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palbabor-writes · 4 years

Note

Hellooo queen I hope you had/will have a great day. This is actually my first time requesting something so I’m very sorry if I do something wrong 🥺🥺... can you maybe write some fluff (OR NSFW I DONT MIND... just love him way too much damn) stuff for dabi?? I don't know if you only take requests with exact instructions or if this request is enough... if you need something more precise i will try to come up with something! Thank you very much!!

Hello, love! You did it perfectly & thank you so much for asking! I can be a bit of a lurker on things, so I totally get how much courage it takes to do one of these.

You did amazing & I love, love this question. I love it so much that I went ahead and took an old outline of mine & made it into a full blown fic for you!

Now, in honor of all the craziness swirling around our favorite flame user, Imma post it a little earlier then I’d planned! So, thank you for the ask & I hope to talk to you again ( ＾◡＾)っ ♡

Pairing: Dabi x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 7496

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW 18+ only, mentions of blood and gore, heat play, dick piercings, adult language and freaking Dabi. That alone should warn you.

Thermós θερμός ther·mos adjective m (feminine θερμή, neuter θερμόν); warm, hot, boiling, glowing

It’s sweltering; the fervor of summer sticky, humid, and oppressive. Japan is in the throes of August, and this heatwave is not letting up. Even at night, it’s impossible for Dabi to get comfortable. He’s been lying, half naked, draped across his narrow twin mattress for the last few hours, sweating.

His quirk isn’t helping matters.

He’s been trying to recruit new members. Every day, he sets out, pounding the pavement, sifting through the bits and pieces of trash that he runs into. It’s a pity. If those scrubs weren’t so fucking pathetic, he might not be in this predicament. But they are, and now he’s having to suffer the consequences of his temper.

His phone gleams on his dilapidated side table, a text message chiming across the screen as it flashes a speck of brightness into the darkened room. Groaning, he leans over and snatches it up, his hands slick as he clutches the encased plastic.

It’s Toga.

As a rule, he tries to avoid her. He hates her chatter. It’s always some unending nonsense about those UA kids, about Stain, or about fucking blood. It’s always blood with her. Give her five minutes, and she’ll work it into her conversation somehow, even if it’s just blurting it out, a blush staining her cheeks.

Fucking freak.

[ Blondie: 12:34 am ]

- found smth 4 u. (Y/N) has a place. Keeps it @ like 60 degrees… lol

Well, disgusting as Toga is, she has her uses; he thinks as he reads her text.

He’d asked her, a few days before, if she knew a place where he could crash. Somewhere that had some goddamn air conditioning. The hideout’s unit is on the fritz again, not that it had ever worked all that well.

Hmm, well this is something, at least.

Dabi’s isn’t sure what to think about Toga’s little ‘find’. You were a newer recruit, someone that Compress had brought in.

He hadn’t paid much attention to you. You didn’t stay at the base and were only around if there was a specific mission, or a task, that Shigaraki set for you. He isn’t even sure what your quirk is. You seemed easy-going, neutral, but he doubted you’d extend that easy-going demeanor to him camping out at your place for the A/C.

Chucking his phone back on the side table, Dabi flops to his side and tries to drift off, hoping his exhaustion will let him ignore the suffocating heat he’s drowning in.

Fuck.

He’d done it again. It was hard to resist the urge when these people spouted such vague fucking bullshit at him. No one, not fucking one of them, could live up to his cause. And if they couldn’t meet that standard? Well, they were better off as ash, melting into blackened pools as the asphalt greedily soaked their blood into its cracked depths.

There is a heat advisory today.

He’d heard the news as he scarfed down a quick breakfast at the hideout’s bar. He wouldn’t be out for that long, he reasoned. Besides, maybe today he’d find someone good.

Wishful thinking on his part.

His skin feels oppressive and his staples and piercings are scalding, the metal hissing and steaming as he tries to dampen his quirk. It’s harder to regulate his temperature on hot days. He shouldn’t be out here, he thinks, snarling as he pats out a few rogue flames that catch on his dark jacket. Even lifting his arm to perform that simple task makes him grunt, hissing out a mantra of curses.

Shit, fuck, goddamn it fucking all.

He looks bitterly up at the sun and debates his next move.

He could retreat to the bar, but that doesn’t solve his problem. No, the viscous heat that radiated along those upper floors would just make his skin feel worse. Hell, it might even result in more mottling, his burns stretching farther along his arms and chest. He’s not going back to the bar.

Where the fuck even is he?

He peers down the alley toward the street. It’s not too busy; just after noon, so most of the foot traffic from the morning has died down. He yanks his hood up, ignoring the ache of his legs as he stalks toward the street corner.

Carefully, he pokes out, his eyes tracing over the crosswalk, looking for the street signs. Ah. He’s close to that address, your address, that Toga sent him.

Slipping his hands into his pockets, he saunters along the pavement, careful to keep his head down.

You were out of town.

He’d picked up that tidbit from Compress this morning. The masked man had been lamenting that you might be away for a few days, possibly weeks. Something about being on a fact finding task for that shadowy voice that talked with Shigaraki from his tv.

He didn’t care, still doesn’t. All he knows is that you supposedly keep your place cold, and that’s all the encouragement he needs.

You’ve got a nice apartment.

It’s decorated in pleasing whites, yellows, reds and greens, with clean lines and modern touches. It’s kinda like you, he considers as he shrugs his coat off and breathes in that amazing waft of cold A/C. You’ve been useful to have in the League; efficient and no nonsense about the missions you're given and you can fit in with the outside world. You’d give even Toga a run for her money when it comes to espionage, he’s heard others say about you.

Dabi tosses a distasteful glare at your narrow couch and pads toward your bedroom, shouldering the door open and stepping into the dark sanctuary.

Your bed looks nice. It’s a good size too.

Lifting his boots from his feet and stripping down to his boxers, he presses into your clean sheets; shivering as the chilly air hits his overheated skin, cooling and dampening that oppressive sense of heat. He’s out in seconds, his body relaxing, slackening as he falls into the void of his dreams.

Yeah, now that he’s had this, there’s no way he’s staying at that hideout of the League’s unless he has to.

You’re gone for the better part of a week.

He’s started asking Compress about you. At first, the older man had given him an impassive stare. Since when did Dabi even know your name?

He’s asking because he needs to talk with you about… uh… supplies?

This, apparently, is the correct thing to say, because Compress nods his head sagely and elaborates on your timetable. You’re collecting things for Kurogiri and you’ll be gone for another few days.

Good, Dabi thinks, slinking into your apartment again, lowering the window behind him. He’s careful to leave things as he found them, his entryway into your place included. You don’t need to know about this.

What the fuck would he even say to you?

Hey, uh, it’s fucking hot at the hideout, and since you’ve got a working A/C unit and like 3 fans, he’s been sleeping over at yours. No big deal, right?

Even after you return, he keeps sneaking in.

He’s gotten your schedule memorized, and he’s heedful of the hours you keep. You’re a little more regular than the others in the League. You actually sleep at night; unlike the rest. The others are often out at God knows what hour, combing for recruits and leads, but not you.

So, Dabi shifts into full night owl mode. He crashes at your place in the midmorning, after you leave for the day, trying to ignore the perfume that comes from your sheets.

You’ve got a nice smell.

It’s oddly comforting, and he hates when he accidentally burrows into your pillows; nostrils flared, inhaling that aroma that’s all you. While he’s never talked with you before this, he goes out of his way to ignore you now.

What he’s doing is fucking weird, and lines are blurring. The other week he’d bumped into you coming out of the bar and he’d almost snatched you to him.

You must have just showered, because that fucking scent was radiating off your skin. It’s nothing too, eh, feminine? No, it’s more like… oranges and sandalwood. It’s a heady blend of rich balsamic and citrus, and he can’t get it out of his head.

August has faded into September, and he’s still sleeping over at yours.

He can’t help it. It’s not his fault your bed is so downy and, fuck, cool. It’s like the sheets don’t absorb his warmth. No, they’re always cold and they feel so fucking good against his staples and burned skin.

It’s midmorning, closer to noon, and he’s dozing, his eyes heavy and drooping. He’s exhausted, so bone tired, that he doesn’t hear your door opening. No, he doesn’t even notice you until he hears your voice.

“Um, would you like to tell me why you’re in my bed?”

He’s on his feet in a flash, a slow flicking of blue flames tracing along his fingers. You’re framed in your doorway, eyes wide, stepping away from his aggressive stance.

“Woah, woah,” you begin, lifting your hands in supplication. “Let’s just… take a minute and talk. I’m not-”

“You’re not supposed to be here,” he snaps, his cerulean eyes narrowing, but he dampens his fire, a long curling of smoke framing his face.

“Uh, I think you got that backward there, bud. You’re not supposed to be here, I live here,” you scoff, one hand propping on your hip, head tilted exaggeratedly.

Dabi is about to spit something else out when you stride into your bedroom, tugging your jacket off and sauntering over to a tall dresser. He snaps his mouth closed and watches you. He’s not sure how he’s going to talk his way out of this, and he’s grateful for the reprieve. But, he knows an onslaught of anger or, fuck, preserve him, a lecture is incoming. Worst case, he thinks, observing you from his peripheral as you tug out a long shirt and some shorts, you’ll just kick him out and that will be that.

You glance at him again, your eyes lingering over his exposed chest and legs, and he can’t help the scowl that breaks over his face. He’s not embarrassed, he’s just, well, he’s not sure how to classify that stare. Most people recoil or toss him a glance of pity, their brows wrinkled with worry and distaste. But you? You arched an eyebrow and smiled.

Fucking weirdo.

Pausing in your doorway, you bite your lip into your mouth and carefully speak your next statement, voice smooth. “Look, while I’d rather you, oh, I don’t know, asked me about staying here. I’m not in the mood to argue with you, and I’ve got a long journey ahead of me tonight.” You take a deep inhale and toss him another smile.

“Just… just lay back down and get some rest. I promise I won’t molest you,” you tease, and he snaps his head up at that, his chin jutting in agitation.

You laugh at his sour face and he feels wrong-footed; lost. What the fuck? Who says shit like that? Who is in their right mind is just, oh, no worries man, promise I won’t grab your dick?

What’s wrong with you?

“I’m going to change and then I’m going to go to sleep. You can go, or you can stay, I really don’t care. All I know is that I’m not going to sleep on the couch when I’m in my apartment.” You retort, that grin still lifting your lips as you step away, the wall shielding you from his view.

Dabi remains where he is; standing in your bedroom, clad in his boxers, his hands clenched into fists by his side. Somehow this is worse than you throwing him out.

You return a few minutes later and he can’t get a good look at you. You slink past him and are under your covers in an instant. Not that he’s trying to give you a once over, he snarls to himself, shaking his inky head.

You nestle into the comforter and turn to your side, leaving him plenty of room on the opposite end of the bed. He blinks at you, a deep welling of uncertainty nestling in his stomach.

You’re quiet for a long moment, your eyes closing and shoulders relaxing, acting like there’s not a wanted, deadly villain in your bedroom, paces from your side. Then, you twist, giving him a quick scan, your eyes lingering over his.

“Either lay down or get out, Dabi. I’m not going to be able to sleep with you glaring at me like that. You look like some kinda ghost.”

Your declaration provokes a huffing, agitated reaction out of him. If there’s one thing Dabi hates, it’s being told what to do.

He slings himself beside you, splaying out, his body laying on top of the sheets. You chuckle, your head peeking at him over your shoulder. He ignores you and tries to close his eyes.

It feels strange, resting next to you like this. It’s… intimate, and he’s not sure if he hates or likes the sensation. He chances a glance at you, but you’ve already turned back to your side, your shoulders rising and lowering rhythmically. He shakes his head at your blasé reaction. How can you just, fuck, sleep?

He can’t get comfortable and his skin feels heavy again. It’s not heat this time. No, now something else is making everything feel too close, too warm.

He dampens his thoughts, mind frantically focusing on anything but you. As the sun slips behind the buildings across the street, his eyes lower and he fitfully sleeps, your rich smell filling his senses.

He’d left you in the night; tucking his clothes back on and easing out of your window.

True to your word, you’d relegated yourself to your side of the bed, hardly tossing or turning as you slept. As he paced back to the hideout, he wasn’t sure what he’d gotten himself into. He just hoped you’d keep your mouth shut. He didn’t want the others knowing about this, it felt, well it’s not like him. Abrasive- fucking spewing anger and vitriol? Yeah, that was him. But this? This was too soft, too gentle. He hated it.

But that’s the problem with hate. It’s terribly close to that other emotion. They’re sisters, really. Usually love and hate exist on two sides, but they’re still the same coin, no matter how you toss them.

You don’t act any differently after that night.

You keep coming to the hideout, giving him a vague smile and greeting before continuing your day. He’s acting differently, though. He can’t help but watch you, suddenly fascinated with how you move. He tries his best to shake himself from his musings, but sometimes he can’t help it.

If anything, he grumbles to himself, watching you chatter with Toga, you’re subtly going out of your way to place yourself in front of him. You were never around this much before. Well, maybe you were. He didn’t pay you any mind back then, but now? Now he can’t get enough of you.

He reacts when you laugh, or talk, his head turning, like a sunflower, toward the light you give off. Ugh. His only hopeful reprieve from this, from you, is the changing seasons. The days are getting shorter and that heatwave is finally, finally breaking.

It’s his one comfort, his saving grace.

Yeah, he should have fucking never tossed that wish into the universe.

No, another heatwave passes over the island and it’s the worst one yet. The daily temperatures have been hitting the low 100s and the nights aren’t much better. To make matters worse, the A/C at the hideout has given up the ghost and won’t turn on at all now.

