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smutallyouwant · 1 month ago

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BINI VERSZE chpt. 1

It's this time of the year

Aiah Arceta x M! Reader

Word Count: 1.8 k words

The dialogue that I will be using in this smut will be Tagalog, but the narration would still be in English. I specifically made this smut for Pinoy fans and I think it's better to use Tagalog for its dialogue. Anyways, enjoy!

Christmas eve passed like nothing and new year's eve is fast approaching. It was fun while it lasted but it's this time of the year where you're always having a blast before the year ends.

You're walking in the nearby park from your town in Lapu-lapu Cebu where you're expecting to meet a familiar face.

Not a minute has passed and you can already see the familiar and calming face of a girl, now a woman approaching while you're sat down on a bench.

" Oyy kumusta!? " You shouted in order to get her attention.

" Uyyy!?? Kumusta hahaha, gagi ano ginagawa mo dito? " She asked.

" Wala naman nag papa hangin lang ako, sarap kasi ng hangin ngayun dahil sa pasko "

You said, knowing that you're waiting here expecting to meet her because you heard that she came here in your province last night after spending Christmas in Manila where she now works in a Girl group.

" Kelan ka umuwi? Akala ko dito ka mag papasko hahahaha " you added.

" Oo dito sana ako mag papasko, kaso nasa Manila rin sila mama so we decided na sa New Year nalang kami umuwi dito mag kakasama " she said with that beautiful and innocent smile.

" Ahhh sigee gagi, miss ka na nila mama kaya pumunta ka samin mamaya ha if hindi ka pagod or busy "

" Sigee Y/N pupunta ako, gusto ko rin makita sila tita and I missed youu! Hahahaha " she teased you with laughter.

" Hahahahha I miss you too! " Both of you laughed.

" Sigee ingat ka, pauwi na rin ako " you then pleaded goodbye to her.

" Okay, ingat ka rin, hintayin mo ' ko dun mamaya " she said with a smile before jogging away from you.

Her calming voice and bare face also her hot figure made you so turned on that when you took a bath after going home, you've been fapping while thinking of doing her.

You can't believe how she grew up from what you have known about her, it's only been 1 year that you can only look at her in photos but she's been looking prettier and prettier each time you see her in person.

After taking a bath, you went to your room to play some games on your computer.

After a few hours, you can hear laughter from outside through your headphones. You removed them so you can hear it properly.

" Opo tita hehe na miss ko po kayoo! "

" Andyan po ba si Y/N? "

" Oo nak, maupo ka muna dyan at tatawagin ko "

As you heard your mother say that, you quickly took a peek outside and you saw Aiah sitting on your sofa.

Tangina sana hindi pa siya nag babago

You said inside your head.

" Huy hanap ka ni Aiah " your mom whispered.

" Sige ma papuntahin mo dito, nag lalaro kasi ako eh " you said.

After that, you quickly quit your game and waited for Aiah to come into your room.

*door opened

" Hii hehe " Aiah whispered.

" Ughh, fuck ~mhhh tangina sarap " Aiah moaned while leaning towards your desk.

Not a minute has passed and she's already taking back shots from you in front of your mirror desk, no bottom, only her white top and glasses.

" Akala ko nagbago ka na eh, sino mag aakala na ang mama marry nila ay ganto ka horny? Hahaha "

" eh lagi mo naman akong iniiyot tuwing andito ako ah? Hinintay mo pa talaga ako kanina sa park? " she said while looking at you seductively.

She pulled you for a kiss, her familiar lips and sweet tongue tastes like paradise. Her innocent and beautiful face turning into this horny face she makes as you make love with her— the seductive graze of her nails into your scalp and hair made you pummel her harder as she releases breath and gently moans every thrust.

" ~~mhhh, ~mhhh, ugh, tangina, ~mhh" her breathy moans every pound you make made you so turned on that you're reaching your climax already.

" Ahh! Nnghh ! " She gritted her teeth.

" Tangina mo, sige pa, mhhh malapit na ako "

Her breathy moans turned into more fluent loud cursing, her hand that's pulling your hair was now on the desk, both her hands gripped into the corner of the desk as you give her back shots, she leaned over the mirror more and bent her waist and pull her ass up.

You palmed both her ass cheeks, Aiah's eyes rolled up with her mouth open, you can feel her inside twitching and releasing fluids while she can't control her body and began twitching too, the overwhelming pleasure made her unable to moan but to actively open her mouth while you bang her as she climaxed.

She finally came into her senses that she is able to finally breath after you said that you're cumming too.

" Whoo, haaah! tangina grabe " she said.

" Aiah lalabasan na ako, pwede ba sa loob? "

" Huwag! Putok mo nalang sa bibig ko "

Aiah then removed her glasses and knelt down to swallow your dick. Your shaft effortlessly slides down her throat as you held her hair from both sides while she matches the pace of your movements with her head game giving you the best fellatio of your life.

" tangina ang galing mo na chumupa Aiah, ilan na kayang tite nasipsip mo sa Manila? "

She's looking at you the whole time and it made you cum in her mouth faster.

" Lalabasan na ako " you whispered.

Aiah fastened up the pace before you burrowed your dick into her throat filling it up with your semen.

Her nail dug into your thighs as she held them. Her eyes rolled up as she takes your load, her tongue still works licking your shaft inside. Drools came out of her mouth but no cum to be seen, she swallowed it all and she didn't even choke once. She looked at you with that innocent but somewhat seductive smile as she swept the drool on her face.

" Bakit ang tigas pa nyan? Hahahaha " she asked with a smile.

" Tangina sarap mo kasi tingnan eh "

You said before pulling her on the bed.

You went to your computer to have music on your speaker, you played " Cherry on top " by. BINI.

" Oyy Bloom? Hahahha " Aiah teased.

" Oo pero gusto ko, Aiah on top "

Aiah sat on you and removed her top, she led your face in her tits for you to suckle on it.

" Mhhh, sige dedein mo sila "

You suckled on her boobs as she aligned her pussy into your pulsing cock, she grinded on it. Her head bent over the back while you sucked into her nipples hard making her squeal .

" ~~mhhh, shit, shit, shit , tanginaaaa~~~ "

She cursed as she fastened the pace of her grinding. She pulled you for a deep kiss as she leaned over to do that up-and-down motion with her ass bouncing on your dick, you palmed both her ass cheeks in response.

" I'm the cherry on top, cherry on top " music plays in the background.

" Gusto ko Y/N on top naman " she teased you with a seductive stare.

You wasted no time and quickly fucked her missionary style. Her hands are wrapped up in your neck as you give your all into pummeling your dick into her pussy.

" Gusto mo ba ako putukan sa loob? " She said with an innocent face.

You responded with a nod and a kiss.

" Pwede naman, gusto mo ba itry anal? Hehe " she added.

" Tangina ang libog mo Aiah Arceta " you said with a smirk before turning her over.

She asked you to get her purse where she brought a lube. But you quickly spread her ass cheeks and licked her booty hole.

" Hoy gago! Ughhhh tangina " she moaned.

" Hindi na kailangan nun " you said.

You licked her hole before putting in one finger. Aiah moaned in pain and pleasure.

" Ohhhhh~~ tangina gagi, masakit pero sobrang sarap " she exclaimed.

You felt her ass twitching before you inserted another finger making it two, Aiah responded with moans that you took as a green light to try inserting your thick cock into her ass. Her pussy juice and saliva is enough as a lubricant for you to insert your dick head but she protests with pain as you try to insert more of your shaft.

" Hoy tangina masakit, fuckk! Mag lube ka na " she said.

You then get the lube and apply it to your dick and her ass.

As you try to insert your dick, it went in smoothly with Aiah opening her mouth in please as you fuck her from her ass.

" MRRRHHH MMRRHMM MRRMMM~~ "

she moaned while gritting her teeth as you scrambled her insides through her ass.

" TANGINA ANSARAAPPP " she said while looking at you.

" Ganto pala lasa at pakiramdan ng pwet ni Aiah Arceta "

" Sarap ba mag pa tira sa pwet, Aiah? "

" Oo tangina laki ng tite mo, gago "

" Ikaw palang nakapag pa cum sa'kin bago ka labasan " she added.

" Sige pa, ughh~~ tirahin mo lang pwet ko, pwede mo ako putukan dyan "

" Mamaya ako naman pupunta sainyo, titirahin ko ulit pwet mo ha "

" sigee ~uhhj, tanginamo lalabasan na ako "

" Sabay tayo, fuckkk— I'll cum inside your ass Ms. Aiah Arceta " you moaned in pleasure.

You felt liquid bursting out her pussy as you said those words you then plunged your dick as deep as possible before busting your load inside her.

You leaned on her, your head is on top of your head as both of you reached your climax at the same time.

" Ughh~~ hah , ughhh hahh, ughh~ "

Both of you moaned while catching your breaths before taking her mouth into a passionate kiss.

~~mhhhh ~mhhh *slurps *flopps

Your dick made the flop sound as you removed it from her booty.

" Sarap mo talaga Aiah "

" Hahahaha, siguro pinag jajakulan mo picture ko ano? Andami sa computer mo kita ko " she teased you.

" hahahaha " both of you laughed before fixing the bed and removing all the mess.

Aiah has been your FWB after she was brokenhearted from high school, but as she got busy in her career, the two of you only fucks with each other every holiday when Aiah goes back home to Cebu. You genuinely care about her and would not even try to use your relationship to ruin her career, she deserves it and you're always there to cheer her up and to fuck her brains out.

" Punta ka mamaya samin ha, saamin ka mag bagong taon, pakisabi kay tita nakaalis na ako hehehe " Aiah said with a beautiful smile before leaving your door.

The End.

#bini aiah #aiah arceta #Aiah smut #BINI #BINI Imagines #Tagalog smut

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loves0phelia · 9 months ago

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Saturday Meetings

Summery: When Eddie learns Y/N has a similar music taste as him everything change.

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: Bullying, fighting, grammar mistakes.

Eddie Munson was always seen as a freak ever since he entered highschool. The basketball team, cheerleaders, party kids and even the smart kids thought he was a satanist for listening to metal music and wearing ripped jeans accompanied with chains. The permanent ink that decorated his skin did not help his case either.

High school was a nuisance for Eddie. The only thing that motivated him was the Hell Fire club. A club where kids from juniors to seniors played dungeons and dragons.

For the members, this game meant the world, it was packed with excitement and fun. Yet, for others, it served as a tool for bullying.

During lunch you sat multiple tables away from him. You were dressed in the usual green, white and yellow cheerleading uniform the school provided, your hair pulled back into a neatly curled ponytail, you blended in with the rest of the team. But deep down, you were different. You had a passion for the same things as Eddie Munson. It was a part of you no one else could ever know.

Your Metalica, Black Sabbath and AC/DC cassette were tucked away underneath Madonna and tears for tears inside your backpack. You thought how Eddie was freely listening to the music you loved so dearly while you couldn't.

Your head turned over your shoulder and you watched as he talked. His arms were flying around as he expressed himself. His big and extraverted gestures made you giggle. Nobody at your table was this extravagant. Seeing someone like him felt refreshing. You always wondered what it was like having spontaneous conversation was like. At your table it was like a routine. Sport, girls/boys, parties, repeat.

“What are you looking at?" Jason's voice broke your concentration, prompting you to snap your head back to face him. He was sitting directly across from you at the cafeteria table.

"Oh, it's nothing," you attempted to brush him off, but the concern in everyone’s faces at your table made it impossible to avoid.

“You sure? Looks like you were looking at Munson” The judgment in his voice was clear. It was like mentioning his name burned his tongue.

"I, um, I was just... he looks weird, doesn't he?" you stammered, trying to save the situation. His brow furrowed as he glanced between you and him. The concern dissolved from his face as he chuckled and nodded in agreement with your previous statement. With a sigh of relief, your tense shoulders relaxed, and your racing heart gradually slowed its pace.

Your anxious gaze met Chrissy's, Jason's girlfriend, and she responded with a gentle smile. In that moment, her glance was reassuring, silently letting you know that everything was okay.

…

That night, you layed in bed, the sound of "Thunderstruck" blasting through your Walkman, was drowning out the world around you as you stared up at the ceiling, thoughts filled your mind, wondering how different life could be if you were surrounded by people who truly understood you, rather than pretending to fit in where you clearly didn't belong.

“Y/n!” Your heart dropped when you barely heard your name over the music. You threw The headphones off and you saw your mom in the doorway.

“What is it mom?” You asked and sat up.

"I've been calling that dinner's ready for the past 10 minutes. Are you still listening to that crazy music?" she sighed, rolling her eyes as the sound echoed from the headphones now abandoned beside you.

“Come downstairs, now” she scolded and you followed her down to the kitchen where once again you talked about school, boys and sports instead of something that really interested you.

…

The next morning, the thought of staying home was tempting. Everything seemed to conspire against you, discouraging any motivation to face another day of repeating the same exact routine as the day before.

But you knew your parents would not want you to stay home.

As the school bus pulled up in front of your house, you found yourself once again lost in your music, the volume cranked up high enough to fill your ears but low enough to keep the people around you from hearing it..

When it arrived at its destination people rushed to get out of the yellow vehicle. You, on the other hand, walked slowly deadring the moment you will have to enter class.

As you turned the corner in the main hallway, you collided with someone so hard that the Walkman's headphones slipped off your head and began to fall to the ground. The cord connecting the headphones to the cassette player on your waist tugged, causing it to tumble to the floor as well making the Metallica cassette spill out onto the ground.

“Oh I'm sorry sweetheart” your heart pounds against your chest when you finally recognized the boy you bumped into.

“Let me get that for you- Metalica?” He examined the cassette as if he couldn't believe his eyes.

“You really listen to that?” his smirk is inevitable.

“No. It's- uh, for my brother” You snatched the cassette from his hand.

“You don't even have a brother” He laughed when he caught your lie.

“How would you know that?”

"We've been in the same classes for two years, Y/N." The sound of your name rolling off his tongue sends a shiver down your spine.

In this moment you noticed how Andy and two other boys from the basketball team looked at you and Eddie as they passed.

In a hurry you grabbed his hand and tugged him away into the nearest janitor closet.

"You know, you could've asked me out first before dragging me in here, but I guess I'll give you points for spontaneity," he says with a smirk, his confidence made you roll your eyes and slap his forearm.

“You cannot tell anyone that you saw this alright?” You shoved the cassette into his face. ”Jason would ruin my life and probably find a way to kick me out of the team because he thinks it's… it’s satanic” Eddie sighed harshly.

“Fine. But-”

“No buts!”

“BUT you have to help me with O'donnell's test for next month” you considered it for a moment. If anyone saw you with him they would probably do worse then kick you off the team. But you didn't have a choice.

“Fine but you come to my place on Saturday nights, and you have to come through my window.”

“Exciting, romantic, I like it”

“This is not romantic!” and just at this very moment you noticed how tight the closet was. How close your bodies were. “I- Am going to get out and you have to wait 5 minutes before you do, understood?”

“Understood, maam” he nodded and quickly you came out of the closet. Fresh air immediately brushed on you.

The rest of the week went smoothly, you sneaked glances at him every now and then but nothing was abnormal. During the integrality of Saturday you were impatient for the moment eddie would come knocking on your window. And when he did you were listening to one of your many vinyls, as you opened the window and welcomed him in.

“Holy shit” he whispered as he took in your room. In his head it would have been filled with pinks and purples, neat and well organized. But there were vinyls of his favorite bands on the wall next to posters and a concert ticket framed in a black picture frame. You had books scattered on your desk that he had also read, and 5 pairs of different colors converse on the floor.

“You are full of surprises” He had said and you just ignored the compliment and went

straight to studying.

On the following Saturday night, Eddie returned without fail, and you both studied again. As the hours passed, midnight approached and you were both tired and yawning.

“I should go,” He said as he started gathering his notebooks and his backpack.

"Same time next Saturday?" you inquired as Eddie made his way halfway out of your window.

