#me when coming up with questions is a weak point of mine and i'm trying to think of something that makes sense...

[yellow-rose-embalmer]

Aesop needs to claw his way back up to approval. He needs to stop ruining what he set out to preserve. That starts with listening, just like he always has, right? His voice, when he finally speaks after a long silence, is weak, like he does not want to admit what he is hearing, even as it burrows deep within and he knows there is a reason it was said, even as its truth is evident. "...I see your point."

Further fueling the burning in his throat is how Victor says he finally found someone. He finally found someone, and Aesop keeps destroying it. And Aesop keeps turning away, thinking he should be left behind. But it doesn't happen. Even when he lashed out, even when he says all these things he learns to soon regret, Victor remains. (He wanted this. This is the kind of thing he's wanted for so long. So why does he push this to nearly the limit, why does he only realize when he puts it at risk?) "You don't. But... you were. I'm sorry you had to go through that... you should not have. I should not have said that... even with such thoughts, you should not have to hear them. I will... try to take your words better in the future as well."

Aesop closes his eyes to think of something to ask, letting out a hum to ensure it didn't seem like he was trying to isolate himself again, trying to ignore his eyes swelling. Trying to ignore how little he really knew. "As for... figuring out who... you are. How much of your past self is... still with you? I know you are not him anymore, of course, but you also are, and... I want to make sure I am not expecting something that will not happen."

"Hey doll! D'you happen to have a spare glove in that handy box of yours? Just one is fine!"

@the-bloodline-embrace

Aesop may have been caught organizing his box anyway as his eyes narrowed, lips that could not be seen pressed together in focus (he tended to make it a habit so he would not have to do it all at once or wind up with an untenable workload). Even so, he freezes, eyes widening upon hearing the voice behind him, as he slowly looks to confirm that which had quickly grown familiar.

"Ah... hello again. Y-you came at a good time, I was just making sure everything I had stored in here was properly stocked. Let me see..." As the embalmer opens up his kit fully to make sure he can see everything, running a finger down the collection to make sure he was looking in the right place, he reminds himself that he would practice getting used to these names, too. No matter how wrong it felt.

Finally, he fishes out a glove from one of the compartments, handing it over. "Here you go. I... hope this fits you well, Victor." The name slips out before he can stop himself. By the time he notices, he wants almost to fade away, to ask the man before him to forget what just happened. But all that comes out is a weak "...sorry."

[silkenwinger]

would do crazy, unspeakable things to get TA Gaz's attention. he's just so nice. never playing favourites, necessarily: his attention is always divided evenly. after all, he is a tutor figure for an hard class, and all of you need help. and while you're scared shitless of price, you know you can count on gaz's calm tone to tell you what you wrote wrong. never judging. understanding. encouraging.

it's not just his behavior, of course. have you looked at him? he's top 10 most handsome men you've ever talked to. wait, more like top 5. okay realistically he's the best looking one. and you're not the only one to get lost in his eyes, either. you hear hushed whispers of fuck me behind you when he stretches mid hour. you telepathically send whoever said that a strong mental message of stay away from my man.

as for your relationship... well. you've been working really hard on building a particular rapport. by that you mean you sit in the first row, greet him immediately, and try to come up with at least one question per session. looking hard for things to ask him has led you to a vast amount of knowledge you really don't need to pass this class, to the point you know you're getting glares from the other students. it's hard to be more forthright: you wish you could, but you're still somewhat inhibited by everything about him. for christmas, you brought him some homemade cookies, saying you made them for all TAs (absolutely false). gaz had smiled that absolutely devastating smile that made you weak in the knees. your five attempts and hours wasted had given you something back!

you've convinced yourself what you've going on is special. gaz (and oh my god, the day he told you (aka the class) you could call him that instead of mr garrick was the highlight of the month) knows your name and asks how you're doing frequently, which has completely revolutioned your world. you spend two hours getting ready every time you have to see him. when you saw him in the distance while you were talking with another classmate from another course, you almost threw the poor guy from the corridor balcony to not be seen with him.

of course, your friends call you fucking delusional, short of telling you you have absolutely no chances with him, but hope never flees true warriors' hearts.

eventually, all good things come to an end. price's class ends, you submit your long ass essay, and you don't see gaz as frequently anymore. you almost cried the last session, with him telling you all that he was kinda sad to let you go and that he was sure your final would go well. he'd even touched your shoulder! it would have been hard not to hug him if you hadn't been paralyzed by his touch in the first place.

one day, checking your results, you see that alongside price's grade there is a considerably longer email. the professor is telling you that he's seriously impressed with your essay, and that his TA, recommending you, wants to work with you on a project related to the class.

a project.

with gaz.

alone!

