#i used to roll the dice ( ooc )

[holyhitter]

and this one's for me to pop into your inbox :>

[a-gilded-imprisonment]

A luxury of few~

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Aventurine is quiet as he stands on one of the lower balconies in Golden Hour, overlooking the streets below, bustling and filled with people.

The gambler supposes Golden Hour may be his favourite dreamscape in Penacony, as many others would agree. It feels warm here, and the abundant festivities almost always find a way to distract the blonde from whatever is troubling his thoughts.

Almost. Almost, because dreams are meant for the lucky few who have the luxury of being able to escape reality. Although Aventurine would argue himself lucky indeed, such a trivial luxury is unfortunately not one he has the possibility of partaking in.

Even in a place like Golden Hour, the gambler can never escape what he truly is, nor the past that haunts him. He will never be simply “Aventurine”, for erasing a part of oneself is quite a difficult task indeed.

His eyes skate across the scenery in a meek attempt to distract himself, to allow himself to get swept away by the hustle and bustle of the place, to lose himself in the music and parties and neon lights.

His gaze rests on a young couple of women, one about a foot shorter than the other. The taller one must make some sort of joke, because the shorter woman’s face twists up into a smile and Aventurine swears he can hear the echo of soft laughter.

He can’t explain the feeling he gets while he watches the couple, the shorter woman pulling in the other for a kiss, and he would chastise himself for intruding on such a private moment— but the pull of pure joy emanating from the couple is far too tempting.

The taller woman pulls the shorter woman into her arms, and they stand together, swaying softly from side to side.

Something about the gesture makes Aventurine’s breath hitch, and his chest constrict. He looks away immediately, fixing his eyes on the slot machines not much further away.

The gambler can’t help but reassure himself that he must be familiar with the gesture, and that it must remind him of someone… but in the end, it seems to be quite the opposite.

As much as the blonde would love to say that he can relate to the feeling of pure, unadulterated love shared between two people, just as the two women share bliss in each other’s company, the truth would be far from the illusion.

It’s been so long since Aventurine has last been held that the memory of such a sensation has long since faded away… but he yearns for it nonetheless, wants so badly—

There’s a hole in Aventurine’s heart, and the grand spectacles in Golden Hour and endless thrills of Penacony can only do so much to fill it.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

[orchideae]

Also, for whoever didn't catch this when it was originally released, I highly recommend it. I'm still absolutely feral about the nine tailed fox for Yelan. But they're all magnificent in this.

[agonizedembrace]

you know they were so pissed that i escaped

[strangeandun-muse-ual]

Why were you drawn to each one of your characters?

Multimuse questions || Accepting!

With Vox I don't fully remember at this point, but I think it was probably watching the Valentino animatic and a few of the Paranoid DJ comic dubs/listening to Eyes on Me. The whole on-again off-again relationship with Val that gets depicted in fanon was intriguing to me, but I also just really enjoyed Vox's confidence and showmanship.

For Chaz--idk man I just love playing over-the-top fuckboys lmao. I respect the show's decision to introduce a character like him that fans got endeared to really quickly (even if it's a "love to hate him" thing) and then just killing him off unceremoniously by the end of the episode. But I just thought it'd be fun to play around with him a little bit, since we're probably not getting that much of him in the show anymore outside of flashbacks.

With Husk, I just really enjoy characters who are mean and crotchety and Unpleasant but secretly are actually total softies. He's a fun contrast to Vox and Chaz tbh, and I'm really looking forward to doing more with him.

With Ramsey, he's honestly just... my favorite character in Epithet Erased in general lol. He's witty and creative and clever, while also being just a bit of a coward, and that's fun to me.

With Giovanni I think it might've honestly been listening to the audiobook?? I always really loved him though. It's interesting to have a character that presents himself as a Card-Carrying Supervillain, but is also easily the kindest person in the cast. His "evilness" comes from a place of wanting to stick it to unjust power structures, and ultimately is couched in genuine empathy.

I also just really love his monologue to Lorelai about how villains always have the coolest songs, the coolest outfits, the best lines, but in exchange they tend to fail so the hero can succeed, and how "when you're a really great Bad Guy, everybody has more fun." That's just a fun way of looking at writing villain characters, and even if I don't RP Giovanni as much on this blog, it's something I try to keep in mind when I write more overtly villainous characters, like Vox, in a collaborative setting.

And with Flug! I think Episode 6 of season 1 really sold me on him? But I always really liked him. He's kind of in the same boat as Ramsey to an extent where he's creative and clever, can think his way out of a situation more effectively than he can fight his way out, but he's also much more of a coward lol.

[sneasedtomeetyou]

//it's so funny having everyone try and help support casi in her sleaziness cause originally I was gonna have her just fail miserably and that be all. but now yall have me rooting for her. I have no idea what that success would look like tho.

[clvric]

surprise, don’t like it

[yourplayersaidwhat]

Today’s pathfinder module ran for eight hours. Highlights include:

Aracanist: “Can I linguistics him?”

GM: “What?”

Arcanist: “Y’know, can I, like, say calm down in the soothingest languages I know?”

Orc Fighter: “I’m not sure that’s how it works.”

Arcanist: “I know 84 languages, that’s gotta count for something!”

GM: “Y’know what, sure, roll.”

Arcanist: “That’s an eight, so… thirty-two.”

GM: “… Yeah, he calms down, somehow it works.”

-

Orc Fighter, OOC (about an NPC who bites people): “Clearly, his name is Bitey McBiteface.”

-

Bitey McBiteface: “You must kill me!”

Arcanist: “Uh, quick question about the area, is there a National Suicide Prevention Line?”

-

Orc Fighter: *rolls a nat one on perception*

Orc Fighter, who is 89 years old: “Grandma’s developed cataracts.”

-

Orc Fighter, OOC: “Everyone knows General McGeneralface, formerly known as Bitey McBiteface.”

-

Bitey McBiteface: *snarling and growling as Orc Fighter pins him*

Orc Fighter: “Now that’s just rude, young man.”

-

Orc Fighter: “That’s a nat one but it is a 26 to hit.”

GM: *sigh* “You hit.”

-

Arcanist: “So is it a sword?”

GM, frantically looking through her notes: “It… is… something.”

Orc Fighter: “It’s three goblins in a trenchcoat pretending to be a sword.”

-

Monk: “What is the population of this town?”

GM, off-guard: “Uh…”

Orc Fighter: “Between one and a fuckton.”

-

GM, annoyed with the module: “Aaaaah, why can’t I find the instructions for how to do this peacefully!”

Orc Fighter: “They’re expecting us to be murderhobos.”

Stryx Fighter: “Well…”

Monk: “They’re punishing GM for our peace.”

Arcanist: “Peace in our time, peace in our time.”

-

Arcanist, having used Command Undead on an enemy, tied her up, and forced her to play Tic-Tac-Toe with him: “I command her to place her O in the bottom right so I win.”

GM: “She’s gonna fight that… ten.”

Arcanist: “Twenty-four.”

GM: “She writes it with a shaky, reluctant hand.”

Arcanist: “Rather than win immediately, I am not going to touch the board for the next nine days.”

Orc Fighter: “Civilian NPC is just thinking to himself, ‘Do I want to be indebted to these people?’”

-

On a rather important diplomacy roll, Arcanist spent about five minutes rolling different dice, as he is one of two members of our five-person party to have a positive charisma modifier, only to roll a three, a five, a two, a one, a four, and so on ten times until we got it. The first time, Orc Fighter tried to help him.

Orc Fighter: “I assist… oh my god. GM, look at the chat.”

Spiritualist, laughing: “Oh my god.”

Orc Fighter, laughing: “I have a -1 to diplomacy and I just rolled a nat one.”

[cordyce]

BY YOUR HANDS ALONE

neteyam sully x gn!reader

notes: this is silly & overtly fluffy & all over the place if i am completely honest rn. neteyam is a little flustered & probably ooc. sorry :’)

"there you are."

"here i am," you mirror back instantly, hardly sparing a glance up at the far too familiar voice as your fingers continue to work at chopping up some vegetables. it's a busy day—a momentous day. there is no time to waste.

"let me help," neteyam offers, already making moves to steal your knife from you as he steps to your side.

but you weave it away from his grasp, nudge him back with your shoulder and point the knife at him as you address him. "aht, don't think so," you differ, then continue your slicing. "besides, don't you have your own tasks to get to, mr. mighty warrior?"

days like this require a lot of preparation; everyone chipping in and doing their part so that it all gets done and runs smoothly. if even one person slacks off, it could cause a rift in sanctified plans. and that simply wouldn’t do. no, it would not.

"i have completed all of them, actually," he retorts, but he shrivels when you narrow your eyes up at him. "okay, almost all of them."

you scoff, let your pupils meet your sockets with a roll as you pry the truth out of him. of course, one of the most important days of the year and it is now that neteyam chooses to have an irresponsible whim. you aren’t sure what you’re gonna do with him.

"your mother will have your tail if she finds one thing out of place for tonight, you know this." it isn't necessarily a warning, but there is some tip-off in your tone. "you must get everything done."

neteyam hums, leans his hip against the raised wood that you are using as a makeshift counter. he says nothing, simply watches you. takes into account how you dice up the vegetables in front of you diligently before sliding them to the side with your knife and moving onto the next ones. his stare is driving you crazy—no one works well under pressure, after all.

it causes you to have a slight blunder; a misstep. you cut a pattern a tad too fast and send a slice of root tumbling towards the ground. neteyam's instincts are superb, quick, and he catches it before it hits the dirt. mumbling a thank you under your breath as he places it back on the tray, you find the heir before you still not making a move to speak.

you aren't sure why it unnerves you so.

"what do you have left to complete?" it's not the question you want to ask, but 'what the hell do you keep staring at?' doesn't sound quite as nice. so you settle on it.

you take a pause, a breath, to turn to him. throughout the years you have seen the eldest sully child wear many expressions. ones tainted by smiles, irritation, pride, devotion—but this one has you tipping your head in the most peculiar way.

because timidness is not something you think you've ever seen don the strong features of neteyam sully.

he carries himself with such an air of confidence; shoulders pressed back and chin held high—not arrogant, but undaunted. he does not shift gaze unless he is avoiding scoldings and he does not suck in his cheek unless he is fighting frustration. so, you wonder, what could possibly have his face contorted in such a reticent manner. if you did not know any better, you’d almost call his demeanor a rendition of shy. but that seems rather uncharacteristic of him, doesn’t it?