He nodded, a sweet smile lighting up his face, making your stomach erupt with butterflies. Every Saturday preceding the test, unfolded the same way. Sometimes you found yourselves watching movies, almost cuddling, his arm draped around your shoulder, and occasionally you allowed your head to rest on him.

Friday, the day before your last study session before the math test, was a game day. You knew Eddie and his club had a reunion the same day but you still invited him to come watch your cheerleading routine along with his friends.

Surprise flickered across your face as you spotted him in the stands just before the end of the game. His unexpected presence threatened to throw you off balance, but you swiftly regained your focus.

After the game, as the team was heading back to the locker room, Jason spotted Eddie lagging behind waiting for you.

"Waiting for the girls to come out, perv?” Jason sneered, his minions laughing along with him.

Eddie tried to brush off the insults, but Jason's words cut deep. Just as Jason was about to deliver another cutting remark, you came out of the changing room holding your sport bag.

you looked between them for a second in silence. Eddie looked at you and a lightbulb lightened up on Jason’s head.

“Oh I see what's going on here. Munson’s got a crush on y/n!” His loud tone made everyone grow quiet. Students nearby started surrounding them, their eyes darting between Jason and Eddie. Eddie's cheeks burned with humiliation as he struggled to find the courage to respond

“Sorry to break it to you but a cheerleader would never go for a freak like you” With a smirk on his face, Jason draped his arm around you in a cocky way. It was in no way near as comforting as Eddie's embrace.

“Fuck off, Carver” you pushed him off your body. His smirk faltered for a moment as he received the unexpected rejection, but he quickly regained his composure, scoffing at Y/N's boldness.

"Really, y/n? You're into Munson now? I didn't think you would go that slow but you've always been a slut” he shrugged and some people around you snickered and some other gasped

Jason's menacing presence loomed over you. You stood frozen after the words came out of his mouth. Eddie stepped forward, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive as he positioned himself between you and him.

Eddie hesitated before striking a punch right into his jaw. Jason’s head flew to the right and he stumbled backwards. Everyone gasped loudly.

With a fierce growl, Jason lunged forward, aiming a wild swing at Eddie's nose. But he was quicker. With fast reflexes, Eddie ducked under his punch and returned one to Jason’s gut, earning a grunt of pain.

The fight was on. Fists flew as Eddie and Jason traded blows. The students who were gathered around cheers added to the chaotic atmosphere.

“Stop!” You screamed but they were blinded by rage and humiliation.

Despite Jason’s size and strength, Eddie held his ground. With each blow, he could feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

The echoes of grunts, cheers and strikes alarmed various teachers and when they saw the scene, they were both separated. The boys were panting and Jason was quick to put the blame on Eddie.

He looked at you desperately before walking into the crowd of students to storm out of the school ignoring the calls of a teacher demanding him to stay and explain himself.

You dropped your sport bag with your uniform inside and ran after him.

“Eddie, wait” Once outside you saw him about to enter his van. Your calls stopped him and he turned to face you. You didn't fail to notice the large bruise on his cheekbone already forming.

“Eds- im so sorry” he shook his head dismissing your apology.

"It wasn't your fault, Y/N," He reassured you softly, and in a swift movement, you wrapped your arms around his chest. At first, surprise made him motionless, but after a few moments, he returned the embrace, his arms enveloping you in a tight hug.

“Y/n” A much softer voice called out behind you. You and Eddie both looked toward it and Chrissy was standing there holding your bag.

“This is yours. Right?” She extended her arm.

“You can keep it Chrissy… my uniform is in it, now that Jason knows, nobody will want me on the team”

“I want you on the team, and I'm the captain” she pushed the bag inside your arms. “If someone has a problem with your relationship with Eddie, they will be kicked off the team.”

“Were not in a-” Eddie started with a shy tone.

“Thanks Chrissy” you hugged her tightly before saying your goodbyes.

“Bye Eddie. See you monday y/n, love you”

“Are we in a relationship?” His question is genuine and full of curiosity.

“I- uhm, do you want to be?”

“Hell yeah I want to. The whole studying shit was just an excuse to spend time with you!” A goofy smile was plastered on his face.

“What?!”

“Do you actually think I, Eddie Munson, would study willingly?” He giggled.

"I can't believe you," you said between giggles, resting your head on his chest as laughter bubbled up between you both.

With a hesitant yet determined step forward, Eddie closed the distance between you, his hand reached out to gently cup your cheek. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt the warmth of Eddie's touch, a shiver of anticipation traveled your body. Eddie leaned in, his lips hovering just inches from yours.

And then, with a tender brush of his lips against yours, Eddie closed the gap, sealing your lips with a soft kiss. It was a kiss filled with all the pent-up longing and desire that had been building between you.

And when you finally pulled away, your lips tingled with the lingering sensation of his kiss, the fight long forgotten. You knew that this was just the beginning of yours and his journey together—a journey filled with passion, love, and endless possibilities.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x cheerleader!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader

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fukashiin · 2 years ago

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high school sweethearts au

— w. riddle, ace, leona, jack, octatrio (collectively), jamil, vil, rook, silver, malleus

⤷ oh dear diary, i met a boy, he made my dull heart light up with joy.

a/n: a valentine's day special!! i enjoyed writing this sm<33

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS AS

⤷ THE STUDENT LIBRARIAN !

- the student who volunteered for library duties when no one else would. he mostly works behind the counter with his eyes glued to the screen of his computer—looking for the names of those who had overdue books to return. an esteemed honour student at the same time, the envious mixture of methodical and dutiful that makes the role of a student librarian fit him like a glove.

- he mostly reads at his own pace—a fascinating volume of historical topics covered through the years. rusted evidence that he likes to give his own insights on at the tip of his fingers. sometimes people catch him wondering a bit too far, as his eyes stray off to certain page for way too long.

- despite his free time, he still takes care of his own duties that needs to be carried out, from arranging books back to their rightful shelves, tidying up used tables of its multi-coloured eraser shavings and lost pencils that he hands up to the lost-and-found.

YOUR DYNAMIC

- you often stop by the library for self-revision, a thick stack of textbooks that sit pretty at the side of your table as you have your own necessities. you don’t have much to do after this particular study session, so you plan to head back to your own dorm after reliving your memory of the chapters the teachers have went through with you in class today.

- strangely, unknowingly—the table you sit at is always empty. always reserved for a certain someone. that’s when your relationship with riddle started to bloom.

- any time he spots you at the corner of his eye once you enter the air-conditioned space, he throws a small smile your way and elegantly places the book he was reading down to stroll to your side to help you carry your bag that you were sure was about to dislocate your shoulder.

- he sits by your side whenever you needed help, some topics just simply played a baffling game of chess with your head that you dread to the core. but he’s more than happy to help one way or another. either to point out to you specific key words, gently grabbing the highlighter out of your grasp, initiating eye contact with you with the textbook closed to help you memorise important points for so long the rate of his heartbeat starts to speed up—

- the air between you two really alleviates your burden and the packed schedule you have to attend to on a daily basis. with school is a bucket of workload that’s dumped onto you. with riddle, is a soft feeling. you don’t have to worry about your planned itineraries for the day and you can be yourself for a while.

he’s full comfort, a swift reminder of those drizzly cinnabuns you two go for a bite for when classes are over for the day.

- it’s no surprise he has his plate full with library duties either. so to pay him back, you offer him to head for a bookstore somewhere outside the campus, assuring him that you’ll deal with things when his mom intervenes for his “unthinkable” behaviour. in return, he’ll purchase as many books for you as want. hard covers, too.

ACE TRAPPOLA AS

⤷ THE PLAYER ON THE BASKETBALL TEAM !

- it’s as in-character as you think it is. you’ve lost count of the number of times he’s pointed a conspicuous finger at you when you’re sitting on the bleachers, yelling out your name and promising he’ll score a shot for you! much to his disappointment (and surprise, for some reason), the ball just bounces right off the hoop and crashes into another player on the team.

- the indoor sports hall is a huge advantage for him since it lets him connect his phone to the bluetooth speakers, letting him blast out his music of choice that consists of endless tracks from nba youngboy and eminem when the coaches were absent and the company could carry on with free training.

- his classmates adore him, but the teachers hold their breath in at the thought of having him in their class. a truly slothful student to some extent—but is able to ace every test given out. higher authorities wanted to believe their eyes were playing a trick on them when they take a glance at his report card that contained a full, gleaming row of straight A’s.

- cheeky at heart and playfully flirts with whoever he wants just for the fun of it, not to get their contact number just to ghost them later on like he did with a past lover. he’s learned his mistake and he’s willing to do better, both academically and athletically. but he supposes he could get used to the popularity for a while.

YOUR DYNAMIC

- resists the urge to dropkick his teammates whenever they send out mischievous whistles his direction when they see you with him. he’s just asking for your notes! nothing else in mind like scrawling his phone number down on some lined-paper and slipping it into the back of your notebook in hopes that you notice and send out a few messages to him when you’re back at your place (and develop into something more...?)

- the type of person who didn’t believe in young love at first before he met you. now, you two make small trips to the school cafeteria to purchase your favourite smoothies when practise was stopped to a 5 minute break. smoothly sweet talks his way out of paying—but doesn’t see your kindness to be taken control over. In return, he tells you the answers for the upcoming test he was able to get his hands on, whether you’re going to use them or not.

- denies (anticipated) accusations that you and him were together in an “uncool” manner, according to him. it’s even worse when you’re present, there to see his face burst in pink and his speedy mannerisms, like telling you to “ignore them!” or shoving you into the nearest locker so his friends don’t catch a glimpse of you.

- sometimes his eyes stay on your face for way too long the atmosphere starts to contort into a weird, one-sided stare-off when it’s supposed to be your one-on-one study session with him. you take notice that he’s not looking at the tip of your pen that’s pointing to a specific part of his notes and threaten to poke his eyes out if he doesn’t focus. you could only giggle internally when he fumbles about and retracts his stare from your face.

- questions you if you’ve been in any past relationships, only to reject hearing your answer when he’s too afraid that he may be outshone in some way.

- but you reassure him that you haven’t, and you’re more than happy to enter into one with him. with that, you see him gleefully punch a fist into the air once he’s off on his way to tell his teammates about it, too in his thoughts that he forgets about the teasing he’s about to be bombarded with afterwards.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR AS

⤷ THE CLASS SLACKER !

- similar to his junior ace in some ways. petty, bored, but effortlessly gets the highest grade in the class. it’s no surprise that even the overachiever who sits behind him and sees his big, outstanding ‘100′ penned in red at the corner of his paper that easily outdoes their imperfect ‘98′, has to keep their tongue in to ward off the nasty feeling of shooting the rudest vulgarities out of their mouth.

- lessons in session automatically translates to “do whatever you want for the period”—no matter the subject he takes. he often gets caught folding paper origamis or writing down the most prankish notes just to crumble it up and toss it the teacher’s way.

hands a little too skillful has him crafting numberless spitballs that he uses as imaginary missiles to shoot into random people’s hair. the preppy boys can wave a sad goodbye to hair day when leona appears with a handmade launcher in the hallway.

- though with such a behaviour, leona somehow seems to make himself appear approachable from his short-formed responses and dismissive nods. but could anyone have ever guessed that he would act so mind-blowingly different with someone else?

YOUR DYNAMIC

- if he ever catches your mood down in the dumps, he insists you to come with him to the cat cafe that holds many cuddly creatures to help aid the minds of those tireless students piled with projects to complete with mind-boggling deadlines. either he enjoys getting swarmed by the adorable army of kitties himself, or looks at you with the softest eyes thinking about how you strangely resemble them as you get lost in distant laughter when one of them decide to curl up in your lap.

- sneakily shares his stash of snacks that he managed to shove into his bag at the back of the class when the two of you were luckily placed together during seat arranging. each low-key pass of a sweet was complimented by his deep chuckle as he feels rewarded by the numerous suspicious stares that fly by both of your ways.

- nonchalantly terrifies any cheap intimidators when he catches you getting cornered. you wonder if his initial plan backfired and that he actually made them fall in love with him with his unfairly gorgeous face? (you don’t blame them)

- growls at whoever takes the chance to wake him up from his day-to-day naps, rolling his eyes at their dumbassery when it’s a whole different story when it comes to you. when you do it (with panicked warnings you got beforehand), leona takes a while to get familiar with the touch of your skin and swishes his tail from side to side when he recognises your oh-so sweet scent he cherishes to the moon and back.

raises an eyebrow at you for being so brave to take the opportunity to wake him up, promising he’ll pay you back tenfold when in fact, he really, really hopes he can grow much more affectionate with you when time passes, until skin contact becomes a normal thing between the two of you.

JACK HOWL AS

⤷ THE (ACTUALLY SMART) JOCK !

- people genuinely wonder in disbelief why he’s so taken aback by the number of students who swoon over him when they see him doing his daily sets of warm-ups in the gym by himself. his ear twitches in the slightest when he feels four—five, pairs of eyes burning right into his back.

- he’s a lone wolf to some extent- but that doesn’t mean he’ll drive away his friends who thrive to stretch right beside him, despite being a literal twig compared to jack. they’ll all do tons of sets together while emitting the roughest groans from their aching bodies until sweat is seeping ceaselessly out of their outfits.

unsurprisingly, jack is still up and full of stamina as he silently praises himself for not being as slow-minded as his friends since he changed into his p.e attire ahead of time. +10 health gained back for him.

- the coaches normally pick him out as the representative when international competitions are around the corner. with him representing the school, there’s definitely going to be headlines and news reports made about them! except when he actually wins it isn’t. people are seen firing bountiful praises online at jack for his athleticism for a 16 year old, in awe at how he always manages to place first.

- is more than happy to help anyone out when activities take a wrong turn and result in them being injured. whether if it’s being in a wheelchair or in crutches, he takes the opportunity to bring them to their destination on time.

YOUR DYNAMIC

- his eyes immediately dart to you when the teacher announces for everyone to form a pair for pre-activity stretching. he takes the lead to call out what set of stretches to do and helps to adjust your posture or the angle of wherever your arm is pointing to. his firm hands coming in contact with your body invites a quick rush of blood to your cheeks, startled with the sudden proximity that came about. it doesn’t help the fact that his steady breath is on your skin, unaware of his swift movements that he didn’t bat an eye to (why is he like this?)

- when all the physical stuff is done for the day, he’ll give you a small nudge on the shoulder and tell you he’s going to get some water. what took you aback was when you thought he was getting it for himself—being as hardworking as he is, it only makes sense to reward himself for putting up with you and your incapability with some activities.

- but instead, he brings back two bottles of water, briskly handing one over to you before he open his. he makes sure to assure you that you weren’t a problem at all, and that you deserve a restful break after all your physical exertion.

- not just crazy athletic but simultaneously smart as well! but when his classmates ask for his homework answers in dire need to not be caught by the teacher, he hits them with a “you should’ve done it at home” and gets up from his seat to hand in his work. you don’t know whether to laugh or feel bad for that person. the student then gawks at both you and jack when he lets you in on his answers instead.

- even when he has an enormous fanbase full of people who adore him and wish to talk to him more just for the sake of it, he always makes sure to come to you first, to check in on your health, both mentally and physically, to know that you’re healthy and ready for the day.

OCTATRIO AS

⤷ THE POPULAR GROUP !

- as the owners of a lounge that’s quite far from school grounds with quality dishes you’ll never find anywhere else and their dashing looks that shoot an arrow right through people’s lovestruck hearts, it’s no wonder that their popularity skyrockets through the roof when you found out that they go here. you’ve seen a few of the posts they share on magicam—and they’re the perfect definition of young, beautiful, and dirty rich.

- people would kill to watch them pass by in the hallways of the very school they’re in. this trio, with their alluring cologne and clad in neat, tidy clothing that doesn’t even necessarily have to be of the latest trends but still making them look amazing—ambling in the bustling halls? suddenly, lessons were called off for the day and there’s no homework due the day after. the trio quietly snicker to each other in the process.