(part 2 here)

a/n: for both mine and your peace of mind, please tell me if this is wildly inaccurate for british universities! i'm basing the TA role as it exists in my country: someone (usually freshly graduate or about to be) who leads a secondary course for a major class, that can deal with redoing what has been done in class, solving students' doubts, in depth discussion, etc. i think this blurb will stay this way anyway, but if i ever want to write something longer on the topic 👀, i'd like to know how stuff actually works in the country it is set in lol

[duskier]

If you ever wrote the 141 getting bullied by Fem!ghost, the lesbianism in me would go wild I fear (so like…you should totally do it ist saying)

(I'm unsure if this was just for fem Ghost or full fem 141 forgive me fkdjsnd if it isn't good lmk and I'll do better for u <3)

cw cucking (??) cw exhibitionism!! this is just Ghost fucking reader to show the guys how its done

I won't lie I feel like I did good here

I'm so sorry but fem Ghost in a regular 141 sounds like dyke HELL imagine all of these bumbling idiots talking about women like they can take girls home and play them like a instrument when they can't spell clit let alone find it!!

And the second they catch wind that Ghost is a lesbian? They aren't homophobic by a long shot, but suddenly Ghost gets deeper into 'the boys club'. They wanna talk women with Ghost. It's weird, crude, and Ghost can't help but pity the women they all go home to. Soap always asks really invasive questions about how lesbian sex even works, a ton of porn-centric ideas that make Ghost roll her eyes. Gaz mainly wants to guess at Ghost's type in women, keeps showing her girls in his dating apps to see which one catches her eye. Price is obviously curious himself about Ghost's love life, but keeps the most quiet about it.

...Soap gets a ton of bravado when he's drunk. He likes to let loose when they go to bars close to base, usually it isn't too intolerable. But then he brags about how he's the best lay in his town, 'just ask any girl'. Gaz makes a joke about being internationally ranked, to which Price punches his shoulder. They all look when Ghost snorts incredulously.

"Aye? Think you'd do better with that plastic, Lt?" Soap points at her using his whiskey glass, a small drop spilling onto the table with his carelessness.

Ghost narrows her eyes at him. Part of her just wants to deck him, as much of a little brother as he was to her. "I know I would, Sergeant."

...It's your lucky night. Gaz spotted you first, lips missing his straw repeatedly as his eyes fixes on you leaning over the bar. Price sees you next, jostles Soap to get his attention.

But when you look over to their booth, the only person you're looking at is the woman in the balaclava. Black compression shirt not hiding an inch of her bulk, wide shoulders and stomach hanging just over her belt line. Carabiner on a belt loop, and you know you've got to at least try. You'd misread flags before thanks to the stupid military base being so close by, but the sight of Ghost... too tempting.

You can't see Ghost’s entire face, but you see her eyes crinkle when you shyly bring her a drink. Her friends across from her in the booth offer you a seat on their side, but before you can reply, Ghost is patting her thigh. It shouldn't make you so weak in the knees, but it does, so you quickly sit yourself on her thigh.

The men's eyes are wide, fixed on Ghost- how'd she get you under her spell so fast? You don't really notice their looks, too busy drinking in the smell of her cologne, a thrill shooting up your spine at the feel of her hand on your back.

...Ghost gets the idea first. None of the team protests, if anything their eyes grow hungrier. It doesn't take much convincing for you, either. It's a strange request, sure, for three men and one woman to want to take you back to a hotel for the night. But Ghost reassured you-

"None o'em will lay a hand on you, love, you'll just be mine. They just need t'see, learn how to do things right. You mind helping me show them?"

When you nod, mind already imagining what was to come, she cups your cheek with a gloved hand, thumb stroking your soft skin. "There's a good girl. You'll be perfect."

...Within an hour, Ghost's got you naked and compliant in a hotel room down the way. You'd forgotten about the men watching you entirely within only a few minutes of Ghost's bare hands pulling you onto your lap. With one hand she's spreading your ass apart while her other hand slips a finger or two in you. You're bracing yourself with your hands on her chest, gasping with your forehead pressed to hers as she finds every which way to make you feel good in that position.

