’s only the two of you in the elevator and yet your voice is no louder than a whisper. Toji scoffs, hands loosening little by little. 
“You want me to?” 
“No.” Your voice is even smaller than before. The quietest admission like you’re unsure of it yourself. Still, Toji lets go and watches you stumble because you were leaning so heavily against him. 
Immediately he can feel the absence of your warmth against his chest, but he’ll let you come back to him. He’s made his intentions clear. From here, the choice is yours. When the doors ding open, you nearly sprint down the hall and Toji assumes you’ve made your choice. He can live with it. He doesn’t blame you for it. The moments you’ve shared together always felt a bit too good to be true, just as perfect as when the cameras are rolling. But you stop in the middle of the hallway. Your room is further down but you don’t move to go any further, as if something has rooted you to that place. Toji sets a leisurely pace in his approach. 
There’s the expectation that you’ll go running off again the moment he gets too close like a rabbit evading a wolf, but you surprise him with your stillness. Even as he recaptures your waist, hands more purposefully dipping under your shirt as he pulls you into his chest. This isn’t the place for it. A picture like this would be a PR nightmare and he’d never hear the end of it from Shiu. But Toji can’t bring himself to worry about that right now. Instead he asks which room you want to go to. His is closer but he doesn’t doubt you’d be more comfortable in your own. You lead the way, swiping your card to unlock the door before pulling him inside. 
After a month of filming, you’ve turned this temporary situation into your own. It smells like you more than any industrial strength cleaner that the housekeepers use. He recognizes the smell of your shampoo and that scented lotion that you love so much. The bed is freshly made and that damn duck that a fan gifted you months ago is propped up against the pillows next to the remote. A bit of tension leaks from your shoulders as you laugh and explain that the housekeepers have been doing this for weeks, setting a cute little scene for you to return to after they’ve straightened up the room. You set the remote and duck on the nightstand as you sit at the edge of the bed, perched as if you don’t want to crease the freshly steamed linens. You look nervous and it stops Toji from wandering further than the little entryway. He’s flanked by a closet and a mirror just like in his room but he can’t take his eyes off you. Your hands are tucked between your thighs and he tries not to focus on the way you’re shifting and squirming, squeezing your legs together. 
He can almost see the heat flooding through your body and he’s more than capable of flushing it out if you’ll just ask him to. He feels like a leashed dog waiting for the command to pounce. He reaches up to brace his arms against the dropped ceiling annexing the entryway from the rest of the room. For all your silence, your body is speaking for itself. Toji’s eyes don’t miss the way your throat bobs as you swallow, eyes focused on the way his arms flex above his head. 
“I can’t tell you what to do,” Toji says even though he really wants to. He knows you’d listen, too. But this isn’t something he can script and direct. You have to decide for yourself, give him the words he’s looking to hear. “You gotta tell me what you want, baby.” He sees the little pet name land, watches how you dip your chin and look up at him through your lashes. Embarrassed and he hasn’t even done anything yet. 
“Don’t make me,” you mumble. It’s so starkly different from the sultry confidence he sees on set, a true testament to your skills as you struggle to find the words to say you want him. Because he knows you do. It’s clear in the way you keep stealing glances at him even as you point your face away, hiding like he can’t see the way your teeth nip nervously at your lip. 
“I won’t.” He agrees. “Won’t make you do anything you don’t want to, so you gotta tell me. What do you want, baby?” 
Toji wants to think he’d be able to turn tail and head back to his own room if you denied him, take a cold shower and forget this ever happened, but he knows it’s a lie. He’s already so swept up in your orbit that denial would feel like a punch to the gut. He’s taken worse, but not from you. It would be like sucking the air from his lungs. It’s gotten so bad that he can’t imagine a day without you. Work was only a pretense. He got to see you everyday because you were contractually obligated. Now you’re far past coworkers hanging around each other because it’s what the job demands. He likes to think you see him as a friend, maybe something more. He could live with just being a friend as long as it means he gets to spend time in your bed. He’s got so few people that he talks to on a day to day basis that Toji imagines it wouldn’t really make a difference what you called him as long as you do call him. 