Still, Dabi’s prepared. He’d bought a secondhand electric fan a few weeks ago, and he’s grateful for the tiny slice of paradise that it grants him. It’s not as nice as your apartment, or your bed, but it will do.

He’s laying across his mattress, sweat trickling down his back and shoulders, trying to ignore that ache in his burned skin. The fan is blowing across him and he’s about to crank it up a notch when it gives out an ominous sputter.

Dabi sits up, his eyes flashing. No, no, no, no. There’s no fucking way.

The fan’s blades are slowing, that sweet, cool air dampening, drifting into the low-lying humidity that surrounds him. He yanks the plug from the wall, his staples stinging as he stands. He stomps over to the outlet and plugs the fan back in, turning on his haunches to see if the blades will start that familiar whirl.

There’s fuck all happening.

Cursing, he kicks the shitty thing over and grabs his jacket, storming down the stairs and into the night.

You’re sleeping when he slinks under your window sill, sliding the glass shut and kicking his heavy boots to the floor. It’s that sound that wakes you, and you lift yourself up, your sheets falling from your chest, revealing a bare shoulder and low cut shirt to him. Unabashed by your appearance, you wipe a palm over your eyes, rubbing the sleep away and croaking out a greeting.

“When I said you could sleep over here, I didn’t mean you could barge in at all hours. And through my window? So, that’s why the hinge looks like that.”

Dabi considers you for a moment, his blue eyes gleaming in the moonlight. You tilt your head at him and suck your teeth.

“A, oh, I don’t know, sorry, would be nice?” you scold, that alluring smile lifting your lips. He follows the line of your mouth, his thoughts hazing over, focusing on some other, darker, daydream.

“Hello?” you call, waving your hand beside your face. “Earth to Dabi. What do you want?”

That question slips him out of his stupor and he lifts his eyes back to yours. “The A/C is out. Bought a fan a few weeks ago, but the fucking thing broke and I can’t… it’s hard to regulate my body temperature in this fucking heat. You keep this place like an icebox, so I started crashing here. Wasn’t planning on coming back, but after tonight-”

“Ok, ok,” you laugh, already scooting over and flinging the covers back. “Seeing as you didn’t try any funny business last time, I guess I’ll let it slide. Just, not to be rude, but shut up and let me sleep. I’ve gotta long day tomorrow and as enthralling as this conversation is…”

“Whatever,” Dabi mutters, slinging his damp shirt over his head and pacing over to the side of your bed. You blink up at him and shake your head, that tiny grin lingering. He presses into your familiar sheets, eyes already slipping closed as the fragrance of you pulls at him.

It’s early when he wakes, shuddering out of a nightmare, red flames and crying voices fading into the back of his mind.

Wincing, he raises a hand to his eyes and pulls at his face, relieved that it’s still cool air that meets him. As he rolls to his side, he feels something trace over his unscarred chest. The sensation makes him freeze, his eyes snapping open again, the cerulean searching, whisking over the dim figure beside him.

You’re still sleeping, but you’ve shifted, your body curled, facing him, and one of your hands is reaching toward him. Shit, he thinks, heart pounding in his ears. You’re so close.

He’s never been this close to you.

Your mouth is parted, delicate lips plush and soft in the early morning gloom. He tries to shift away, but your brow creases when he does, so he stills his movements, gritting his teeth and trying to ignore that flush that is building across his nose.

This is stupid. It’s just you. It’s not like the two of you have even done anything. Fuck, you barely talk with one another.

He burrows his head into his pillow and the shift of his body urges you closer to him, your hand opening and pressing to his skin. A sigh slips from your mouth as your fingers splay out, tapping against his warmth, and he nearly startles off the bed.

He looks down at your hand, aghast. He wants to move it off of him; can’t stand that you’re touching him, he tells himself, that you’re this close to him. But he can’t bring himself to move. Your hand is so delicate, so…

Unconscious, you turn from him, your fingers lifting on their own, curling back to you. Dabi almost moans as you slip from him, clamping down on the sudden, primal desire that races through him. He wants to grab you; to drag you back to him.

The hell? What the fuck is wrong with him?

Sucking his teeth, he turns over, facing away from the confusing neediness that’s lapping at his subconscious. He fluffs his pillow aggressively, trying to drown out all the raw emotions that are racing through his mind.

Forget it. Sleep.

When he wakes again, you’re gone.

The sheets where you slept are cold under his fingertips and he sits up, his arms resting on his knees. This whole situation is so fucking weird.

He lets himself ease into consciousness before standing and stretching out the leftover kinks in his muscles; stooping to grab his discarded shirt, pulling the fabric over his head and shaking his dark head against the sunlight. Just as he’s slipping his coat on, he notices the note that’s sitting on one of your bedroom chairs. It’s got his name on it, so he snatches it up, flipping open the folded paper.

“There’s some leftover pizza in the fridge, I won’t have time to eat it. Help yourself. There’s also a spare key on the coffee table. Take it and stop jimmying my window open.”

Scoffing, he crumples the paper up, tossing it over his shoulder as he paces into your kitchen.

It’s a fucking thing now.

He’s rarely at the hideout. Why bother? You don’t seem to care if he sleeps over. Hell, you make space for him. There’s gotta be something else to it; there has to be. What kinda idiot is so fucking accommodating? You act like you’re a fucking hostel or something. Well, a hostel where there’s only one bed.

You even bought another fan. You told him you don’t like to keep the overhead one on in the cooler weather, so he can use this one for his side of the bed.

Yeah, he’s got a goddamn side of the bed. It’s fucking insane.

The other members of the League either haven’t noticed what’s going on between the two of you, or they don’t care. It’s not like either of you talk about your sleeping habits. Fuck, you still never interact with him at the hideout, content to maintain that level of professionalism.

He’s not sure why it bothers him.

One night, the temperature drops into the low 40s and he’s stretched out on your blankets, enjoying the first real cold snap of the fall, when he sees you shivering. It’s not very noticeable, what with the way you’re turned away and bundled, but it makes him tilt his head toward you, watching.

Another pass of his fan has you repeating the quake and, without thinking, he pulls you closer, one long arm wrapping around your shoulder and tugging. Startled, you fight his hold, but he calms your movements with a squeeze, grumbling about your stoic reluctance.

What’s the big deal? It’s not like you haven’t brushed up against him before. Calm down.

You quiet after that and slowly, tentatively, you lean against his bare chest, your cheek cool against his heated skin. He tucks his chin over your head and tries to keep his breathing even. He doesn’t want you to hear, fuck, feel his heartbeat; it’s slamming its way out of his throat and he gulps when your fingers pull him closer.

“How are you so warm?” you ask, your breath floating across his pectorals.

“It’s my stupid quirk,” Dabi mutters, dipping his head down to his pillow, shifting you with him. You nod against his lean muscles and your fingertips trace cool designs into his skin, lingering over his burnt patches and staples. He sighs, unable to resist the low shiver that creeps up his spine.

This is nice; too fucking nice.

He can’t do without your touch now.

Remember that thing about love and hate being sisters? Well, that hate is simmering into something else for Dabi. It’s not love, he doesn’t know you well enough, but it’s certainly not hate anymore.

He likes touching you. You’re smooth against his jagged skin and he enjoys the contrast. He’s slow when he pulls you against him, careful to not snag you against his staples, but you seem to like his heat. You’ve even started wearing less to bed, slipping out of that baggy shirt and into a thin tank top; he’s pleased that he has more of you to caress.

It’s getting harder to keep you out of his head. He can smell your perfume, even if he hasn’t seen you for days, and each time he does see you, even at the hideout, his fingers itch to press against you.

You’d laughed at his sudden, intense, interest. The hell Dabi, are you touch starved or something? You’d teased. What’s up with you? I was worried about you burning down my apartment, not you turning into some kind of cuddle fiend.

He doesn’t care what you say. He knows it’s fucking stupid, fucking dumb, that he’s this desperate. It just feels good. And there’s not much about him that feels good these days, so he’ll take what he can get. Fuck you very much.

There’s a meeting. It’s one of the ones where Shigaraki demands that everyone make their way to the bar.

Boss man has been tense lately, thrumming with some dark energy, so the room is quiet as Kurogiri elaborates on the smaller details of the mission. Your part is minimal, limited to reconnaissance with Toga. It’s boring shit, and Dabi is only half listening to any of it.

Besides, there’s something else that’s snagging his attention.

Dabi is sitting on the couch, his eyes lingering on you. You’re wearing one of his favorite outfits and the color looks good on you. It brings out your eyes. You’re questioning Spinner and Toga about the finer points of your team up. He can’t hear you from here, but that doesn’t matter, he’s still in the best spot to spy you leaning forward, perfect ass on full display.

“She’s gotten better, more adept at working undercover,” Compress’ voice shakes Dabi from his thoughts and he turns to him, a bland frown on his face.

“Who?”

“Please, you know who I’m talking about. You can’t stop looking at her.”

He chortles, his laugh a sharp bark. “You’re fucking joking. Her? Fuck, no. I’m gonna head out, not like the boss has anything for me anyway,” Dabi stands, slipping his hands into his trench coat and pacing to the heavy door, shouldering his way into the night.

He leans against the brick wall, lighting up a cigarette and sighing a thin line of smoke into the chilled air. Fuck, they’re noticing what’s going on. Wait. What is going on? It’s not like the two of you are fucking. Yet, a small voice echoes in the back of his mind, and he smirks at that thought.

Yeah, maybe it’s time to speed things up.

You step out a few minutes later, your eyes searching for him. He flicks his cigarette onto the pavement and wraps his fingers in your coat, tugging you to him. You don’t fight him; don’t make a sound as he pins you against the brick, his body hot against your front.

The two of you watch the other, his cerulean eyes roving over your face. Then he’s lifting your chin, his lips sliding across yours. It’s a strange kiss. Usually, he’s too busy trying to get off to focus on his partner. He rarely kisses anyone, even if he’s hooking up. But this kiss?

Like everything else about you, it’s fucking nice.

You move with him, your body surging from the brick, breasts flattening against his chest, fingers cupping behind his ears; nipping and sucking at him, your teeth digging into his burned lower lip and pulling. You’re encouraging him to touch you next, rubbing yourself on him until his hands fall to your hips. He’s already half hard, and that warm juncture of your thighs isn’t helping matters.

To his shock, he’s having trouble keeping up.

You’re already pulling from him when he dips his tongue into your mouth. He gasps at the emptiness, that chilling vacancy that your touch leaves him panting into. Before he can bemoan your absence, you’re kissing at his neck, lifting on your tiptoes to reach the staples on the side of his face. You lick at him, your wet tongue dragging over his burns. He trembles under your hands and you smile, your laugh bright.

Snarling, Dabi yanks your head back and you meet his hazy gaze, biting your lip; pantomiming a wonton innocence. Immediately, he’s pushing you into the brick, his hands cupping and lingering until you’re whining for him. That’s fucking better, he thinks, his teeth worrying against your pulse.

Just when he’s got you where he wants you, your hand snakes between the two of you, pressing against the bulge of his dick. Dabi can’t help his sharp intake of air, and his head falls to your shoulder as he ruts into your palm. You keep kissing at the side of his face, your lips roving over his ear as you tug at his covered dick. You’re saying something, but he can’t focus when you’re doing that.

“Dabi,” you try again, teeth ensnaring his destroyed earlobe, sucking at the burnt skin. “They’re about to come out.”

He knocks your hand away from his straining, throbbing length and leans away from you. Fuck, you look good.

Your lips are swollen, and your eyes are dazzling. He can’t pull himself away. You smile at his dazed expression and lift a hand to his cheek, your palm cool against his overheated skin.

The door shudders open and the two of you spring apart. A few minutes later Toga is grabbing at your arm and pulling you down the street, away from him.

He’s waiting outside your apartment, another cigarette smoldering to ash under his lips. But he can’t bring himself to go in.

Not without you.

Toga’s kept you busy. It’s been over an hour since that kiss in the alleyway. He’s cooled off since then, but that simmering heat that you elicited from him? That hasn’t dimmed. He’s still half hard against his dark pants and he can’t bring himself to care. Besides, Dabi has a very specific idea about how he’s going to have you lessen that pressure for him.

He’s just about to light another cigarette when he sees you.

You walk into your building, and he starts the long climb up the fire escape. His heart is pounding again. He hasn’t wanted something this badly in ages. He’s been so fucking focused on his cause, on making his plans a reality; he just hasn’t had the time.

But now? Fuck, he wants there to be more hours in the day. He’s hoping the two of you can pick up where you left off. Yeah, he tells himself, scaling the last few steps, it’s just about the sex.

That sounds better than saying what he really wants.

You’re already slipping your oversized sleep shirt over your head when he lifts your window. You pause, watching him curl his way into your space. Once he pulls his legs inside he turns to you, his eyes dark, unfathomable, the blue so deep that you feel you’re drowning in it.

He doesn’t shut the window. Instead, he yanks his clothes off, clattering them against your floor. You smile and a gentle laugh makes its way to him.

“What did I say about coming in through the window?” you chuckle, already lifting your arms for him.

He’s against you in a single breath, his warmth seeping its way into your chilled skin. His lips are rough, pressing and lifting, biting and nipping. He’s working you toward your bed and once your knees hit the edge of your mattress, he’s shoving you down.

You flop against the cold blankets, your legs already spreading for his hips. He’s hot, scaldingly hot, against your hands. Your fingers dip into his hair and you pull him back, earning a low growl and his flashing glare, displeasure written all over his face.

“Slow down,” you scold, your legs wrapping around his hips, grinding against the hardness you find.

“The fuck? You goddamn tease. Fucking saying that, then rubbing your wet pussy all over my dick,” Dabi snarls, snatching your wrists and pinning your hands beside your head.