You don't even have to tell her when you're close. Stars shining behind closed eyelids you can hear her whispering just for you, "Go on, let them see you, pretty thing. You deserve it, cum for me."

After your shocks have worn off, she's kissing you through her mask as she lays you down. Hands caressing and exploring, never in a rush. The only clothes she removes are her gloves and rolling up her balaclava. You're only passingly upset Ghost won't take her actual clothes off- you're sure it had something to do with the dynamic between her and her team- she looks damn good with her strap hooked over her jeans anyway.

You're salivating when she gets her knees on each side of your head. Thumb pressing down on her silicon cock, guiding it between your pretty lips. "Just gotta get it ready f'me pet, then I'll give you what you need."

Her quiet little words of encouragement are all you need, emboldening you to suck it like you're getting paid to, thighs clenching together at the sound of her grumbling praise.

The men aren't touching themselves, despite them straining in their pants and shifting every so often. Their eyes glued to you, your own eyes glued to Ghost as she pulls back, thumb wiping your spit-slick lips clean.

When she lines herself up with you, she doesn't immediately bully herself in. She grinds herself against you, focusing her mental energy on everywhere else. Licking your neck, biting your ear, whispering praises just for you while her fingers tug at your tits.

"Look like a fuckin' dream, love. So good for me, they don't even deserve to see you like this..."

It's when your chest is heaving, your face is flushed, and your nails are clawing her back that she rears her hips back, the plastic expertly catching and slipping into your needy cunt. "Just like that pet, just fuckin'- like that-"

She was so affected, sounded so hoarse, it sent butterflies through you as she started fucking into you. Ghost was like a damned machine, fucking you through orgasm after orgasm, your mewls and desperate cries filling the room. Her arms are so strong around you, she's tearing you apart and holding you together all the same. Like nothing you'd ever had before, and she knows it.

"Think of me, next time you're in bed- with any man like them, yeah? Remember what you could be having instead, call me when he's pumped and gone. I'll take care of you pet, like no man could."

The front of her jeans are soaked from you by the time you finally tap her arm, entire form shaking from exhaustion. Ghost immediately accepts it, pulling out and unhooking her strap as you giggle light-headed at the wet spot you left on her pants. She cleans you up, wet washcloth and all. You try to tell her you don't need it, but the lukewarm cloth soothes your tender parts like she said it would. Dresses you herself because frankly, you're still boneless.

Wraps you in her big warm coat that smells like her cigarettes, tells you kindly she's gonna get you home safe. To the men behind her, the men you couldn't care less about, the men all politely sitting with their hands folded in their laps, she barks, "Do what you will here, clean up when you're done. I'll see you back on base."

[kissesforsatoru]

MINE FOREVER | wc: 1.1k

BONTEN! SANZU HARUCHIYO x GN! READER

₊˚⌗ after a bad argument with sanzu, you try to leave him. he doesn’t take it very well. or sanzu’s yandere awakening

⤷ cw : general yandere themes, violent thoughts, violent outbursts, threatening violence, choking, mentioned murder, possessive behavior, a lot of cussing, reader is in love with sanzu but vv scared of him, sanzu doesn’t really understand his emotions, comfort??? maybe??? it’s up to interpretation i guess, somewhat soft sanzu

"haruchiyo, you're being mean," you say while looking up at him through your tear-soaked lashes. your voice sounds so raw when you speak his full name, cracked and broken from all of the crying you've been doing, but no doubt the way he's been treating you attributes to the defeat in your tone.

he looks at you with an indecipherable expression, but inside of his head he's overwhelmed by thoughts assaulting him all at once at full force. mean? he's being... mean??? something about the word catches haruchiyo off guard. he's used to you screaming at him that's he's an asshole, a heartless monster, and anything else that dehumanizes and villainizes him in the worst ways, but you've never called him fucking mean before. what the hell does that even mean, and why does it hurt so fucking much to hear that coming from you? his hand reaches up hesitantly to rub at his chest where his heart is, irritated that it won't stop thumping painfully against his ribcage.