Finally, you don’t say his name, or anything really, but you extend a hand towards him and he rushes forward like a tsunami swallowing the shoreline. He kneels and tries not to think of how stupid he must look prostrating himself at your feet. You don’t seem to think any less of him for his poorly concealed eagerness. It's a desire grown over years of working alongside you. A sort of desperation that will knock the breath out of your lungs as soon as you give him the go ahead. Because Toji has had women. Countless, faceless. He’s slept with enough people to know this feels different. He wonders if this is what it's like for desire to feel real. Because why else would he be so hung up on you after so long. He’s not a man after a chase. He won’t run after anyone. Unless it’s you. He’s been running so fucking hard that he’s nearly out of breath and here he is so close to the finish line in a marathon he hadn’t realized he was running. And you’re the prize brushing his hair back and touching the scar at the corner of his mouth like he’s something to be gentle with. 
“You scare me.” He hears you say it through waves of blood rushing in his ears. He’s familiar with fear but never from you. From day one you’d been strangely calm around him. Like a deer sitting beside a mountain lion without a care in the world. Toji knows he’s something to be afraid of. He’s lived his life. He knows exactly how dangerous he is, how terrifying he must seem. It was stupid to think you were above that fear just because you smiled at him. 
“I’m scared you’re gonna hurt me.” You say softly. But you’re still touching him. Humans tame predators, he reminds himself. A wolf can be turned into a dog with the proper treatment. He thinks again of how he’s kneeling at your feet. He’s been tamed–whipped as Shiu called it–by you. 
“M’not gonna hurt you.” He tries to work the gravel from his voice, to sound less brooding as he reassures you. It doesn’t work. He’s set in stone. Too old to learn a new trick. If you’ll have him, Toji will be whatever you need, but you gotta take him as he is. Because it’s all he has to give. 
“Promise?” Your tone is so soft he half expects you to stick out your pinky or make him cross his heart. 
“I promise.”
“I’m serious, Toji. I don’t want to be just another girl to you. If we do this, we’re doing this. You can’t use me and leave me. I won’t let you.” He hears the unspoken words. I won’t let you hurt me. So that’s what you meant. Of course you aren’t afraid of him. You’re scared in the way everyone seemed to be of each other. Scared to commit, scared to be vulnerable. Toji loathes to think he feels the same. Rejection would hurt if it came from you. But it hasn’t. You’re still playing with his hair and Toji hears a damning thought surface in his head; I could marry this girl. He shoves it down before it can fully form. It’s too soon, too optimistic. He knows who he is as much as he tries to be better when he’s with you. Toji could hurt you. Get scared and break your heart. He knows if he did he’d never see you again. 
No more stupid videos getting sent to him at 5AM because you’re in the makeup chair at the crack of dawn. No more ordering your food because you can’t ever get the words out yourself. No more shoving you to the inside of the sidewalk because you like balancing along the curb as you walk. He could live without seeing you on set ever again. That had only been a symptom. The root of it was simply you. In any way he could have you. 
It’s pathetic but he’s addicted in a way he never thought possible. Never let himself think it was possible. Not for a guy like him. Movies gave him an outlet for his more violent tendencies. He would’ve done just as well as a boxer or something else where he could get paid to rough people up in a way that was above board. He’d done it the illegal way for years. Got away with it too. You have every right to be scared of him. Every right to leave him. But in this moment you’re here and he’s selfish. He leans up to kiss you. 
It doesn’t feel new. There’s no picturesque fireworks clouding his head. It isn’t new. He’s kissed you a hundred times over by now. It doesn’t feel new, but it feels right. Especially without the motivation of a camera. He isn’t kissing a character, he’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him. 