- there’s definitely a fangroup about them. all they could be doing was to order lunch at the school cafeteria, and the group chat students made based on them would turn wild when floyd faces back to give a sly “cheese~” at the camera that was facing his way.

YOUR DYNAMIC

- unfairly spoils you to death as they give you special discounts at the lounge, telling you that it doesn’t matter whatever you order, their vip customer is always getting 10% off the price. if that’s too low—azul’s more than willing to give you a better benefit. proceeding your easy-earned discounts, jade suggests that they carefully plan out a drink based off of you and your personality, questionable intentions in mind as he proposes the idea to make it the most expensive drink on the menu too.

- absolutely loves to have you sit at their table during break, letting you in on their latest gossip. the amount of intel that they collected on their recent “customer” that created a scene at the lounge for not being open when it clearly had its working hours placed at the entry is rather concerning. floyd gives a shameless wink your way and tells you to not reveal this treasured piece of information. (gaslight gatekeep girlboss)

- weekend sleepovers at their place consists of them researching the finest ingredients and dishes to add to the menu and them serving up some steaming platter for you to try your taste buds on to give some feedback on it. well, including a small competition to win your heart over as well.

- people are flabbergasted at the amount of attention you receive from these three. “jealous” wasn’t a word too far off to describe their feelings either, and it wasn’t any better. you’d sometimes wonder whether it was a good idea to become friends with this particular trio.

but you can rest assured that they’ll handle with any bad outcomes that dares to come about, and if it’s regarding their large fanbase—they have just the solution. nobody would say no to rushing to the lounge and being up to date with the latest release of their newest dish that you so nicely tried out for them.

- even as the three of them secretly try their best to win your heart over, they’ll also make sure to check with your boundaries and query you if they ever pass the line of comfort. if that so happens anytime, they’ll apologise by doing whatever you want free of charge! they dote on you a whole ton, and truthfully, relish in the time they get to spend with you.

JAMIL VIPER AS

⤷ THE SKATER BOY !

- the student who’s effortlessly charismatic because of his chill and dismissive attitude. the teachers are either pulling their hair out because of him or praising him for being early to class as they spot him waiting outside with him and his rusty ipod he just found that’s been collecting dust in his storage room. he vaguely remembers it as a gift given by a loved one, hence, why he keeps it safe wherever he goes.

- comes to class ROCKING those white vans like okay??? i see you???

- concerning him and school as a whole—it’s just as if he slithers right by his classmates’ attention like how a snake slithers through grass. he’s awfully sly and nimble, skipping class just to head out to the skate park that’s spray painted in graffiti all over by some infamous artists. he personally doesn’t care—it just adds to his presence of mind and how much fun he’s going to have. self-skating sessions are a fresh breather for him, indifferent to his number of absences.

- and don’t forget the secret rush of ego he gets when people stop and stare to watch him do his challenging tricks over the ramps and metal railings. it’s mesmerising how his hair flows so prettily in the wind and the golden glow of the sunset that highlights his features, like, how some people dramatise, an angel fallen from the blinding heavens. jamil rolls his eyes behind their backs once he’s finished his set of tricks.

YOUR DYNAMIC

- honestly didn’t think of you much when you two first met, but now his heart, baggy clothes, and skateboard are all yours.

- when you spot him alone in the corner of the classroom when it’s a free period, a smile inevitably creeps up his face and he gives a relaxed wave as you come up and say hi to him. you’ve always been rather interested in his music taste and what was playing on those ipods of his, so when you do make it noticeable to him, he takes out the left side of his earphones and places it in your ear for you, fingers brushing the shell of your ears. you hope he didn’t feel how boiling-hot it was.

- daily stop-bys at the vending machine to talk about hot shit. you both agreed to pay for the drinks for the other on some days and do the same back. he finds such a leisure time so precious and, as much as he’s having double thoughts about it, he’d very rather much spend his alone time with you than in a class filled with students. especially when the class clown is present. eugh.

- he’s memorised your go-to drinks by now, and whenever you’re absent from school, he makes an effort to walk to your place to tend to you and hand over your favourite beverage once you’re up and better than ever.

- texts you in the dead of the night, asking if you’d want to head over to the skate park with him there to teach you some tricks he’s learnt on his own accord. agreeing was probably the best thing you’ve done all day, with the built-up pressure you get to release on your time with him as he helps you get rid of your muscle strains. he holds your body close, keeping you balanced on his skateboard as the late night breeze whisks through your clothes and the luminous shine that comes from the stars above makes him feel grateful for being here, with you. alone and together with no one to interfere.

VIL SCHOENHEIT AS

⤷ THE SCHOOL TRENDSETTER !

- as you may have guessed, the student who has the largest following in the entire student body. to help maintain his public image—he makes sure to arrive to school glammed up, with smooth and silky hair he applied the perfect fragrance of rosemary oil on to and his latest combination of outfits that’s bound to go viral both on magicam and in the school. he makes it a habit to bring along his miniature makeup pouch with him wherever he goes!

- instantly gets a whopping 100 views on his latest story he posted on his account about the most recent addition to the school cafeteria’s menu. he’s hyper-aware of his calorie intake, so he probably criticises it in the caption. “0/10. doesn’t make my ass fatter than it is now”

- sometimes has to leave mid-class to attend his monthly photoshoot session. there’s no doubt he’d be starting to pack his things during class and his classmates would already have an idea on where he’s about to go. the close circle of his friend group promises to notify him about the homework that’s going to be due soon, and he makes sure to blend them an incredibly tasteful smoothie he heard about not too long ago in thanks.

YOUR DYNAMIC

- it just had to be one of those days where you’re at your worst. vil can tell as much from your gloomy behaviour and sloppy appearance that does your figure no favours. though he lets out a disapproving click of the tongue, he places his hand on your shoulder, reassuring you that whatever you’re going through will come and go.

- and, he hands out this one-of-a-kind opportunity to even purchase whatever apparel from the hottest brands that’s to your liking for you. who could ever ask for a better offer?

- if things are still dour, he lets you stay in his room for the night. the type of supportive friend (he hopes not for long?) to give you reassuring affirmations that whoever broke your heart doesn’t deserve you (and he does). he wants you to know that you’re ethereal just the way you are, and you shouldn’t downgrade yourself just because of somebody or something you can pass by. there’s some vinyls he keeps at a shelf at the side of his room,

if you want to play a song of your choice on the record player, he’s more than delighted to let you.

- when annual prom nights are going to take place a few days away, vil rings up his model agency to call upon another fashionista to help out with your outfit for the stirring night you can’t sit still for. converses with the right person they picked out and makes decisions set in stone, with the exact measurements that compliment your figure along with a flawless colour.

he takes the chance to do your makeup for you, and you can’t tell whether it’s because he’s taken familiarity with your visage or to just get his face closer to yours just to fluster you. you’ve taken a wild guess that it’s both.

- once prom is over and the crowd starts to clear out, vil books a cab back to his place so you two can have your well-deserved baths for as long as you want, accompanied by his endless supply of skincare products. he loves seeing you grow and blossom into a better person. he’ll make sure to do it alongside you, until he actually claims your heart.

ROOK HUNT AS

⤷ THE THEATRE KID !

- a cheerful soul who skips through the halls while humming a tune from one of the latest musicals he watched. his seemingly never-ending glee that lights the hallways up in an eye-blinding radiance is beyond people’s comprehension. rook, frankly, doesn’t mind the stares he gathers from such a spaced-out area, as long as he does his other theatre friends good in promoting the drama club.

- people mostly catch him hanging around in the auditorium, sitting with the other club members as they take out their practise on vocalisation and in depth emotion building. newcomers of the club deeply look up to him, as the most passionate member of the club where all the roles he’s taken on has made his heart soar above the clouds.

- one of the volunteers who helped in producing the script for the upcoming play the club is putting together. he advances in dramatising the scripts if they’re too flat in tone or feeling, even adding the most unnecessary dialogues of french, which the majority of the cast doesn’t even know a lick of. though, he makes a vow to them to teach it until they’re all absolutely wasted to the point where practise wouldn’t even be going anywhere.

- works hand in hand with vil behind the stage, who helps to sew up suitable costumes and applying the makeup for the cast in the makeover studio.

YOUR DYNAMIC

- it’s utterly embarrassing—but he vocalises ALL his poems and thoughts about you that he recited back at his place to prepare for the public audience. by audience, I mean everyone at the cafeteria.

he sings all of the praises he’s been holding in since the day he made mere eye contact with you while standing on an occupied table, most likely taken by the misfits. he sees it as his own individual stage and seizes the opportunity in his hands. you’re dying to go hide in the nearest restroom.

- encourages you to audition for the latest play his club is planning, (secretly) wanting you to take up the role that jointly has a special form of relationship with his! he gives an overly joyful “that’s up to the judges!” when you ask him who would be playing the other role. how many times has he made you uneasy again? (you don’t want to admit that you do enjoy being with him.)

- he’ll make sure to schedule a period off to help you practise and perfect the script that was chosen for you in the empty auditorium. he eagerly savours the time he gets to hear you, your beautiful voice, out loud, like never ending music to his ears.

- aside from the dorms, he lives in a multimillion neighbourhood, and he would be ecstatic to bring you over to his place anytime. you’re slack-jawed the second you enter his home, a wealthy interior designed by specially chosen professionals just for his house. he drags you by the wrist to watch the latest musical that was released in the theater that his family chose to install.

- so—the set of people who were chosen for the roles are out? you’re glad, but rook is a leaping ball of sunshine when he takes a glance at the name list (as if he didn’t play a part in convincing the judges one way or another). he genuinely cannot wait to see you shining so brightly on stage, as he prepares a divine bouquet of roses he’s planning to give you once it’s all over to congratulate you for all the untiring effort you’ve put into this play.

SILVER AS

⤷ THE FLOATER !

- luckily for him, he wasn’t the type of student who garnered much attention after being transferred to the school. he’s received some greetings by those who actually mean it, but all in all is content with where he’s placed in for now.

- being a regular loner has him sitting outside on the unoccupied bench for him to eat his lunch. a simple but memorable ham and cheese sandwich which he remembers getting spoiled with from his caretaker since early childhood. he holds everything they do immensely close to his heart, thankful for having the utmost kindest person in the world to look after him. he’ll make sure to pay back for everything he’s indebted to when he’s older.

- with restless desires to grow familiar with the school grounds, he takes a small walk to the library and school store to send a salutation to riddle, the boy who’s in the same year as him and the shop’s very own Mr. S, a guy who’s devoted a ton of his life to this shop. silver thinks about how there’s so many sentimental people who wander this school, a little of the opposite of his stone-faced persona.

YOUR DYNAMIC

- he’ll admit, he was slightly taken aback when you fearlessly took a seat next to him on the bench when he wasn't on guard. he jumps a little, thinking there was a nearby predator who was ready to pounce on him any second. but no—it was another regular student who roams the school halls like any other. he’s never seen you before despite being the one who joined the school later—in fact, he’s never really been with a familiar face other than sebek.

- but you just smile and giggle at him when you notice his lost nature. ah, he felt a flare of life ignite in him with such unforeseen kindness being thrown at him. there’s no doubt he's going to be the slightest bit wary of you, but you take his uninterested course of actions as a yes and stay by him for the rest of the period.

- you don’t make voice the fact that it was you who carefully placed the bundle of flowers on his head when he fell asleep on the arm rest.

- after a few months of hushed whispers and note-sharing in the middle of class, he presents the idea for the both of you to own your own personal diary to journal your daily happenings. a secret note-taker, between two hearts that flicker with a hint of trust for the other.

you both enjoy reading what the other has written for the day, and silver hopes that he’ll be able to point out the tiniest bit of a confession you could’ve possibly written down somewhere for him, as much as how insensitive he is.

- while classes are out and people start to take their leave, you and silver are to stay back to dutifully complete your classroom cleaning before the next day of lessons. who knew such a mere task could put the both of you in a difficult situation? you both reach your hand out to grab the duster to wipe the board, only for your fingers to graze each other as a spark of electricity courses through your bodies, feeling warmer than ever.

- when you’re finally done, it coincidentally starts pouring out of the blue. with the both of you standing at the school entrance, silver strips off his cardigan and uses it to shelter you, holding your figure close as the both of you run in the rain like your lives depend on it. he wishes you didn’t have to arrive at a gazebo so soon, he still wanted to see you, in his clothes for as long as he wanted.

MALLEUS DRACONIA AS

⤷ THE (NOT SO) SECRET ADMIRER !

- often gets recognised for his godly visuals, though he doesn’t pay much mind to them? yes, he makes an effort to keep himself presentable as a wielder of royal blood, but he doesn't see all the craze over his face. his aloofness only makes people swoon over him even more.

- he’s rather quiet in these busy halls. he charmingly excuses the person who accidentally bumped into him head-first, proceeding with his walk until he arrives and stops in front of one particular locker. onlookers goggle absently, thinking about what he’s doing in front of another person’s locker? his is way further away than where he is, so what..?

- malleus sighs in contempt when the bell indicating the next lesson’s beginning rings.

- class is dismissed for lunch and stays glued to his seat as he pulls out an ancient history book to pick up where he left on. his table is uncluttered, and he places the well-researched tome on his desk as he starts reading through its contents once again. nobody is aware of his hidden yearning for a specific person to come running by, catching him in their view through the window, saying the most, honey-sweet “hello!” anyone could ever dream of.

YOUR DYNAMIC

- it’s not much of a secret admirer at this point, when it’s so glaringly obvious who it is. as if he was starring in a Hollywood film, glances at all directions in his way to make sure no one was present to disrupt this long-awaited momentum. once again, he stops by at your locker to open it and set down the letter, inside. one that was signed off with his initials as he positions an aromal rose just beside it.

- with the help of his relatives who are comfortable with internet devices—he’s able to search up the latest trends of deserts and lattes from the nearest coffee shop that’s located somewhere near. he’ll ask you if you’d like to journey with him into the city to a particular eatery that grasped his fancy, he assures you that he has the money, and he made sure to reserve a seat on the balcony as well.

- daily alone time with him in the music room as he gracefully plays the violin for you that only makes you swerve his lane even more. with the doors shut and the curtains closed—not fully as to block the outside light—the most euphonious tunes fill the dim lit room as pure gold spill over the strings. an individual performance he dedicated all and just for you.

- when the end of the school year is near, he readies himself to confess to you with all his body and soul. he takes it upon himself to call up a meeting with you outside of school in the evening, just when the glorious sun starts to set.

he talks his promise, rubbing your deathly cold hands in his, and voices his words of honour to make you the most fortunate person alive to be with him. who could ever ask for a better confession?

3K notes · View notes

salmonskinrolltf · 1 year ago

Text

Soulmates 2

[Here's a sequel of sorts to my previous story Soulmates (you don't need to have read it to understand this story). With thanks to @guytransformedforever, @beardobession, @tf-vigilante, @maletransformationlover, @clevertreephilosopher, @scorpionofredsand, and @maletffanatic for providing the photos used as inspiration.]

Hello, my name is Tyler. This is me:

And this is my roommate, Dylan:

Now look, I don’t have a problem with gay people. My cousin is a lesbian. And Dylan is a great roommate. Stays out of my way when we’re not gymming together, but is always down to hang when I need someone to talk to. I just wish he would be less in my face with all his gay shit. Rainbow flags everywhere, blasting Ariana Grande at all hours, constantly bringing new Grindr hookups back to the apartment but giving me side-eye when I ogle women. It’s just… too much for me.

Here’s the thing. I might actually be able to change that. I have this friend Evan, who I’ve wingmanned for on a few occasions over the past year. One night, when we were getting drunk together, he shared his secret with me. He has a magic gift. He clasped my hand and said “tomorrow, you will wake up and have this magic too.” And sure enough, the next day I could feel a tingle coursing through my veins, and I automatically had the knowledge of how to channel it.