“How do you know it’s wet?” you ask, batting your eyes at his steeled jaw.

“It fucking better be,” he groans, his teeth sinking into your neck and pressing, hard.

You gasp at the stimulation and arch for him, testing his hold on your wrists. Grunting, he licks a wet line to your pulse, his hands tightening over yours. “Mmm, why don’t you find out?” you ask, leaning into his lips, loving the contrast of his destroyed and perfect skin.

He shifts his grip on you, yanking your arms up, pinning your hands above your head. He lifts one of his own hands away once he’s satisfied he’s got a good hold on you. His warm fingers trace down your side, pausing when he gets to the lacy band of your panties. Teasingly, he pulls fabric away from your skin, and lets it snap against your hip. Dabi tips his nose into the curve of your neck and shoulder, taking a deep drag against you.

You buck your hips, squirming under his weight. “You get lost? My pussy is a little further down.”

He chuckles darkly, his breath making you shiver. You’re just about to wriggle from him when one long finger eases past your panties and presses into your sopping heat. “Oh,” you gasp, your eyes rolling back. It feels like he’s heated his fingertip, and the skin that’s stroking and thrusting into you is warm, too warm.

Dabi leans away from your neck, bracing himself above you with his knees, pulling himself into a hunched position. He’s smirking at your awed expression and his teeth glow in the darkness.

“Like I said doll, you’re already so fucking wet for me. You want more?”

You nod and buck your hips, digging that finger deeper. He groans at your eagerness and you can feel him warming the next digit up, the tip burning against the soft flesh of your inner thighs.

Once it’s in, he starts to v the two, dragging them along your rippling walls, spreading you open, easing you into his hand. Your slick is sliding down your legs and seeping into the sheets. Still, Dabi keeps on, maintaining that steady stretch. It starts to sting and you shift away, but he releases your wrists, free hand moves to your hip, stilling you.

You glance up at him, curious. His eyes are hooded, the blue a velvety sapphire. He looks like he’s holding himself back from something. Almost like… like he’s handling you with more care than he’s ever given anything. It’s a strange thought, but the idea of it makes you reach for him, your fingers running down his discolored skin, lingering over the staples and piercings.

“I’ve gotta stretch you out,” he informs you, his eyes closing behind his trembling eyelids, savoring your gentle caress.

“Hmm, you that big?” you joke, fully expecting him to react, to silence you with a kiss or another well-timed thrust of his fingers. But he surprises you. He opens his eyes and fixes you with a rough stare, his digits continuing that aching pull. You’re throbbing around him, your arousal easing his passage, his extensions.

“I don’t want to… hurt-” he stops, his eyes narrowing. With an inaudible sigh, he slides down your body, only halting once he’s face to face with your sleek cunt. His breath heaves against you and you wrap a leg over his back, holding him close.

Dabi laves his tongue over you, latching onto your pulpy clit and giving it a soft suck. Your hands sink into his hair, curling into the spiky tendrils, urging him to give you more.

He rewards your needy moans with another lick and he flicks his eyes up to yours, watching you over your shaking curves.

“I’m going to add another finger,” he tells you, preparing you for another deep stretch. When he enters you almost pull from him, your hips bowing away at the pricking of pain. Sensing your distress, he keeps his lips around your pulsing clit, distracting you with kisses and low blows of air.

Finally, you can feel yourself loosening. Your feet brace against your bed and you use the leverage to maneuver him deeper. You feel, you feel so…

Dabi, realizing that your cunt is quivering around his intruding digits, shifts closer, his piercings rubbing against your thighs. He’s sloppy now, less controlled. His tongue is circling your clit with furious laps and he lets a canine trace the bud. His fingers are still spreading and he’s found that spongy spot now. He taps against it, teasing you, making you clench and gasp around him.

Just when you think you can’t take it anymore, when it seems like all the sensations are too, too, much; it snaps. The coiling in your core pulls free and you’re moaning, so loudly you’re worried your neighbors will hear. His name is falling from your lips at a rapid rate and you can feel his smirk as he lifts his fingers from your cunt.

Dabi leans away and you shake at the loss of him. He was so warm, so hot against your damp skin and you miss it. He watches you, tucking his fingers into his mouth, lapping the final bits of your release from him.

“Take off your clothes,” he demands when he’s finished, his hands already dropping to his tented boxers, slipping the elastic down his trim waist.

You shift to obey, your hands yanking your shirt, bra and soaked panties off of you. You splay under him, indolently admiring the sight that is revealed to you. Oh, you think, unable to contain your small gasp, he is big.

His cock is long, thick, and curved, and it’s dripping with pre-cum. There’s a crossed set of piercings at the tip of his length and you watch, mesmerized, as a shimmering strand of his arousal catches on the shiny silver, leeching down the smooth length of him. He’s bigger than anything you’ve ever taken, and that thought makes you shiver with anticipation, and a small sliver of worry.

Dabi grins wildly at your flushed face. “Like what you see?”

You nod, and he laughs, fingers snatching your legs, tugging you toward him. You spread for him, so eager and fucking turned on you can’t think straight. His hand lowers to his cock, and he strokes himself as he rechecks your silken cunt, gathering some of the gossamer strands of your arousal on his fingers as he ensures that you’re ready to take him.

“I’m not going to go slow,” he warns you, his eyes lifting from your folds.

Gulping and biting your lip, you nod, a shaking exhale escaping your lungs. He shifts himself nearer and begins to press. He’s right, you think, wincing at the sting of his intrusion. He’d stretched you out, licked you until you were leaking all over the bed, but it hurts.

It takes him a moment to bottom out. Once he does, he groans and gasps above you. “Fuck (Y/N), you’re so damn tight.”

You flop your head against your pillow and let out a long sigh. He’s holding still as you adjust, and, despite his warning, he’s being careful with you. It makes your chest squeeze. After a few more pained breaths, you can feel a low tingling radiating from your core. It’s like an itch. Experimentally, you cant your hips, your legs wrapping around his waist, cautious of the stapled skin across his lower back.

Dabi mutters a soft curse and pulls back, his length sliding out of your drenched pussy. When he glides back in, you feel that same tingling sensation. Distantly, you realize it must be those piercings of his, but you’re too overwhelmed by the sensation to process it fully.

“Hold on,” he groans, his hands bracing beside your head. You lace your arms around his bowed neck, and he starts to pounds into you. It’s a calculated motion, but- ah- he’s taking the extra second between his powerful pulls and thrusts to scrape his pelvis against your pulsating clit, stimulating you, ensuring that dim blaze pleasure within you keeps building. Whimpering, you arch your back, your ankles locking around him, encouraging him to keep going. You feel so good, so full, filled to the brim and practically begging him for more.

Sloppily, his mismatched lips find yours and he nibbles and kisses at you. The sheer heat of him is making you both slick with sweat. You don’t mind the salty, dampened feeling, if anything, it eases his motions.

You’re so wet now that he’s gliding easily into you; that piercing of his heating up, and the rapid fire thrusts he’s giving you create a smoldering inside you; like he’s catching you on fire from the inside out.

His hips stutter and he lifts one hand from the bed, his thumb easily finding your clit. He presses a tight circle across you and you see spots.

“Come on,” he groans, his voice hoarse, strained, “cum for me (Y/N). Fucking cum on my dick.”

That desperation in his tone is all that it takes.

Seconds later, you’re arching and shaking so much that he has to hold you still. He eases into you a final time, his frantic thrusts slowing, spacing out as he enjoys your rippling channel, and the fiery feeling of his own release almost hurtles you over the edge again. You curl against him, panting into his burnt ear, licking at the damaged skin.

Dabi leans heavily against you, one large hand pressing into your lower back, lifting you to him. Once he comes back to himself, he kisses at your shoulder, his warm breath making you shiver. He eases himself out of you and your legs clamp together, holding his cum inside you. It still feels so, so hot, and you’re not ready to let it drip out of you, not yet.

He untangles himself from you and adjusts some of his staples, wincing against the sting of his marred and clean flesh. Realizing what he’s doing, you slip from the bed and pad into your bathroom. You clean yourself off and grab a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, dampening a clean cloth with the solution.

“Here. It’s got some peroxide on it,” you tell him as you reenter the bedroom, tossing the rag his way. He catches it easily, dabbing it over himself, careful to not snag it on any of his loose skin. While he’s busy doing that, you snatch up his discarded white shirt and sling it over your head. He looks at you and scoffs.

“What’s wrong with yours?” he asks, tossing the cloth onto the floor.

“Yours looked better,” you inform him, returning to his side and leaning close. He rolls his eyes at you and you shift into his open lap, straddling his hips. Grinning, you kiss at his neck again, sneaking a few groans from him. Sighing as you give him a particularly hard nip, he bats you off of him, tumbling you down to the sheets.

“Give me a fucking minute,” he complains, shaking his head as you wrap around him, pulling him into your arms. Once he’s settled onto the bed you turn, pressing your back to his chest, relaxing into the familiar hold. He snorts, amused by your sudden change of mind.

Dabi lowers his forehead to the back of your head, a small smile rising along his lips. Your breathing evens out and he listens to the sound, trying to memorize each little detail of you.

Yeah, this is it, he tells himself as he drifts off. The rest is just extra. Oh, it’s nice, to be sure, but this, this right here is what he really wants.

Notes: Soft, soft Dabi. I like him like this ꒰ ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱ ˖°

Tags: @evesmores, @spicy-skull, @xwildskullx

#dabi #toya todoroki #i can put that #like omg #bnha smut #dabi x reader #dabi x y/n #dabi x you #toya x reader #toya x y/n #toya x you #tw: blood #tw: gore #tw: dabi #tw: heat play #answered asks #asks

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dendotdrabbles · 2 years

Text

when i write stuff for the skelebros, i like to use House on lane 66 rules for magic, because i think they're fun. here are my hcs for the skelebros magic colors and smells (and bonus Dusks :])

-the dusks dont have multiverse names yet, so bear with me <3

Undertale Skelebros!

-Classic Sans' magic is prussian blue, and smells like fresh linen. i feel like if you were to kiss him, he'd taste like the smell of warm, fresh linen. if that makes sense? he really loves naps, ok?

-Papyrus (universe nickname is Paprika) his magic is orange (duh) and while i love Lane 66's idea that his magic smells like oatmeal cookies, i think he sees himself as a very energetic tough guy!! so i think his magic would smell like fresh cut grass. if you kissed him, he tastes very herbal. i think he'd joke about his kisses being good for your health. it just feels right.

-Dusk is a patience soul with an integrity twin, which lightens the cyan of patience into a nice sky blue, and their magic smells like coffee. they are a very hardworking person who gets shit done, and likes to have a nice cup of coffee while they work.

(since hybrid magic is purely based on the soul, the color of their magic reflects the state of their soul as well. meaning that all dusks have similar colored magic, due to their almost identical souls. )

Underswap Skelebros!

-Blue. i got tired of the infantilized ideas of blue and classic paps, and i think you can tell. in my brain, Blue's magic is electric blue, and smells like rain. if you kissed him, he'd taste like petrichor.

-Stretch! look, i know we love a sassy skele, but i feel like Stretch is very sweet at heart, he is a papyrus after all. they all had once truly believed that anyone can be a good person, even if that ideal is warped now. anyways, Stretch's magic is amber in color, and smells like dandelions. i bet he'd taste a little floral if you kissed him.

- Swap Dusk is still pretty hardworking, but pushed their efforts in a different direction, instead of leadership, they became an influencer (and they hate it, it feels like lying, but they're trying to sway the people into voting for them) their soul is more patient then their counterparts, leaving them a seafoam blue with magic that smells like Eucalyptus

Underfell skelebros!

-Red. we all know that he's a big ol softie under that gruff exterior, and i think he knows that too. but he doesn't think he's worthy because of the bad things he's done in the past, which is why i think his magic smells like burnt marshmallows. also its red, ofc. i don't think i've seen a fell sans who's magic isn't red.

-Edge! we know him, we love our little tsundere, and i think his magic is blood orange and smells like gunpowder. i think it'd be that color because he feels incredibly guilty for all the lives he's taken, as much as he tries to hide it. i remember a fic I'd read where (i think it was a swapfell fic actually) mutt had drawn every person he'd killed so he wouldn't forget their faces. i think Edge does something similar. not sure what yet tho. maybe he writes letters to them, never to be sent.

-Fell Dusk. they are the General, leader of their district and protector of their people no matter the cost of personal relations. they must be strong and logical at all times, making their soul a shade closer to integrity than the Tale version, a nice cerulean blue with magic that smells like peppermint. sharp and eye watering if used correctly.

Swapfell

-Nox. i feel like his magic is royal purple, and smells like disinfectant. i feel like hes a neat freak because he wants to have control over something in his life, so he cleans nearly obsessively and his magic shows that. i feel like Mutt teases him about it "you clean so much that even your magic is clean!" and Nox doesn't realize he's teasing? so he's all proud of himself. very cute, can you tell i love the swapfell brothers?

- Mutt! or Rus. either or. anyways, his magic is Mulberry in color and smells like cinnamon. where as Lane 66's Mutt smells like cloves (which is a VERY powerful smell, i feel like its very bold and the cloves reflect that version of mutt perfectly) my characterization of mutt isn't as bold, he's more shy around people that aren't his brother or other trusted person, which is why i think cinnamon suits him more than cloves. still "spicy" but more toned down.

-Swapfell Dusk is known as the Guardian, they are not the leader (yet) but are in charge of protecting and providing for everyone, creating a safe space for their people to thrive. ironically, swapfell dusk's soul is the closet to tale's in shade, being a baby blue in color, and their magic smelling like burnt jasmine.