"ah—are you sure you don't need help with that?" he's deflecting, brushing off your inquiry like he hasn't heard it. and you can't decide whether you find that amusing or concerning.

he's making way for your knife again and you twist your arm to hold it out of his reach behind you. you eye him carefully, flit your gaze all around him to pick up on anything that you can that would explain his behavior.

"tell me." it's not an order, you aren't demanding, but neteyam nods his head like he's respondent of such.

"my father told me i needed a, uhm," he stutters, licks his lips, like he's tripping over his own tongue. and it's undeniable the way you see his ears twitch. "for the celebration tonight. i need a.."

"a what, neteyam?" you press, cock your brow up at him. you don't think you've ever seen him like this. never witnessed him so.. "you need a what?"

"a.. date."

so fidgety.

"a date?" you repeat with widening eyes.

"no, no not a—not a date really but i need someone for the—“

"the staining ceremony.” you finish for him, continue his sentence because with all his blubbering you aren’t sure he’ll ever spit it out.

he nods curtly.

the celebration tonight is for all the young warriors who have proved themselves throughout the calendar year as being strong willed and great protectors of the clan. neteyam, of course, is one of them. has been since he earned the right to be titled as such. so perhaps it should have clicked in your head that he’d be searching for a partner for the staining ceremony portion of the night.

but a part of you—if you’re being completely honest with yourself—just figured he had one already. events like this take weeks of planning; most warriors find their artisan a fortnight in advance. because it cannot just be anyone.

the partner one chooses for the staining ceremony must be someone with whom they feel a connection. some of the older warriors choose their mates. some of the youngest choose their mother or father. some settle for siblings. others, in brazen acts of outstretched hands, choose a mate unbonded; one who they harbor feelings for but have yet to seal such in the eyes of Eywa.

you cannot lie and say you had not pondered over who neteyam’s choice would be. a part of you thought he would pick kiri—they have always been so close and she has been his partner for such ceremony before. but, you are not deaf to the murmurs of your village, you are not ignorant of what has been passed from mouth to ear of all that will listen. there have been other… prospects who have been suggested to neteyam for this special commemoration.

your name has not been among them.

“well,” you continue, tear your eyes away from him and get back to the task at hand. there is no need to dwell on such things and fall behind. you have just one more batch of greens after this to prepare then you will be done and can walk away from all this. “if you’re here to ask my opinion on who your choice should be, i’m not sure i will prove to be much help.”

a shut down; a cut off. you’d like this conversation to be over as soon as possible because it’s making your fingers itch. you’re offering him a gateway to close the topic off.

but he doesn’t seem to get the memo.

“no,” he chuckles, now, and you can tell he’s shaking his head out of the corner of your eye. it’s breathy; like he’s punched it out of his chest and finally broken past the barrier of whatever flusteredness had him trapped before. “that’s not why i came to find you.”

“if it’s to convince kiri to sacrifice herself to do it for you again this year, i’m not game for that either.” you don’t understand why his laughter leaves you agitated, why this whole situation has caused an odd twisting in your gut.

“that won’t be necessary,” he disputes, “i do not need kiri to be my partner this year.”

your fingers fumble, your slicing stutters. “oh?” and you want to kick yourself for how your voice hitches. you clear your throat, bite the corner of your lip that neteyam can’t see. “convince some other poor soul to do it for you? is it zuy’nik? i know she presented you a kill from her hunt recently.”

neteyam hums. “no. i have not chosen zuy’nik.”

you grip your knife harder, focus carefully on the blade as you chop down on a bundle of leaves. your throat is dry, your heart is thundering. you feel silly.

“sënuul, then?” you question, do your best to sound as disinterested as possible even though your chest is burning to know who could be lucky enough to have been picked by the heir himself. “i hear many young warriors wish for her. they say she has delicate hands.”

your hands—in contrast—have grown tense; your chops near erratic. being this worked up over a man who is not your mate seems so futile, so nonsensical. if your mother were here to see you now she’d call you childish.

but is it so childish to want things your heart yearns for?

“while that may be true,” neteyam agrees with the sentiment, and that makes your stomach lurch, “it is not sënuul either.”

“then who is it? who could you possibly—“

a hand covering yours has you cutting yourself off. neteyam’s palm melds over your knuckles; stops your unsafe cutting and stills your wrist’s movements. before you can even bring yourself to look at him, calloused fingers are hooking around your chin. swiveling your head around, you have no choice but to meet his gaze. and it is not averting, not twinkling with tepidness like it was before. you think, for a moment, that’s because he’s passed the feeling onto you.

“i do not wish for any other partner in this clan.” and his voice does not waver, does not stumble, now. you swallow as you listen. “i came here to ask if you would do me the honors, for tonight.”

your tongue feels like cotton; the fuzz of it floating to your brain to make everything go static. this is.. not what you had expected.

you had expected to follow neytiri’s orders for preparing the food for the meals that would be shared. you had expected to dress yourself in the ceremonial clothing and jewelry you keep for these special occasions. you had expected to stand around the edges of the circle during the opening dance, serve food to the elders, and sit with a content tight smile as you watched kiri declare neteyam’s war paint for the third year in a row before the true celebration began.

you had not expected yourself to be standing face to face with neteyam, ears twitching embarrassingly sporadic, as he asks you to join him in one of the most intimate and important events of a warrior’s life.

and you suppose you can use that element of surprise as the reason why you find yourself a tad bit speechless while you nod dumbly. a wide grin cracks across his face, curves up his cheeks as he lets out another breathy laugh.

“thank you,” he murmurs, and he still hasn’t let go of your chin. “i was worried i would not get the chance to ask you in time. i was pushing it, but i tried to get all my other duties done as fast as i could.”

now that, the mention of time, finally knocks you out of your little lovesick trance.

“hey, wait,” you huff, shove at his chest lightly with your free hand. “you should have asked me sooner! i should have already had your stain pattern planned out, and—and now i have to go get all of your paints and i didn’t factor in the time for that. you’re terrible!”

“ah, i’m not terrible. i am sure you can just wing it,” he waves off, simpers like this is funny.

“wing it?” you gape at him. because he genuinely cannot be serious. “this will be your war paint pattern for the rest of the year. if it’s bad then you will be stuck with it. you want me just to wing that?!”

“why not? i have faith in you, i’ve put myself into your hands.” and it’s meant to playful, you know this, but the way he’s looking at you proves his words hold their full weight regardless. “don’t be mad at me.”

“oh, i’m mad,” you retort, brush him away as you get back to slicing because now you really do not have the time for distractions. “i cannot believe you have waited until last minute.”

“would you like me to ask someone else?” he queries, and you whip your head over to level him with a glare. “i mean, i am sure sënuul would be honored to be the partner of the future olo’eyktan.”

“you know, i liked you better when you were sputtering and nervous,” you spit back, retract your attention once again. “terrible. truly terrible.”

“ah, do not be mad at me,” he levels again, “what can i do to have you forgive me?”

“nothing. you will never be forgiven.” with no hesitation, but also no malice. your bite holds no venom, and your cheeks are still warm. such hypocrisy you spew.

“nothing?” he questions, and you don’t even have to see his face to know he is smiling. there he is again; the neteyam who holds his chin up high and taunts his brother into mindless games to prove his worth. you admire this neteyam; love this neteyam.

this neteyam grabs your face and tugs you forward before you can think of another mindless rebuttal to spout.

the kiss is light but fervent, and if you were a poetic person you might just say that his lips taste like future promises you already intend to keep. the fight drains from your body and you find no urge to bring it back. this neteyam seems to know how to quell you, how to dispel your frustration and wipe away your grievances like fogged up glass. so easy, so effortlessly.

he pulls away languidly, breath puffing against your lips. "forgive me?" he asks again, and you find yourself nodding before he even finishes the question.

he turns your head to peck your cheek then drops his hands to finally successfully steal the knife still held in yours. you tip your head, blinking through the daze to inquire what he's doing.

"i can finish that, you know."

"i know," he answers, then flashes you a crooked grin that has your stomach twisting in a way far different than before. "but don't you think you should start planning how you want to trail your hands over me?"

and, oh. part of you wants to hit him for that. but part of you wants to tug him in by the neckpiece he dons and get him to shut up by an alternative method.

as you reach forward to run your hand ever so heedlessly up his chest, a faux illusion of planning your mapping, you think you might just settle on the latter.

likes & reblogs appreciated !

[holyhitter]

screaming crying freaking out jake abel was just announced for the con in my state

[rainybubbles]

Silent- Gaz x plus size reader

Summary : Finding a way to relieve the stress of work in a DnD discord, Gaz meets Silent. A player whose microphone is always turned off, using chat only. Maybe he'll find a way to break the silence with them and finds why their mic is off…

(Sorry in advance, English is not my first language, so sorry if it's bad or OOC.)

-TW social anxiety.

-"What a quiet kid you've got there. I wish mine was as calm at home."

-"Oh, you know, they're pretty mature for their age."

-The laughter faded into distant murmurs as I glanced over at the other kids.

-Yelling, chasing, breaking a vase or two—my eyes couldn't look away from them.

-They seemed to inhabit a world entirely different from mine.

-A world where scraping by at month's end, nightly dinners, locking up the house, solo bus rides, laundry routines, and helping siblings with homework simply didn't exist.

-Because, after all, they were just eight years old.

- But so was I…

-So why didn't I have the right to have fun, yell, chat, ask for sweets, act immature, or doodle on walls?

- My hand reached out briefly, hoping for a connection, but my mom's glance quickly reminded me to stay put…

-Being silent seemed to be the key to earning praise and keeping peace.

-So, I stifled that urge, withdrawing into myself, standing alone behind her legs, engulfed in a heavy silence.

____________

"Silent, huh?"

-My gaze drifted slowly to the chat.

-"Yeah, dude, they're usually a regular on Thursdays. Never says a word, their mic's busted, can't afford to fix it," one of the guys responded.