Now I have the ability to change somebody’s future. I can’t fiddle with anything that’s innate or has already happened to them. Like, I can’t just make Dylan straight. But I can shape his future decisions or actions, and my magic will make alterations to speed the process along. Like if I made him decide to work out more, he would basically become a muscle beast within the week. Not that I’d do that. I still gotta be the alpha here. I just want to make him a little more… palatable. Someone cool to kick back with all the time, even if he sucks dick. Let’s see... I think I know what will work.

TOMORROW, DYLAN WILL BECOME OBSESSED WITH SPORTS

———————————

Hello, my name is Dylan:

Sports are my LIFE. I never cared about them much growing up, but about a month ago I felt the urge to join my local queer volleyball team and never looked back. It became my everything. It’s been great exercise, but on top of playing volleyball and getting totally jacked off of it, I’ve loved the sense of camaraderie. I love my team. So much so that I even pierced my nipples on a dare when we lost the semifinals. My teammate River also recommended I stop dyeing my hair, and I think the look is really working for me. For some reason, even though it’s only been a month, my hair has grown out significantly since then. Was the red dye stunting its growth or something? Anyway. I also feel like my roommate Tyler and I have really bonded. We’ve been watching baseball games together and I think he appreciates how into it I am. He says he’s excited to bro out while watching football together in the fall.

I love Tyler, but here’s the thing. Maybe I love him too much. I’ve always had this huge crush on him, and no matter how many random Grindr hookups I try to distract myself with, I just can’t stop hoping that one day he’ll give up women for good and decide he loves me. Especially now that we’re spending all this time together, bumping chests when our team wins and shit.

I know us getting together is never going to happen, but I have this… temptation. I was born with a gift. Or maybe I wasn’t. Something my twink friend Paul told me made me think maybe he had something to do with it. Anyway, I have the ability to reshape someone’s past. I change just one thing about their past, and everything about their present just ripples forward to reflect that change. It’s a delicate art. Changing something big can have huge effects that are totally unpredictable. It’s a major temptation to make Tyler gay, but who knows how he’d turn out. Plus, I think that’s just too invasive.

But… Maybe I could change something small about him. Something that would make him less my type, and allow me to move on and focus on finding a boyfriend who would actually be into me. I’m into nice guys. I really love how kind and caring he is. And come on, he’s a FIREFIGHTER. So maybe I can try…

TYLER GREW UP SELFISH AND SPOILED

———————————

What’s up, I’m Tyler.

You dig the jacket? Yeah, I’m still a firefighter, I’m just off duty. But babes dig whatever look I rock, you know what I mean? I get what I want, and what I want is a lot of one night stands. I know how to get ‘em, too. I’m so glad I made the decision to grow this beard out a year ago, it’s opened so many doors for me. And opened a lot of legs.

I’m getting what I want from Dylan, too. Finally, I have a roommate who’s willing to grab brews and watch the game with me. But I think I fucked up when I changed him. Queer volleyball isn’t exactly “sports,” at least not in my book. I thought he’d come out like a linebacker or something! I mean, nipple rings were never part of the plan. The gay guys seem to really go for them, too, so he’s got an even steadier stream of Grindr hookups coming in and out of the place.

On top of that, I’m a little sick of his shit. He’s always giving me lip about stupid stuff like leaving my dishes in the sink or dropping my unwashed uniform on the bathroom floor. He says it’s unsanitary. Like his parade of twinks aren’t dying to sniff that shit anyway. He just doesn’t get it. I think his volleyball teammates are a bad influence too. They’re all so obsessed with aesthetic and anti-hetero rhetoric. I still can’t make him straight, but I can definitely make him less… annoying.

TOMORROW, DYLAN WILL START HANGING OUT WITH MORE STRAIGHT PEOPLE WHO WILL HELP HIM STOP WORRYING ABOUT STUPID SHIT AND BE LESS PRISSY, WELL-GROOMED, AND UPTIGHT

———————————

Yo, I’m Dylan.

Yeah, I cut my hair shorter than the last time you saw me. The upkeep was just getting to be too much, y’know? A couple weeks ago, about the time I dumped that lame-ass volleyball team I was on, I just got bored with shaving every day, too. I invested in a trimmer and now I rock the stubble look, and it’s working for me. I’ve gained a bit of weight since then, and it’s all for the better because I joined my local football league. Having a few extra beers with my new buds afterward just adds to my potential as a linebacker, anyway.

I thought hanging out with more straight people would make me get used to their vibe and kinda inoculate me against Tyler, but I’m still totally obsessed with him. He’s more of a bad boy now, but I’m finding that less unappealing than I used to. Plus, he’s still parading around in his uniform all the time. I can’t help it! I’ve jerked off more times that I can count to his Mr. June photos in the local firefighter calendar.

Whenever I see his mom, she’s constantly going on about how, out of all his Tonka toys growing up, the fire truck was always his favorite. She thinks that’s why he grew up to be a firefighter. Maybe I can change that core memory into something a little more… disreputable. That would definitely make him not my type anymore. I hope.

TYLER’S FAVORITE TOY GROWING UP WAS A TONKA MOTORCYCLE

———————————

Fuckin’ A, man, I’m Tyler.

God, I love my hog. She’s a beaut, ain’t she? My parents wanted me to grow up to be a doctor or a lawyer or a firefighter or some shit, but all I ever wanted to do was ride my hog. Chicks want to ride my hog too, and I let them. As long as they don’t go near my bike! Hahaha, get it? Fuck, I love life. Let me take another drag on this stogie real quick.

Where was I? Oh yeah, my roommate, Dylan. I wish I didn’t have to room with anyone, but my boss at the garage keeps refusing to promote me. I should knock him around one of these days, see if that changes his mind. Anyway, sure, Dylan isn’t so much of a priss anymore. He doesn’t give me shit if I leave my grease-stained clothes on the couch or light up when we’re watching a football game.

But I wanted him to be straight-acting, you know? I tried to train him up as my wingman but he wore a super gay shirt with all these see-through holes to the party, and all the chicks kept their eyes on him the whole time! Fucker. Why can’t he be more like his brother? I’ve seen pictures. That dude is a full on redneck slob, got a Confederate tattoo and everything. I know they had the same backwater-ass trailer trash upbringing, why can’t he be rougher around the edges? You know what… maybe he can!

TOMORROW, DYLAN WILL REALIZE HE WANTS TO EMBRACE HIS WHITE TRASH UPBRINGING

———————————

Hey y’all, I’m Dylan.

Hoo-ee, life has been good lately. I dunno why I resisted my good ol’ boy roots for so long. This goatee really makes me look rugged, dunnit? Also the chest hair. So grabbable. I decided to stop shaving my body, and poof! There it went. A full rug, within like two days I reckon. Like a sign from God. This is how I was always meant to be.

I know I was trying to push away my crush on Tyler by making him not my type, but what’s the fuckin’ point? I need someone who can handle me, and this hot as fuck biker dude I’ve created might be the only one who can handle me at this point. I ride ‘em rough and bareback, just like the horses back home, and weak city dudes just can’t handle it.

Will he be the same if he’s not straight? Maybe not. But as long as he can take my eight inches, I’ll keep him around. I vaguely remember having some sort of compunction about changing him so drastically, but I’m too horny to remember what it was.

Fuck it.

TYLER WAS BORN GAY

———————————

Uh… hi. I’m Tyler. Who are you again?

Sorry, I’m pretty forgetful. Daddy Dylan says I don’t gotta remember shit though, as long as I let him ride me as rough and as long as he likes. He’ll do all the rest for me. He tells me where to go, what to do, who to do. There are so many nice, hot guys who are willing to pay our rent if I turn a few tricks. I love it.

I’ve been like this as long as I can remember. My mom and dad kicked me out when I was 18, in my senior year of high school. I was caught sucking my English teacher’s dick behind the locker rooms. I never went to college after that, but it’s not like I was getting good grades anyway. Sucking Mr. Brentmon’s cock wasn’t for my health, you know. He had a nice juicy one, too. I still dream about it sometimes.

What was I saying? Oh yeah, I took up with this biker gang for a while after getting kicked out. I’ve always had a thing for bikers. But once they got through using my ass, they got bored. It was hard for a while, but now things are oh, so easy. I get all the dick I could ever want. I have a roof over my head, and no job to worry about. All I do is go to the gym and eat and fuck and I never have to think. Dylan said he might take me out muddin’ sometime too. I don’t know what that is, but anything Dylan does is fun. Fuck, I love the way his goatee tickles my skin when he kisses me, so rough, so manly. Way manlier than I’ve ever been. It’s so fucking hot. I love how he takes care of me.

I really have no complaints. I wouldn’t change anything about my life, even if I could remember how…

#roommates #straight to gay #masculinization #biker #redneck #jock #IQ drain

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theoi-crow · 6 days ago

Note

Thank you for all Zeus support posts ♥️ everywhere I go, all my mutuals too, they blast Zeus for being an abusive father. I know it’s because of the modern books and games that’s depicting Zeus this way. But the misinterpretation and mistreatment still get under my nerves.

When it comes to judging Zeus, I noticed ethnocentrism is the biggest problem.

A lot of people judge the ancient world based on their own modern culture and what they fail to realize is that ethnocentrism is the same logic white settlers used against Native Americans. It's the same logic they used when they were kidnapping people from Africa to bring as slaves. It's the same logic used to justify destroying cultures and appropriating them. “We are helping the savages because they don't know any better.” This is the problem when judging a culture based solely on one's own culture. You kill the culture. You force it to follow your rules instead of studying it based on its own terms to better understand why it developed the way it did.

Zeus is a keystone part of the religion and I will always do my best to explain his importance.

I will always do my best to discourage ethnocentric talking points when people try to put him down because they don't realize they are using the same logic colonizers used against my people and every POC culture in history. They don't realize they are essentially calling the ancient Greeks “savages” in the same way white settlers called the same POC people they were killing while stealing their land and resources.

Zeus is the main figure in the Ancient Hellenic religion.

Everyone else is a part of his court but as the king of the gods, his part in the religion is essential and a key component of it is Xenia, hospitality.

When you start to judge the ancient Greek culture based on its own rules you will see that Zeus is order, that's why the theogony starts with chaos, in order to show how Zeus turned chaos into order. When you start to judge the ancient culture based on its own rules you will see that people used Zeus to justify their ancestry so of course he will have human children because, as the king of the gods, the ancient Greeks believed Zeus appointed kings via birthright because monarchies are by birthright. (He can't have them solely with Hera or they will just be gods, he needs to have them with a human to create demigods).

The idea behind him raping women stems from the misunderstanding of what was defined as rape in the ancient world. No matter the age or how willing they were, women back then were not able to consent because they were not in charge of their own lives. The consent needed to come from their fathers/husbands/whatever man was in charge, that's why it's often translated as rape, because there was no consent given by the men in charge because oftentimes they didn't know the child was a demigod until they were older and started showing signs of being different than other humans.

Just like how we have people who compete in the Olympics today, or people that are very talented or gifted, there were a lot of people back then who were also extraordinary humans and instead of thinking “wow, humans can be incredible,” the ancient Greeks believed an extraordinary human was the secret love child of a human and a god, depending on their specialty and which god that fell under, like Alexander the Great who was thought to be the son of Zeus, or Pythagoras (inventor of the Pythagorean theorem) who was thought to be the son of Apollo.

It's okay to acknowledge ancient views were different from modern views and progress for women has changed over time because these are stories that are older than the literal Bible so of course progress will happen and the ancient and modern world will be very different. But it's never okay to judge an ancient culture using the same logic that was used to destroy cultures and enslave people.

I defend Zeus because I do my best to destroy ethnocentric views whenever they pop up.

This is why research is so important and why I try to provide it as often as I can because once you start judging the culture based on its own laws and actual rules, you'll find that:

Zeus is incredible.

#zeus #zeus deity #hellenic polytheism #pagan #Greek gods #helpol

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morbethgames · 2 months ago

Text

The Recoding of The Bureau is Finished

I’m done recoding the game. All in all, it was honestly about what I expected to be slimmed off once I got a good look at some of the scenes. As I expected, 90% of that were from the first 3 chapters. I am a mix of emotions after arduously spending hours upon hours replacing gender variables one at a time by hand. Which unfortunately, I couldn’t think of another way for doing it, because all of the characters were using the same gender variables instead of independent ones for each character.

I’m relieved it’s done. Disappointed in myself that I had to do it at all. Irritated that some people decided to put the game on blast for it rather than give actionable suggestions on how to fix it. Excited to finally be able to continue writing both the extra scenes that need to be written and the main story. I honestly don’t know which one I’m going to continue with first.

Please leave feedback.

There are still no doubt one or two spots with maybe 1-2k words each that could be slimmed down, but that would require a lot of work for very little payoff. So yes, I’m comfortable saying, the game is almost 400k words long in total. 85k words per playthrough. That’s not including the extra scenes in the stats screen, because randomtest doesn’t go in the stats screen (to my knowledge at least, someone can correct me if I’m wrong). So you still have to play the game roughly 5 times and choose different choices to see everything it has to offer.

Is the game smaller? A bit, yeah. Is it 100-150k? It’s more than double that.

Now, that doesn’t say anything for the state of some of the writing. If I have to read someone nodding, or smiling, or ‘slightly’, ‘a bit’, or ‘a little’ something in my own work again, I’m gonna jump out a window. Obviously, back when I started writing this, I was very much influenced by Wayhaven. I’ve since grown out of that idea. Since the game has taken on an identity of its own, and while I will forever be grateful to that series and continue to support it, there’s gonna be some changes in the final version of this game. Less of what I said above, less ellipses, and the flirting (especially in the beginning) will seem much more down to earth and believable for the setting it’s in, with a bit of wiggle room since this is still very much a YA game.

Please leave feedback.

The rewrite will not be happening until the first draft of the game is fully finished. I refuse to get stuck in a rewrite phase, mostly because I would just find it way too boring.

My patreon will continue to have static fiction on it, as well as sneak peeks into upcoming stuff. In case you’ve been missing it, Love In Stasis is up to Chapter 6 at this point, with more to come. I’m also thinking about potentially starting a horror static fiction.

I’ll be relying on people to playtest this new version of the game to tell me about any continuity errors, and gender errors, any anything errors. So please, play the demo. Let me know if you notice anything. I think if I’ve proved anything at this point, it’s that I act and fix things based on feedback.

And pettiness.

But mostly feedback.

Please leave feedback.

Last thing I’ll say; I’m gonna stop saying I’m bad at coding. Someone who’s bad at coding wouldn’t have been able to implement the text boxes and fine tune them. Someone who’s bad at coding wouldn’t have been able to code Golden Eyes. Someone who’s bad at coding wouldn’t have been able to slim down the game that much from where it was. So it’s time I give myself the credit of someone who at least knows what they’re doing. I’m not adept at it, but I’m certainly not bad at it either.

I’m still expecting the game to end up over 500k words when all is said and done. It will not be one million words, but I’m actually kind of happy about that. This is proof I’m still working on this game, and the next time it updates, it will have new content. Thanks for those that are patient and stick around, your support does still genuinely mean a lot.

Please leave feedback.

Stay Brilliant,

-Vi

P.S. Please leave feedback.

🛡��Patreon | Forum Page | Demo Link🛡️

#interactive fiction #the bureau #writing #interactive novel #wip #work in progress #original story #choicescript #reading #books and reading #murder mystery #mystery #indiedev #indie author #indie game #romance

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steddiealltheway · 2 years ago

Text

Thinking of a steddie neighbor “enemies” to lovers AU. Oh my gosh it’s so long again and now there’s ronance.

Steve is a middle school teacher, and he’s lucky to find a small house that’s close to the school he’s teaching at after the summer ends. In fact, he seems a little too lucky. It’s only after he’s signed all the papers that the old tenets show up to warn him not to buy the house because the crazy neighbor next door.

Steve kind of shrugs it off and thinks nothing of it because he’s dealt with crazy before, and his students give him something new to deal with every day.

During the move in process, he keeps glancing at the dark house next door. Sometimes he thinks he sees something, but whenever he looks there’s nothing there. Until one time when the neighbor seems to get something caught in the curtains and is unable to close them fast enough. But still, it’s only a small slit open and with the sun beating down, the glare is too harsh to really see anything.