“Stop thinking so hard.” Because Toji can tell by the way your hands flutter over his shoulders with nervous uncertainty that you’re not all here. You’re thinking about this like someone is going to snap at you for messing up an angle or pressing too close and smearing your makeup. He hears you mumble a feeble apology. 
“None of that. We’re doing this, baby. You and me. Don’t think about anything else.” That gets you to loosen up enough for Toji to work you out of your clothes. He’s never had the pleasure. There’s never been a reason for his hands to be pressing underneath your shirt and it feels like his hands are melting into your skin as they push towards your chest, taking your shirt with them. You’re warm and pliant, softening like butter under his touch. Toji gets you out of your shirt with a bit too much eagerness, ruffling your hair as you squeak at his desperation. He can’t even find it in him to care if he looks overeager now because he is. 
He’s been after you for years and he’s not about to let this opportunity slip through his fingers. Beneath your clothes is an endless expanse of skin hidden only by the covering of your underwear. Plain cotton, nothing special, but it has him throbbing in his pants because it’s you. And you have the audacity to mumble about “didn’t know we were doing this, would’ve worn something nicer,” like Toji isn’t practically drooling at the way your pretty blue panties sit on your hips. He thumbs at the elastic, pulling it back just to hear it snap against your skin. It’s like unwrapping a gift and he’s looking to savor it. 
“They’re gonna know,” he says as he kisses along the shape of your breasts peeking out the top of your bra. He could put a mark there. Bite down on the soft skin and leave a print of his teeth in your skin, put a bruise there with his greedy mouth as he licks at the line where skin meets fabric, hiding the rest of you away in the cups of your bra. He could mark you up and they’d know. Everyone would know exactly who did it because Toji isn’t ashamed to admit he’s been after you like a dog, barking at anyone that got even remotely too close for comfort. A co-star could simply be complimenting the outfit wardrobe had chosen for a particular scene and he’d be looming behind them with murder in his eyes. Of course you look gorgeous but only he should get to look that hard at you. 
“Don’t!” You squeak when he noses over your skin, looking for a place to sink his teeth. “Don’t leave any marks!” He almost wants to ignore you and latch his mouth on to you anyway, but Toji resists the urge. You’ve asked him to behave and he wants to be a gentleman for you. Or, at least, the closest a man like him can get to it. He can still tease you about it, though. 
“No?” He mocks you. “You don’t want me to leave any marks? What, you got someone else that gets to see you like this, baby?” You squirm at his patronizing tone, a pout working its way onto your lips. He nips at your bottom lip before smoothing the expression with a kiss. 
“You know that’s not what I meant,” you whine. “Makeup and–” He kisses you again, slipping his tongue between your parted lips, because of course he knows. Makeup would make a fuss if he left marks on your neck, wardrobe would pitch a fit if they found hickeys in a place their designated outfits couldn’t cover. You’d be in the makeup chair even longer as they painted over all the places he’d marked you up. 
“You taste like cherries.” He mumbles against your mouth. The taste has him fumbling for his pants like a fucking virgin because it’s so innate to you. Those little fruity drinks you love so much have him pressing painfully against his zipper. Toji has you leaned up against the pillows as he sits back on his knees to pull his shirt off. He doesn’t miss the way your thighs twitch, pressing tighter together at the sight of him looming over you bare-chested. He doesn’t toss his shirt far because he wants to see you wearing it later. Right now you smell like you. Your lotion, your shampoo. He can’t wait to tired you out and wrap you up in his clothes until you smell like him. 
He wants to mark you up in other ways if he can’t do it with his lips. So everyone knows exactly who you belong to. The idea that you had to make him swear to not let this be a one off kind of thing is utterly laughable when Toji hasn’t wanted to stray away from you since nearly the first time you met. Nothing anyone else has to offer could be better than what you can give him. Although he’s happy that the little waitress tried. You wouldn’t have been so worked up if she hadn’t. He’s been teetering on the edge of insanity being so close to you everyday and it’s nice that he’s finally caught a glimpse of what you’re like when you get so wrapped up in your mind that you start acting out of character. Because Toji hasn’t felt this crazy over anyone and he’s glad he’s not suffering this lovestruck psychosis alone. It’s dumb and childish but he’s got so little in his life that’s sweet and pure that he isn’t about to poison this with toxic hang ups about maintaining his persona.