-The tone carried a hint of disdain.

-I felt out of place.

-Yet, I stayed put, unable to leave the server.

-It was the only place where I felt I could express myself.

-Through words, carefully chosen, controlled, retyped, erased, and sculpted to bring a story to life—a space where my imagination, so often overlooked, could finally roam free.

-By chance, I'd become enamored with Dungeons and Dragons.

- The only snag, of course, was the void in my social life.

-So, like figuring out how long it takes to cook broccoli, I scoured the internet.

- Discord groups organized sessions. I panicked at the sound of mics, voices.

- What would they think of me? What should I say? What could I do? And then someone asked if my mic was broken.

- Ever since, I'd stayed that way, and the nickname Silent stuck.

"Hi Silent, then :) I'm Kyle aka Gaz."

-Usually, I ignored introductions.

- People interested me little, their characters were the interesting ones.

-However, Gaz hadn't spoken those words aloud.

- He had written them. It was stupid honestly, but few people wrote back to me, few people responded to me in writing.

-Everything was done orally.

-Suddenly, someone was on my turf, reaching out.

-The campaign proceeded as usual.

-My thoughts were focused on my actions, the dice rolls, and the resulting outcomes.

- Yet occasionally, I let my eyes wander over Gaz's profile.

________________

-"Hello guys, I don't know if I've played with some of you before or not. "

-"Don't worry, we accept everyone. The days are rarely fixed."

-Gaz was back. It was Friday. It was my favorite group, the game master Ylias really managed to transport you.

-"Well, I'll start then-"

-Ylias started rambling, I followed the story when I noticed a notification in the discord. My finger brushed it, and then ignored it.

-What would he think if I clicked now? that I'm a friendless attention-seeker? But if I wait, they'll think I don't care about the campaign?

-So I waited 5 minutes, trying to find the right balance between the two.

-"Hey, Silent. I missed a campaign without you, the others keep on rambling about their athletics, last time I even had a guy mimicking a goblin with his mic, I'm glad to see you back in text :) !!!"

-Pressure flooded over me. What should I reply? A heart? Thanks? Ignore it? Tell him he's nice too?

-"Thanks."

-Too cold, too short. I thought it wrong, I should delete it, rephrase it, add a smiley, make it warmer, he must think I'm a monster.

-"I think we should try opening the door, are you coming with me? I don’t feel like going into the forest with the rest of the team."

-Oh. Usually in campaigns, I go with the flow, I heal and stay in the background. I never-

-"You need a score of 13 for that, folks". Ylias said.

-"Come on, Silent, roll the dice." Gaz replied

-Nervously, my mouse hovered over the virtual dice. With a score of 15 showing, I heard Gaz's laughter.

-"I knew we had to do it! Let’s go, plus with your stealth, impossible to get spotted. "

-"We'll see about that." Ylias replied, laughing.

-And just like that, Gaz made me smile. It was probably one of the worst campaigns, but it was the first where I could finally choose my actions.

__________________________

-"Back again :) ?"

-" Yes."

-Dry, too dry.

-"I was waiting for you. "Gaz replied.

-" Why? "

-"I don’t want to play a campaign without you, you bring me luck."

-" I'm not sure about that. "

-"Yes. I tried a campaign with colleagues, we died blowing up. "

-"Probably because of your colleagues. "

-"Okay, maybe my colleague set fire to a mystery barrel. But it was their first campaign. "

-"You're recruiting? "

-"Introducing them. He's trying to quit smoking, and I thought DnD could occupy his free time."

-I stopped myself.

-Curiosity, imagination, everything overwhelmed me.

-What was it like to be close to colleagues like this, to freely discuss your passions, to laugh…

-"And then?"

-" It's not his thing, he's more into action. "

-"I see. "

-"It's not for everyone. "

-"Is it your thing? "

-"What? "

-"To let off steam? If your colleague needs it, so do you, right?"

-Stupid. Too personal a question. Invasive.

-"Yes. It allows me not to think, to be someone else."

-" Me too."

-" Plus, being an elf is great."

-" You say that because I am one."

-" Maybe. "

-"Thank you. "

-"For? "

-"Talking in chat. People usually ignore me outside of campaigns, they don't respond by text."

-" They ignore the sexiest elf?"

-" There's no image, you don't know what I look like"

-". Hm, exactly! I imagine your elf tall, muscular like the Rock, hair like Gordon Ramsay's, and maybe makeup like Ru Paul's."

-" I'm not sure about the result. "

-"Sexy."

-I snorted at my screen.

-"Ok."

-" How do you imagine me? "

-"Your wizard? "

-"Yes. "

-"With long hair, maybe dreadlocks, white eyes, and a smile. "

-"A smile?"

-" Your voice sounds soothing. "

-"Really? "

-"Yes, sorry, it's weird to say that, I shouldn't have."

-" No. No. I've never been told that, I was just surprised, that's all."

-" I see. "

-"So, a sexy elf and a smiling mage.

-"Sounds like the beginning of a weird porno."

-He responded with a meme.

_________________________

-"So, what do we decide, Silent? Honestly, I don't want to raid the goblin but the vampire to face, I'm sure the score will be high." Gaz asked through his mic

-"It's your choice, not mine."

-"they're right, Gaz, this one's all on you," Ylias said.

-"Can't I even ask for help?"

-"Score of 15 in insight to spot an ally." Ylias announced.

-Gaz scored a 10. No one addressed me throughout the campaign.

________________________

-"Back, Gaz?" someone said.

-Three weeks of radio silence.

-My mind had been looping, wondering if my refusal to break the rules had driven him to find a more interesting group, a more exciting duo.

-But there he stood, his username glowing green.

-"Yeah, I finally got some days off."

-"Good for you, man."

-"So spill, I see some new names and all!"

-Strangely, his voice had become grating to me. I didn't understand why, so before he could reach me, I disconnected.

- Alone in my apartment, I held my knees to my chest.

-Why am I reacting like this? He's entitled to a life, damn it.

-I fet like he...gave me up.

-Shit it's stupid.

-I didn't understand. I tried to calm myself, but the deafening silence of my apartment seemed to slowly engulf me, and before I knew it, I found myself in a new spiral of anxiety.

____________________________

-There were no campaigns. I just liked reading. Reading what had happened. Living vicariously, imagining their voices, their reactions.

-"hey :)"

-The off-campaign tab was blinking.

-He was addressing me, I knew it, I was the only one online with him.

-My thumb grazed the notification, but I ended up entering the chat.

-"hey."

The period was too harsh, too dry.

-"It's been a while! Something happened?"

-"Work." I answered.

-That's a lie.

- But lying is like oxygen, it's easy to come up with excuses to avoid others.

-But harder to let go of it to face the potential risks of social suffocation.

-"I know quite a bit, just got back from mine."

-"At 1 am?"

-"Yep."

-"Cook?"

"Soldier."

-A shiver ran through me. Uniforms had never been positive in my life.

- As the long seconds passed, I hesitated.

-"Not a fan?" Gaz asked.

-"You could say that."

-"Military family?"he asked.

-"yes."

-"I see."

-"Sorry, that's stupid."

-"No, I understand, I mean, we all have red flags." He said.

-"It's not a red flag."

-"You'd been quiet for 5 minutes."

-"With everyone." I answered.

-"Everyone?"

-"I'm not the best at socializing."

-"Really? Yet when you blew up a castle instead of talking to the princess in a campaign, it seemed normal to me." He joked.

-A laugh escaped.

-"And you?" he asked.

-"Me?"

-"Your job?"

-"Proofreader."

-"For books?"

-"Yes, I read, annotate, and correct."

-"No humans."

-"Exactly."

-"Would you like to add me? I'm not super comfortable with everyone seeing this."

-"Why?"

-Stupid. I should have accepted without questioning.

-"To prevent everyone from knowing the secrets of the sexiest elf on the discord."

-Always there to catch my blunders.

-I accepted it even though suddenly there was added pressure, what to say when there's a pause?

_____________

-"A dragon arrives and—"

-My eyes glanced at my notifications. Kyle was in the campaign but—

-"The narration is terrible, isn't it? The guy has been stuck on the dragon for thirty minutes while Théis killed it."

-He was writing to me. Like someone whispering in your ear during class.

-"Yes, Roxanne is a beginner, but she'll get there."

-"So kind."

-"Not really, one day I insulted a game master."

-"Oooh, a gangster among us?"

-"Never, besides, you'd arrest me, wouldn't you?"

-The ellipses seemed to linger.

-"I wouldn't mind."

-Oh.

-"I don't want to end up in a secret government cave."

-"Caves are old school, we have containers now."

-"I don't know if you're joking."

-"Classified."

-"Gaz…"

-"I'll keep the secret, I think you won't have a choice but to be arrested by me someday."

-"… it won't happen."

-"Why?"

-"I haven't committed any crimes."

-"Not even indecent exposure? I thought you were 45 years old and hiding in bushes naked."

-"For that, I'd have to leave my house."

-"Quite the homebody?"

-"You could say."

-"I'm the same, I don't like going out much."

-It's different. I didn't know what to add, so I let him continue the conversation.

-----------------------------

-"Still into your nerd stuff?"

-Gaz looked up at Soap.

-"It's not nerd stuff." Gaz said.

-"Dragon, princess, elf, discord all mixed together. It's nerd stuff. "Ghost replied

-"Dressing up as a skeleton at Hot Topic too, L.t."

-"Ooh, I wouldn't have liked that. "Soap laughed. "But seriously, don't you think about doing it for real? I mean, gathering around a table."

-"They think about it, but we all live in different parts of the world."

-But it would be amazing. Maybe he could even hear Silent's voice, see them…

-"Hm." Johnny said with a smirk

-"What?"

-"It sounds like you have someone in mind."

-"I don't have anyone in mind."

-"Not even an elf you get along with, Garrick?" Ghost retorted

-"I- we're a duo, it

-"It's different."

-"I mean it, we just get along."

-"So if you check discord in a military bar at 11 p.m., it's not to reply to him second by second?"

-"Shut up," Gaz said as the two laughed.

__________________________

-"You're not participating anymore?"

-I ignored his message.

-Three months.