For the rest of the day, he doesn’t see a single curtain move. And by the end of the day, when all his boxes are moved inside his house, Steve wants more than anything to just go to sleep on the bed he tiredly put together. Some of the corners aren’t tucked in properly, and Steve definitely doesn’t remember what box he put his pillows in, but he collapses on his bed quickly on the verge of sleeping.

Then, he can see, or rather hear, what the neighbors meant. There’s a screeching noise and then some loud crazy riffs being played from some guitar next door. Steve covers his ears and groans when he realizes that it’s not going to help anything. It’s as if the neighbor is playing their guitar outside the house.

It’s a new era of Steve’s life, so instead of letting it go, he decides he’s going at the issue head on. He groans as he pries himself out of his bed. Okay, maybe letting it go would be a better idea, but what happens when school is back in and he needs to sleep?

This is absolutely the right decision.

As he steps out the front door, he instantly realizes the problem. The neighbor has cracked the window next to Steve’s house as if he’s trying to be a nuisance. Maybe the old tenets were right.

As Steve approaches the front door, he glances around the porch and catches sight of a skeleton sitting on a small chair with a mug attached to its bony hand. Upon closer inspection, Steve notices it’s a Garfield mug which makes him smile a little. Maybe a little crazy isn’t too bad.

But the blasting from the house is bad. Steve takes a deep breath and loudly knocks on the door. The music halts almost immediately and it takes a few moments and a bit of cursing from the other side of the door for it to finally creak open.

Oh Christ.

The door slowly opens revealing longer dark curly hair, pale skin, big doe eyes, full lips, and altogether Steve’s absolute daydream which he guesses might quickly turn into a nightmare as the man smirks. “Hello, my handsome new neighbor,” the man flirts easily.

Steve won’t play this game though. He’s too smart now to open up this easily. His mouth forms into a tight straight line before he corrects the man, “Steve. And you are?”

“Eddie. A pleasure to meet you,” the neighbor replies with a bright smile as he bows dramatically.

Steve nearly groans at the sight of his head going dow-

No. He’s not doing that. That’s a recipe for disease. Instead, he’ll get to the point. “Nice to meet you, too, Eddie,” Steve ignores how nice the name falls out of his mouth as he continues, “It would be even nicer if you closed your windows or turned down your amps this late at night.”

Eddie’s eyebrows furrow, and he glances down at his watch. “It’s ten o’clock.”

Steve sighs, “Yes, and I need to sleep.”

The neighbor eyes Steve up and down for a moment. “What if I kept playing?”

Steve has no idea why he says it, maybe it’s the sleep deprivation, tiredness from the move, or the fact that his neighbor is a bit overwhelmingly hot. But he answers, “Then you’re starting a war.”

It’s clearly the wrong thing to say because the tampered down mischief in Eddie’s eyes light up. He holds out his hand, and Steve reluctantly takes it. “War it is,” Eddie says with a shake of his hand. “Goodnight, Steve.” Eddie squeezes his hand one time then releases it. The door is closed before Steve can process what’s happening.

With a sigh, Steve makes his way back to his house. Before he can make it there, the loud music already starts blasting again.

A little crazy is definitely bad.

Nearly an hour later, the music continues as Steve desperately tries to put a pillow over his head to block it out. He’s never been one that’s able to sleep with loud noises, but, no matter what, he will still wake up early in the morning and be unable to fall back asleep.

He groans and turns to the clock he ended up unpacking instead of sleeping. A few seconds until eleven o’clock. He watches as the seconds tick by, and as soon as it hits eleven the music stops. Strange.

But then the music continues again, and Steve nearly screams. But then he realizes… it’s different. It’s softer as if he’s playing a lullaby. And as much as Steve hates to admit it, it’s kind of lulling him to sleep.

It’s definitely not on purpose though. Even from their brief interaction, Eddie doesn’t seem to be the type to go easy when calling war. Maybe he’s just trying to get into Steve’s head.

As the soft music drones on, Steve finds himself drifting off to thoughts about his new neighbor.

-:-:-:-:-:-

The next morning, Steve wakes up to the sight of the sun rising and blinding him through his windows. He needs to hang up his curtains. He stretches and slowly gets out of bed knowing he won’t be able to go back to sleep.

Time to start unpacking. He makes his way to the garage and peaks out the window on his way. All of Eddie’s curtains are drawn, and Steve doubts that he’ll be awake for hours.

When he opens the garage door, he spots something… interesting. Something that will make Eddie’s life a little miserable…

A lawnmower.

Now, Steve knows the lawn doesn’t really need to be mowed at the moment. But to get revenge… it’s worth it.

He still waits a few hours until it’s a somewhat reasonable hour for mowing. He doesn’t want the other neighbors hating him. He decides to start up the lawnmower right next to the window Eddie left open the night before.

A few seconds later, Steve sees the curtains yanked open and the window slammed down. He lets himself smirk a little at the mini tantrum. As he’s finishing up the first strip, he hears the front door to Eddie’s house slam shut even over the lawnmower.

Steve turns the other way to face his and Eddie’s houses as he mows the next strip. He glances up and waves with a big smile. Eddie is swamped in a large black blanket and squinting, or rather glaring as if the sun had personally offended him.

Steve stops the lawnmower and takes a minute to gloat. As the noise dies down, Steve asks, “Not a morning person?”

Eddie just frowns at him. It looks as if he’s taking all his brain power to come up with a response. His voice, low and raspy with sleep replies, “I would be if I had a better view.”

Steve huffs but looks down at his shirt that’s already starting to get a little damp with sweat. The morning sun in the summer is overwhelmingly hot, and Steve doesn’t want the farmer’s tan. He winks at Eddie before stripping his shirt off and tossing it at him.

“Better?” Steve asks as the shirt hits Eddie and falls on the deck.

“Much better, thank you,” Eddie says and has the nerve to join the little skeleton on his porch to sit and watch as Steve mows.

Steve tries not to think too much about it, but he’s overly aware of the attention. Not that he doesn’t like it, but he feels like he’s not winning the war. Time to call in Robin for reinforcement.

-:-:-:-:-:-

The next few days pass by with Eddie playing loudly every night until eleven o’clock when he finally starts playing soft tunes that lull Steve to sleep. Steve pays him back by one morning mowing Eddie’s lawn while he watches. The next morning, he spends weed whacking his own yard, and the next day is spent weed whacking Eddie’s. Every time, Eddie is woken up but sits outside.

If Steve is being completely honest, the music helps him sleep, so he doesn’t feel like he’s losing the war too bad. But today is the day he figures out how to win because it finally worked in Robin’s schedule for her to come over later.

And after Steve shares the whole story after dramatically telling her it’s too much to share over the phone, he regrets it as Robin bursts out laughing. “You’re telling me,” Robin stops to laugh again, “You’re telling me that you’re complaining about going to bed an ‘hour later,’ but the reason you go to bed early is because you struggle to fall asleep. And his music is actually helping you, so you’re basically going to sleep at the same time. Plus, you’re doing his yard work while he ogles you, and you think this is a war?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what this is,” Steve says seriously. No other explanation.

“No, this is a weird mating ritual. God, your neighbors must hate you,” Robin comments before laughing again.

Steve sighs, “Robin, I seriously want to win against this guy. I mean, I even nicely asked him to stop playing so late.”

Robin eyes him. “Did you really?”

“Probably not,” Steve answers honestly, knowing it’s no use to lie to Robin. She figures out everything anyway.

“Here’s a plan,” Robin says opening a box and looking through it. “Why don’t you just ask Eddie’s neighbor what they do when he plays late at night? They clearly have some solution. And the true way to win the ‘war’ is by letting it not affect you anymore. Then, you don’t have to do yard work, and you’ll be taking away his view in the morning.”

…honestly, it’s a great plan. It really is. So much so that it’ll probably stop this whole war thing in its tracks. “No, I have to win this thing,” Steve replies instead of agreeing.

Robin sighs and grabs him by the wrist. “Come with me.” Instead of giving him the option, she practically drags him out the door. “Now, we’re going to meet this next-door neighbor of the infamous Eddie and give you a reasonable solution before you do anything irrational.”

Before Steve can disagree, Robin has him dragged out the door and two houses down. She knocks on the door. “And maybe you’ll see that the solution was so simpl-”

The door opens and out comes the other neighbor. Steve watches as Robin’s jaw drops as she takes in the sight of the shorter girl with curly hair and big blue eyes. “Hi?” The girl says.

Robin’s mouth opens and closes.

“Hey,” Steve says and reaches out his hand to greet her. “I’m your neighbor two houses down, and this is my best friend Robin. Sorry for stopping by in the evening. She was just telling me that I needed to introduce myself to some of the people in the neighborhood. Right, Robin?” Steve prompts when he notices that the girl is eyeing Robin too.

“I’m Nancy,” the neighbor says with a smile. She reaches her hand out to Robin.

“Robin,” Robin blurts out and takes a moment to shake Nancy’s hand.

The two girls shake hands for an embarrassingly long time. And Steve hates to interrupt for Robin’s sake, but he has to ask, “So, we were wondering how you dealt with Eddie’s music at night.” He cringes as he takes in how blunt he is, but he’s honestly curious.

Nancy laughs and replies, “Honestly, it was much worse before you moved. He would play until the early AMs.”

Steve thinks she must be wrong. Maybe he continues playing that lullaby stuff through the night. “You mean the softer lullaby stuff, right?”

Nancy shakes her head with a small smile. “Not at all. I’ve never heard him play like that before. Then again, my solution is noise cancelling headphones.”

Robin smacks Steve on the arm, “I told you the solution was simple. Plus, this really doesn’t sound like war, does it?”

Nancy leans against her doorway and asks, “Is doing his yard work supposed to be war?”

“That’s exactly what I said! See, Steve,” Robin says with a bright smile that Steve notices catches Nancy’s eye.

“Fine, then you two can see what happens when I don’t do anything tomorrow morning,” Steve says resting his hand on his jutted-out hip. Robin’s lip twitches as she holds back on making fun of him for the “mom stance.”

Robin smiles and says, “Well, I don’t have anywhere to be tonight or tomorrow morning, so I will stay the night.”

“I don’t have anywhere for you to sleep so you can’t,” Steve lies, knowing exactly where the air mattress is packed away.

“You can stay here,” Nancy suggests. “I’ll also be up early to spy on the drama.”

Steve recognizes the exact moment Robin processes what she’s said as her eyes widen a bit. “Promise I’m not a murderer,” Nancy says with a wink that seems to further melt Robin’s brain.

As much as Steve doesn’t want to give Robin more reason to make fun of him in the future, he has to give it to Nancy for how direct she is. He thinks he’s gonna like this girl.

“Well, we’ll go grab Robin’s stuff, and she’ll be back shortly. I’m going to crash pretty soon before the show starts,” Steve says with a smile. “It was very nice to meet you.”

“It was nice to meet you, Steve. I’ll see you soon, Robin,” Nancy says with a wave as she closes the door.

“Holy shit.”

“Robin, please save your freak out for a few moments when we get back inside my house. She can see you through the windows.”

Robin whispers under her breath a few more expletives on their quick walk back. “Holy shit!” Robin yells as they get inside.

Oh boy.

A few pacing freak outs, a quick pep talk, and a lot of fixing hair and makeup in the bathroom mirror later and Robin is finally on her way to Nancy’s. Steve watches through his window as she makes her way down the street. He has no idea how the hell it happened, but he’s happy for her.

…hopefully Nancy isn’t a serial killer…

Okay, maybe it’s a bad idea, but Steve needs to ask Eddie. He makes his way out his back door and sneaks over to Eddie’s house to the side window that’s already slightly open. He knocks on it a few times.

Eddie opens the curtains and lifts up the window some more. “Why hello Romeo. Why are you at my window instead of the door? Not that I’m complaining of course.”

“Nancy and my friend are spying on me. But I needed to ask if Nancy is a serial killer.”

Eddie stares at him for a moment. “Have you met Nancy?”

“Yes.”

“Then you know she isn’t a serial killer,” Eddie replies. “Is Robin the girl you were walking and holding hands with earlier?”

“Is that jealousy I’m hearing?”

Eddie shrugs. “Just trying to get in the head of the enemy.” It’s clear that Eddie is trying to be nonchalant about the whole thing but is failing to do so.

Rather than torture him by not answering, Steve quickly insists, “She’s my best friend. And she’s also staying the night at Nancy’s.”

Eddie sits on the window ledge. “Do they know each other?”

“Just met,” Steve says with a wide smile.

Eddie laughs and Steve can’t help but join him. Gosh he looks gorgeous.

Nope. Enemies. Right.

“I always knew Nancy had it in her. So, Robin’s… cool, right? I’ve got to watch out for Nance’s sake,” Eddie says and tucks a strand of hair behind his ear. Steve has the urge to tuck in the other side as well.

“Yeah. She’s great. Incredible really. Always has had my back,” Steve says trying not to gush too much. He needs to get out of this conversation fast before he does something dumb like continue it as if they are friends. “Well, I’m heading off to bed.”

“And I’m heading off to practice,” Eddie says with a wink. “Goodnight, Steve.”

“Goodnight, Eddie,” Steve replies and holds eye contact with him for a moment as he walks away.

Ending this war will probably be a good thing.

-:-:-:-:-:-

The next morning, Steve wakes up at his usual time, but instead of going to his garage, he starts to go through the boxes he hasn’t unpacked. He stares at the pile and sighs, “Yeah, this is gonna suck.”

A few hours later, and there’s a knock at Steve’s door. Probably Robin bored because nothing is happening.

He makes his way to the door and opens it. Not Robin. “Hey, Eddie. What’s up?” Steve asks, leaning against the doorway.

Eddie is weirdly not wrapped up in a blanket. He has his hands in the pockets of black, ripped jeans and rocks back on his heels. “I was just… checking if you’re okay.”

Steve stares at him for a moment and takes in the slight look of worry all over his face. He nods, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Eddie nods back and glances down. “I was just worried because… you weren’t waking me up with the usual ruckus. Thought something must've happened."

"Just unpacking this morning instead," Steve says with a shrug. Better to play it off as if it's nothing rather than giving Eddie the impression of the feelings that have already started to form.

"Right, well. I'll... head back then," Eddie says with a little wave. He makes it about two steps back before he turns around. "Is this about the music? I'll stop playing so late if it's really bothering you."

This is the part where Steve is supposed to say yes to this, send Eddie on his way, then celebrate. But after four days of this routine and so many nights of restful sleep... "No, it's not... it's not that. It’s um...” Steve trails off at a loss for words. “The war’s still on.”

Eddie smiles but it doesn’t seem entirely genuine. “Ah, getting in my head I see. I’ve gotta hand it to you, Steve, you aren’t just looks.”

Steve watches as Eddie leaves, shoulders tense as he walks back to his house. He catches sight of two figures two doors down waving at him. Robin and Nancy look like they’re huddled together, and shit, if Robin can do it so can Steve.

“Eddie!” Steve yells out. Eddie stops in his tracks and slowly turns around. “How about we make a peace treaty over dinner tonight?”

Eddie’s face slowly lights up with a genuine smile. “I’d really like that.”

“Finally!” A voice that sounds a lot like Nancy yells breaking the moment a bit. There’s loud laughter and a celebratory screech that is definitely Robin.

“Tell me,” Eddie says walking toward Steve’s porch, “How does one deal with loud and annoying neighbors?”

Steve laughs. “I have no idea, but I think my answer and Nancy’s will be very different.”

“Oh yeah? What are your answers?” Eddie asks, now walking up the steps.

“Well, you have to ask other questions first like: Are they one hundred percent your type to the point that you start a war with them that turns into you doing their lawn shirtless just to get their attention while they lull you to sleep at night?”

Eddie dramatically taps a finger on his chin and squints off as if he’s searching for the answer. “I have to say that Nancy... her answer will most likely be ‘no’ to that. I’m not sure though. Maybe we should ask her.”