Horrortale

-Bear. we love our boy, but he is very tired and very scared, even if he doesn't show it. his magic is slate grey (with a blue-ish tinge. very subtle tho) and his magic smells like charcoal

-Cook. very sweet soul, in a bad environment which forced him to do bad things to survive. his magic is rust colored, and smells like old books. i feel like when he's overwhelmed or having to do something he doesn't want to do, he retreats into his mind, and pretends he's reading a very scary book.

-Horrortale Dusk is a very sad sight, someone who was once so calm and put together falling apart when their twin and children were killed. they protect their last two loved ones with their life, having no regard for their own safety, and if it came down to it would become their dinner willingly if it meant their survival. since the integrity twin was killed, dusk is nothing but corrupt patience now, their soul being a sickly pale blue and magic smelling like smoke

House on Lane 66 belongs to @oolongteacup426

highly recommend!! its such a great fic <3

#underswap sans #undertale sans #undertale papyrus #underswap papyrus #underswap #underfell sans #underfell papyrus #swapfell sans #swapfell papyrus #horrortale sans #horrortale papyrus #headcanons #undertale oc

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renamusing · 2 years

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6, 18, 38, 44, 61, 66, 71, 86, & 135 🧐✍️

for the book recs ask game ! 💕

omg rae tysm i didnt expect so many !!!!!!!

6) a book with a pink cover:

convenience store woman by sayaka murata. my edition has a pink cover. it's a super short book about a social-misfit woman who finds her purpose working at a convenience store. very humbling and heartwarming story. i adore it.

18) your least favorite book ever

not gonna include 'trash books' here cause we all read those from time to time and they are what they are. so i would probably choose a little life by hanya yanagihara. absolute slog to get through. even though i enjoy angst, this was misery porn. the more i read the more i wanted to end it all. reminded me a bit of the goldfinch but without any payoff, anything redeeming story-wise. same reason i also have a long-standing beef with wuthering heights.

38) your favourite series

OKAY NOT THE EASIEST QUESTION FOR ME because i love so many and all of them for different reasons. i guess ursula le guin's earthsea series might be my favorite because i relate a lot to the way she approaches characters and relationships, but i also love her hainish cycle (books 1-3 link very nicely to each other!), and i have to mention asimov's foundation trilogy for the ingenious way he weaves politics into the plot and grrm asoiaf series for the sheer size and scope of what he tries to achieve.

44) your favourite fantasy novel

tolkien's the lord of the rings. it's part of my identity.

61) your favourite horror novel

yo i need to read a lot more horror yet but bram stoker's dracula is a classic for a reason. i also really enjoyed the vampire lestat by she who must not be named.

66) a book that fucked you up

george orwell's animal farm! and honorable mention to ursula's novella the matter of seggri. that was some fucked up shit! and octavia butler’s kindred! tf happened there?

71) your favourite LGBTQ+ fiction

i dont know that it's my favorite but i've recently read the house in the cerulean sea and it was pretty cute. my favorite lgbtq+ fiction spiritually? the heart is a lonely hunter by carson mccullers.

86) a book with an insane plot twist

anthony bourdain's kitchen confidential is bonkers from beginning to end. that man lived 100 lives and i miss him a lot.

135) recommend any book you like!

piranesi by susanna clarke. read this book immediately! no summary, no spoilers. just inject this book into your eyeballs!

#this was so fun!#ty rae for some great asks #i hope at least one of my recs will bring light into your life one day #i wish i had more time to read tbh

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dadbodsarehot · 4 years

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yearning;

rating: general

pairing: pagan min x midas caspian ( dont have a cool ship name yet oops )

words: 996

summary: this all just fell out of me im so sorry. i really love this sexy chinese dilf and also abusing metaphors and similes

----------x----------

He is dreaming of a touch, needy and storied- and then he suddenly isn't, thrust back into a cold reality.

Pagan touches Cas all the time- brushes of a hand against his bare arm, against his cheek as he fussily shoves hair out of his face when his ponytail starts to come undone and whip in the wind- but not in any way that matters. To him, at least. To Cas, they matter more than he's sure Pagan could ever imagine. Would he stop, if he knew how often thinking about his fingertips against his bare skin kept him up at night? If he knew how his chest ached for him in the small hours of the morning? If he knew how often he inhabited his thoughts and dreams? Surely, he would stop. He might even kill him.

Wasn't he already killing him?

What was the difference? Would the suffocating feeling of blood in his lungs taste different than the choke of beating wings and intrepid legs? Would those hands still draw a symphony from his blood as they stole the air from it? How would falling into a void like dark brown eyes feel, if he was sure it was the last void he would fall into?

The ceiling of his bedroom blurs into incomprehensibility- the tears are like clockwork, on nights like this. The frustration with which he rubs the sleep and water out of his eyes is new, growing like the tropical garden in his chest. Should he just leave?

Could he think of a better way to die than this?

He can't, not really, but he can think of a hundred more painful ways to die, and leaving is one of them- no matter how much he likes to think it's an option. What would he do, if he left here? Bleed and ache until he couldn't take it anymore, haunted by echoes of Pagan's laughter and the squeeze in his chest it causes like fingers wrapped hard enough around his heart to leave bruises?

The only thing more painful is allowing himself to hope. Hope is a sweet sickness which sinks into his veins in the wake of his tears and makes his traitor heart race unbidden. What if all those glances, all those touches, meant something? What if Pagan entertained the thought of his lips, of his voice, of his hands, in the dark spaces of late nights? He brought them in front his face in the dark, rotating them, trying to find something special about them. Wasn't royalty supposed to be special? Why did he not feel as special anymore as he always had?

With a huff, he rolls onto his side and pulls his arms in close to his chest, his brain conjuring on it's own all the thoughts he couldn't dare entertain; arms warm and strong around his waist, a firm chest pressed against his back, the breath of a hot laugh against cerulean locks or the back of his neck. How could something feel so good and hurt so much at the same time? The thought of a single kiss, pressed intimately against sensitive skin, was enough to drive him wild- summoning heat into his stomach and cheeks at the same time as it pierced him like an arrow and stole his breath.

His huff becomes a full on groan as he pulls himself out of bed and shifts to sit on the edge, feet hitting the floor with more echoes of his frustration. His hair falls loose and messy in ocean waves about his shoulders, falls into his face and obscures his view of the floor- but he wont push it out of the way. The disappointment that it wasn't Him doing it might overwhelm him into another round of tears. The sun is just beginning to rise, casting the sky in the rich, dark blue of early morning.

He doesn't look up until the ringing of his phone breaks the early morning silence; right on schedule. Maybe eventually it'll stop startling him- maybe eventually he'll stop waiting for the day the call doesn't come. His suddenly unremarkable hands shake when he presses the accept button.

"Good morning, Pagan."

"Cas, dearest! My, you're up early. I do hope I didn't wake you this time. How did you sleep? Any interesting dreams to report on? Oh, you know how I enjoy hearing about them."

Cas could almost laugh- it's like he knows, sometimes. Like he knows everything and he's just fucking with him. Maybe he did; maybe he was. Would it make him a fool if he stayed for it anyway? If he devoured the crumbs he was given like a starving man, like they were a delicacy? Maybe his father was right and he had always been a fool. "I was already up. Early to bed, early to rise and all that. And I..." He clears his throat awkwardly, remembering the heated touches that would never be, "No, I. No dreams. Haven't had any. No dreams. Not lately. Sorry."

"A shame, really- you have such a varied dreamscape- what I wouldn't give to be able to experience one for myself! I do hope you're telling the truth, though. If not, I'll surely have to put you to death for treason." He laughs, and the sound is like the sun rising even through a tinny speaker. The forest in his chest sings with colorful birds and the chirp of insects. "Anyway! I called with the intent, as always, to invite you to dinner tonight! But perhaps since you're so awake and lively this morning, you would like to mix things up and join me for breakfast?"

"Hmmm... breakfast, huh?" He pretends to consider it, even though he's sure they both know he'll say yes. "Is saying no also considered treason?"

Another laugh. God he loves that sound. God he hates how much he loves it. "You know me so well, darling."

"Then I'll see you there."

#my writing #my crown and yours #the last part of this especially made me so gay to write god #im a mess #please just take this #actually i do like it #i think it turned out pretty Decent

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jyunshiim · 4 years

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An Oath to Thy King༆

Genre: Angst | Fluff | Romance |

listen to: love poem | i hate to admit

summary: Childhood friends face struggles and are faced with secret promises that no one knew about until her 18th birthday.

TW: a little suggestive but no nsfw

A King has been born. The palace was overjoyed with the birth of the new king who was ought to take the throne on his 19th birthday. The current reigning King’s smile painted across his honey toned skin beckoning all his servants to attend his wife. The palace was as blithesome as it had ever been, with servants, helpers and even some guards visiting the sweet, blessed baby boy, cradled in his mothers arms as she coos at him jubilantly. He was gifted many things by many of the King’s companions and people who worked for him and he helped. “One day son, you will take my throne and rule our kingdom,” he smiles at the child, his finger brushing against his soft cheeks “but for now, you are my little Prince Taehyun,”.

A couple years went by and at the age of 5, Little Taehyun met his first friend. He was a year older than him but they got along from the first day bonding over toy cars and hide and seek. On a balmy spring day the little ones waddled and sprinted around the lavish rose bushes, hiding behind the hedges giggling gingerly before the other pounces out and startled the other. The would often tackle each other to the floor and tickle on another on the luscious verdant grass, sweet laughters filling the soft warm atmosphere. On Beomgyu’s 6th birthday there was a party at the palace on behalf on King Kang, since Beomgyu’s father was a close friend and a worker for him. The balloons were decorated around the dining hall and the guest lounge, blue and green streamers hanging from the tall ceilings and a little Taehyun excited about gifting his best friend a gift he begged his father to buy. When the king ordered everyone to assemble at the guest dining table, allowing the young Beomgyu to sit at the top of the table, he ordered his butlers to bring his gifts in but before that took place, you come running in with a box. Taehyun smiles ear to ear. “Father, yn is here!” he runs up to her and grabs her petite hand and pulls her towards Beomgyu and you tried to reach the table to put the gift in front of him but the King takes it from you gently helping you place it on the table. The gifts come in a Beomgyu’s smile was ever so precious. As the sun was pondering on the horizon, Taehyun, Beomgyu and you were sat on the balcony that was connected to Taehyun’s bedroom; the view was of the kingdom and the fragrant rose garden just below him the the vine covered archway at the end of the garden. It was no regular garden, it was a garden that the king made for his wife before they got married hence why the archway was at the end with some green space. The you and the boys played together in Taehyun’s room as the parents were in a meeting discussing important matters. It was a warm evening, the ambience so enthusiastic, the warmth of the air embracing the three of the children on the balcony as they exchange gifts. “open your present Beomie” Taehyun giggled clapping his hands, his cheeks a light blushed pink and his honey orbs filled with pure happiness and joy. Beomgyu ripped open the silver wrapping paper swiftly to reveal a velvet box. Beomgyu gasped, the stars in his eyes illuminating his face and the smile growing on his face when he realises what it was. The box contained a bracelet made out of gold with the three of your initials on it, ‘Taehyun, Beomgyu and Yn’. Although, a little saddened you looked down; a little disheartened you present wasn't as good but Taehyun comforted you. “yn! it’s okay! don’t be sad please” he frowns and hands you a little box too so the trio of you all had the same friendship bracelet. “OH MY- Taehyun thank you so much I love it so much we’re all matching now!” Beomgyu squeals in excitement. He opens your present and it was a crocheted teddy with ‘CB’ oh his chest with a little heart. “you are my best friends forever!” Beomgyu squeals with excitement as he tackles the pair of you to the floor. The two giggle under Beomgyu; “B-Beomgyu get up,” Taehyun giggles. “You have to call me Hyung i’m 6 and you’re 5,” Beomgyu plays around teasing him. “Yeah but IM a Prince!” Taehyun throws his stuffed cat at his head before it fell off the balcony. “NOO! kitty” Taehyun frowns whilst looking down from his balcony looking at his toy wedged between two rose bushes. “It’s okay Taehyun, you can get it tomorrow morning, your father said that you have to be asleep soon, we have to go,” Beomgyu frowns. As soon and Beomgyu uttered, rainclouds began to sheathe the blueish sky, turning them a dismal grey. Thunder and lightening began to arise, causing Taehyun and Beomgyu to become a little frightened. “hey, it’s okay! Beomgyu you have the teddy i gave you,” you point out before tiny Taehyun turns to you hugging you. “im scared i don’t like the thunder,” he whines. Your father and Beomgyu’s father wait at Taehyun’s door waiting for the pair of you to go home. “don’t worry, I’ll get kitty tomorrow,”.