-Three long months of descent, of confinement, of discomfort, of crises.

-Everything was too much.

-Crowds, outside, errands, people.

-My lungs constricted at the thought of meeting someone's gaze. My eyes avoided every contact. My lips were dry from lack of words.

-"I admit that campaigns suck without you," he had written.

-That was two weeks ago.

-"I refused to play with Théo, he wanted to take your place," he had sent.

-That was three months ago.

-"The office GIF."

-Three weeks.

-He… Gaz had never stopped.

-No matter the views, the winds, his boldness didn't stop.

-I was confused.

-Usually, people quit after a month.

-They had better things to do, and I understood. The burden of my social anxiety was mine and shouldn't inconvenience them.

-So why was Gaz standing there carrying this burden unknowingly? Coming back every day, bearing a heavier load…

-"hey."

-Three letters.

-Too short.

-Too dry.

-"Sorry." I continued.

-For what?

-I didn't deserve his forgiveness, I knew it.

-"Glad to see you're back :)" he replied.

-A tear rolled down my cheek.

-"thank you." I replied by text.

-For staying.

-For not asking questions.

-For welcoming me.

______________

-"Sorry, I was at the hospital, do you think I can join the campaign or not?" he had sent.

-My eyebrows raised.

-"No. Wait, you're just out of the hospital and your concern is DnD?"

-"I should really stay by my favorite elf's side."

-"Gaz, seriously, are you okay?"

-"Fractured ribs."

-"Ouch."

-"Broken arm."

-"Wait, what—"

-"And a bullet in the thigh."

-"Wtf."

-"But I'm fine."

-"No."

-"I assure you, I've had worse."

-"And???? You need to rest, not focus on rolling dice to defeat Mindflyers."

-"…but I have no distractions."

-"I'm here."

-"You're in the campaign."

-"No."

-"Wait, what—"

-"I- I saw you were absent so I didn't…join that one."

-"But you only play on that day."

-"I know. But it's not the same without you."

-I didn't know he was currently smiling like an idiot.

-"Thanks, Silent."

-"No worries. Besides, I was also coming out of the hospital."

-"WHAT?! Why didn't you start with that?!"

-"It's ridiculous."

-"No, are you okay?"

-"It's awkward."

-"Oh, serious awkward or-?"

-"No, I'm used to it. I- I took the tram and I couldn't handle it, the crowd was too big, I passed out inconveniencing a hundred people, embarrassing."

-"That's not embarrassing."

-"Yes, I made people late, Gaz."

-"And??? It was for your health."

-"No, I should've known I couldn't handle taking the tram. It's been two years since I couldn't do it, I shouldn't have tried again."

-"Two years?"

-Shit. I said too much.

-"Forget that."

-"Wait, no. You help distract me when I'm on base, I can listen to you in return :)! "

-"There's nothing to say, I don't handle social stuff, that's all."

-"So, your mic, that's it?"

-"Yes."

-"My sister has it too."

-"Has what?"

-"Social anxiety."

-"I see."

-"I know it's different for everyone, but don't give up. Honestly, it's a huge step, right? Taking the tram after two years. Surely you wouldn't succeed all at once, I mean it's like rolling a 20-sided die hoping for a 35."

-I snorted.

-"Nerd."

-"You're a nerd too, Silent."

-"yes, I- I just thought I could succeed, tell myself I could do it."

-"You did it."

-"I passed out."

-"So what? next time can't be worse."

-"Yes, if I have another one."

-"Then you'll have another one, I'm sure you'll manage. Look, I can even show you a tutorial."

-I furrowed my brows and saw a video. A man in an apartment, a cast on one arm, his face cut off from the frame.

-"Quick tutorial for falling on a tram. So lesson 1, stand next to a tall person. We want a good pillow when we fall, so tall people are perfect. Then manage the fall. Fall on the person, not forward. We want to avoid a bloody nose. Especially if there are vampires on the horizon." Gaz said in the video.

-He lay on the ground pretending to fall.

-"Step three, play dead to see sexy firefighters and avoid stares, and step 4 get taken home while flexing in the truck."

-I snorted.

-"Wow, thanks for the tutorial."

-"I know, I know. Passing out pro here."

-"Do you often fall on fridges?"

-"Hm, considering the build of my colleagues, you could say that."

-"Are they as tall and wide as a fridge?"

-"My L.T. yes. With Soap, we even thought he was an android, I mean it's not human to be that built."

-"You look fit too."

-"Oh, a compliment?"

-"Gaz, I-"

-"But yes, honestly, I try to do his routine but I think his genetics play a big part."

-"Shame, no Fridge Gaz then."

-"No, you'll have to settle for Normal Gaz."

-A smile slowly spread across my face.

-"Thanks for the video, it was funny."

-"You're welcome. Plus, if I can flex with my favorite elf."

-"I'm not an elf."

-"Nothing proves me wrong."

-"Gaaaaaazzzz"

____________________________

-"Who are you posing for? "

-"No one."

-" So shirtless, sunlight, flexed arms for no one? Damn, don't tell me it's for your mom. "

-"SOAP!"

-" I'm just asking, man."

-" It's for Silent. "

-"Oh, your magical voiceless elf."

-" It's not— "

-"Yes, yes, not a magical elf, I know, no need to give me another DnD lecture."

-Gaz sighed.

-His selfie was good.

-Shirtless, in the sand, sun rising.

-He looked good.

-But he was nervous.

-What if it was too much?

-After all, this little game of sending each other sunrises or sunsets had started by chance.

-Silent had told him the view was beautiful and sent him a sunset from their window.

-Gaz replied with one from Las Almas, and eventually whenever he went to a new country, he would send a photo.

-But now… maybe it was too much?

-Sending his face.

-Price would kill him.

-But he wanted to progress the relationship.

-Maybe his face could appeal to Silent, they would send him a voice note or even a selfie back?

-"Is this too much? "

-"Hm? "Soap asked confused.

-"This photo, is it too much? "

-"For a thirst trap?"

-" To say hello."

-" It depends on the hello. "

-"Hello as in "I'm showing you my face for the first time." "

-"Oh, maybe. I thought it was a "hello, did you sleep well because look what I could bring to your bed" kind of thing. …But if I received this photo, I'd be happy. "

-"Soap. "

-"I mean, man, you're handsome."

-" Soap. "

-"Plus, who would say no to your abs? "

-"No need to- you know what, I'll send it. "

-"Also, you—"

-Gaz ignored him and sent it.

-Damn, he hoped everything would be fine.

________________________

-Beautiful.

-Too beautiful.

-My eyes scanned that smile not knowing what to do.

- How could someone like that end up playing DnD?

-I closed the conversation.

-I am…. Out of his league.

-So much.

-I could barely bring myself to look at my mirror.

-I knew what I would see there.

- My rolls, my thighs, my stretch marks, my horrible hair, this disproportionate face.

-I'm not ugly.

- But I'm not…I'm not like him

-. I'm the second choice, I'm aware of that.

-I don't get free compliments.

- Nobody turns back to look at me. I'm just…there.

-And him.

- He seemed so radiant, so kind. Damn, I wasted his time.

__________________________

-"So? " Soap asked

-"It's been two weeks with no response."

-" Ouch. "

-"It's not— Sometimes it happens, I think they are doubting."

-" Doubting what? "

-"Themselves. They…before every message, they take 5 minutes to rewrite it, every syllable is thought out and then I send this out of nowhere, I didn't handle it well."

-" You couldn't have known, Kyle. "

-"Yes. YES, I could and I messed up. They told me about their anxiety and then I send them a half-naked photo when I've never even heard their voice. "

-"Try to talk to them then. hmph."

_____________________

-"hey."

-My eyes hesitated.

-"hey." I finally replied

-" For the selfie, I can explain. "

-"No, I- it's not your fault."

-" Yes, honestly, I screwed up" he texted back

-". No, I've been looping again. "

-"You- "

-"seeing you, it was…good, really, but too good." I answered.

-" Too good?"

-"I feel- Illegitimate to talk to you. "

-"what- "

-"You're so- beautiful, and smiling and nice, and the only thing I do is disappear for days and turn up out of the blue. I-"

-" And it's okay, we talked about it." he said.

-" But you deserve better as friends."

-" I decide what I deserve, Silent. And no one beats you. "

-"…I- I don't know what to say. "

-"Send me your sunset :) I haven't had mine."

-Damn. A tear rolled down and I took my phone and sent my sunset. How can someone be so adorable?

-"Perfect." he replied

_________________

-He had continued to send his face on the sunsets. It was stupid, but I waited every time he could and I rewatched them.

-However, it had been three months of silence. I wasn't worried, he was probably on a mission somewhere.

-By a stroke of courage, I had put my phone down to take a photo with the sunset.

-He wouldn't see it. I would delete it.

-But for a moment, I felt beautiful. The sunlight on me warmed me, my outfit was cute, my curves were beautiful.

-I sent it. I would delete it tomorrow. After all, Kyle had said it could last four months.

___________

-"Hey, everything alright, mate?"

-"They're amazing."

-"Lasswell or tony ? For Lasswell of course, why do you think her wife is—"

-"Look."

-Soap raised an eyebrow and glanced at Kyle's phone.

-"Oh, oh."

-Kyle couldn't tear his eyes away from his screen

-. During the mission return, he had picked up his phone and seen a notification. Clicking out of habit, he saw it.

-their smile, their hair, their body. My god.

-"Lucky bastard." Soap said.

-They were perfect. And their belly, their hips, everything was beautiful. Kyle had always preferred curvy people, it was a fact.

-Sure, he had imagined that silently they could be one, but the fact that it was true… It filled his heart with joy.

-"They… damn. "he murmured, zooming in on every detail.

-Mole or freckle, he observed every pixel.

_____________________

-"So the elf wasn't the only one sexy." he texted.

-I raised an eyebrow at the notification as I woke up.

-"Hm?"

-"The photo. "he replied.

-Oh fuck.

-"You saw it?"

-"Yes, I shouldn't have?"

-"I thought of deleting it before, I—"

-"Oh."

-"But did you like it?"

-"Yes. you— I— honestly, I can't stop looking at it. you look radiant."

-He was lying. -No?