"what did you honestly expect from me, angel? i'm a murderer. murderers aren't exactly fucking nice you know," he spits, rolling his eyes. he immediately regrets it. why does he regret it?

a weak noise falls from your lips and the pang in haruchiyo's chest thrums faster, harder; he's now digging his nails into his skin with an angry growl, uncaring of if he starts to bleed. no wound, not even ones from knives or bullets, hurt as badly as whatever the fuck it is that he's experiencing right now. it's excruciating, and annoying.

you laugh, dry and bitter, "yeah, what did i expect?" you whisper under your breath just loud enough for haruchiyo to hear. you aren't agreeing with him, that much haurchiyo understands. you're questioning why the hell you're even with a crazy bastard like him.

he wants to strangle you for being so snarky, watch you struggle and beg for his fucking forgiveness for causing such a big fucking problem for no fucking reason; you should expect only bad from haruchiyo by this point, so why bother bringing up all the things he does wrong? but... sanzu doesn't move to put his hands on you even a little bit—something is stopping him. he doesn't know what.

"haruchiyo," you call, sniffling and biting back a sudden onslaught of tears, "this isn't working out."

another pang, and now a sudden feeling of restlessness itches at him along with it. shit, did he take a new drug and fucking forget about it or something? what the hell is going on with him?

"what?" he growls, finally taking a step towards you. you flinch, closing your eyes as you look away. haruchiyo ignores it despite the fact that, again, his heart aches and pounds and practically cries out in pain with the way it's beating so fucking loudly that the sound rings incessantly in his ears. 

he takes three more steps before he's right in front of you, bending down a bit so that he's face to face with you sitting on the couch. "you wanna fucking repeat that for me, sweetheart?" he hisses. you flinch again, leaning back a little bit so that he's not so close to you. you're shaking, which almost makes him smirk, but he's honestly too pissed off to really find any sort of amusement in your fear right now.

"this isn't working out, haruchiyo. i can't do this anymore," you whimper pathetically. a sob slips past your lips when haruchiyo slams his hand on the couch beside you.

"that's really too fucking bad. you're not leaving me," he snarls, pushing you down onto the couch and crawling over you to pin you under him. you whimper again when you feel his hand on your throat, right at the juncture of your neck and jaw, squeezing with enough force to be threatening, but not painful. he watches as you sob uncontrollably, hiccupping and choking on tears that slip between your pursed lips.

"haruchiyo, please," you barely are able to say through the scratchiness of your voice that cracks under each word, "you're scaring me. you always scare me, i—i can't live being scared all the time." you try to reason with him, but haruchiyo isn't a reasonable person in the least bit. he clicks his tongue.

"you're fucking mine. you belong to me; do you understand me? you don't get to leave me because of a stupid fucking reason like that. you don't get to leave ever." he squeezes on your throat tighter, still not tight enough to hurt you, but your hands instantly shoot up to grab at his wrist anyway. he doesn't try to push you off because you aren't a threat to him; he can easily overpower you and for that reason he lets you have your semblance of security.

"i asked you a fucking question, y/n, you better fucking answer me," he urges, leaning down closer to you to you to nip at your cheek in warning. you gasp and whine at the feeling and clamber to muster up a reply that will satisfy him in your fearful, anxiety ridden state.

"mhm, yes– yes, i understand, haru," you manage to get out, and you hope the nickname you always call him will help you to soothe him, reassure him enough for him to ease up and let go of your neck.

he looks down at you for just a few seconds that feel like hours under his intense gaze, and then, "good. don't you ever try to pull that shit with me again or i will break your fucking legs so you can't even dream of leaving me," he warns, letting go of your throat. he doesn't move off of you though; instead, he dips down and his tongue presses into your skin to tenderly lap at the tears that are still pitifully slipping down your cheeks, humming at the salty taste. you breathe out a sigh of relief and lay limply under him, allowing him to do with you what he pleases.

when he's done, haruchiyo lowers himself onto you all the way and wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer into his body. he kisses at your cheek and jaw sweetly, and you hate to admit that the action lulls you, calms you down and makes you feel safe again—haruchiyo has that effect on you, unfortunately.

the pain in haruchiyo's heart has dissipated, and he feels at ease knowing you no longer wanna leave him. he realizes he would die if he ever let you go and he's going to make damn fucking sure that you don't.

© 2023 by kolyasobsession━all rights reserved. modification, reproduction or plagiarism of my works and theme are strictly prohibited. likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated.

[rapunzelbro]

Comforting Velvette as her S/O.

So tumblr broke, this request was vanished from my profile. So to the anon who requested I’m so sorry I hope you find this The prompts were “I don’t want to be alone right now” and another I forgot. Enjoy!