Steve snorts and shoves at Eddie’s arm. Eddie locks eyes with him for a moment, and Steve can’t help but wonder if he could get lost in them forever. “Eddie?”

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes out as his eyes trace over Steve’s face and track down to his lips.

“Want to make that peace treaty over breakfast instead of dinner?”

Eddie smiles. “Absolutely,” he says and walks past Steve into his house before he’s invited inside. Steve can’t even be upset about it.

A glance down the street and Steve sees that Nancy is also heading inside but Robin trails behind looking towards Steve. He lifts his hand up and Robin does the same resulting in a quick air high five. They’re going to have a lot to talk about later.

My bday ficlet to you <3

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie ficlet #stranger things #robin buckley #steddie fanfic #ronance

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fiapartridge · 1 year ago

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💌can I suggest this with Jack Hughes? (Could really use maybe a comfort as reader has a panic attack?)

jack hughes x fem!reader

warning(s): panic attack, feeling suffocated

summary: waiting for jack after electric games had never been this hard before...

fia's notes 💌: hii! i've never written about panic attacks so i hope i wrote it as accurately as i could've. these things are different for everyone, so i just tried to write from my own experiences with them. if you get triggered by these things, maybe skip out on this one <3

The Prudential Center was alive with the echoes of the final horn, the crowd erupting into a thunderous roar as the game reached its end. Amidst the jubilation, you stood in the lobby, your heart racing with a different kind of intensity. You scanned the crowd anxiously, searching for a familiar face amidst the sea of fans.

You had always met Jack near the locker room after games, but this time, it felt packed and crowded. You felt suffocated and tossed around like a meaningless entity.

As the noise engulfed you, panic tightened its grip around your heart. Your breath came in short, shallow gasps, your chest constricting with each passing moment. You stumbled, your legs threatening to give out as the world spun around you. Pushing through heavy bodies and shouting fans, you held your shaking hands against a cool wall, turning around and sliding your back against it and down to the ground.

You couldn’t see straight, your eyes were clouded with tears, and your chest couldn’t stop heaving. It felt like a nightmare that you couldn’t wake up from. Without looking up, you heard a worried voice from above. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Nico’s voice ripped through the chaos. He bent down a little ways away from you, too scared to touch you in fear of making things worse. “Hey!” he yelled at someone you couldn’t make out. “Go get Jack right now!”

You pulled your knees tight to your chest, your forehead resting against them as you shook uncontrollably, your sobs growing more intensely. You gasped for breath, reaching for air like it was some sort of reward that you had to compete for. Still shaking and trying to calm down your body, not wanting to make a bigger scene than you already were, you didn’t notice the large hand gently placed on your knee. He sat close but not too close that you would be overwhelmed.

"It's okay, you’re okay, Y/N,” he spoke softly. "You're safe. You’re with me—Jack," he whispered, his voice a beacon of calm in the chaos of the lobby. "I'm here with you. Just focus on my voice, okay? You're okay."

Hearing his name was like seeing a small island in a raging storm. It was there, and you felt a moment of peace, but the storm was still pelting down on you as you clung to him desperately, your fingers grasping at the fabric of his hoodie as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. "I-I can't... I can't breathe," you panicked.

Jack held you gently, murmuring words of reassurance as he stroked your hair in soothing circles. He pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips warm against your skin. “Can you breathe with me?” he asked, not getting a response back. These moments always scared Jack, and you were always scared that these episodes would be too much for him; that he would leave you because of it, but that’s not why he was scared. He was scared that he couldn’t get you out of it; that he wasn’t what you needed. Boyfriends were meant to be protectors, they were meant to keep you safe, but if he couldn’t do that, then what good was he? Despite these fears, he was always the only one that could bring you back to shore. “Come on, baby. Can you breathe with me?”

You nodded weakly, trying to focus on Jack's voice. The lobby was almost cleared out by now, just a couple stragglers left, watching the scene from a distance. The moment was sure to be blasted on the internet later, but that was the least of your problems right now. Right now, you just had to get through this, one step at a time.

With each shaky inhale, you attempted to match the rhythm of his breathing, drawing in air in sync with him. "That's it," Jack encouraged. "Just focus on your breath. In... and out...You're safe," he whispered again. “You’re with me. You always have me.”

Slowly, gradually, the frantic pace of your breathing began to ease, the tightness in your chest loosening as you followed Jack's lead. His presence beside you was a comfort, grounding you in reality amidst the whirlwind of panic threatening to consume you.

As you continued to breathe together, the panic began to subside, replaced by a sense of calm born from the safety of Jack's embrace. You clung to him like a lifeline, your fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie as you sought refuge from the storm raging within your mind.

"Better?" Jack asked softly, his voice filled with concern as he gently brushed a stray tear from your cheek.

You nodded, your breathing steadier now, though your heart still raced with the lingering effects of the panic attack. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely above a hoarse whisper.

Jack leaned in closer, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Don’t thank me. I'm always here for you," he murmured.

Your lips curled up softly, your head resting against his chest as he pulled you in closer. Despite it all; despite the fears and the panic and the intensity, you were never alone. You always had Jack.

#> fias 600 celly! ★#jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fic #jack hughes imagines #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes fluff #jack hughes angst #jack hughes #new jersey devils #nj devils #njd

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artdcnaldson · 2 months ago

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been thinking a lot lately about how once you know someone growing up, you know them forever. art and patrick haven't spoken in years but patrick knows art's favorite kind of cereal. art and patrick haven't spoken in years but art has to turn the radio off when patrick's karaoke go-to comes on (don't stop me now by queen, obviously). art and patrick haven't spoken in years but patrick still sends an unsigned card to the nursing home on his grandmother's birthday. art and patrick haven't spoken in years but nobody knows either of them as well as they do.

Art goes through a box in the attic when he’s moving into his and Tashi’s new place. Lily’s on the way and they’re trying to make room for all of her stuff, which means downsizing things they don’t need anymore. Art sits on the floor, combing through old shirts he’d packed away, video games, half-destroyed Lego sets, cds… and then he finds his MRTA box.

Doubles tournament trophies with his and Patrick’s names engraved on the plaque or etched into the glass. Their state champions ribbons and plaques. Pictures of them that his grandmother clipped in newspapers, pictures printed that still have tiny thumbtack holes in them from where they were pinned to his bulletin board. He finds an old iPod and immediately plugs it in to charge. When he presses shuffle and it’s a song that he and Patrick used to sing with the windows down and volume at full blast in their first cars, he cries.

Patrick doesn’t have a box. Patrick’s stuff got packed away and stored in a home he doesn’t visit anymore. But he wears his MRTA shirt until there’s holes and it’s so soft he worries that each wash will be its last. He keeps his old flip phone with his original phone number charged and in his glove box, just in case Art calls since he won’t know his new number. His phone password is Art’s birthday, because at the academy he and Art made their locker combinations each other’s.

When they meet in New Rochelle, Patrick is expecting his Art. The same Art who showed up to MRTA with braces and a layer of baby fat and a Pokémon card collection. The same Art who puked his guts out the first time he drank and who Patrick taught to smoke cigarettes. Who Patrick taught a lot of things. His Art. His best friend, which he thought was permanent. The type of thing that doesn’t just… wash away.

He sees Art in the sauna and it’s not his Art anymore. He’s something else. He’s tired and angry and resentful. But maybe he’s somewhere in there. Patrick knows all about holding onto the past and not letting go.

#artrick #cries

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rom-e-o · 25 days ago

Text

You Failed Us All. [Emmrich/Rook]

Glimpses of the aftermath of Tearstone Island, when Emmrich watches Rook slip into the Fade.

[Inspired by a convo you can have with Hezenkoss in Emmrich's office. MAJOR SPOILERS for the end of the game. I hope you enjoy!]

“We’ll talk back home, Emmrich. I promise.”

She’d promised they would talk. She said that they would both make it home – whether that was the Lighthouse of Nevarra, he did not care – to talk. They’d put aside their disagreements and formally apologize for what they’d each said. They’d make up, and everything would be right as rain again. Unlike the others before, she would not leave him broken-hearted. They’re reunite, and he’d pull her into his arms and kiss her until all potential doubt of his enduring adoration was vanquished.

Then, in a flash of color and sound, she was gone.

Spirited into the Fade before anyone could lift a finger to help.

Emmrich stood in wide-eyed stupefaction at the slightly bloodied slab of pavement where, just moments before, his love had been crouching and extending an arm to pull Solas’ dagger from the thickly corded throat of Ghilan’nain.

One blink of the eyes later, and she’d slipped beyond dimensions, like the ground beneath her had turned to fog and she’s plummeted through.

For a moment, the world stood still. The vision of nothingness before him held his hostage and voiceless, even as the voices of his companions slowly coalesced around him.

“…nain! Ghilan’nain is down!”

The call came from Taash, whose voice bellowed even over the roar of flaming carnage on the horizon. They rushed up behind Emmrich, chest still heaving from the battle before. “Harding, where is Harding? Harding!”

Meanwhile, Neve’s eyes landed on the same spot where Emmrich was staring – the spot Rook had vanished from.

“S-She was just there." Her normally composed voice trembled like the wing of a frozen bird. “S-She couldn’t have …”

Then, Davrin’s resonant voice cut through the haze of confusion.

“Everyone, fall back!”

His command was punctuated by a furious screech from Assan. He waved everyone away from the carnage, calling to Lucanis for assistance. He looked like a true commander, poised and practiced.

Yet, even the Grey Warden’s tone, while effortlessly practiced at shouting demands, wavered slightly.

“We can’t stay here!” he shouted, his eyes darting about as he continued to watch for danger. “We need to move before any reinforcements come. We’ll be overrun. Everyone, regroup, now!”

“B-But we don’t have Rook!” Neve argued. She was reluctant to leave, despite her obvious injuries. “Or Bellara! Dammit, Elgar’nan still has her!”

Nearby, Taash paced about in panic. “Shit … Shit … No. This can’t be happening. I-It can’t be. Harding, Bellara, and Rook? W-We lost all three?”

“Taash, stay calm.”

“You want me to stay calm? That's vashedan, and you know it!"

“Listen, we can’t form a plan here,” Davrin repeated loudly. Once again, his voice wavered, but his tone left no room for objection.

The Warden turned to see a lone team member standing at the precipice of the platform, eyes trained on the darkened patch of pavement inches away. “Emmrich!”

The necromancer was lost in a storming sea of thought, his stare frozen to the spot that she had vanished from.

He’d told her to go, the man realized to his horror. It was his fault.

After Ghilan’nain had fallen from Lucanis’ strike, he’d called out to her over a blast of energy. The Fade had started to tear itself asunder, and plucking the dagger from the corpse was the only way to stop it. Those were the last words he’d shouted to her over the roar of the expanding abyss. “The dagger! Rook, you much break its contact with Ghilan’nain!”

She had done just that … and now, she was gone.

"Emmrich, we have to go."

Emmrich barely registered Lucanis sprinting up to him, forcing and arm around his shoulders, and pulling him away. He mumbled an apology as he pulled him away from the landing.

The backs of Emmrich's boots skipped along the smashed stones as he tried to dig his heels into place. No, they couldn't leave, he thought. Not without her.

“No,” he gasped meagerly, but the Crow spread his wings whisked him away all the same.“No!”

He tried to wrench himself free, but Lucanis held firm.

“I'm sorry,” the assassin whispered.

Emmrich would not hear him.

Instead, he screamed his lover’s name as loud as he could, hoping it could transcend realms and reach her.

He extended a gloved hand out, grasping at the air as if he could summon Rook’s fingers to twine with his. This gesture yielded no results.

With tearful eyes and racing minds, the team was forced to leave the Isle of the Gods. One elven god was slain, yet they limped away with their tails between their legs.

The Veilguard was down three pieces on their board.

One was dead.

Two were missing, one of whom was their leader.

And their secret weapon for the final gambit, Solas’ dagger, had vanished right along with her.

Into nothingness.

Following the Veilguard’s narrow escape from Tearstone Island, what remained of the team hunkered down in the Lighthouse to toil away ferociously.

With an absence of three usual voices, the halls were more silent than they should have been. The formerly vibrant hideout had become a shell of its former glory.

Harding's groan-inducing puns. Bellara's amicable chatter. Rook's humming, which had become an almost constant background noise to the team.

Their laughter, conversations, and their bustling energy ... all distractingly absent.

With or without their comrades, their final objective had not changed, and they could not afford to remain idle.

Davin took charge in her absence, as Rook has previously deemed him as a good second-in-command in the event something happened to her. Nobody else argued with this, as terrible as it felt to see the power change hands. It was a silent acknowledgement of the team’s worst fears, in a way. Rook was absent, but they needed to persist regardless. The mission went on, with or without her.

He and Assan worked to communicate with each faction the Veilguard had worked with. There were loose ends to tie up and supplies to replenish. Basic requests. He filled these requisitions and touched base with all their allies, making sure to keep all channels open and flowing. They were too far into battle to lose any pieces, and they’d need every ally in their corner possible to call upon soon for a final battle.

Neve was tasked with establishing any contact in Minrathous she could with the Shadow Dragons, Maevaris or Dorian. Lucanis also assisted her dutifully, tapping into whatever connections he could to help her keep taps on the Archon’s Palace.

“Elgarn’nan and Solas are going to want to make headway there,” Neve had reported shortly after their return. “It’s only a matter of who gets there first, and how.”

They received their dreadful answer when a tendril of blight snaked its way into the heavens to seize control of the Divine’s Manor in Hightown.

In the meantime, Taash created a memorial for Harding, and helped make sure the plants in her room were watered. It was likely a worthless task, they knew, but they carried it out with the utmost devotion in honor of the woman they loved. Had loved.

In between bouts of mourning, Taash trained mercilessly, until their muscles shook from exhaustion and standing became impossible.

Like Neve and Lucanis, they also hardly slept.

That left Emmrich.

Emmrich, with his knowledge and experience with the inner workings of the Fade, had arguably the biggest job of the remaining bunch.

If Rook was lost in the Fade, he was the one with the expertise and knowledge to find her.

Not to mention, the wildcard of Solas’ dagger was also still in play. It was a missing piece of the puzzle. There had to be some way to plan ahead for what play the Dread Wolf would want to make, he thought.

He had a choice to make on what to prioritize:

Rook, or the dagger.

After twenty-four hours of solitary grief, skipping bathing and shaving for the first time in his adult life, Emmrich reemerged into the Lighthouse library with renewed resolve.

Swinging open the mighty doors with both hands, he strode in from his private bedroom and faced a startled Manfred and a slightly panicked Hezenkoss.

“Back!” Manfred observed gleefully, gloved hands flying over his head in elation at the sight of his paternal guardian. Then, the lad glanced around in pained confusion. “No Rook?”

Upon returning from battle, Emmrich had been too emotional to tell the boy what had happened. He'd retreated to his room and hid, like an animal on the brink of death.

“Manfred,” the man ordered, his voice clipped, “Bring five pounds of every organic material we have in storage here at the Lighthouse to the library. Please."

The robed skeleton hesitated for only a moment before nodding and making his way to the reserves kept in another part of their fortress. Emmrich strode to his desk and began to pull out every

“You look disturbed,” Hezenkoss’ skull barked. “What in blazes is going on out there now?”

“We’ll speak on it later,” he said dismissively. “Perhaps you can make yourself useful in some way in the meantime.”

“So snippy. It’s hardly becoming of you.”

“I daresay I’ll live.” He sounded absolutely weary, he realized. All the sobbing had left his voice practically threadbare. He wondered if Johanna had heard him.

Then, the answer to his question was delivered as swiftly as an arrow to the back.

“Also, did I hear correctly? That our fearless leader slipped into the Fade?”

Shutting his eyes against the onslaught of memories and tears, he nodded breathlessly. “…Yes.”

“So it is!” Her words were stones thrown onto him, and he knew he deserved each one. “How could you let that happen, Volkarin? You of all people!”

“Johanna.” Emmrich’s normally bell-bright voice was laced with unusual finality. In a turn of events she never could have anticipated, her former associate was not in the mood for chatter. “I-I can’t. I must focus.”