“Did it make you mad, baby?” He asks as he bullies his way between your legs. You move with him, thighs parting to give him space even as you shrink back into the pillows, brows pinched as you watch him settle his cheek against your thigh. “Did that girl at the restaurant upset you?” He wants to hear you admit it. He smirks at the way you screw up your face, nose scrunching in distaste at the mention of another woman. 
“Don’t say things like that when we’re like this,” you grumble, jerking the leg he’s resting on. He bites at you in retaliation and because he wants to hear you squeak about leaving marks again. 
“You are mad.” He smirks and watches the way your cheeks puff indignantly as you pout at him. He wants to kiss that petulant little expression off your face but Toji can’t bring himself to move even an inch away from where he’s resting. With his face cushioned by the pillowy warmth of your thighs he can see the mess spreading between your legs. A dark spot is forming in your panties, getting bigger with every shift of your hips. Toji slips a finger under the elastic and can practically hear the sound of the fabric sticking to your skin. It makes his mind go blank and all he can think about is getting closer. He blinks and suddenly his face is buried at the apex of your thighs, panting like a dog as he noses against the soiled fabric, tongue chasing the taste of you seeping through the cotton. 
“Wait!” You squeak, and he tries to. He pulls back but only far enough to look up at you. His nose stays nuzzled against the seam of your cunt, brushing against where your clit is throbbing through the fabric. 
“What’s wrong?” He asks even though he can think of a few things as his finger drags through the space between your panties and pussy, making a slick noise that has him grinding against the mattress. So fucking wet. 
“Nothing…” Toji recognizes the face you make in an instant. He’s seen it a hundred times over by now. It always reminds him of a puzzle the way you fix your expression whenever a camera is rolling. It’s always your mouth first. Smile dropped, pout gone, lips pressed into a neutral line. He sees every piece of your face fall into place until it’s perfectly blank. He watches you awhile longer until your composure breaks again and your brows dip into something resembling anxiety. 
“Nervous, baby?” He doesn’t need you to answer but you do anyway, nodding slowly. “I’ve got you. You’re okay. Just lemme take care of you, okay?” You nod again and Toji rewards the loosening of your muscles with a gentle kiss to your stomach. “Behave.” He says and watches the way you tense up again. It’s less nerves, more anticipation as you watch him slink back between your legs. He decides to spare your underwear, pulling them down nice and proper instead of tearing them off of you like he’s so desperate to do. It takes a few seconds longer and gives you a chance to knock your knees together as he sits up to pull the bundle of fabric off your ankles. 
“What did I say?” He asks, loving the way the timbre of his voice seems to send a shiver through your prone body. “Behave.” You don’t resist as he spreads your legs again but you start to squirm the longer he stares. Toji has spent many a night in the privacy of his hotel room fisting his dick to whatever image of you his mind could conjure but nothing could come close to the real thing. 
“S’pretty, baby.” He mumbles, tongue tripping over the words. He’s just lost any semblance of cognitive function. All he can see is you, spread out and dripping on the sheets, and he can’t wait another second to get his mouth on you. 
I’m gonna marry this girl, he can’t help the thought as your lashes flutter and lips part the moment he gets his mouth on your pussy. You’re still nervous, twitching and squirming like you aren’t sure what to do with yourself. Toji decides for you, arms hooking under your legs to hold you still. That still leaves your hands to flutter anxiously, skating over where his fingers dig into the meat of your thighs and brushing across his hair like you’re afraid to touch him. It makes him groan in annoyance, the sound humming against your clit. It makes you go limp, hands falling still. One rests against his head and the other over his hand. Toji loosens his grip on your leg just enough to thread his fingers through yours, pointedly ignoring how intimate the small touch feels even though he has his tongue buried in your pussy. He’s being greedy, tonguing at your hole and nosing against your clit as your cunt makes a mess of his face, but the moment is softened by the way your fingers squeeze around his. 