Six years later, your 10th birthday. You could remember this day almost perfectly as if it were a vivd dream that reoccured over and over again. The skies were painted a beautiful cerulean blue with specks of alabaster clouds dancing gracefully above you. The warmth of the sun grazed over your skin, gleaming over your slightly blinding you playfully. The bees buzzed around you and the joyous feeling in your stomach felt so exhilarating. “YN!” Beomgyu yelled as he saw you sitting in a slight daze holding your puppy plushie, sitting on your hand-built porch your father built; “happy birthday!” he smiled his puppy like features peering at her past the small gate. She skips over to him and opens the gate and he hugs her, as best friends do, and he passes you a little basket with some gifts. “I got you some of the best baked goods for your birthday as well as a little charm to!” he hands it to you. Your heart fluttered as if there were a million butterflies swarming inside. Beomgyu had always gifted her something on her birthday since they lived in the same neighbourhood but as for Taehyun, he wasn’t allowed out of the Palace as much as he was used to. Taehyun was often stuck in his tenebrous palace, studying ‘Royal etiquettes’, general studies, practicing fencing and also Korean literature too. It was tedious and at the age of 11 he barely understood the literature he was given but the King demanded he know each and every book inside and out. Taehyun would sit at his window seat each evening, gazing out into the nothingness of the town craving to venture into the main markets, the small forest and the mountain gardens just outside his palace. He held the leather book between his soft palms analysing and marking each sentence and word to learn about it further. Being so young yet so lonely meant he was able to focus on literature and reading and by the time he was 18, each and every word would be engraved into his mind. The palace was vast, but the emptiness of the building added to the loneliness.His father claimed it was only to make him ‘mature’ and to ‘teach’ him the ways of a royal but you and Beomgyu thought that it wasn’t fair. One afternoon, Beomgyu went outside Taehyun’s window and threw small stones to get his attention. It looked like Beomgyu was the Knight in shining armour and Taehyun was the damsel in distress but in reality it was Taehyun who was the imprisoned Prince and Beomgyu the resilient friend. That was until The King spotted Beomgyu and was asked to leave the palace grounds immediately and was reported for breaking and entering. That was indeed his first warning. As you and Beomgyu sat together in front of your house, your father approached you with a serious expression on his face; “we are ordered to go to the King’s palace for an urgent meeting,” he informs her. “Can I come too, Sir?” Beomgyu asked your father. “of course Beomgyu,” he ruffles his chestnut hair before holding your hand and making his way to the palace

“Dont go anywhere too far okay sweetie,” your father reminds you. Of course you obey your father, you wouldn’t do anything to hurt him. “okay father i wont,” your sweet smile warming his heart, as well as Beomgyu’s. As soon as you and Beomgyu walked into the palace, a servant was escorting Taehyun to the main entrance before his dejected expression uplifted and his eyes were like two shining marbles glistening in the palace lighting. “oh my! you guys came!” His happiness was through the roof when he saw you both. There was nothing more exciting to you than to sit with your best friends in the rose garden that held significant sentimental value to the Royals. You, Taehyun and Beomgyu sit outside in the rose garden watching the stars gleaming, the spring breeze sending slight shivers down your spine as the heavenly bodies setting the dark abyss of the night sky aglow; “happy birthday, Yn” Taehyun hugged not forgetting your birthday. “Thank you! you didn’t forget!” you giggle hugging him tighter, his arms gently embracing you.

Years went on and You and Beomgyu gradually became closer since your father used to work with his father and also for the King. Taehyun became busier and busier the more the three of you grew up and the King limited the amount of time Taehyun could spend outdoors and outside the palace and meeting his friends and spending his precious time was useless to the King. By the time You were 17, Taehyun was completely unavailable to go outside and meet his friends which made you distant from Taehyun since the Palace grounds were now out of bounds. He was cooped up in his lavish palace, being served by his servants and butlers, everything in a silver platter whenever he asked for something, his bed being three times the size of him with sheer curtains draping over the frames, red and gold bedding fitted with almost no creases every time he got into bed, his attire always ironed and chosen for him; what a perfect life, right? However one thing that he couldn’t demand for was time. Although, You and Beomgyu didn’t know what happened behind closed door.

One winter’s night, ivory snowflakes glided on to the greyish cobble path sheathing the walk way as you and Beomgyu walk home together. You pulled your scarf over her face slightly to warm her icy cheeks, the piercing cold reddening your skin. Beomgyu’s hands were deep in his coat pockets and an idea sparked up in his head; “hey wanna go somewhere?” Beomgyu asks.

“like where? it’s freezing” you whine as you show her pinkish fingertips, pouting at him. Beomgyu puts his arm around your shoulders, “the barn house? our usual hang out spot” he chuckles and then smiles before the realisation hits you. You felt a bit stupid but Beomgyu found it oh so endearing. “ohh yeah, sure, I have nothing to do. My father is at the palace at a meeting again, he’s been going to a lot of meetings recently” you scrunch your nose before Beomgyu taps his cold finger on the top of your nose playfully before bolting ahead. “h-HEY!” you whined again as Beomgyu starts running. “Come and get me,” he teases as he runs down the street, laughter emitting into the icy atmosphere. The both of you end up at his barn house out of breath and sheltered from the blizzard that was about to hit the town, collapsing on the sofa’s he had there. “I win,” Beomgyu’s smug face teases, his vexatious energy radiating off of him. “only this time,” You warn jokily. Beomgyu prepares some hot drinks for you to warm up your frost bitten hands; When you held the cup of hot cocoa, the warmth flooded your body rapidly melting away the icy sensation in your hands. You looked up at Beomgyu as he was cleaning up the spillages, his messy hair over his forehead; and her mind reminisced.

Beomgyu looked different to what he did 7 years ago but it was clearly because of how he aged. He was 19, only a couple years older than you but his features were more defined and he just seemed so beautiful. His chestnut brown hair framed his charming face. His eyes, pools of dark cocoa always gleaming in the light and his skin a soft honey tone. You both sat together in the barn house which you both often did when you had nothing to do or had no plans such as tending to the Kings needs or desires and would talk about your secrets or things you were feeling~ thats how you both became closer over time. As you both sit cozily with the fireplace burning the logs Beomgyu threw in, you sigh and gaze at each other. “So anything today?” Beomgyu asks, leaning into the couch swinging his head back so his brown locks fell back. You thought for a bit and tilted your head slightly and sighed, “have you ever loved anyone before?” you ask nervously. He stops mid sip, licking the whip cream off his lips and smiling back, “I don’t know, have you?” He asks back. “perhaps,” you shrug. “what do you mean perhaps? do you have a crush on anyone? if they break your heart I will beat them up,” he threatens and puts his fists up punching the air making you giggle. “no.. I don’t know, don’t worry forget i even asked,” she shakes her head. “uh? you can’t just do that?” he scoffs and then silence deafens the room. He suddenly pounces on you making you yelp, his hands wrapping around your waist and tackling you to the couch. You were trapped between the couch and Beomgyu, his arms either side of you and his face directly in front of you. There was slight tension between the two of you, you gulp nervously. “i guess you still wont tell me?” he gives a playful little smirk before you push him away. Your heart was beating out of your chest. You divert the attention and sit up on the sofa, “i miss Taehyun, he hasn’t been seeing anyone lately,” you sighs, “ahh yeah me too, I do miss him,”

Their childhood had always been with the young prince but the King established new rules for Taehyun as he grew. It was as if he were trapped in a cage unable to escape from his preordained future he had waiting for him. Being a Prince wasn’t easy and in Taehyun’s case, being the only son, there was more pressure on him. - On the same night, when the blizzard hit the town, Taehyun gazed outside his tall glass windows that were draped in red and gold embroidered curtains and sighed. He sat in bed writing a letter which he did since he was 11 ever since he couldn’t go outside. It was like a diary account only to a specific person, his best friend of course.

‘To my best friend, It has been a long day for me. I woke up at 5am and had breakfast at 5:30am making sure it was filling and nutritious and then starting my fencing training at 6am. After that I was tutored for 3 hours which was tiring and boring but it’s what my father wants. Lunch was lonely, i remember how we used to run amongst the rose bushes and you used to pretend you were a royal. it was cute i must say. I miss those days so much. My coronation is so soon and it’s nerve wracking, i’m sure you’d be there right? to see me finally turn King and I’ll let you stay here and we can be together again.’

The King’s personal servant knocks on the door and asks Taehyun to go to sleep. The hope and light in his eyes dissipates into the nothingness of his bedroom but before the servant left she left some valuable information. “Prince Taehyun, your father has asked me to tell you that there will be a compulsory meeting with your father to discuss some important matters next Friday.” she bows. “oh okay..” Taehyun responds. Next Friday. That was Taehyun’s 19th Birthday. When a royal is 19, they would need to be taught everything a budding King would need to know and what they should do. It wasn’t easy. Also marriage was to be organised by Taehyun’s father so the royal bloodline would stay intact but of course Taehyun wouldn’t be able to choose his lover... As the lights were turned off, white alabaster specks began blanketing the window pane, Taheyun pulled his sheets closer to his face pondered for a while. I miss you...

“Yn,” her father calls out reading a letter that was from the King himself. “yes father?” you walk into the room where your father worked and he turned around handing you the letter, “ this is from the King to you sweetheart,” you take the letter into your hands and unfold it, reading it as you walks to you room. You stops. “invited to a meeting with the King and the Prince?” you say to yourself.You think about it. Beomgyu knocks at the door just before you closed your bedroom door, so instead he opened her window. “Hey yn wanna go on a walk?” he asks holding two hot drinks in his hands and a little white wooly hat sitting on the top of his head.You looks at the letter and back at him. “yeah hold on, lemme get my coat,”. “what’s that?” he asks as he passes the drink to her and points at the royal letter. “some meeting I have to attend next week,” you say. “just you?” Beomgyu asks curiously. “yeah I guess so? I think my father will come too,” you assure herself. Beomgyu nods his head in affirmation and then thinks for a little bit and decides to go somewhere else; “let’s go somewhere different today.” Beomgyu’s cheerful charming smile suggests and of course you went along with it, sipping at the saccharine hot chocolate, the warmth of the liquid swirling in your mouth, the softness of the melted marshmallows colliding with the savour of the dark chocolate. He grabbed your hand, fingers unintentionally interlocking and he ran to a special place, special to him anyway. After passing the stalls and passing the little meadow where you, Taehyun and Beomgyu used to frolic, Beomgyu took you to a desolate garden which was situated on higher ground not too far away from the palace. “wait this is the hidden garden you found when we were kids ,” you gasp. The tree was beginning to blossom and the flowers were spread across the concrete and between the crevices. There was a bench which wasn’t there from when you could remember. “I built this bench here so we could sit here and enjoy the view,” Beomgyu expressed to you. “BUILT IT?” you respond shocked! You both sat down on the bench, close together as you rested your head on your best friends shoulder.

The stars gleamed down reflecting off the town’s architecture, the sheen of the town making you feel nostalgic. You sigh but you didn’t realise that Beomgyu was lovingly gazed at you, his finger tips fiddling with your hair that cascaded over your shoulders. His heart began to palpitate when you realised he was playing with you hair. “you having fun there?” she teases sitting up and facing him, your sultry, pinkish lips caught his eyes and his eyes. The chilling breeze raised the hairs on the back of your neck, or at least you hoped it was the breezed and not his delicate touch. His doe eyes were like two Tiger’s eye - the beautiful warm toned gemstone- and his blushed cheeks were like red apples. “Why are you staring at me like that?” you let out a slight giggle although there was a glint of admiration and love that you denied to yourself, but before you could laugh it off, Beomgyu’s hands cupped you face. A gasp left your lips before it even got the chance, it was swallowed up by his tender kiss, the velvety sensation of his lips against yours. This was your first ever kiss.

He felt confident and you didn’t seem to want to pull away but there you were, in his arms letting him guide you his hands around your waist. Perhaps it was the unconscious desire and the tension that had been present for years but you let him kiss you, of course giving the same energy and you allowed him to adulate her innocent lips with his own. Once he calmly pulled away, their eyes met; “I’m sorry, I know i shouldn’t have without asking but-” Beomgyu was interrupted by you, “if i didn’t like it i would’ve pulled away, no?” the atmosphere was awkward but it was clear to see you and Beomgyu had a fire burning within. After that day, they would meet in the same location and often share an act of affection, nothing was official since Beomgyu wanted to wait until your birthday to surprise her with flowers. He kept his feelings concealed and away from their ‘friendship’ respecting your choices but ever since that day when he asked if you liked anyone, it just made sense to him and of course he shot his shot. His heart fluttered every time he saw you and that was when he was 100% sure that he was in fact in love with you. It was your 18th birthday: You had to go to the meeting before you could do anything celebratory. You wore something flattering and formal to present yourself appropriately. The flowers were fragrant and blossoming, the soft sun light beaming over you as you skipped your way to the palace but as you arrived there, the King, the Prince and two guards were waiting for you. There was uneasiness lingering in the air; you began to feel suffocated, your throat closing slightly. Something wasn’t right. “Good morning Ms. L/N, please, follow us through to the meeting room,”. You looked over at Taheyun, the light in his eyes absent and empty. “hey Taehyun, how have you been?” you whisper, playfully smiling as you always did. “i’ve been fine, busy too,” there was no smile, nothing. “ i missed you so much,” You walk next to him and whisper and you swore you saw the corner of his lip curl slightly before dropping again...

Taehyun’s POV:

‘Her voice was like a breath of fresh air. Hearing her made my heart sing and seeing her was as if i were dreaming. She looked so... beautiful. Why is my heart beating so fast? Why have my ears gone red’ That was my thoughts. I had a crush on Yn since we were kids and it never changed, but it felt stupid to me that I had a crush on her for so long. “Why is she even here? was she supposed to be the designer for the coronation?” I thought again. The room felt bright again, her ecstatic energy radiating warm oranges, vibrant pinks and shades of yellow painting the aura of the dismal room but there was also the sense of comfort and being at home. I still dont know why my father invited just her, It didn’t make sense until my father began to speak at the table.~

The king seated you all down and he began to speak instantly. “ Thank you for coming to the meeting Yn,” he greets you with a simple thank you before he begins his main point. “I have gathered the Prince, myself and you all to discuss Prince Taehyun’s coronation,” It sounded rather simple, perhaps you were supposed to hold the crown at the front or even decorate for the function? “I would like for you, Yn to marry my Son, Taehyun,” The King smiled proudly after letting hell run loose within Your mind. You and Taehyun lock eyes with worry and shock. “ sorry father, what did you say?” Taehyun gulped in fear of speaking back to his father since he knew the consequences. “Son, in order to be a King you’d have to marry and continue our bloodline. You wouldn’t want to disappoint the family do you?” The temper of the King was gradually rising, “your father made a promise to me 8 years ago that you would marry my son since i have helped your family with fortune and let you live on my land,” there was complete silence between the two. “this isn’t me asking, this is me telling you that the marriage will occur before the coronation of Taehyun and therefore you would need to be at the palace for your fittings and other preparations,” The King said rather calmly as if it were such an easy thing to accept. How were you supposed to tell Beomgyu that she’s marrying his best friend, the prince?Your heart shattered at the thought of turning your back on Beomgyu; the vacant chasm in your chest only growing more and more as the King spoke. “ I shall let you both talk about this matter,” The King ups and leaves leaving you both alone, in silence.