“Focus now? It’s a little late for that, don't you think?”

“No.” The glare he aimed at her could have curdled milk. "It can't be. I will not accept that."

In all their years of friendship, he’d never spoken to her in such a way. With such venom, and also, such fear.

Something had shifted in him, she noted.

“You know,” she started, and heard him grumble (of all things!) at her disobedience, “Well, be like that. I was going to say something about that beloved little songbird of yours.”

He turned on his heel. Plum-colored circles under his eyes made the green in his hazel eyes blaze more than usual. “Spare me your sarcasm, please. I’m not in the mood to hear—”

“Something positive, Volkarin. Believe it or not, she and I had an enlightening conversation before you all departed. I thought perhaps you'd be interested in hearing it while you toiled away on whatever you need to do."

His face, and shoulders, fell at the admission. “You and her ... spoke?"

"Yes, actually."

"...And you want to tell me about it. Why?"

“You look like you could use some charitable inspiration," she offered. "And a shave. Heavens, no wonder you keep yourself groomed. Seeing you with such a dark shadow is uncanny!”

"Johanna, I-I ... I don't ..."

“I’ll choose to ignore that genuine confusion in your voice for now,” she said. “Just get to work, but listen. You seem to be in the mood for it, for once.”

“That young Watcher again.”

Belisma Ingellvar turned toward the idle skull on a nearby table. She’d been looking for Emmrich on her journey into the library, but he was absent for the moment. Disappointment clawed briefly at her heart, but she crested it as she stared at Hezenkoss with interest.

Well, she thought, perhaps it would be good for her and Johanna to speak. She and Emmrich had been friends, once. Long ago.

With a smile, she dropped into a perfect curtsey. “At your service."

“There’s those Necropolis-begotten manners,” the skull answered, eyes flashing green with each syllable. “…Look at you.”

Belisma straightened her back vertebrae by vertebrae, her dancer’s poise still perfect even at 35 years of age. “What about me?”

“A necromancer wasting the prime of her life solving the problems of others,” Hezenkoss practically tutted. “Tragic. You would have been taught much differently if you were my apprentice. I can see your potential.”

Everyone with something to gain seems to have the easiest of times seeing the potential in complete strangers, she thought with some amusement. Then again, who was she to talk? Her own bright cheer about finding common ground was what steered her into the current conversation with a woman she had almost been forced to kill in battle mere days before.

Belisma crossed her arms and stepped forward. Even when sauntering idly, her heels always clicked back together into First Position. “You seem to hold a powerful grudge against the Mourn Watch.”

“I wisely cast off all their talk of obligations to the long dead,” the half-lich answered. “But I assume you’re more of a traditionalist Watcher. Like Volkarin. He’s skilled enough. If only the man possessed any vision.”

“Assumptions? From you?” Belisma asked, chuckling softly. “You’re better than that.”

“Hm. Perhaps I misjudged you. Perhaps you’re different. You seem to process sharper insight than some others here.”

“There is nothing different about me.” Belisma’s hands came together behind her to rest comfortably against her lower back. It also hid the obsessive fiddling she did with her nails; a habit that only came out when she was uneasy.

And despite the powerful wards (not to mention the hilarity of her humiliating confinement) Hezenkoss did make her uneasy.

“Well, there is something about you,” Hezenkoss said. “A certain quality that magnetizes people. Some of the little pawns you’ve attracted are … interesting. Surprising.”

“Like Emmrich?”

“The man has always been more comfortable in a crowd,” Johanna recounted with a sneer (or, what could sensibly be discerned as a sneer). "Can’t you tell from how perfectly he has wedged himself into your little group?”

“Well, ‘wedged’ is harsh.”

“As students, he would always drag me to some preposterous party or salon. It’s a wonder that chattering gadabout got any work done, the way people fawned over him.”

“The life of the party, was he?” Belisma asked, her voice warm. “Always in demand?”

“Oh, he was," she grumbled. "Annoyingly so, and he still somehow aced all his studies."

A man with a full dance card. It sounded befitting of a charismatic gentleman like him.

She imagined it briefly; a twenty-something Emmrich with his ink-colored hair stylishly in disarray as he laughed over a coupe glass of maraschino liqueur and crème de violette with a band of other rambunctious students, all while Johanna huffed about being pulled along. It was an amusing image, she had to admit. Yet, a sadness gripped her heart at the thought.

Even back then, he'd craved human connection so openly.

A man beloved by all, yet desperate to belong. A man with no family, searching for companionship the only way he knew how.

“I believe you,” Belisma said. “Quite easily, actually.”

The ghostly visions of Emmrich’s past life danced through her mind. How adored he was; and how much he’d be missed by his peers and students if something were to happen to him.

The man was an absolute paragon, and here he was with her, risking it all to save the word. He was an inspiration, she thought. Certainly more worthy of acclaim, and living, than someone like her.

As if reading her mind, Hezenkoss pierced her veneer of calm with a simple question.

“Do you know what I think, young Watcher?”

“I couldn’t say.”

“I think you have anger deep down inside you,” Hezenkoss remarked. “I see that same fury in you that I once saw in myself. That barely contained rage.”

“Once saw? Barely contained?”

“We are not so different, Ingellvar,” she hissed. “You don’t want to admit that, do you?”

“Well, we do share a similar taste in lipstick. But that is as far as the confirmed comparisons go, I’m afraid.”

Johanna didn't miss a beat in bringing down her reply like the blade of a hatchet.

“You are too poised, too polite,” the half-lich continued, undeterred. "Too calculated."

"Poignant."

"Your ankles always comes together between steps. You always braid your hair to the right. Your livery is always pressed to perfection. You're always the last to accept food at meals. You cover your mouth when you laugh. Always."

"All things you've noticed?"

"All things I've been told."

The statement nailed her tongue to her jaw.

“You’ve lived a life of restraint, have you not?" Johanna continued. "Discovered in the crypts as a Foundling. Then roamed the streets of Nevarra before finally accepting the Watchers. What happened next? Certainly you didn’t go right into the academy.”

Ah, so Johanna was curious about her. Such preamble, all to ask her about her past.

Well, she could oblige her in a little entertainment. After all, what else did a sedentary skull have?

The slender woman floated to the red armchair nearby and angled it so they could sit face-to-face. Once seated, the two were practically at eye-level.

Knowing that her earlier years of life lacked any useful information for Hezenkoss to weaponize, she answered truthfully.

“Well, I needed some time to adjust to life in the Necropolis,” Belisma said. "As most do."

Before becoming a member of the Mourn Watch, Belisma had been found by the ambling undead inside a Necropolis tomb as a wailing baby.

“I was raised by fellow necromancers and joined the order when I was old enough,” she said. “I paid my dues. Dusted tombs, cleaned dishes, the usual tasks. I swept a lot. Danced while I did it, when I could. Then, when I was 18, I caught the eye of a visiting coordinator for the Nevarra Royal Ballet.

"He was in the Necropolis to seek assistance with a disputed will after a recent death in the family. While there, he requested to see how Watchers were trained in combat. He needed some new talent, I suppose. My lesson was the one he caught on his excursion. He came back three times every week until he finally recruited me. He said I looked like I could handle the demands of the art. Oh, I was delighted. I hoped for such a day for such a long time! A chance to leave the Necropolis, see the city, and just ... dance."

"The Watchers allowed such an arrangement? Sounds like a dreadful distraction."

"Well, I was only a student, not a more esteemed researcher like you or Emmrich."

The obvious flattery earned an appraising hum, allowing her to continue.

“They believed that it would bolster positive relations between the Watchers and Nevarra’s prominent nobility to have a beloved performer in their ranks,” she said. “And it did, for many years. Until there was a conflict among the undead nobility—”

“The War of the Banners, yes? Some bickering between two noble simpletons.”

“Yes.” The admission came with a heavy sigh. “I … I led the attack on the rebellion's dueling leaders to redirect their attention, and put a stop to the conflict before it could grow further."

"Why bother?"

"Nobody else was doing anything to stop it, and someone had to step up. Others had families and children. Partners. I was unmarried, with no prominent family name to sully or disappoint. It was natural that I bear the responsibility.”

“How stupidly selfless of you,” Hezenkoss quipped. “So, in battle, you were victorious. Very commendable.”

“That depends on who you ask,” Belisma answered carefully. “The war they wanted to wage, at its fullest scale, would have killed innocents. But Nevarra’s nobility are a passionate and—”

“Moronic.”

“—Persnickety bunch. Always have been, from what I’ve studied. Nobody can decide on who is best to rule, what that should look like, if King Markus is actually … anyway, they do not like to be challenged, or humbled. They saw my interference as an insult to Nevarra’s bygone pillars of society.”

“Pah! That sounds like them.” While she and Emmrich shared precious few beliefs following recent events, Belisma did note with amusement that they shared a distaste for nobles.

“The families of those nobles went to the Mourn Watch, insulted by what I had done,” she said. “I was summoned that night and told that I had insulted the order's aristocratic patrons. As such, I was encouraged to travel for a while.”

“Disappear, you mean.”

“Yes. Until things calmed down, at least.”

“So, you took one for the team,” Johanna said, “And you alone paid the price, and ended up a rogue on the streets of Minrathous.”

“Well, someone had to do it.”

“You sound pleased as punch about that,” Johanna quipped. “I suppose Nevarra had no traveling troupe for you to join?”

“I was dismissed immediately after the incident,” she admitted. “Nobles had no interest in seeing a traitor on their ballet’s stage, and I would have ruined the company's chances of survival, even if they would have wanted me to stay."

Struggling to keep her voice even, she said, "I doubt I’ll ever be able to dance again in Nevarra.”

“…So, you were ‘traveling’ when you got wrapped up in this little adventure?”

“I, apparently, invite confidence from strangers. Lucky me.”

“You don’t like leadership.” You don’t want to be here. “You hide it with a smile and your little bows and swoops and curtsies, but you don’t want this responsibility.”

Belisma’s lips stretching into a tight grin. “You catch on quick.”

“Or you’re simply bitter.”

“So, lipstick and bitterness bind us,” Belisma admitted with a light laugh.

Johanna barked out a laugh. “A fool who isn’t foolish. What a leader you are.”

Right. Some leader she was.

Some Watcher she was, uselessly puttering around the Fade with a dwindling hope of escape. She was weak, freezing, and terrified. Worst of all, she didn’t know the status of her companions. What had happened to them now that she had fallen into this dimensional cage?

“I never wanted this,” Belisma said. She faced the hazy apparition of Varric, her former mentor and friend, in teary shame. “I’m sorry. I’m … I’m horrible at this.”

The porcelain-pale apparition stared back at her with the same comforting stare he'd offered in life. "Hey, now. Cut yourself some slack, kid. I don’t think many people would handle this well, given the circumstances."

“I should have never become the leader of this team. How did I ever think I could do this? I should have ... opted out when I could."

"Opted out? Shit, I don't remember getting that paperwork when we confronted Solas. Though, I wouldn't have put it past him to have a policy overview drafted."

"Varric. Please. You know what I mean. I should have—"

“Did you just forget that you and your team just took down one of the blighted eleven gods?” Varric asked with a smirk. Even as a ghost in the Fade, he still snorted in infuriating amusement at her stress. “I wouldn’t diminish the effort that took. Or the sacrifice.”

Right. The sacrifice. Sacrifices, more accurately. How many had actually perished so far? How many elves? Wardens? Soldiers? Friends.

Harding.

“All of this happened because I disrupted the ritual,” she carried on, undeterred. “I should have never opened my mouth.”

“I recall it being my call to try and talk Solas down,” he said. “Neve and Harding were there too. Nobody else was coming up with any better plans, Rook. You did what you had to do.”

Right. Isn’t that just my life. Stepping up when nobody else wants to, then paying the price.

“My choice left Treviso in ruin,” she said. Each word left her as a ragged rush of air. Panic was sinking in. The doubt. The anger. Everything blurred into a mist of panic. “H-Harding is dead because I asked her to lead the distraction team.”

“You made impossible choices,” Varric reminded her. “That is what every leader must do. Your team knew the risks. Just like I did.”

Belisma tipped her head to the sky and laughed. “I’m leading this team to their deaths, Varric.”

“You know that’s not true,” he said. “You don’t want to die, kid. You might think you deserve it, but you don’t want that.”

“Don’t I?”

He stared her down, his gaze hard as concrete. In that moment, he looked more like a father than a friend. It lured the truth out of her.

“…You’re right. I don’t. Want to die, I mean.”

“Who does?” Varric joked. “Most avoid it for as long as they can. Too much to leave behind, you know?”

Inevitably, she thought of Emmrich. Was he okay? Had he made it off Tearstone Island? His voice had been the last one she’d heard. He'd sounded so far away. So worried.

"You've got someone to go back to, right?"

Oh, Maker, she hoped he was well.

She prayed with all her heart that he was well ...

Even if that meant he was mourning her.

Hope you enjoyed! <3

Next up: their reunion.

#emmrook #johanna hezenkoss #datv #dragon age the veilguard #datv spoilers #rook ingellvar #rook x emmrich #emmrich x oc #oc belisma ingellvar #emmrich volkarin

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nescaveckwriter · 8 months ago

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Hey, lovely! 🥰

So I'll put the request here too to make it easier for you to answer: can I request a fic from you where Dean falls asleep on Y/N's shoulder when they're hanging out with her family like that dream I told you about 🥹 something sweet and fluffy, and maybe she'll later tease Dean, but just a little 😆🤭

Love you and thank you! 🤍☀️

❤️. Awww @k-slla 🐞... I really hope this is what you had in mind, Oh goodness 🤭 its such a cute request 🥰 and I love you too 💕... Also I'm going to tag @artyandink for my first post on the #Jensenathon and then @anyfandomgoesbingo for my fist square ('Game Night, will be in bold') 🤭🥰 hopefully y'all like this . 🥰🤭🐞

Warnings: I'm going to say 18+ only ya know just for precaution 😅 but honestly there's none, just fluffy and sweetness.

Words: 1015

A little fun !! 🤭❤️❤️

He's hand runs over his freckled face, it's been a rough couple of days, he's been struggling more to sleep, than in a while, everything weighing so heavily on his shoulders, so when I came running towards him, big smile plastered on my face, almost excitedly jumping up and down, like a two year old, "Dean! Babe?" His green eyes stare into mine, and I feel butterflies swirling around again, "Sweetheart? Don't you seem all excited!"

Laughing "I am, it's been awhile since we had a fun time" giving him a Bambi-like glaze "so, my parents invited us to Game night, please can we go?"

He couldn't keep the smile from tugging at the corners of his perfect plum lips, "That sounds like fun sweetheart"

"Really?" I yelped.

He pulls me into one of those breath stopping hugs, tugging his head into the crook of my neck , the hot air of his breath tickling against my skin , while he whispers "your the only bit of light in this world you know that?" I just hugged him back, unsure how to reply, the emotion welling up in my eyes, so instead of saying a single word, I held him tight, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, just lightly running my fingers, in his hair. I'm not sure how long we held each other in that heartfelt embrace but without saying a single word, it spoke of love, trust, peace, maybe the only sense of peace we had in our lives.

Blasting the radio loudly, playing Dean's favourite Led Zeppelin songs, on the drive over to my parents house, we got out, in a quite cheerful mood, well I could still see the heaviness in those emerald green orbs of his, but I made a quick promise to myself that, I'll do anything in my power, to make sure he has a little fun and relaxes a bit. So without further due, I grabbed his hand, which in return he held the beer and some of the snacks. We rang the doorbell and got welcomed as if we were long lost. We walked in and the living room, spoke of fun with the board games all stacked up, there was wine, and beer, finger foods, it spelled laughter and fun.

As the night got started and we were teamed up together we laughed and shared stories throughout the games. When Dean ate all the pie and some other snacks, me and my mom went into the kitchen, to get some more snacks. When she smiled looked at me and said, "Sweetie,you look so happy are you?"