-"And that outfit is amazing on you, really."

-It hugs everything, why… why is he complimenting that?

-Usually, people say "those jeans make you look thinner than you are" "you look better in loose clothes" "hide your rolls".

-"Thank you."

-" I have to admit I'm so relieved. I mean if you ended up being a 40-year-old, I wouldn't have been so confident I think."

-"Oh really, wrinkles and gray hair aren't your thing?"

-"No, I'm more into curves and people my age."

-"Damn, I was about to confess that I was 70 years old". I joked.

-"I can make exceptions, but only for elves."

-"I'm lucky then."

-"Very. I— I hope to have more, or occasionally."

-"Of?"

-"Photos of you, it's more beautiful than a sunset."

"-oh."

-A warmth spread to my cheeks, a smile settling in.

-"ok."

-"ok?"

-"Okay."

___________________

-"Do you think I'll hear your voice someday?"

-It was late, or early for him and late for me.

-"I don't know."

-showing my face in a photo…

-I could control that, take back the photo, delete it, edit it. But talking…

-Talking is taking up space.

-"I imagine it smooth."

-"My voice?"

-"Hm, like a stream, it rocks slowly."

-"I might have a smoker's voice."

-"That would suit you too."

-"Maybe one day then."

-"I'm looking forward to that."

_____________________

-Those were the last words sent from him.

-No more contact.

-His absence wasn't due to missions, he had confessed to me that he was off the day before.

-So he had decided to stop.

-I tried to find excuses, before accepting the reality of it.

-Days passed and I hoped he would come back.

-Maybe he was like me, needing time to recover.

-Maybe he was hurt.

-Everything was silent.

-When four months had finally passed, I understood.

-He had grown tired of the silence. I held back a sob and closed the discussion.

-A stab wound would have been better I think.

-To ease the constant pain and intense questions in my mind.

-What had I done wrong? Was I too much? Did I ask the wrong question? Should I have kept quiet?

-Everything was spinning and I finally closed the app. damn.

_____________________________

-My feet led me to the publishing house.

-Today I had to make the final corrections for Madame Lasswell before her vacation with her wife Kate.

-Hesitant, I knocked on her door.

-An "enter" was heard and I entered the already crowded room.

- A mustached man in a beanie, a masked man, a mullet, Kate, and Gaz were watching me.

-My eyes betrayed my surprise at his presence. What was he doing here? Why now? How should I react?

-"Y/n, sorry for the crowd. I guess you have it."

-"Yes ma'am."

-My voice barely above a whisper was usual for Jocelyn. I handed her the manuscripts.

-"We're going to drink at the bar downstairs, do you want to come?"

-Come? To a crowded place, surrounded by drunk people, constant noise, blinding lights with the icing on the cake being a guy who blew me off for the year?

-"No, I'm busy tonight, sorry."

-"No problem."

-Slowly my heels turned, I took the elevator but I heard footsteps. Kyle was with me.

-"I was on a mission."

-"hm."

-"I know I told you no, but he… there were quite a few problems and I had to leave, I didn't have time to warn you, it dragged on, Ghost broke my phone by sitting on it with his stupid hard ass, and we just got back from the airport actually. Lasswell, Kate finally— she works with us so that's why I'm here"

-A silence stretched, he took a breath.

-"you didn't have to explain… I mean after the word mission, I understood I was wrong."

-"I wanted to be clear."

-"I should have asked and sent you messages."

-"No, it's okay, it must have seemed suspicious. I ask for your voice, you say no, and I disappear. The conclusion was logical."

-"but it wasn't the right one."

-"It's okay, we're here, aren't we?"

-"yes."

-The elevator rang, the door opened. Hesitant, I watched him.

-"I love it." -"hm?"

-"your voice."

-"Oh."

-"I… you're really busy tonight or…"

-"No, I just don't like…"

-"The crowd."he guessed

-"Hm."

-"I— I can invite you for dinner? At my place, we'll grab takeout, no crowds, no one to see us."

-"That sounds like the pitch of a serial killer."

-He widened his eyes. I snorted.

-"Okay, you got me." he chuckled.

-" At your place sounds good. Better than a restaurant." I admitted.

-"Cool, so…"

-"Shall we go then, yes". I murmured as he finally released the elevator button and we stepped out of the elevator.

_________________

-At his place, everything was calm.

-Not me.

-How should I stand? Too close? Too far? What to talk about? And what if I'm boring in the end? What to order? Does he like seafood or is he allergic? My eyes focused on every detail and…

-Everything's fine.

-His hand on mine, he took the initiative for the restaurant to order, asking me my preferences, and we waited for the delivery guy.

-Slowly, he asked questions about my work. I mastered it.

-And slowly everything unfolded naturally.

-Sitting on his couch, his hand not letting go of mine, he drew circles with his thumb while talking.

-I liked that. In groups, I liked… listening.

-People like to talk about themselves and I like listening to that, not participating, and Gaz understood that in such an impressive way.

-Occasionally, he asked questions in return, gauging my desire to speak, I answered and this back and forth held until the food arrived.

-Maybe everything would turn out for the best.

-Standing in front of his door, I didn't know what to add to this evening.

-A not-so-stranger, three years of virtual chat and now I was unable to figure out the right goodbye on his doorstep.

-Hesitant, we observed each other.

-"I hope we'll do this again."

-"Yes. "I replied.

-He stepped forward.

-I remained still, his face close to mine. -Kiss? Cheek? Goodbye? Whisper? -Which action would he choose? -I wished for a dice to decide, a title, or a "Gaz approves".

-"May I?"

-Oh. -I nodded. -His hands on my hips, he placed a brief kiss on my lips. -"I'm glad we managed to break the silence." -"me too."

-Perhaps, after all, I wouldn't return to my solitary silence tonight. His hands guiding me back to his apartment and the door closing behind us.

-I could easily guess that a die had just been thrown for a long evening and we both seemed to have the right score.

If you want more my COD Masterlist

[bsydelver]

PART 2- Tamaki Amajiki x Alt/gothic reader.

———>part 1

COLLAB WITH @wolvwa <333 (best plot inventor for real)

MAY BE OOC BUT BARE WITH ME.

Note: Okay, Im actually kinda excited for this chapter bcs Wolfa made such a cute plot for this part so trust us please with this one even if I barely write/wrote fluff 🙏

Warnings (?): Writer should not be labelled a writer, english isn’t my first language, reader slowly falls in love kinda, Mirio and Nejire just being Tamaki’s friends idk how to explain, reader is cute lowkey wanna be Tamaki (hj)

Summary: The four of you are hungry and go to a nice place then follow up and buy things from the cafeteria on campus until something happens and- okay just read.

As Mirio stepped in, a call for him that Nejire did and filled the room with followed. Tamaki lifted his head up too to look at Mirio who was visibly waiting for the room to calm down before fixing his mouth to say anything. Before you could greet him, you couldn’t help but notice the huge bag he was carrying on his back: what would a student be carrying that was this big for some chill out at a dorm with friends, you being you of course, you chose to question him about it; you always started your known interrogations with something simple, “Hey Mirio!” Nejire and Mirio both looked at you and it didn’t take long before Tamaki joined them (he couldn't miss this opportunity after all), “Y/n! How are you?” Mirio replied back, it was simple as you had initially expected- that exact moment was the time to actually ask: “If you don’t mind me asking; your bag looks rather bigger today, what do you exactly have in there?” your tone came off concerned for some reason which made the two other people who had been present before Mirio’s entrance in the dorm at that moment seem even more invested than you were, “Oh yeah!” Mirio let down his bag which kind of made a loud bang on the floorboards but it was much quieter than you predicted it would be actually, “I brought a board game for us to play,” as Mirio said that, you could see stars form in Nejire’s eyes and you couldn’t resist letting out a half smile: they were your closest friends after all and seeing them happy made you happy as well.

Due to Nejire’s obvious excitement, al though not expressed by her directly, Mirio layed out the game without any context and just ordered you guys to pair up into two groups of two people- but he basically hadn’t given you the choice as he had picked Nejire immediately, leaving you and Tamaki. Dice started rolling and true rivalry begun, there was nothing labelled as friendship when it came to you and the group’s board game matches. The only trustable person you had was Tamaki and you didn’t want to waste that, you both gave each other mutual ‘time to finish this’ glances through out the games and a few smiles as well, mostly from your side- but Tamaki had mustered up the courage a few times to actually form some as well. The thing that intrigued you the most though during this intense game were the (not-very-well-hidden) hidden smirks and glances Mirio and Nejire gave Tamaki: were the three of them planning on 3 versus 1 against you, were you just that good?! You decided not to look too much into it though as one hour had went by and your victory was officially confirmed and Mirio packed up the board with a quote-on-quote “disappointed face” that you just scoffed at in a playful manner. You looked at the person who preformed amazingly, Tamaki, and signaled him to do a fist bump which resulted in a few seconds of silence before he raised his fist up to complete the bump part of it.

Mirio’s stomach rumble escaped as he was putting the game back in his bag, you rolled your eyes and did a small giggle, “I heard this new place opened and does deliveries to our campus and we don’t need approval if I remember correctly since they partnered with principal Nezu!” You blurted out in order for you not to seem evil for that giggle that came out from you earlier accidentally (or on purpose, only you knew the answer to that); the group all agreed to your suggestion and after you contacted that new restaurant, you all ran out of the dorm with the idea that by the time you reach the drop off spot at campus, the order would be there.

You guys were right for once actually and you took the order and rushed to your ‘signature’ bench to eat there before anybody else could sit there and claim the place. Everyone slowly opened their order like it was some mysterious box, and they technically were since you had never tried from this place. You noticed that Tamaki had looked at you before taking a bite of his meal, you just smirked at the thought of it and how cute yet simple he was, both were traits you never thought would be coming from him at the time you didn’t know him as much (maybe cute but on a minimal scale, MAYBE). Everyone was digging in, especially Mirio, and you could tell it wouldn’t be the last time you guys would order from that place. Everyone’s mouthes were too full to say anything, all of you guys basically looked like hamsters with nut-stuffed cheeks that were puffed out; Tamaki pulled out a tissue as he chewed and after he swallowed, you could see him start mouthing something to you, “Y/n,” he didn’t continue and just pointed at a spot on his own left cheek, it was obvious now that you think about it but at that moment you were too focused on something else to process what Tamaki was hinting towards. Tamaki layed down his food and took off his gloves, still holding the same tissue, and leaned towards you- gently wiping the parallel spot on your face which he had been pointing at on his own face previously, his fingers were cold yet gave you warmth and before you could thank him: he pulled a similar product to the one you used for your makeup and handed it to you, "I carry this with me just in case of emergencies for you," you smiled at the small yet thoughtful gesture and properly thanked him after swallowing your food which you had been slowly chewing on since Tamaki’s wiping without taking notice.