“so..” Taehyun begins “ how has life been treating you huh?” he asks sounding genuinely interested in what you’ve been doing without him all these years. “oh um...” you start off. What do you start off with? The fact you’ve been lip-locking his best friend or that you have feelings for Beomgyu. “um well I have been studying a lot and often just taking walks and hanging out with Beomgyu,” You nod, her fingernails dug deep into her skin under the table. “How is he? I miss him quite a bit but I cant have anyone over until.. well..I’m king,” he sighs frantically biting his lip as a habit, rolling his eyes, . “Im sorry my father blackmailed your father,” Taheyun gulps “Just for the sake of my father, do this marriage thing.. but you can love anyone you want” His words ring in your ears. “ so you’re saying that I marry you for your publicity and your reputation but I can go on and live my life?” you asks feeling your stomach go bitter. Taehyun nods with a sombre expression. The silence was every so deafening and all you wanted was to run away from this mess but you didn’t want to leave Taehyun. “um so what have you been up to?” you try to change the subject but you instantly felt regret. “training, learning how to be king, i dont know it’s the sae every day from 5am every morning,” He sighs and a servant brings him water and places it in front of him. “You see that,” he eyes the water that was placed, “whatever I do, something is given to me even if I dont need it,” he scoffs. Taehyun wasn’t having a good time in the palace and your heart ached to see him this way. Before you could say anything else, a guard comes in and notifies you that you have been asked to be escorted out to make your way home. “i’ll see you soon Taehyun,” You run up to him and hug him, standing on your tiptoes. He has gotten a lot taller hasn’t he?

That evening you left the palace after being escorted to the front gates, jumping down the stairs before suddenly looking up to see Beomgyu with a bouquet of white and red roses waiting at the entrance with a charming smile on his face.You swore he could’ve been mistaken for a Royal. “how are you my love,” he says handing her the flowers and you accepted them, the aroma of the fresh flowers bringing memories back to Taehyun’s rose garden, before walking beside him and replying to him. “i’m fine,” although Beomgyu knew you long enough to know that you weren’t fine. He stopped you and put his hands on your shoulders; “what’s wrong?” he frowned, his glossy coffee bean orbs gazing back at you like a lost puppy. He didn't like seeing you sad, he made sure you were smiling and would dry your tears whenever you were crying. “It’s nothing,” you say before standing on the tip of your toes to kiss him, stumbling since you lost your balance but Beomgyu’s arms caught you. Not long after, he took you to your special place again, her head resting on his shoulder whilst saddening thoughts raced through your busy mind before Beomgyu broke the silence. The moonlight was beaming over the two tonight as the trees calmly rustled, dancing with the wind, whistling melodically. “Yn..” he begins clearing his throat, “After all these years i have made it clear to myself that-” he was interrupted by you, since you knew exactly what he was going to say. “you love me? that’s what you’re going to say right?” your voice cracked, your throat drying making it hard for you to speak. “I was, yes, I was also going to ask for you to be my girlfriend because I love you so much,” you couldn’t lie to him, you didnt want to hurt him. “The King and my father had a deal that I’d marry the Prince in return for what the King had helped us with,” your voice was hoarse and you could feel your eyes pool. Beomgyu’s bright, elated smile dropped, his sparkly eyes dimmed and his flame burnt out. His aura was grey, almost as if a matchstick lost it’s flame. “you.. the prince..” he scoffs, the corner of his lip curls half upset and half hurt, “of course, because you’re the only daughter out of the King’s companions... ” His head was in the palm of his hand. You put your hand on him gently and despite the butterflies and warmth he felt he couldn’t accept the Prince’s to be wife to be so intimate with him, it felt wrong to Taehyun and to himself. There was silence before Beomgyu decided it was time to take you home. It was midnight and all you could do is walk beside him in the darkness lit up by the street lamps, the air dense and humid with a slight breeze. You got to your house, the lights all turned off, everyone must’ve gone to bed. You turn around to Beomgyu, his sorrowful face looks at you; “have a goodnight yn,” he says before he leaves. There was no kiss goodbye, not even a heartfelt farewell. He just left.

From the following day and onwards you had to go to the palace regularly and often had to meet Taehyun. There was a dress fitting in which the Prince and yourself had to attend although you didnt want to go. The room was only occupied by a tailor, a dress designer, the Prince and yourself. The uneasy atmosphere making you feel anxious. “ G’day, Princess,” the tailor and designer bowed to you. Princess didn’t settle with you well at all. “we have picked out a few dresses for you to try and to get fitted for you,” the pair smiled before handing you a few dresses to go and try on. You went through a few of them and Prince Taehyun shook his head to most except one. It was a muted blue dress, with a tulle skirt that did make you feel like a princess. The bodice was embroidered with little blue flowers making it look like a miniature flower garden as well as the bottom of the tulle skirt. The veil was also a light blue which was attached to a white flower headpiece which was small and elegant. Taehyun’s eyes widened at the beauty he saw. “you look uh...” he struggled to find words to say. “pretty?” you finished his sentence as he nods to confirm what he thought, his cheeks burning up a crimson hue. “oh it seems like Taehyun likes this one, we shall get the measurements done as soon as possible,” the pair begin to take your measurements, tape measures around your body. You were already treated like the Princess and it felt.. weird. You learned about many Royal etiquettes over time, every time you went to the Palace and it was a big jump from being a regular towns person to a Princess. Not something you would expect every day.

On a spring morning, Taehyun stands out on his balcony letting the cool, placid atmosphere sink in before he was interrupted by his father’s servant. Frustration took over his body, his fists clenching and his ears turning red, he despised his father and his fathers servants. He exhaled before turning around to see you standing there in a royal dress you had been styled in. “The King has asked me to leave The Princess with you until he calls you both down for the last meeting before the-” the servant was interrupted. “marriage okay, you may leave.” his tone was stern and his button eyes turned fierce and filled will hurt, anger and sadness. “yes sir,” the servant closes the door before he was left with you alone. “so, is this royal treatment any fun,” he sighs leaning against the frame of his balcony arms crossed. “i dont know..” you reply as you dig your fingernails into your skin again and Taehyun notices. He walks over, still furious from earlier, and grabs her wrist. “what is this? why do you keep doing it?” He asks, a taint of worry in his eyes but his tone sounding angry, his brows furrowed. “don’t do it, you always did it as a kid when your father yelled at you for getting lost in the palace,” he chuckles, easing off a little, reminiscing about the past; “remember how it was so easy to be kids,”. He remembers something and makes his way over to his bedside table. “ i have something to show you,” he says before getting a little wooden box out of his draws and opening it. The box was filled with letters, things he wanted to share with you and also a brooch he kept from his 16th. you looked through the crumpled papers and there was many letters addressed to his ‘best friends’ and some that weren’t addressed to anyone. The papers were discoloured and crumpled and also tear stained which you assumed from the random smudged ink on the letters. you read the letters carefully each one of then addressed to ‘best friends’ until at one point it changed; it wasn’t addressed to anyone. What happened there? you ask Taehyun and he looks down thinking of how to say what he was thinking. “Over time being in pure isolation, I missed your laugh, your energetic aura and i guess over time I developed a strong liking towards you and i can’t deny that,” he shrugged “so i just wrote whenever i felt my heart ache,” . The silence grew louder again. “you liked me? for how long?” you put the letter down. “since i don’t know, it just happened but you and Beomgyu seemed to have a stronger bond and it made sense so i tried not to get involved” Taehyun slowly closing the draw, observing the way the muscles in your face tensed up and the way you clenched your jaw. What did you feel? anger? sadness? frustration? you didn’t know what you felt but you knew for a fact it wasn’t positive. “did i say anything yn?” Taehyun lifts your chin up with his finger, the worry inundating his glossy, almond eyes “did i say anything to upset you,” his hand rests on your knee. You had to work up the courage to tell him but you couldn’t do it. The cowardice.

Beomgyu waited outside your house as he always did which was strange to you since he hasn’t spoke to you for a week or two. You walk up to him in your tailored dress, made just for you, and he turns around. “hi,” he speaks forcing himself to smile before looking you up and down; You could almost hear his heart flutter... or was that yours? “Beomgyu, h-hi,” you stutter since apparently you forgot how to speak! “What are you doing here?” you ask him inching closer to him. “I came to say sorry, none of this is your fault and to be quite honest, i hope, over time you do love Taehyun,” his smile appears, his real, genuine smile. “of course I still love you and i will do anything to protect you but sometimes it’s just the right person but in the wrong place at the wrong time in the wrong life....” he rests his hands on your shoulders before pulling you into a warm embrace and you could feel your tears pooling at your eyes. You grasp his sleeve before burying your head into his chest and let your emotions run free. You were confused and lost; you felt lied to by your own father and felt like you were a part of a game, a stupid pawn to be played with. You didn’t want to hurt Taehyun or Beomgyu but there was only one path to take. “i’m so sorry Beomgyu..” you sob into his chest as he caresses your head gently.

The more you hung out with Taehyun the more the bitter taste in your mouth left, the tense atmosphere was lifted and everything felt so...comfortable. You would go to the palace nearly every day to ‘reconnect’ with Taehyun. One day Taehyun’s father would organise a dinner for just the two of you to supposedly grow feelings for each other. The table for the two of you was set up in the well known and loved rose garden, a cylindrical wax candle in the middle illuminating the seating area prepared for you both. The chairs were in ivory white covers and the table cloth was a blood red. A vase was gently placed by a servant, the roses delicately presented. Your eyes locked with Taheyun’s as he pulled the chair out for you, you couldn’t help but smile. “what’s that smile for huh?” Taehyun teases, easing out of his ‘professional’ royal upfront and showing his real persona. “nothing,” you smile playfully before tucking your chair in, “why are you smiling so much for?” you tease back. His cheeks blush up a soft pink before he begins to speak again, “because I’m spending so much more time with you and it feels like we’re kids again,” he fiddles with the friendship bracelet he still had on. “kids, except me and you are getting married very soon which I understand was way out of our control,” Taehyun nods in agreement. “how are you feeling though?” Taehyun asks you. You couldn’t lie but you felt like there was a swarm of butterflies in your stomach, your cheeks burning up at the question. Are you falling for him? It’s too quick right? You ponder for a little bit. “i’m feeling.. I’m feeling great,” you smile at him, and everything felt as it were merging back into colour again. What was happening? It felt like some sort of epiphany. The evening went as planned, the pair of you talked and caught up with all sorts of things that happened. Soon after, for the second meeting between you both arrived which was a couple days before the big day. You waltz into the Palace happily to meet Taehyun but abruptly stop when you see Beomgyu with his father in the meeting room with Taehyun’s father. Your heart stops and everything goes grey again. You see Taehyun being escorted to you by his servants. you wanted to run and hide. Your eyes were so fixated on Beomgyu and he saw you; thats when your heart shattered when he smiled back and waved, his sweeter than bubblegum smile making your throat go dry. Once Taehyun approaches you he sees you focused on his best friend moreover, his best man. His hand rests on your shoulders and Taehyun smiles at you before gesturing to walk with him. You hoped he didn’t see your reaction to Beomgyu but unfortunately he did. “hey, are you okay? did anything happen?” Despite Taehyun assuming one thing he didnt want to come to conclusions without asking you. “I- uh, y-yeah,” you stutter, but he knew you werent telling the truth. He lift your chin up with his finger making your eyes meet his. “please Yn, tell me what’s bothering you,” he pleaded. He just wanted you to be okay and besides, telling the truth is better than lying. “Beomgyu and I-” he cut you off, “had a thing but my father forced you to marry me and you felt hurt and every time you see him your heart aches?” You could see he was feeling hurt, but not because you liked someone else. He felt hurt because he knew this would happen , that you would fall for someone else, he felt hurt for taking something away from you that made you happy. “Taehyun, listen I feel hurt because yes i did like him but he told me to move on and it just feels painful here,” you put you hand on your chest “and ... after all these weeks if being with you i-” He listens and then speaks “you’re falling for me?” there was some silence. “it’s okay, don’t force yourself,” he says, holding your hand as his fingers interlock with yours. Suddenly you begin to ease.

You both went to his room, the balcony doors were wide open and you go to stand outside to get some air. You inhale the crisp air and exhale. You look out into the town and let your mind roam free for a little while but as you do you feel Taehyun’s hands wrap around your body and his head rests on your shoulder. You didn’t move, you didnt’ want him to move. It was comforting. “are you okay with this?” he asks you, and you nod your head in response. You could feel your heart beating faster but you could also feel his too. Beomgyu walks out of the palace and sees you on the balcony and gives you a smile and a thumbs up. You smile back at him before he walks away. Once Taehyun raises his head, you turn around to him, your watery eyes glistening in the sunset. “what’s wrong?” he asks but without any warning you cup his face and pressed your lips against, on the tip of your toes to reach him. Once you part , he had a shocked expression on his face but with nothing said, he presses his lips to yours again, one hand above your waist and the other on the nape of your neck. Whilst you both share something so passionate such as this kiss, he guides you to his bed; as you sit on his bed, you look up at him. You couldn’t believe what was happening. “are you okay with this,” he asks as you nod. instead of a gentle passionate kiss, his lips crash onto yours, Taehyun gently lowering himself onto you. An hour or so later, the pair of you were notified about dinner and Taehyun asked for his stylists to help you both pick out dinner attire. Although you couldn’t just forget about the moment you spent in his room despite it being impulsive, it meant something. Especially to you, as if it were a conclusion to whatever chaos disrupted your mind.