My eyes glistened, "Mom! I'm not happy, I'm overjoyed, I simply adore Dean, I love him more than anything in this world" soft tears rolled down my mom's cheeks, "Sweetie I'm so happy for you, he looks like a good man" I nod, "He is mom, he has his problems but when it comes to me, he treats me like a queen". And with that we walked back to where Dean and the rest of my family were sitting. He gave me that smirk, of his, the one that made my knees weak, and I smile back, he pats the seat next to him, and I gladly obliged, he placed a sweet kiss on my cheek, I placed my hand on his thigh, giving him a slight squeeze, after my father cleared his throat he said we should maybe play a card game, and so we started.

The rest of the night was filled with laughter, an accusation of cheating every now and again, but it was all playful, and light hearted fun, and as the night went on, everyone taking turns, when it came to Dean's turn, I felt his head resting on my shoulder, and when I looked down, I saw his eyes were closed, the man fell asleep in the middle of room filled with people. I didn't have the heart to wake him up, or even stir a little, so I took the beer out of his hand, and the left over cards and sat it down with mine, mouthing to my parents that we are done playing for the night so I just watched them play further on, until one for one got up and either went home or to bed, leaving me and Dean in the living room, his head still on my shoulder. It didn't take long for my eyelids to fall close, my head gently rested against him.

The night turned into early morning sunrays lighting up the room, my eyes fluttering open only to be met by his forest green orbs, his voice gruffly "Sweetheart when.. what... How?" Smiling, I look at him, my own voice a little croaky from the sleep, "No! Apparently we're so boring and not good company at all, you fell asleep while we were playing cards"

Dean looked shocked and ashamed "Sweetheart it's not that, it's, I'm so sorry okay, I don't..." I pressed a finger on his lips , "Shhh, babe I'm joking, I know you were tired" A smile tugs at his plum lips, "really you had to make me feel bad didn't you?" Shrugging my shoulders, chuckling a bit "I couldn't help myself, sorry my love" he looks at me as if he's looking into soul, "I love you, you know that right?" Nodding about to answer but before I could, he's lips crashed against mine in a searing kiss, his fingers tangled in my hair, I couldn't hold the small moan escaping my lips, the grin on Dean's lips was unmistakable, he shifted slightly, gently guiding me to lay on the couch, I giggled, whispering "My parents'' pressing his finger against my lips, "shhh sweetheart, we don't want to wake them up do we?" with that he captures my lips in a passionate kiss, after a little while, he pulls back, hoarsely whispers "I like game night!" planting yet another kiss, in that moment I knew, I Will always love this green eyed man, even if he falls asleep mid family events.

@jackles010378 @winchesterwild78 @angelbabyyy99 @cevansbaby-dove @bookishtheaterlover7 @cutedisneygrl

#any fandom #dean winchester fanfiction #jensenathon #nescveckwriter #dean winchester x reader #jensen ackles x reader #spotify

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ccadaver · 3 months ago

Text

When Jason was younger, he loved being physically close to people. When he hung out with friends, they'd sit close together to play a game of uno, he'd laugh so hard he'd hit the person closest to him, he'd toss an arm over his friend's shoulder.

Then he was taken from the streets and brought to a mansion. Huge open spaces left no need for closeness like the small rooms he was used to. Bruce would let him hang around him, draped over his shoulders as the grimacing man pulled up casefiles on the computer, but never reciprocated. Because Bruce is closed off, just had his son move out and was grieving what once was. Sometimes he'd be in a good mood and ruffle Jason's hair if he'd gotten a good grade in school or finally perfected a self-defense move.

He went to a private school, where rich kids gloated about their wealth and asked Jason what he'd gotten for Christmas. When Jason replied, glowing with pride, they laughed. He'd gotten a first edition Pride and Prejudice, but the kids said it was a girl book and that reading is for nerds. Needless to say, he didn't get along very well.

He'd lean up against Alfred when reading in the library, but the butler frequently had to leave to do his duties, leaving his side cold.

Eventually, he turned to the family dog, Ace, and to Bruce's dismay he got the dog to cuddle up next to him while he slept. Alfred still has a picture of the first time he'd seen it, and keeps it in his wallet. He never said anything, but once remarked about the dog hair on the sheets being impossible to remove.

Then Jason, optimistic and confident, went after Joker. We all know how that ended.

His mother betrayed him, but, loyal as a dog to its master, he shielded her from the blast. He died.

When he came back, the first thing he remembers is the pain of digging through silk and wood and dirt and grass. His fingers aching. In one big blur, there was pain. Men approaching him, beating him to get a reaction. Reflexes learned from the Bat kicked in and he blocked, but the stinging of the hits grew deeper than skin.

Then he awoke, fully, in a stinging pool of green, viscous liquid. His bones ache, his skin nearly bursts, and immediately he is torn out by a clawed hand. Talia Al Ghul, with her long acrylic nails, rips open his skin as she heaves him from the pool.

Pain. So much of it. She strokes his hair, but the remnants of the Lazarus pit still sting, and she's just massaging it deeper into his scalp.

Then they're running, fleeing from her grandfather. The wind is icy and cuts through clothes, more pain. At the edge of a cliff, he stares with wide eyes as she shoves a backpack into his arms and pushes him.

He falls through icy air into shards of even colder water.

The pain fuels him, drives him to seek the shore. It drives him to anger, rage. Why does it hurt? Why, why does everything hurt all the time? His scars, his skin, his heart. He remembers Bruce. Cold, callous, calculating. Alfred, loving but too busy with his duties. His classmates, laughing at him. A heaviness like a brick in his gut weighs him down and drives him.

He learns, he kills, he fights, he hurts.

When Talia sits across from him at a dining table, she drags soft fingers over his callused hands, and... it hurts. There are no nails, only soft pads of her fingers. Still, it sends a signal of pain, of danger, to his brain. He pulls his hand back and swallows a hiss.

Then he returns, the prodigal son of the Bat. Fully clothed, boots to gloves to even a helmet. No one is touching him, never again.

He places a bomb on the Batmobile, and falters as Bruce approaches. The weight in his gut keeps him from igniting the fuse, from pressing the button. And he curses at himself, you had one job. You came back for one fucking reason, and you can't even do that.

He crosses paths with the Bat after antagonising him from the shadows. He's yearning for his father's attention, but through pain and grief all he knows is antagonistic and violent means. Bruce beats him, but what hurts the most is the helmet shattering. His eye is exposed to the cold Gotham air, exposed to the malicious stare of the man before him. He blinks it away and lifts the helmet.

The confrontation goes exactly as you would expect.

After a long time, he is welcomed back. There are more, now. Child soldiers. They're friendly, though wary. He was once the happiest of them, but his new reputation precedes him. Violent, angry.

He's not angry. He's hurt. Always has been.

#this is for that one tiktok commenter that asked me to share this #here you go queen #dc comics #batfam #jason todd #batfamily #dc #dick grayson #bruce wayne #batman

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last-herondale · 12 days ago

Text

You Are Enough Pt. 2

Astarion x fem!Tav

Warnings: Mention of blood, blood drinking

Fluff and angst are the name of this game

AN: I love Astarion. That is all.

Part 1

Enjoy 🤘🏼

Gale blasted a fireball at a shadow creature, missing Karlach’s head by mere inches as she swung down her axe into another cursed corpse. You gave out a cry of alarm as a tall slender shadow sliced its claws at you, grazing the front of your armor as it growled menacingly.

Before you could return an attack, a flash of steel bore through its chest with a terrible shriek. The creature erupted into a mass of shadows, exposing a wild eyes Astarion with his dagger in hand.

“Damn these blasted shadows!” He growled as he took your flank, preparing himself for another fight.

“Tell me about it,” you panted, locking your eyes on a shadow creeping closer to Gale. You readied an arrow of guiding bolt and fired it square in its back. It shrieked and shriveled up slightly before disappearing.

“Retreat to the Inn!” You yelled out to Gale and Karlach, “the shadows can’t reach us there!”

Even now, you could see the faint glow from the last light inn. It was only a mile away. If you could just make it back…

“Look out!” Karlach bellowed out a warning.

You turned to see a large shadow loom in front of you, catching you by surprise. Its dark claws were poised for the attack as you were frozen in fear. Then you felt the wind get knocked out of you as you were knocked to the floor. You felt a familiar weight on top of you as a cold wind seemed to envelope your senses.

Astarion cried out in pain, and he winced as he protected your body from the talons of the monster. You heard Gale say an incantation as a burst of light erupted from his hands.

Karlach was before you now, helping Astarion to his feet as Gale helped you up from the ground.

“Hurry soldier, this way!” Karlach yelled, nearly carrying Astarion towards the safety of the inn. You could hear the screams from the shadow creatures behind you, but you booked it for the armored gates.

As soon as you crossed the threshold into the inn, you felt your body relax as you panted from the exhaustion.

“Is everyone okay?” You asked, looking around to your companions.

Karlach seemed no worse for wear, only slightly banged up from her fight. Gale seemed drained from the battle, his brow sweaty and clothes rumpled. It was Astarion now, who looked hunched over in pain.

“Astarion!” You said, running up to him to examine his injuries. “Oh, your back!”

“It’s nothing,” Astarion assured, “Just a scratch is all. It’ll heal up on its own.”

He straightened up his stance, rolling his shoulders nonchalantly as if it was just a mere discomfort. “Now, I think I may see what wine Jahiera has to offer. I think I’ve earned myself a bottle or two.”

He sauntered off towards the inn, seemingly fine and relaxed, however you noticed a slight hitch in his step as he walked. You narrowed your eyes.

It had been a week since that night in the woods. The night he relinquished you from your obligation to satiate his hunger. He no longer fed from you. It was his choice and you honored it. You didn’t expect to feel so… mournful over this decision.

If he had been feeding from someone else in the party, you couldn’t pinpoint who. You looked for any signs of newly formed connection between Astarion and any of your companions, but found none that would be willing to share their blood with a vampire. The thought of him feeding with someone else made your chest ache in an odd way.

Astarion seemed himself enough, until three days ago when you and your party entered the shadow cursed lands. You thought maybe the loss of the sun had changed his moods, but now you had a new theory. And you planned on testing it.

After dinner, you watched Astarion attend to his bottle of wine as he hurried back to his quarters. He still held a limp in his step as he walked up the stairs. You followed behind him, knocking on the door a few moments after he closed them.

“I have no need of company,” he said flatly.

“I wasn’t asking,” you said smugly on the other end of the door. For a moment you thought you could hear a faint laugh.

The door opened slightly, his tousled white hair curled around his cheekbones, making him look like a god in the moonlight. There was a playful grin on his lips as his eyes raked over you. You noted faint dark circles under his eyes.

“Hello darling,” he mused, “I’m afraid I was just about to turn in—“

“Before a nightcap?” You asked playfully, holding up two glasses in your hands. “After that battle I think we deserve a toast.” You pushed yourself into his room, setting the glasses on a table as you sat down in a chair to pour the wine.

Astarion sighed and closed the door, joining you at the table. You noticed he winced as he sat down, being careful not to touch his back to the chair. You handed him his glass, your eyes watching him cautiously. He met your gaze, but he seemed to exhausted to notice your curious stare.

You raised your glass. “To your health, Astarion,” you said with a soft smile. Astarion looked pleasantly surprised at your toast. He smiled, clinking his glass to yours.

“And to yours, my sweet.”

The two of you took a drink. You stopped after a sip, but Astarion down the glass, savoring every bit of the drink. His eyes flickered to you a moment, a flash of emotion crossed his face before he quickly returned his eyes to his glass.

Your chest ached when you looked at him. He was keeping something from you, keeping something vital from himself.

“Astarion,” you said ever so tenderly.

He looked up at you again, his curiosity peaked with your emotional call of his name. There was a small smile on his lips as he waited for you to continue.

“When is the last time you fed?”

His smile fell away. “Just yesterday.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Really?”

Astarion frowned. “Yes, really. I drank more than enough. That’s why I was so daring on the battle field today. Couldn’t you tell?”

He was trying to play up the show, but you knew him well enough now to know when he was lying. He stood up from the table, put his back to you to save face but the sight of him made you suck in a breath.

“Astarion!” You gasped. You were up from your chair and to him in the next moment. Blood was seeping through his white shirt in three harsh lines. He wasn’t healing as he should be, and you knew this to be from one thing.

“It’s fine, darling. Just a scratch.”

You ran your hands gently over his shoulders, trying not to touch his wounds.

“Remove your shirt,” you demanded, lifting the fabric off of his shoulders.

“Darling I’m fine,” he complained, but he didn’t shrug you away as you removed his shirt from his skin. The three jagged marks on his pale skin stood out horridly to your eye. You winced at the sight of them, your fingertips brushing the old scars on his back.

“Oh Astarion, you’re starving yourself,” you whispered, “Why?”

He turned to face you slowly, his bare chest rising and falling slowly. His eyes raked over your face, and he looked pained.

“I—“ it wasn’t often that Astarion was at a loss for words. You placed a gentle hand on his chest, your eyes searching his. It had been a while since you were this close to him, and you reveled in the smell of him.

“Talk to me,” you begged, “please… I don’t understand.”

Astarion sighed, letting his hand graze your face, his fingertips brushing your cheek. Your eyes fluttered a moment as his breath hit your face.

“I don’t want you to feel obligated to me anymore…” he started. You opened your mouth to speak but he put a finger to your lips. “At first I thought you were an easy target. Someone I could lure into an alliance and use to my survival. I thought it was working fine. You were willing enough to let me feed from you, willing enough to let me close to you— but when I tried to seduce you at the Tiefling party, you refused me.”

You remembered that night well. A proposition for some late night fun. And while you were feeling the high of the party and a few glasses of mead, you were shocked with yourself when you denied Astarion’s invitation to bed. It wasn’t because you weren’t attracted to him, quite the opposite was true in fact. However, you could sense some hesitation from him that night. As if he had done this dance before, as if it was a second nature to him.

You had smiled, kissed his cheek and said, “Not tonight.”

He had seemed almost… pleased with the result.

“You are not at all what I expected,” he murmured, caressing your face, “An unexpected complication in my plan. I never intended… to feel the way I do now… to care about someone’s wellbeing other than my own. And I find that I care about yours very much.”

His words made your heart flutter. You felt tears well up in your eyes and he quickly wiped them away. “I don’t want to take from you anymore. You’re too important to me…” he whispered as if it was painful to admit.

“You’re important to me too,” you replied, “I am not doing this out of obligation, Astarion… I’m doing this out of lo—“

“Don’t say it—“ he begged, “please. I don’t know if I can say it back… I don’t know how to feel what I’m feeling for you.”

His breathing was ragged as his eyes searched yours. You understood then, that saying what you knew to be true was not what he needed. He was trapped in a world where words and declarations were thrown around, painted pretty lies. You needed to show him.

Your hand drifted down his chest, your eyes still locked with his. You swiped the dagger from his belt before he could realize what you were doing. With a quick motion of the dagger, you cut into the soft part of your wrist. His eyes immediately went to your wrist in a throw of wild hunger. He bared his fangs as his hand gripped your wrist.

He growled at you, his face a mixture of emotions. “Darling— no…” he said in an agonizing tone. “I can’t…”

“Drink,” you murmured, feeling the slight sting from the cut, “Please. What beats inside of me— beats for you.”

His lips were to your skin the next moment. You felt the familiar prick of his teeth and the instant cooling sensation made you sigh. He drank deeply, making soft noises as the two of you knelt on the floor wrapped up in each other. You stroked his hair gently as he fed, feeling the slight euphoria from his mouth.

“You could never hurt me,” you whispered.

Astarion continued to drink, to the point where your vision was seeing stars. You had no fear. You believed he would stop when he needed to. You trusted him with your life. With all of your heart. You lay your head on his shoulder as the world enveloped into darkness.

#fem reader #fan fic author #angst #fic writing #fanfic writing #baldur's gate 3 #my writing #vampires #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion #astarionisbae #fluff #bg3 tav #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #vampire aesthetic

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