You all headed back to your dorm and not Nejire’s this time after the much-needed meal with initial plans on a movie night with snacks- recommended by Nejire and Mirio. Something was missing though; it was the snacks part of the whole thing, Nejire quickly took action for this horrible “mistake” she had done and informed you and the group that her and Mirio would be going out to buy some and that Mirio needed to go out anyways to get his bag from Nejire’s dorm. You closed the door behind them with an exhale and looked behind you to find the indigo-haired boy sitting on the floor of your room in awe of the uniqueness of it, there was a contrast between you and him: he was always really quiet and just kept to himself unless you were really close to him and you found that fascinating to you, but you were open about your personality and interests and that always seemed to amaze Tamaki and admire you. Your footsteps quickly cut his observation off though and he had realized you both were alone and for God knows how long you’d be, Nejire and Mirio were menaces for this and they knew exactly what they were doing. You looked down at the distressed Tamaki and decided to sit down beside him to offer some comfort if needed, “Wait I have an idea,” something came over you and you opened the record player you had to practically beg the school to allow for months before they actually did to play ‘Lucretia My reflection’ (wr:sorry had to pull out one of my favs) you put out your hand for Tamaki and pulled him up and started moving ‘with’ him to the beat, you realized he was lost though and decided to take it upon yoursef to be the one to teach him dancing. You told him to follow along with your steps and taught him all you knew and all with a smile on both of your faces. Tamaki was always captivated by you, everything about you felt so different to him yet attractive and to have the opportunity to participate in the uniqueness you carried within you was an honor to him.

[agonizedembrace]

( ily too mwah )

[eyedoeluhn]

I haven’t mentioned the other Celestial (x)s before, so let’s actually run through the three main ones as well as what the Celestial Forge even is. I’m not counting ones like the Celestial Bakery because that’s tiny it’s like eight perks. The CM is my favorite, the CF is…actually not that bad. The CG….

The Celestial Forge is a collection of Jumpchain perks loosely (emphasis on) based around crafting.

A jumpchain, for the uninitiated, is a story prompt game thing where you write a character (most commonly self inserts or ocs) as the ‘jumper’ someone who travels fictional universes at the behest of a random omnipotent being’s entertainment or whatnot. unsurprisingly, I’m not the fondest of them. The power system is in collections of Jumpchain documents which lay the rules ( perks, drawbacks, items, settings, etc) of each universe. These are made independently and are not explicitly balanced. This balance gets more and more wildly out of wack the more jumps you do and the explicit end point of a jumpchain is to become comparably powerful as a ROB by finding a ‘spark’ perk (used to be a specific one but now there are multiple). Sure, jumpchains can end at any point but most people enjoy numbers go-up too much. My favorite wildly unbalanced jumpchains are things like random sitcom shows because oh my god you will find the wildest powers in there. My personal favorite is a free perk that allows you to take command of a vessel and instantly everyone inside or on that vessel will do everything you command no matter what, which is honestly pretty tame but extremely funny.

The CF is a bunch of these Uber powerful perks mashed together into one document. It’s unbalanced, it’s not great for a narrative, its most popular work is BCF, it doesn’t have the greatest PR in my eyes. However I don’t think it’s completely unsalvageable. Some tweaking of points, ignoring powers that ruin your story,and an author who is discerning enough to focus on plot rather than word count could make a fine fic even if it has yet to be done. Also I would prune a lot of powers to make it an actual focus on tinkering.

also, side note, why the fuck are there so many versions on google docs? I understand Jumpchain documents are usually docs but they’re like five pages and some pictures not like eight hundred pages of text. Christ.

The Celestial Grimore is a collection of ‘magic perks’ which are so extremely unbalanced Im not sure how this would even be written. There’s a section devoted to rolling entire near universal compendiums of all knowledge of fictional universes. Basically any magic system, ki, chakra, mana, is in there and it’s terrible. Magic is already a really esoteric and broad power system to bring in OOC especially and putting basically no limits on it and ascribing a million ways to use it doesn’t help. The magic parks of the Forge are its weakest because the technobabble is at least hypothetically interesting and I have no real interest in the Grimoire. Also Got The Grimoire Now What…it did not leave a good impression on me. While at least it’s in a spreadsheet it’s not that readable and looking at it for a minute was enough for me to say it would need extreme pruning or a strong specific central narrative. This is probably the least salvageable of all of the celestials.

The Celestial Menagerie is the odd one out of the bunch. It drops the perk system entirely to be a summons based power where you primarily roll for creatures from real life or fiction. Well I wouldn’t call it perfectly balanced it is the hardest C(X) to become setting breaking imo. It’s the neatest as well, being a pretty google sheets with a built in dice roller and color coding. Well I would make some edits, generally to the powers section to preserve the squishy summoner, you start with limits on how far your summons can get away and how many you summon at once and so on. It’s also my favorite because it allows for some very funny builds, two of my own personal favorites are a guy who has no summons for several thousand words but knows a lot about farming, and on a more punishing rule set a guy who can summon one (1) flea.

The Celestial Menagerie also has the current best C(X) fic, Brocktons Zoo of Myth and Legend. My god do I love BZML. I read it in one sitting, live reacting with my Buddy and we genuinely could not guess where the plot would go next. It’s hilarious and the author makes several extremely respectable choices and values the plot over useless powerwank. It has its problems but in this genre…also most of those problems were extremely endearing anyways. I’ll probably make a post about it at some point but I would recommend reading it blind.

There’s also another c(x) that me and said friend have been playing with that’s deeply stupid on purpose but I’ll wait for some context posts before pitching it.

[sketchy-rosewitch]

Sore Fucking Losers: Rusty Nail x f!reader

Warnings: little ooc Rusty, gore, mutilation, multiple character deaths, crying, physical, mental, and emotional abuse, mentions of rape. Read my post about the Dice Game. It has all the rules. I’ve decided to roll dice to get this written.

Minors DNI +18

Dead Dove Do Not Eat

A/N: This is probably the grossest thing I’ve written.

Masterlist

“I don’t know why you have to be such a dick all the time.” You mumble, arms crossed and brows scowling as you mess with a wrapper on the car floor with your foot.

“It’s a fucking joke. Get over yourself.” Your boyfriend says, pushing you hard into the car door. He tries to play it off as a joke with the rest of his friends in the car, it works easily on them. They don’t exactly like you.

“Yeah come on, you’re being a bitch.” Luke says, you try and ignore his remark and look out the window.

“Yeah but when isn’t she.” Shanda giggles, the rest of the car laughs along with her. Shanda says shit just to say it. You know she’s been jealous of you and Xavier being together and honestly, she could have him. You’re sure she is having him, he always jumps to her defense but never to yours.

“Gas station up ahead, gonna fill up and we can take a break.” Xavier says.

About five minutes later he parks at a gas pump, Luke, Shanda, and Riley get out and go inside the gas station, you get out once you see them inside but Xavier stops you. He grabs your upper arm and pulls you towards him. Like a parent lecturing their child, he mumbles in your ear.

“Better shut the fuck up for the rest of the trip and stop being such a bitch. You’re embarrassing the hell outta me. I’ll fuck you up if you try any of that shit again, okay?”

You nod frantically. You feel as his grip tightens in a warning before letting go.

“Sitting here acting like a damn pussy. Live a little.” You notice his eyes roll before you turn around quickly walk into the gas station. You head towards the restroom and your stomach churns as you notice only you and Shanda are in there. She smirks and you try and avoid her by going into the nearest stall.

The black haired girl is quick to grab your forearm and shove you into the restroom counter. “You’re so fucking embarrassing. Can’t wait for Xavier to break up with you. You don’t deserve him. Surprised he even chose someone like you. Fucking Virgin. You sit there in your dorm room all day, can’t even kiss a man correctly. You’re pathetic. Xavier needs something more. Guess it’s a good thing he has me.” Shanda pulls your hair. You don’t do anything about it, knowing who’s side everyone would take.

She lets go and leaves. You move into one of the stalls to use the toilet.

You wash your hands and take a breather before heading out the door.

Something feels off as you walk outside to the pumps. You look around before noticing your shit scattered all over the pavement. Your boyfriend’s car out of sight.

You blink multiple times trying to make sense of what just happened. You walk over to your stuff and gather it up so you can easily carry it to the curb. You sigh and check your phone for cell service. You’d have to call your mom, you didn’t have enough money for a plane ticket.

Nothing, you frown. You’d have to go to the next town for it.

You should’ve guessed they would’ve left you. They made fun of everything you did and everything you didn’t do. They were just straight up assholes. You pinch the bridge of your nose in embarrassment before looking up and around again. You need to find a ride into the closest town.

You see a tall man, hands shoved in his pockets walking away from his semi truck.

This is so risky.

“Sir! Excuse me!” You wave at him and walk over quickly, but nervously. He stops and looks like he’s glaring at you. You can’t see his eyes though, so you wouldn’t know. Your voice shakes. “I’m so sorry for bothering you. I uh, need a ride to the next town over. The gas station doesn’t have cell service and I need to call my mom.” You explain. The man is quiet. “I can pay you if you need-“

“No need. I’ll give you a ride, lemme get’a pack a’ smokes real quick.” He grumbles. You nod quickly and move aside to let him get into the small store. You grab your two bags and hurry to the truck.

The gears in your head turn, you’ve seen this truck before. You know it. Same state plate and truck color, the logo is all the same too.

This is the truck Xavier almost ran off the road.

“Need help with your bags, hun?” The deep voice makes you jump. You turn wide eyed and the man almost seems more menacing.