~a few weeks later~

It was warm springs day, the sun was beaming through Taehyun’s window. He sighs as he wakes up and it hit him what day it was today. The Royal Wedding. It wasn’t long until the servants came in with his attire and his pin to go on his blazer. It felt surreal that i would be marrying my best friend and even the thought of it was nice but of course i did feel bad for, although ever since that one evening in my room it felt like all our questions were answered from one simple kiss. okay simple may be an understatement but regardless... Thoughts raced through his mind before he thought to ask about you; “where is yn?” he asks and the servants look at him blankly, “The Princess,” his voice sounding slightly angrier. Taehyun didn’t like how foolish his fathers servants were and luckily enough his status gave him authority to teach the imbecilic servants the correct way to approach him and pay attention whilst working. “she is getting ready your highness, should I get her for you?” one of them asks. “just give her this,” he takes his pin off his blazer and hands it to the servant. You on the other hand, were getting your dress fitted and hair done for such an important day but you couldn’t get one thing off your mind; what Beomgyu told you that one night. He wanted you to be in the right hands, perhaps he thought he wasn’t good enough and Taehyun was better for you but that evening you spent with Taehyun felt like a solution to all your questions. The King and the guests all gather in the beloved rose garden where you, Taehyun and Beomgyu grew up together, sitting under the white archway every time you visited; Taehyun stood at the front with Beomgyu as his best man, standing behind him. Of course he’d be the best man, since Taehyun didnt have very many friends. “treat her well okay,” Beomgyu pat Taehyun’s back. The music queues as petals began to suddenly fall from above you. You inhale sharply, is this really happening? You see your father waiting for you so he could walk down with you and Taehyun at the end waiting along with Beomgyu. “yn sweetie, i’m sorry for making you go through this,” her father apologises as he walks with you until you got to Taehyun, “don’t worry, i understand and i can make this work,” you smile at him before you stand face to face with Taehyun, looking a beautiful as a Prince could be with his elegant white suit with his gold finishes here and there, gold epaulettes on his shoulders along with the gold friendship bracelet that the three of you had on. As the ceremony begun, Taehyun took your hands into his gently and stood up tall. The atmosphere felt magical, like you were some cinderella in your baby blue gown, holding the future King’s hands; you couldn’t help but forget about everything and get lost in Taehyun’s eyes. It was time for the vows and Taehyun went first.

“From being children to blossoming into the young adults we are now, i promise to keep you safe from whatever harm comes in the way. I will promise to love you and take care of you and support you in whatever you choose to do and listen to you. I want to be your safe place front start to end, hand in hand you and I Yn. Even from the sidelines i will cheer you on and make sure you are happy and loved because you deserve every bit of it .This is the beginning of our journey, and I hope to spend every little bit with you.- Taehyun”

You exchanged your vows. The guests were in awe, applauding the newly wed couple as you both slip the silver rings onto each others finger before it was official. You were officially married to Prince Taehyun and had the new title as Princess. As everyone was free to enjoy the function, Taehyun offered his hand to walk you back down the isle and make your way to where the main function was held which was inside the palace. “congratulations Prince Taehyun and Princess,” Beomgyu smiles whilst bowing respectfully before you punch him playfully like the old days. “stop, it’s weird,” you smile a little “well I am a respectful being, am I not?” he nudges Taehyun. “Of course,”. The King notifies everyone that the dance will start soon and of course Taehyun help his hand out, bowing down at you, offering the first dance with you formally. “Would you care to join me on our first dance,” he asks you, and without a second thought, you take his hand. The lights dimmed and everyone watched the new couple dance together for the first time. Taehyun’s soft gaze making your stomach flutter, his hand on your lower back leading you to the music. “everything okay?” he asks and you nod. Beomgyu watches from the side, “that’s my girl..” he sways gently with the music as you and Taehyun dance. Little did you know, those vows were written by Beomgyu and he wrote it on the behalf of himself as well as Taehyun. Taehyun appreciated Beomgyu helping him write the vows since he felt the same too but it was time for Beomgyu to move on.. just like you moved on with Taehyun. Taehyun stood on his balcony that night thinking to himself and you ask him what was wrong before you got nothing but silence. You did what he did to you and wrapped your arms around his torso and you never felt so sure about your feelings now. “My love,” he turns around before hugging you again so your head rested on his chest so you could hear his beating heart “what’s gotten into you?” he asks. “I like when you call me that,” you mumble into his chest. “well you’ll hear it a lot often now,” he says cupping your face, before kissing your forehead. You finally got the courage to say those three words to him, after making sure your feelings were true; “Taehyun.. I-I love you..”~ “I love you too” he whispers back

Meanwhile a lot goes through Beomgyu’s mind; “I can’t give up on you... but i might as well forget you.. to help me but i cant stop thinking about you..” His mind races as he goes home to the 2nd bouquet of flowers that he bought for you that one night to keep him company..., now withered and fallen..

#txt taehyun #txt #tomorrow x tomorrow #au #fanfic #readerxtaehyun #readerxbeomgyu #bts x reader #txt x reader #fem reader #soobin #yeonjun #hueningkai #friends to lovers #kpop #kpop au

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unproduciblesmackdown · 5 years

Note

Odds, but only if you vibe with the number

hell yeah Thanks

1) Mercury: What’s your full name?

middle names are always subject to revision but for now like, milo sky kilopascal burrows is the Full Story. it took forever to land on a ~last name~ b/c really i just was very Shrug about the matter. but it’s a fun niche lotr reference and it just also sounds right so. milo burrows is the more nailed down part here

3) Earth: Where’s your home?

well so far i’ve always lived in virginia, a wildly cursed place, but also there sure is a lot going on here. i don’t really feel that attached to anyplace, but i spent the first couple decades of life in a 40 mile radius of dc, as in washington dc, and visited the city often enough that i kind of feel some attachment to that, or like yknow That’s Where I’m From. but not really that much, b/c also i’m not actually from dc, just the dmv area / nova. also a wildly cursed place with a lot going on though

5) Jupiter: Do you have any siblings?

yeah im the middle sibling betwixt a slightly older sister and a slightly younger brother

7)Uranus: What’s your hobby?

i guess i draw often lol

9)Pluto: What time is it right now where you are?

as i type this it’s 11:44pm. eastern standard time club

11)Sun: Have you ever had alcohol?

yeah

13)Rigel: Have you ever gone on a rollercoaster?

yeah ive sampled many kinds....wooden.....indoor......ones with a loop de loop....ones with the uhh Hydraulic Launch.....ones that go backwards for a bit.....one with an 85 deg drop.....ones with the bar across the lap / seatbelt and ones with the vest thing that swings down....ones with the track above you....idk ive had a rollercoaster journey, i like them...

not rly vibing with 15 :///

17)Aldebaran: What’s something you care desperately about?

oh yeah i skipped this one. "desperately” is a big adverb and like, if i try to think outside the realm of Human Rights my dude, Antifascism, et al, like, what am i desperate about? anything? hard to say. other people like, who i know personally, and like, humanity and shit. and any cat i ever see. stem and humanities subjects are friends actually. i’m fond of the lhc. i like not being cold. when it comes to Interests it’s like, look, when one of your major Focuses is billions, it’s just like, welcome to hell.

19)Bellatrix: Have you ever been forced to lie/keep a secret?

uh no i’ve Chosen to tho lmao

21 does not pass the vibe check

23)Orion: Favourite month?

idk june is nice? i dont have a solid answer. sept / oct would be more fun if i wasn’t already dreading the onset of winter at that point. live in the moment i guess is the motto of fall

25)Delphinus: Favourite study?

never liked school. recess XD...in middle school during my last period i’d finish shit early and the teacher would be like “you can go hang out in the library if you want” and i was like, sick thanks

27)Gemini: Favourite song?

i don’t have one

29)Libra: Favourite colour?

i like that real saturated cerulean / curious blue type deal

31) Aries: Favourite movie?

i also don’t have one

33 idk not feeling it it’s a bit Much with the repeated digits

35) Andromeda: Do you consider yourself social?

yeah lol like......i don’t necessarily Vibe very well with people too easily, i’m Picky, and also people don’t vibe with me, so it all works out so that i don’t find ppl i’m mad comfortable interacting with that often / usually it takes time anyways cuz i’m not used to people wanting to talk to me haha.....but i also just like to Be Around people even if i’m not necessarily interacting with any and all of them and i like to casually talk and stuff and like, in college i’d go to the coffee shop mainly cuz it’s like. i want there to be People Around me rn.........and then as always cishet bros ruin things b/c they think if you talk with them for 15 sec / joke around, that’s Hitting It Off and Flirting or whatever. but they never count

37)Cartwheel Galaxy: When was your first kiss?

well in.......20...12???? i think?? someone kissed me but i wasn’t really vibing with that either so, speaking of Not Counting lol......not like i consider a ~first kiss~ to be anything that important to me so it doesn’t really matter either way but it’s like. i would prefer this not have happened regardless of Firsts or not

39) Comet Galaxy: Have you ever had to leave a relationship because someone changed too much?

haha i guess not

none of the 40-odds thrill me? do i not like 4?

51)Pulsar: What do you hope to do in the next 10 years?

i don’t really think with this Framework at this juncture lmao....i guess i never really have lol i’m not big on like. planning out things to a T anyways

53 Not for me....

55) Black Hole: What’s the last thing you want to see?

jesus christ idk. if i knew i was dying afterwards it’d be sort of difficult to appreciate it. i’ll see whatever i see and i just try to appreciate Nice Moments as they happen. like, a nice sunset where i don’t die afterwards is the same as a nice sunset which is the last i ever see ever, same with anything else. pretty skies Are nice always though. but like idk even as a hypothetical i don’t really want to formulate my ideal demise. or see much of a purpose in doing so except i guess as a like, “ooh if you were going to die tomorrow what would you do today” cuz it’s like goddamn idk? why ask? you’re not gonna Know, unless you are, in which case, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it or whatever. no wait scratch all that. looping kompenso clips until i die lmfao. really idk

#Anonymous

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iknaenmal · 2 years

Note

fuchsia and olive 4 the ask game - cerulean

Thank you thank you !! I am also. A cat i am gonna eat your hamster

#ikna answers #cerulean-lives-dont-matter #ask game

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momestuck · 6 years

Text

Let’s read Hiveswap Friendsim... volume 17!

The penultimate volume. Let’s sacrifice a few more timelines to the great tapestry of fate that we’re weaving. Or more likely, Doc Scratch is weaving.

This time, “Of Teen and Tech, Acerbic”.

One more jade, and one more indigo. I think at this point we have a pretty even spread across the non-Sea Troll blood colours.

Daraya

I thought there was a TV show of this name, but apparently it’s ‘Daria’. This troll and that Daria seem to have a similar attitude, judging by the image. As for ‘Daraya’, it refers to a handful of places, notably Darayya in Syria, which was apparently the site of a massacre seven years ago during the civil war. Oof.

Daraya is the final troll written by Cee. L. Kyle, creator of prior memorable trolls Bronya, Zebruh, Remele and Lynera. I guess Cee likes writing jades.

Anyway, Daraya’s route begins as a few have in recent episodes - the protag feeling lethargic and listless, too tired to make friends.

We end up in a cerulean neighbourhood. There are some pointed lines...

When this game wants to, it really skewers its targets.

Anyway, the music kicks in as we realise Elwurd (the huge lesbian) texted us to invite us to a party. A bunch of other trolls seem to be showing up as well...

The track this time is called “trollkind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return. to obtain something, something of equal value must be lost. that is alchemys first law of equivalent exchange. in those days, we really believed that to be the worlds one and only truth”. No prizes for guessing who decided to name a song after an extended quote from Fullmetal Alchemist.

There’s some more emphasis on how artificial our friendship feelings are...

Anyway, as we approach the party, we spot Daraya, busy looking very goffick.

She’s not thrilled to see us. Of course we’d be friends with Elwurd, she says grumpily.

Now in Befriend Mode, we do our best to mimic her whole ‘disaffected slouch’. Apparently being vaguely cynical and depressed is pleasing to Daraya. She seems to like Elwurd though...

Lesbians, I swear...

I swear...

Anyway, we learn that Daraya has snuck out of the caverns - though she’s not as restricted as little Wanshi. She whines about Bronya’s ‘cloister rules’. But hey, she met Elwurd through Bronya...

We blather about how the caves aren’t so bad, and namedrop some other jades we know. Daraya is not impressed.

Anyway, she’s not invited. So our first choice is to tell her to go home or invite her in.

Let’s let her in, because the other way doesn’t seem to go anywhere interesting.

Bronya isn’t the only troll we know at this party. Chahut apparently hasn’t yet shipped out off planet, and she shows up too.

Chahut makes some remarks about how fascinating she finds jadebloods... or ‘greenies’ as she puts it. She makes a murder joke about whether Daraya is really jade or not.

Yes, that’s exactly how I’d put it. Definitely.

After that brief brush with death, Daraya gets other ideas.

Mmhmm. As we head off, Daraya suggests we have a reputation for being ‘unconventional, weird and rebellious’. That’s certainly one way to describe ‘being a clueless alien pathologically addicted to making friends’.

Ahahaha nicely done.