He feels your nails against his scalp. Not quite gripping, more so petting and it feels like something akin to a reward as he makes a mess between your legs. You don’t tense up again and Toji realizes the idle movement of your hands is grounding you even as your thighs shake around his head. He can barely breathe but he can’t even fathom pulling away when you’re making such pretty noises and trying to grind your hips against his face. You’re slurring something between those soft sighs that sounds an awful lot like “thank you,” and Toji wrenches his mouth away from you because he’s one more head scratch away from cumming in his pants like some virgin. He doesn’t even bother to get his underwear down all the way. He just shoves the waistband low enough to get his dick out and nearly collapses on top of you the second he feels your cunt against his skin. 
Toji braces an arm beside your head, leaning close enough to feel your breath ghosting across his skin. He kisses you to get you to close your eyes, but he keeps his half lidded as he watches you squirm as you taste yourself on his tongue. The mess you’ve left on his face transfers to yours as he rubs his face against your cheek like a needy puppy. It would be more embarrassing if you weren’t acting just as clinging. He can feel the needling sensation of your nails digging into his shoulder. It sends shivers down his spine, lingering just right on the cusp of pain and pleasure. Toji tries to kiss you again but it ends up being more of a heady clashing of teeth and tongue as he presses his parted lips against yours. Still tastes like cherries, he thinks, enjoying the mix between sweet and savory as the taste of your arousal still sticks to his tongue. 
“Don’t look at me like that,” he groans as you press a wet kiss to the corner of his mouth, right where his scar is. And because you’re so frustratingly sweet you blink up at him, slow and wide like the little doe eyed beauty that you are, and ask, “Like what?”
“Like that,” Toji groans as you raise your brows and tilt your head, lips pulling into another one of your signature pouts. “Fuck, turn over.” He hooks an arm under your back and flips you fast enough to leave you gasping. Your hand flutters to find him again where it’s settled against your heaving stomach. He can feel your pulse flutter as you catch your breath, body shivering with something softer than anxiety. Anticipation weaves its way through your body. Toji can tell in the way you tense and relax at each minute movement he makes. He decides to tease you as he fists the base of his cock, squeezing hard to keep from cumming on the smooth expanse of your back. His hand moves from your stomach to leave you teetering on quivering arms as he trails his finger up your spine. You bend to match his touch, arching as his fingertip traces over the contours of your back. Goosebumps raises where he touches and you shiver, head falling between your shoulders. 
Toji takes advantage of the vulnerable position. Your hair is usually down during filming and there’s little reason for that to change in the coming days so he feels little guilt about the way his teeth scrape against the nape of your neck. It makes your arms give out and Toji’s teeth tighten on the soft skin as your new position presses you back against his hips. He hadn’t meant to leave a mark but there’s likely to be one now. He pulls away, lapping apologetically at the faint indent of his teeth before grabbing your hips to keep you flush against him. If you move again he’s going to ruin the sheets instead of you, but you’re still squirming like you want him to embarrass himself by coming too soon. It becomes plainly clear that your intention is to kill him as you toss your hair over your shoulder and look up at him through your lashes, mumbling a soft “are you gonna fuck me now?” 
The answer is a resounding yes and Toji can’t bring himself to think of anything else as he guides his dick inside you. This time he does collapse, falling forward before he can catch himself. It pushes him inside in one go and you let out a long whine, grinding against him as Toji rests his forehead against the back of your neck. You’re starting to sweat now with all that wiggling you’ve been doing and he licks along the column of your neck to distract from the way your pussy is choking his dick. He can hear you whining, feel it too with the way his chest is flush against your back. A soft litany of “please,” and “move,” with his name punctuating each little gasp. He can feel you trying to grind against him, held still partially by the weight of his body. He’s got you almost completely pinned and decided to finish the job. You squeak as he presses his knee against yours, spreading your legs until you collapse onto your stomach. 