“Yes! Yes if you don’t mind!”

The man opens the truck door and grabs your bags, placing them between the passenger and driver’s seat, he then slides over and you get in after him. You slam the door shut and buckle in.

He starts the truck and heads back onto the road.

“I didn’t get your name.” You say, trying to be polite. You relax into the car seat and he answers.

“Just call me Rusty. Yours?”

You introduce yourself with a kind smile, then it turns to a frown after thinking about Xavier. “I should probably apologize for earlier.” Your hands fumble with your jacket zipper, from the corner of your eye you see Rusty tilts his head. You continue, “My boyfriend… well I guess ex boyfriend now, he almost drove you off the road. I recognized your truck. He was being real fucking stupid with his driving and I yelled at him. Him and his friends got mad at me, asked him why he had to be such a dick. Pushed me into the door of the car.” You scoff.

“Ah that was you guys? You help me find them I might teach em a thing or two.” Rusty says, you furrow your brows and look him up and down. What’s the worse that could happen?

“Yeah sure, they’re supposed to be stopping at a motel a few hours from here.”

-

“So what are we planning on doing to them?” You ask unlocking the motel room door.

“We?” Rusty steps to the side and shuts the door.

“I mean yeah we, they’re pieces of shit. I wanna help. Little bit of revenge on my part, it’ll make me feel better after already wasting two years with them.” You explain plopping down on one of the queen sized beds in the room. Rusty leans on the table and crosses his arms.

“You sure? I tell you what’s gonna happen, but you better not run, you run you’re dead.” Rusty admits, your stomach churns slightly.

“I swear I will not run, I won’t even tell anyone.” You cross your heart like a child and he chuckles.

“Gonna play some games with them. Only about an hour until my place, we’re bringing them there, playing my favorite game and that’s it.”

You furrow your brows and let out a scoff. “That’s it? You had me all scared and shit Rusty. Ain’t gotta worry ‘bout me ruining from some fucking game.” You stand up and playfully push his shoulder, you see his mouth is still resting in a frown.

“How you think we’re getting them there hun? You think they’re just gonna do as I say? Get in their car and drive there?” Rusty says darkly. Worry crosses your features, your hands tingle and you wipe the hand you pushed Rusty with up and down your jeans nervously.

“I- uh guess I didn’t think of that.” You mumble.

“I know you didn’t. S’okay, we can play two games at once to make you feel less guilty. Hate to drag you inta all a’this. You won’t be playin’ the main game. You’ll just watch.” Rusty explains.

“What’s the second game?”

“You decide that.”

-

You watch Rusty sleep, not being able to sleep yourself after given the options for the second game. Some part of you felt guilty for what would happen to your ex and his friends. But another part of you told you to suck it up cause they’d done so much worse to you.

-

“Hey, hey!”

You bolt up and pant, looking around frantically.

Rusty’s hand holds your shoulder in an almost comforting way.

“Why don’t you go ahead and wait in the truck for me, yeah? Don’t gotta help.”

You look at him with tired eyes and nod, yawning and stretching you get up and pull your shoes on shuffling towards the door.

-

You stare at the four people passed out in the back, hands tied and mouths gagged. It won’t be long before you’re back. You smirk and decide to get more sleep.

-

You sit in a barn, off to the side from the table Xavier and his friends sit at. They’re all slowly waking up. As soon as they realize they’re not where they’re supposed to be they panic.

They look like fish out of water. You try not to laugh. Your hands are loosely tied in front. This is your game, makes you feel less guilty. Rusty promised you wouldn’t ever play his game and he kept his promise with loose rope and observing away from the table. The chair sits so you can see everyone.

Rusty comes in about a half an hour later. Snot is running down Xavier’s nose as he cries.

“What do you want with US?” Your ex’s voice cracks as he lets out a nasty sob.

“You like to play games?” Rusty mumbles.

“W-hat?”

“I said, YOU LIKE TO PLAY GAMES?” Rusty’s voice booms, it startles you a bit. Your stomach rolls. Shanda let’s put a whine.

“I- fuck I guess?!” Xavier whimpers.

“You guess?! You fucking guess?! Weren’t you the one seeing if you could knock me off the road?” The broad man grabs Xavier’s chin.

“No! No! That was, ugh.” You see Rusty’s finger tips go white as he grips the younger man’s face harder. “It was her! She’s the one who gave the idea!” Xavier points towards you and you scowl. The rest of them nod and your chest tightens your teeth bare back in defense.

“Mm, just don’t think that’s true. But we’ll let God decide whether you’re a liar or not. Through my favorite game. Whatever you roll the person across from you gets.” Rusty pulls a pair of dice out of his pocket. “Roll pretty boy.” He says throwing them towards Xavier.

“Well what about her?” Luke asks.

“Occupied, already have her playing a game.”

Xavier hesitantly grabs the die as he watches Rusty. His hands visibly shake as he rolls.

Eight.

Rusty walks to a shelf next to you and smirks. “Ear.” He grabs a razor and walks over to the person across from Xavier, Luke.

Luke whimpers. “Please! You don’t have to do this! We- we’re sorry! You can let us go and we’ll forget all about this! Won’t even contact the police!” Luke gags, his cries make Rusty laugh. Your stomach churns. This really is your reality. You’re going to watch your exe’s friends get tortured and possibly die.

Rusty shows the blade in Luke’s face and turns it. His cries turn into hysterical sobs, Rusty cuts down his ear, and blood flows out, everyone around the table gags and sobs trying to turn away until it’s done.

Rusty slams the ear on the table and moves the die to Riley.

Nine. Freedom.

“Lucky, lucky.” Rusty’s voice rumbles. “Got some decisions to make here girl.” Everyone looks at Shanda. “You got a minute to untie all your friends and run or you can just save yourself.” Rusty goes behind Shanda’s chair and begins untying her. “Times a ticking though.”

Shanda is untangled from her chair and gets up, looking around frantically she makes a run for the barn doors. Her friends cry out for her but she ignores them. Rusty watches his watch for 60 seconds. When time is up he grabs a shotgun then moves the die to Luke. He’s barely conscious. “Roll, I wanna see what I’m lookin’ forward to when I get back.”

Luke lazily takes the die and rolls. Ten. Eye. Rusty nods and makes his way out the same barn doors Shanda was running from.

It isn’t long until a gunshot is heard and Rusty is dragging a dead woman back inside. He goes over to a shelf and grabs a melon baller. You cringe at the feeling going through your body.

Xavier sobs. “No, no please! Please! Baby! Do something about this please! Don’t you love me? Don’t you care?” Xavier looks at you in the eyes and you scoff, so sick of his bullshit.

“Why should I give a fuck? You never gave a fuck about me, never defended me. You never broke it off with me and threatened me when I tried to! You just wanted control! Now you don’t have it and you’re a fucking pussy! Trying to say how sorry you are. You aren’t sorry, you never will be. Fuck if I care what happens to you!”

Your hands slip through the restraints and you get up grabbing a fistful of Xavier’s shirt. “You gonna keep spewing lies Xavier? Always are, talking about I’m a virgin and shit! Ain’t even gonna tell any of them how you forced yourself on me MULTIPLE godamn times! Fuck you!” You grab the dice and roll. “You get this too. Four for Chest.” You laugh.

“Go ahead Rusty. I’ll be in the house.” You say beginning to walk out of the barn.

-

Rusty comes in hours later, his shirt, pants, and jean jacket are stained. You get up and walk over to him.

“They ain’t bothering’ you no more.”

“Good, Rusty?”

He looks down at you.

“Is it okay if I stay with you for awhile? I’ll call my mom about Xavier leaving me and just say I found a Bed and Breakfast to stay at and vacation in for a few weeks. Then I’ll head back home. I’m just- not ready yet I guess, I need time to process everything.” You explain, your body tenses up waiting for Rusty to answer.

“Sure. You stay as long as you need to. You swear on your life you ain’t tell in’ no one?”

“I swear. You can drag me down with you. Thank you so much. This isn’t a common occurrence though is it?” You ask genuinely.

“I try to not bring my issues back home. That’s all I’ll tell you.”

“Just don’t wanna get caught up in more shit.”

“Of course.”

[certifiedtrashmouth]

Number 57! (PS: rolled my dnd dice for this, and this is what the universe selected.)

TRACK 57 - would’ve, could’ve, should’ve by taylor swift (eddie munson x reader)

a/n: my jaw DROPPED when i saw what this number was. curse you and your dice (not really ily thank you for sending this in). and as expected, this one is going to come with some warnings. buckle in.

warnings: angst, smut (oral mainly), mentions of drugs, what i consider to be ooc eddie (he’s a bit mean in this one), attempted coercion into sexual acts if you squint???

“but lord, you made me feel important. and then you tried to erase us.” 

You should have seen it coming. 

You knew about the rumors surrounding him, you knew what people whispered about him. And even if all the rumors weren’t true, you knew that within each little white lie, there had to be a root of truth. 

It didn’t stop you. 

Maybe after the first meeting, you should’ve given him up. A clandestine meeting under false pretenses, you’d managed to convince him to meet you in the woods to sell to you. But it wasn’t the weed that you wanted - it was him.

Him, who you had seen in passing in the hallways for years. Him, who wore a leather jacket even on the most sweltering of summer days and rolled into school each day with loud music blasting loudly, not an ounce of consideration for his peers. Him, who had a reputation and wore it like a badge of honor.

Him, who was destined to ruin you the moment you locked eyes with him, fate cruelly deciding that he was the one. 

He’d known the second he’d seen you at that picnic table that it was never about the drugs. But he’d played along, letting you embarrass yourself terribly as you asked questions and offered over a twenty dollar bill for the baggie he dangled in front of you.

“Sweetheart,” he’d cooed over to you, his fingers brushing yours as his hands hovered over the cash, “You’re not really here for the drugs, are you?” 

A chain of reactions. You’d gone from trembling out of nerves to trembling from ecstasy. He’d taken you right there, on top of the wooden table, without hesitation. He didn’t care if anyone walked up on the two of you as he’d buried his head between your thighs, only spurred on with each call of his name that fell from your lips. And when it was all said and done, he’d pocketed his drugs and handed back your money, a smug smirk as he winked. 