Unfortunately we don’t have a lot of edgy rebellious ideas tonight.

I’m in favour of being a hoodlum.

Lots of new backgrounds in this episode. Somewhat different style too...

Apparently these are by Phil Gibson.

We ask Daraya how she’s doing. Her answer: not well.

Daraya says some dangerously radical stuff about how everything sucks for everyone but the highbloods... and maybe them too. We get a callback to the joke from last time...

Ha.

The narrator refuses to comment on that. That’s a good call, I think.

Daraya continues to complain. As a jadeblood, she’s not going to have to go into space, but life in the caverns tending to matters of social reproduction. We commiserate, which she appreciates.

We raise an eyebrow at the mention of Lynera. Danara assures us that she hates her - and not in a romantic way! (“or well...”)

At that point, we run into Tyzias. Just the person to take Daraya’s alienation and dissatisfaction and forge it into a revolutionary will, right?

Luckily, protag has the same idea. Which is no doubt why Tyzias was written into the plot at this point.

The well known “goth to anarchist” pipeline, right?

There’s a brief allusion to the weird shift that happened with Fozzer - a vague memory of a different Fozzer. “But why did you remember that guy?” indeed.

Tyzias tries to give a Daraya a little pep talk against hopelessness... Daraya is not particularly persuaded.

God I know that utterly depressing feel. What can one troll do, indeed?

Tyzias answers it the challenge.

She’s not wrong.

Daraya is not exactly being won over, but the protag does manage to get her to chill a bit and keep the conversation going. Tyzias has more real shit to say.

Daraya challenges her - is it just about making herself feel better, if there’s no realistic hope of real change? Tyzias says... in some way, it is. And the protag chimes in - that doesn’t make it less effective, at whatever little it is achieving.

At the end of this, I’m gonna try and make a list like... troll I would most want to be friends with in real life, and least, favourite route and so on. Spoilers: Tyzias would be the friend I’d want to make.

Tyzias points out like... what the hell else are they gonna do? Daraya finally admits she’s got a point.

And... having secured a friendship between not just us and Daraya, but us and Tyzias... we reach the end of the arc.

Let’s go fuck shit up. By which we mean, read law books. I guess!

That was nice. I fully support this lesbian goth and her budding revolutionary consciousness.

God I’m predictable.

Unfortunately, finding the friendship route here means it’s all downhill from here.

If we tell her to go home instead of bringing her to the party...

strut pod encasements!

That was predictably short.

OK, now for the non-phoned in side branch.

She does have an idea, it turns out. We hop into our (now quite low on fuel) car, and head off to a ruined city somewhere near the thriving one we’re living in.

Ooh. I wonder what we’ll find?

We make our way to an abandoned mall to go urbexing. Fuck, I love reading about urbex. Too much of a shut-in to have ever actually tried it.

We end up in a food court with the roof caved in. It’s apparently cool as hell. Alas, it’s not illustrated.

I’m not sure which rebellion this would be associated with. That of the Signless, or some other?

Ah, that narrows it down. The Signless rebellion, then. In which case... Alternian malls are really built to last!

We comment on the strangeness of the absence of adults, but this upsets Daraya.

Apparently, as an adult, she’ll be cloistered off on her own somewhere, and forbidden to contribute genes to the slurry. Huh.

To be honest, it’s a wonder that most other trolls are so cheery. Daraya’s attitude seems like the sensible one on this planet.

Daraya says some real shit about the existential dread she’s living with, the paralysing hopelessness of having no future to speak of.

Hey Daraya, do you fancy this copy of Baedan I happen to have on hand?

make total destroy etc. etc.

Anyway, at this point... Daraya somehow manages to set the mall on fire by throwing a mall at a cooker.

And... the narrator has no choice but to leave, as Daraya lets herself burn in the centre of the mall, one of the few places she cared about.

God, this episode was a bit real lol.

It’s not wrong though. Leftist theory certainly hasn’t cured my depression (lol), but it has given me some perspective to put it in a context where it can be managed, I guess. Something to work towards, no matter how futile it may be, in this fucking hell world that created me.

In the words of 2B... “Everything that lives is designed to end. We are perpetually trapped in a never-ending cycle of life and death. Is this a curse? Some kind of punishment? I often think about the god who blessed us with this cryptic puzzle... and wonder if I will ever get the chance to kill him.”

Let’s look to the struggle within the cycle. What else is there?

Nihkee

So now for...

Nihkee. She stronk. Keep your pants on, lesbians.

Nihkee is the creation of David Turbull, who previously made Tegiri (weeb) and Tirona (baby lawyer). Her theme, appropriately bombastic, is another James Roach piece with a long name: “lmao i still dont know if it’s nicky or nike (like the shoe, not like... the name mike)”. Make of that what you will.

This episode opens in media res - at a sporting arena. How did we get here?

We seem to be watching some kind of cage fight. Knowing trolls, I imagine it will be a lethal one.

Apparently we’re attending to Amisia. She bemoans the ‘boorishness’ of the purplebloods.

This seems to be the troll equivalent of pro-wrestling, rather than, say, MMA. However, injuries are a lot more common. We learn that Amisia won us tickets in a raffle, and invited us to this ‘Display of Muscular Theatre’.

We are watching The Huntress (olive) fight Cullpitz (purple). The narration mentions that Cullpitz is bizarrely un-clowny.

The fights are, naturally, rigged by hemospectrum. The narration notes that The Huntress seems to be deliberately holding back to avoid inciting the crowd. Amisia, however, is excited for the next competitor: Nihkee Moolah of course, who - Amisia claims - has never lost a fight.

Cullpitz wins the fight, and causes The Huntress a likely permanent injury. The protag feels sick enough to have to step away. But as we leave, we get drawn into a conversation with a violetblood (seadweller). He promises money (nah), fame (no thank you) and at last, friendship. And the deal is sealed.

Unfortunately, Nihkee’s opponent is dead. Which means... he wants us to take their place. Having an alien will make big money for the ring.

Let me guess: the choice is gonna be to refuse this terrible plan or go with it.

Maybe, but not yet...

We meet Nihkee, in the middle of working out. Some of these trolls are dressed more for MMA than pro-wrestling but who knows.

There’s a meta joke in the narration.

She is not best pleased with the showrunner for interrupting her prep. Though, I get the impression it’s all in the spirit of showtrollship.

Sure are some muscles. I’m not entirely sure what the [()] typing quirk is menat to represent exactly. Probably not a yonic symbol?

It’s worth noting at this point that all of my knowledge of professional wrestling comes from reading the TVTropes pages a couple of times. If you’re curious, it’s an impressively comprehensive discussion of wrestling terminology and the various dynamics involved in its production.

Kayfabe is the way wrestlers pretend in their media appearances that pro-wrestling competitions are not mostly scripted athletic performances with exaggerated personas, but genuine fights between real people who actually act like their stage characters. Now all the fans fully understand that wrestling is fake (but still fun), it’s not taken as seriously, but apparently it was a huge deal back in the 70s. Give the article a read, it’s fascinating.

Nihkee is not particularly impressed by the suggestion of performing with us.

We protest. At length.

We get the first choice: are we ready for a BUTT CLENCHING, FLESH ABRADING, KNUCKLE BLISTERING, MUSCLE RIPPLING, SMACKDOWN FROM UPTOWN?

Of course we fucking are.

She gives us guidelines for the show. Basically: follow her storyline. “The alien invader challenges me in an exhibition match to TOPPLE the MIGHTIARCHY.” We struggle, but eventually...

...PREVAILS AGAIN!

(I guess to convey suitable drama, a lot of Nihkee’s dialogue is split between multiple dialogue boxes, which makes it a little hard to take screenshots.)

We ask if we’ll die. She assures us no - unless we’re especially weak. But even then...

Well, that’s a great reason to die. Sign me up.

Secondly, an “exhibition match” means we will not be challenging each other for positions on the “flexeladder” - otherwise we’d have to wrestle nude, like at the “Intergalactic Trollympics”. I’d count that as a blessing.

We bring up the question of face and heel. You can read about these on tvtropes, but the narrator does a pretty good job of explaining.

In troll society, of course, the traits we’d ascribe to a ‘heel’ are valorised. So we’re just going to get crushed under her heel. Indeed.

Time for the match. The showrunner does the announcement for Nihkee.

In a clear allusion to good old Equius, Nihkee’s entrance is accompanied by a shower of thrown glasses of milk from the fans.

And opposing her whole deal is...

“Some messed up lowblood alien”. Huh, usually when I go into an arena fight in games I’m the “mysterious stranger”. Who could have seen this coming?

Ah, that’s what fate was working towards this whole time! Thanks, Doc Scratch, for your dedication to the cause of wrestling.

So, naturally, we’re playing the foreigner. Here to prove our superiority to trollkind. TVTropes naturally has an article on this: the Foreign Wrestling Heel. We’re going by the book here.

We put up a good bit of bravado. But are we prepared to face, Nihkee demands, her...

OK, you got me. I’m laughing out loud again.

The protagonist puts up a pretty good show, it seems like - barely dodging Nihkee’s attacks in a suitably dramatic fashion. We bleed, but the narration suggests that under the stage lights, the trolls will take it as ordinary ‘rust’ blood and not ‘mutant’ red. We hope.

Nihkee invites us to attack with appropriate pomp. But we...

...don’t do that, not directly. We springboard off the edge of the cage in “a classic clothesline manoeuvre”... and get knocked the fuck out.

But we haven’t reached our second decision point yet, so that can’t be the end of us. Hopefully we gave the trolls what they wanted.

Do we even have a fourth wall anymore?

Anyway, this turns out to be Nihkee’s hive. She is not impressed at our ring performance - getting knocked out by our own attack. Well, that’s fair.

Training montage incoming?

Hell yes. (She calls everyone sister, including the announcer guy, in case you’re wondering if that’s an implicit gendering of the protag.)

She’s brought us to her BRAWNISEUM. As we can see in the illustration... it’s pretty much made for Space Marines to train at.

After her speech about our indomitable will and potential, she invites us to ASCEND with her.

Hell yeah. Let’s [S] ASCEND together!

Of course we fucking take it.

We start with the acid treadmill. (The acid doesn’t seem to be depicted.) She turns it up... a bit fast.

We manage to run at 12 miles per hour - which is about bronze level good. Apparently all the machines rate us by blood colour. While the low end of the hemospectrum gets the badass psychic powers, the high end gets the physical strength, it seems. There’s more jokes about how great our legs are - they merit a cerulean!

All the while, Nihkee ‘encourages’ us in a way that’s gendered in the opposite way that things usually are on Earth.

After half an hour of that, she gives us a protein shake... except it’s not a protein shake but ‘gatorade mixed with milk’. Amazing.

Then we get tested for ‘pressure resistance’ in a soft iron maiden. Apparently that’s olive level.

The overall verdict?

Hooray.

We do more of this - including getting chased by a literal toothy monster. By the time we finally collapse...

She’s impressed by our commitment - our “strength of heart and soul”. And our great appreciation for the MOST RIGHTEOUS OF PURSUITS... earns us the recognition of “workout friend”.

And that rounds out the arc. Presumably after some more of this, the narrator will be due for a return to the ring.

Go us!

Easy arc to find the right answers in, evidently. Now to see what happens if we hesitate.

First of all, before the match...

We can’t watch as she pulls out lowblood challengers from the audience and smashes their faces into the spikes. Oh, trolls. We get treated to an image of this, too.

Mmm, indeed.

Now, if we hesitate later before the workout session...

She dismisses us - unworthy of her gifts, unwilling to reach our full potential.

She tells us to get out of her sight. The narration steps in to make another meta joke (that’s like three this arc?)

We get a fake out fade to black and the first note of the end card music... but then!

...GET RIIII(...)IIIPPPPPED! In our own way.

D --> Hmm, 100k at this e%tremely subtle reference.

Anyway, that someone turns out to be... Stelsa! And Tyzias, who happens to be present. There’s a brief discussion of a fast food service called ‘door smash’, and Stelsa’s love of scheduling. They’re cute together.

But let’s get down to business... to defeat...

...our own flimsiness.

Stelsa’s into it.

Then we hang with her and Tyzias for a bit. We suggest Tyzias might consider energy drinks.

This arc then extends over... a long time!

Multiple weeks! And the training seems to be going well...

It’s almost as if ‘drill sergeant’ isn’t the ideal demeanour for a coach after all.

But as we go to show off our progress to Nihkee, the question of this being a non-canon branch leads us to hesitate.

So we decide to ‘blitz our chakras’ to try and work this out. We put on some ocean noises (which leads to a change in the soundtrack! soft music starts playing, seguing into the menu music) and... start imagining some metaphors.

In our reverie, we slip beneath the surface of the river.

Things get kind of meta. I’m just gonna take a bunch of screenshots because this seems... important.

The images of failed branches, all these catastrophes, blur together on top of each other.

We are implored to ‘find our river’. And we find the two branches of the current route... one sounding much more inviting than the other.

Then things get REALLY meta.

And then we get the rest of the arc in some kind of summary form, all in this... letterboxed? That’s not the right word, but whatever... all in this view. Nihkee is not pleased to see us. We come up with the idea of sneaking in.

It does not seem to end well.

She chases us on one leg and we escape by getting her run over by a train. But she becomes a cyborg coming to chase us down, terminator-like. Yeah, seriously.

NIHKEEBORG spends a year hunting us across the wilderness. And eventually... she catches us. We die.

And coming out of the meditation, we decide... not to do that. We just go to Stelsa’s house instead, and let Nihkee be.

Oof.

God, you never know what you’re going to stumble onto in this game. That was amazing.

Next time: FINAL CHAPTER.

#momestuck #lets read hiveswap friendsim

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