“Stay there,” he says like you have any hope of moving without him peeling his heavy body off of you. He has no intentions of doing anything remotely close to that as he shoves a pillow under your hips and his arm under your jaw. 
“Comfy?” He asks. He can feel the way your cheeks are squished in the crook of his arm as you try to nod and go back to begging. He nips at the shell of your ear, soothing the sting with his tongue, as he pulls his hips back. You’re close. He can feel it in the way your pussy is desperate to keep him inside, squeezing tight every time he pulls away. It’s got him on the edge, filling the hotel room with the heavy sound of skin against skin. He’s glad the bed is so sturdy. 
There’s no squeaking or knocking headboard as he drives you up the mattress with his desperate rutting. He gets a hand between you and the sheets to pinch at your nipples, rolling the sensitive buds between his fingers. It makes you keen and that’s the only thing Toji can’t be bothered to keep quiet. He wants to hear every little sound you make after giving him so much lip about the waitress. You had so much to say earlier and he’s only too happy to hear you out. Neighbors be damned. It’s likely the floor is mostly if not completely vacant given that two celebrities are boarding here but Toji can’t help but want you to be loud in case there’s anyone to hear. This all feels a bit too much like a dream and he’d relish a noise complaint just to make it all seem real. 
“You feel so good, baby.” Toji grunts in your ear. “So good for me.” Something like a giggle works its way out of your mouth and Toji almost tells you to shut up because the sound goes straight to his dick. His hand leaves your breasts to find that spot between your legs. Your breathing stutters as his calloused fingers find your clit. It’s like lighting a fuse. You start up your squirming again, nails scratching at his arm tucked under your chin like you’re trying to get away. It takes Toji a second to realize that you are. Curling up on yourself, trying to run from the feeling of his body on yours. You’re not saying anything, but you are drooling. He can feel it slicking down his forearm as he loosens his hold just enough to make sure you’re not suffocating under his strength. He can hear those stuttering little breaths and soft mewls that are soon accompanied by a hand pushing blindy at his wrist. 
“Fuck no,” Toji grumbles. His hand leaves your clit just long enough to roll you onto your back. He hears a little sigh of relief as you relax into the sheets for a moment. There are tears sparkling in your eyes and wetting your lashes. Your whole face is shining with sweat and spit and it makes Toji a little prideful to see you so thoroughly ruined because of him. 
“You gonna be good for me, baby? Gonna behave?” He asks once you catch your breath. Before you can answer he’s already gathering your wrists in one hand to press them into the pillows above your head while his other hand slaps his dick against your messy cunt. He grinds the head of his cock against your clit, precum staining your skin as he teases you, asking if it feels good. He huffs out a laugh when you nod. It’s so earnest, so desperate. 
“Yeah it does. You don’t have to run from it, baby. Lemme make you feel good. Want you to feel good for me.” He pants, leaning down until you’re nose to nose as he presses back inside you. The sound you make is lost in the press of your lips as Toji lavishes you with more sloppy kisses. He can feel himself teetering on the edge, balls tightening with each little whine that leaves your lips. His hand finds its way back between your legs and he has your back arching within seconds. He can feel you trying to pull away again, arms tugging at where he has you pinned even as your greedy legs lock around his waist. He can feel your muscles trembling as he draws tight circles on your clit, whole body pulling taut as you get closer to the edge. 
The only words leaving your mouth are his name and soft gasps of “please, please, please,” like Toji is in any position to deny you what you want. He lets go of your wrists if only because he knows you won’t try to run from him now. Instead your arms wrap around him, pulling with enough strength to catch him off guard. Toji nearly collapses on top of you as you pull him into a surprisingly chaste kiss. A shudder runs down his back as your nails drag against his scalp and it’s all just a bit too much. Your pussy milking him like you’re trying to get pregnant–belatedly, he realizes he should’ve worn a condom–and your lips in his ear telling him to let go.