“We should do this again sometime.” 

And you did. Over, and over, and over. At first, it began with regular meetings at that same spot in the woods. A spot forever stained for you, marked in infamy as the place you handed yourself over to Eddie Munson without so much as blinking. But it had snow-balled into something more, something bigger. Hidden meetings in the woods turned to late night drives in his van, ending parked on the side of the road as he’d coerce you into the back. 

“God, you look so pretty like this,” he groans, hand tightly winding your hair into a ponytail as he continues to jerk his hips into your slack jaw, tears streaming down your face, “So eager. All mine.” 

He was right, God, he was right. You’d never needed to please a man as much as you had when it came to him. It didn’t phase you as you choked when he hit the back of your throat, only urging you on to take more of him until you couldn’t breathe. Your nose brushed against his coarse pubes as your throat constricted once more, and he threw his head back in a low groan. 

“Fuck yes. Just like that, sweetheart. You can take more, I know you can take more.” 

When he’d finally finished, his hand pressing you down on him and holding you there until you swallowed all that he had given you, you let him fall from your mouth. There’s a string of spit that trails from his dick to your chin, but you don’t have it in you to be disgusted. All you can do is look up at him hopelessly, starry eyed at the man as you sit back on your heels. 

“Was that good?” you murmur, insecurity getting the best of you. 

He’s red in the face, spread out in exhaustion, as he spares you a shocked glance. “Good? Was that good? That was incredible, baby. C’mere.” 

This was what got you. It wasn’t the sex, or the orgasms, or the pet names, or the thrill of the secrecy. It wasn’t the bruises in the shape of his hands he left on your hips or those love marks left on your neck that you always struggled to hide. It was the aftermath - the way he always held you after like you meant something to him. He’d coddle you into his chest, he’d trace whispers of touches over your bare shoulders. Each and every time, without fail, he made you feel important. And maybe that’s why when the whispers of others first started, it didn’t phase you. 

You caught the odd glances, the double-takes from fellow students. A plethora of whispers questioning why someone like you would be messing around with someone like him. 

You didn’t have an answer for them. You wished you’d had the answer for yourself. 

Soon enough, your friends had even turned up their nose at you. They’d caught your flirtatious looks exchanged with Eddie during lunch, and that had been the last straw. But none of it mattered, because that afternoon, the two of you met up and went through with your usual routine; it was okay, because when his body was flush with yours, making it so you were unable to remember even your own name, you didn’t have a moment to spare them a single thought.

It was perfect. It was exhilarating, exciting, and addicting. It was flawless, until it wasn’t.

Maybe you were the one to blame. It was because of you, after all, that the end fell upon the two of you. After months of bliss, you realized you wanted more. You didn’t want to have to leave his trailer in the early hours of the morning once he’d gotten what he wanted from you. You wanted to stay, even if only for an hour more, and talk. The first time you’d brought it up, he laughed in your face. 

“C’mon, sweetheart. We both know what we were here for, and we both got it. Why ruin it with sentimentals?” 

You’d nodded at his words that night, but they still stung. Clearly, you both didn’t know you were here for, and he had no clue that you had not got it. 

You wanted connection. You wanted more. 

The craving for his soft touches and moments of vulnerability almost became too much to bear. It was all you could think of, consuming your mind in the most inconvenient of times. Any time an opportunity to spend time with him presented itself, you’d jump at it. 

It’s how you ended up at his trailer, under the guise that the two of you were watching a movie together. It was obvious that there would be more than that based on the way he’d suggested it, but you fooled yourself into believing that maybe he’d wanted the same. Maybe, he’d be content just spending time with you. 

He’d hardly waited for beginning credits to start to roll before he was on you, placing wet kisses along your neck. 

“Eddie, stop,” you sigh, trying to shrug him off unsuccessfully. All he’d done was smirk before chuckling into your neck, a hand coming down onto your thigh before trailing upwards, “I’m serious, I want to watch the movie.” 

You didn’t. That was a goddamn lie. All you wanted was his attention on you, for him to continue on. Your body was aflame with want, and you both knew it. 

But you also wanted to prove something to both of you. You needed to prove you could spend time together without the sex. That your inner turmoil of emotions wasn't for nothing. 

“Oh, come on now, babe,” his hand was slow deliberate, cupping your sex slowly, making you resist the urge to whine and buck into his touch, “I can feel how much you want me, and we haven’t even begun.” 

You grind your teeth, throwing your head back in frustration. He takes it as a green light to continue, fingers playing with the waistband of the shorts you’d worn. He’d just started to suck on your sweet spot, a point of contact he’d become far too familiar with, when your dam broke.

You couldn’t do this. You needed more. 

“I’m serious. Stop,” your plea comes out as a whisper that he doesn’t initially hear over the movie, so you clear your throat and try again. This time, your voice comes out more powerful, more sure, “No.”

Eddie was off of you within milliseconds. He may be a monster, but he was not that kind of monster.

No means no. 

The space between you was almost as suffocating as the previous proximity as he looks at you, shocked and completely still. 

All you can do is stare back, heart pounding, hands shaking. 

“What’s wrong?” he immediately asks, and the concern is almost endearing. Almost. 

You know he doesn’t mean it in the way you want him to. 

“Do you like me?” you ask suddenly, internally cursing yourself as you already felt tears burning at your corneas. 

He laughs as if you’d told a bad joke, clearly not picking up on how serious you were, “Do I like you? Of course I like you, or else I wouldn’t keep dreaming of that pretty little pus-”

“No, Eddie. I mean do you like me? Do you like me for more than the sex?” your voice breaks. You sound so pathetic, it angers you. 

You feel impossibly small as he continues to stare at you, the realization washing over his features slowly. He goes from looking worried, to looking humored, to suddenly looking emotionless. You almost wish you hadn’t stopped him. You almost wish you had let the night continue on as it was, that you had succumbed to the normal routine. You’d convinced yourself that you needed to know the truth, if you really did mean anything to him, but now you’re sure anything would be better than the cool composure he’s holding himself up with. 

“Sweetheart.”

The simple nickname that usually had you as putty in his hands, is suddenly breaking you. He doesn’t have to answer - his tone tells you all you need to know. 

Not only does Eddie Munson not want you the way you want him, but he never could. He never did, he never could, and he never will. 

“I thought we were just having fun,” he presses on, scooting closer finally, “You know, just messing around.” 

Just messing around. Just having fun. 

You guys had been, but this? This no longer felt like fun. Not when your heart has suddenly become collateral damage. 

“We were, but I want more,” you have to blink rapidly to keep the tears at bay, and each word burns your throat. 

The look he gives you burns more. “More? Like what? Fucking- Like fucking flowers and chocolates? Because spoiler alert, sweetheart, I don’t do those things.” 

There’s a crack in your armor, and it shatters like spider webs across your face. 

“I don’t know,” you whisper, looking at him as your chest heaves, at a loss for words, “I guess? I just want more. I don’t want you to throw me aside like I’m nothing everytime. I want this to mean something.”

I want this to mean as much to you as it means to me. 

You can’t say it, because you know it’ll only be another nail in the coffin. 

“Mean something? Christ,” his laugh is humorless as he drags his hands over his face, “Listen, we need to get one thing clear. This was only ever a means to an end. That’s all that this was.” 

You can’t help the flicker of anger that ignites in your chest. All you can think of is the countless times he has held you, the countless times he has let affection slip between the cracks of whatever this has been. 

“I gave up everything for you,” you start, working hard to not choke on your words, “I gave up my friends for you.” 

“I didn’t ask you to,” he spits back, venomous. 

“I’ve been painted as a freak, a slut, all because I wanted you,” you spit right back, matching his vehemence.

He shrugs, letting the words roll off of him as if they mean nothing. As if you mean nothing, “Collateral damage.” 

Collateral damage. No, the collateral damage was the sound of your heart breaking in your chest at this moment, making it impossible to breathe. 

“Is that the only reason you ever asked to meet me that first time?” he continues on, eyes narrowing, “Because you wanted something more from me?” 

“It’s not like I’m the only one who had ulterior motives,” you scoff, remembering the way he’d made the first move. 

Him, not you. The first one to want more. Just not the last. 

“Oh, sweetheart, I think I was very clear in my motives from the start. But just in case I wasn’t, let it be known now,” he pauses, leaning in and looking you dead in your eyes. You almost look away, a tear finally breaking from your waterline, anticipating his next words, “All I ever wanted was a good fuck.” 

That’s all you were to him. You weren’t anything more, or anything less. Those moments of vulnerability you had been so lucky to experience were nothing more than an act, a baiting to keep you coming back. 

“Fuck you,” is all you can whimper, despite wishing for it to reflect the anger you felt. All the hurt you felt. 

You had been an idiot. A reckless, careless idiot. 

“You already have, remember?” he sneers, and it’s your final straw. 

You stand up abruptly, not looking at him as you grab your bag and shoes. He doesn’t say a word, doesn’t try to stop you, but you don’t expect him to. You only finally look at him when your hand is on the front door, turning to face him one last time. 

“I regret this,” you say, voice finally coming out clearly despite the tears now streaking your face, “I regret ever asking you to meet me in the woods that day.” 

You know it doesn’t phase him. He doesn’t so much as flinch, but you needed to say it aloud. For yourself. 

“Wish I could say the same,” he replies as he doesn’t move from his spot on the couch, comfortably lounging. 

His world isn’t crumbling. Whatever is happening right now won’t affect him once you walk out his door. This never meant anything to him, and it never would. He won’t have to live with the regret, he won’t spend sleepless nights missing you, and he surely won’t be sparing you a glance in the hallways come Monday. Whereas your hands are now forever stained, his are already washed clean. 

You let the door slam behind you, wishing that you’d played it safe. You’d meant it when you told him that you regret ever meeting with him in the woods that day. You regret every meeting that followed, every time you’d let him worship your body and returned the favor. You regret the change that had occurred somewhere deep inside of you through it all. You regret ever wanting more. But that’s all you can do; you can’t undo what is already done. All you would ever have is your regrets, a million ‘would’ve, could’ve, should’ve’s. 

And you were going to regret Eddie Munson for the rest of your days.