“Wanna feel it. Want it inside,” you whine. It’s so damningly sweet that Toji can’t find it in himself to even attempt to deny you. The thought of pulling out had briefly crossed his mind but your thighs are still locked around his waist and he isn’t above doing something stupid to satisfy himself. The consequences can be dealt with later. He lasted longer than he expected but there’s no mistaking how pent up Toji has been as he cums inside you. He fills you up and then some, feeling it leaking out. The tension bleeds from his body as he curls over you, grip loosening on your wrists enough that you wriggling free to wrap your arms around his shoulders. There’s the prickling heat of your nails scratching at him as you wrap yourself tight around him like you never want him to leave. Toji returns the favor. You shiver, a happy little sigh leaving your lips as he wraps his arms around you. 
“Clingy,” he says quietly, still loud enough for you to hear and he feels the way your arms tense then loosen, trying to pull away like you missed the humor in his voice. “Stop it.” He mutters, sitting back up to pull you into his lap. 
Usually Toji isn’t one to stick around after he’s gotten what he wants out of an encounter but the usual instinct to peel his partner off of him as soon as possible is absent with you. He revels in the way your head rests against his chest, soft breathes ghosting across his skin. Toji’s hands find your waist, fingers sinking into the softness of your skin as he lifts you just enough to pull out. There’s a puddle forming on the sheets from the way he’s leaking out of you and he entertains the thought of plugging his fingers inside you for half a second before remembering how stupid that would be after he already came inside you with no protection. You don’t seem too worried about it and Toji supposes that’s all that matters. He watches the way the mood settles into something less frenzied, more coherent, but the anger never comes. He’s expecting you to snap at him for being so careless but all he gets is a soft smile and even softer kisses. The taste of cherries still lingers. 
“We should do something about that,” he says, eyes still trained on the space between your bodies. Stained white and sticky from how hard he was fucking you. It streaks up your thighs and shines bright on his pelvis, staining the freshly changed sheets. You blink slow, like a kitten, before finally acknowledging the mess between your legs. 
“Should be fine, I’m on the pill. I’ll stop by the store later if you’re worried.” He’s not. Part of him wishes you hadn’t mentioned birth control. He’s selfish when it comes to you and even though it would be the worst outcome, Toji finds himself wondering what it would’ve been like if he did get you pregnant. Then he remembers your careers and lets the thought slip away into the recesses of his mind. It’s a desire for a later date because you’ve already said this isn’t gonna be a one and done kind of thing. There’s time for things to get more serious, to have a proper discussion instead of letting it happen on a whim. He clings to the idea of a future with you because that’s really all he has. As soon as he set eyes on you, you began to infiltrate his every thought like a weed invading his mind. But you’re not a weed, far too pretty for that. And even if you were, he likes the way you cloud his mind. Gives him something sweet to think about when there’s always been such a lack of nice things in his life. He kisses your neck, tasting sweat and perfume. After a while he gathers you up and makes you decent enough to make the trip to his room. 
“I owe Shiu money.” He groans halfway through his shower. You’re sitting just outside the tiny cubicle, perched on the toilet. Freshly washed and wearing his shirt just like he wanted. 
“You made a bet about me with your manager?” He hears the uncertainty in your voice even over the spray of water and realizes how the admission must sound. He shuts off the water and steps out into a cloud of steam to see you looking crestfallen. There’s a hesitance on your face that makes his stomach churn. Anxiety isn’t something Toji is entirely familiar with and he finds that he hates the way the acidic feeling settles in his chest. 
“Not like that, baby. He just knows how much I’ve been wanting you. He called me on my bullshit years ago.” It would be embarrassing admitting that he’s been pining after you for so long if you didn’t smile and try to hide your face. He hears you mumble, “Thought it was just me,” as you tuck your face into the collar of his shirt to cover your smile. There’s a tremble or hesitance in your voice like you can’t believe Toji would pay you the time of day, like he wasn’t just chomping at the bit to get you in bed. It’s a fair assumption given his usually detached disposition that so few people take the time to see past. You’re one of them but he can appreciate the air of unknowns that lingers around him. Toji is just like he seems on camera. 
Rude, abrasive, volatile when provoked. He acts something like a grizzled guard dog but even they have people they’re gentle for. It’s almost sickening how easily he can see himself with you. Made worse by how easily you accept him. You’re giving him that look again, like he’s your favorite person in the world. 
“What’s that look?” He asks as you watch him get dressed. He brought you to his room so you can nap on an unsoiled bed. He wonders if the housekeepers will tuck your duck in again after washing his cum out of your sheets. 
“What look?” You have the nerve to ask like you’re not looking at him with more softness than he’s seen in his entire life. He decides not to mention it. The need for discretion that Shiu has been trying to drill into him will be lost in the wind soon enough. Toji already couldn’t take his eyes off you and now he has more reason to be with you all the time. Media be damned, he’s gonna be all over you now that you’re his, officially. And you seem to share the sentiment as you curl up on top of him as soon as he gets in bed, humming happily when his arms find your waist. He hears a sleepy murmuring of “I’m your girlfriend,” soft and giggly like you couldn’t be more happy about it. It’s like a final nail in the coffin for Toji. He’s always thought of you as his girl and now it’s finally real. No cameras, no audience. Unscripted and real. 
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lordofdestructionm · 2 years
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Crimson's right hand shark
A character that stayed in the background but might just be important
It is interesting that out of all the nameless random henchman he is the one that is both physically and professionally closest to Crimson
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He has been a part of the family for a long time, having been involved in setting up the living target practice when Moxxie was little
He is almost always next to Crimson. On the morning of the "wedding" he is at the table pouring the boss his coffee. We know there are servant imps in the house but its his right hand guy doing it and Crimson even shoots him a very quick smile before he see's Chaz
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When Moxxie finally stands up to his father Crimson simply has to give him a look what to signal what he want done
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He attends the "wedding" with Crimson and interestingly is the only henchman that not only does not fight, but that Crimson doesn't order to attack despite throwing some of his other employees
The shark himself is also the only person that does not react at all when Millie is on her rampage. Even Crimson is intimidated but he stays cool
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It could be nothing but its strange that when they could have just used any generic goon they choose to put emphasis on this guy as a stand out character
Funnily enough even the Helluva Boss Lead Animator has made some...interesting... art of these two
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Hilarious but also makes me wonder if Crimson's homophobia is a form of projection? Because this coupled with him covering the house in dicks is strange behaviour for a guy who makes out he is aggressively straight.
Why else would sleeping with his very beautiful wife be such a problem? Something he seems extremely reluctant to do?
Even some fans are already picking up on this and making fan art. Even some shippy stuff. Do go to twitter and check it out and support these talented artists
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Will be interesting to see if this goes anywhere when Crimson's story continues
Update: Vivziepop has confirmed his name is Alessio
That makes the ship name either Crim n al or Criminale
Update 2
Though only in the episode briefly there is a strange detail during the meeting between Crim and Striker. Alessio's usually neutral/grumpy enforcer expression has been replaced with something that looks like sadness
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It seems like a very deliberate choice even if its a blink and you'll miss it moment. Why would Crimson meeting with Striker make him sad?
Is he worried he is going to be replaced as the number one guy by this younger and in universe very good looking cowboy?
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Well hopefully not as at the end when the building collapses its implied Alessio is the reason Crimson got out alive with his mom hand gesture at him just before the building collapsed.
The actual subtitles even draw attention to it
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Maybe it will remind Crim why its better to have his truly loyal shark at his side than a snake?
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