Masterlist Taglist

It would take forever to establish a relationship with Velvette let's be honest here.

She doesn't want anyone to see her in a vulnerable state, she doesn't want anyone thinking she is weak and needed a partner

That was until she met you, something about you was just different to her.

You were soft spoken, minded your own business but wouldn't stay quiet when someone said something that set you off.

Like to piss you off? Man you'd set whoever pissed you off, straight and they wouldn't speak, or argue with you again.

And your designs were amazing decent.
Velvette rarely had to make any changes when it came to your sketches

And your stitch work? Fucking flawless compared to the others. Who just were you?

She would try to stalk you on social media to find out you had no account, or one she could find, with a little help from Vox she did eventually find it.

It was a completely anonymous account, with a rather decent following Like probably 10k?

Impressive but not compared to Velvette

Your account was hiding your identity by a random username that had no mention of you in the slightest, and no posts that involved photos of you. Just sketches, sheet music photos, and the occasional video of someone singing, which she assumed was you.

But what amused her more than anything, was seeing multiple sketches of her on your page.

You captured her beautifully, didn't make her look bad in any sort of way, it was so simple, but yet so beautiful.

Velvette definitely sereenshotted the sketeh

She never would have thought you admired her outside the work place. Let alone be a fucking singer too? What couldn't you do?

She'd call you into her office the next day and you'd be so fucking anxious that you fucked up somehow as you knocked on the door

"Yeah yeah come in"

You'd take a deep breath calming your nerves down before you went inside, closing the door behind you as you walked to her desk, she was still looking down at her phone

"You wanted to see me Miss?"

The second she heard your voice she looked up from her phone, placing it down and grabbing a piece of paper from the inside of her desk before placing it down

Shit

“Would you care to explain this?"

Your cheeks instantly flared red in embarrassment as you realized just what it was

The sketches of her that you drew

"I..I'm so sorry I promise it won't happen again I just well I-“

"Oh quit your yapping I'm not mad you idiot"

She instantly shuts you down slight irritation on her face, while confusion struck yours as you remained silent

"I'm promoting you to head designer, don't fuck this up. Shoo get back to it"

What the fuck? No literally, what the fuck?

You left as soon as she shooed you away, you were beyond confused as to why she did what she did, but you'd never question her.

Months after the promotion you and Velvette would become closer, considering how the two of you now worked closer together since you directly reported to her now.

Velvette wasn't as harsh as she usually was to you, she listened to your suggestions and took your thoughts seriously.

Velvette would ask you to go to a fashion show with her Saying it was to get another eye on the new trends, but you and her both indirectly knew it was her asking you in a date, which you obvious said yes.

After that point you were would date in private If anyone were to question you two?
They'd be instantly fired on spot or killed. She didn't need anyone peaking into her personal life

Would introduce you to the other Vee's later on

"She is mine don't try and start no fucking deals with her, shes off the market"

If she didn't say that Valentino would have snatched your ass for himself. And man did he want to. Fucking creep

You two often watched tv together in her room in private, or you would sketch her, she absolutely loved that she was your muse. She would always have sketch books and the highest quality of materials.

You stayed with her during the exterminations that happened for your protection too, she wouldn't let you not stay with her if you were killed she'd fucking lose her mind

It's been almost a year since the two of you have been together privately, with the exception of Vox and Val

You'd be working late at the office sewing a new design when you'd get a text from her

"Y/n doll. Can come back to our room whatever you're doing can wait"

"Be there in five"

Oh and you moved in with her. Per her request of course.

You finish up what you were doing before heading back, knocking on the door to your shared room

When you don’t hear a response you grow concerned, as you open the door.

You see Velvette on the bed on your shared bed on her side. She quickly sits up hearing the door open

"Vox I told you to fuck off! Wait Y/n"

Her hard glare softens, she can tell she was crying

"Velv.. are you okay? What happened?"

You quickly made your way over to her

"I don't want to be alone right now, doll"

She simply says before you instantly hug her.
Her returning the hug as you two just sit there, her quietly sobbing as you gently run your fingers through her soft curls, humming gently to her, trying to comfort her the best you can

You two are like that before she pulls away, keeping a hand in yours as you wipe the tears that remained trying your best to not smear her makeup anymore than it already was.

After a while she finally talks about what was causing her pain.

She might not be open to a lot of people

But damn do you help her a lot.

[finniestoncrane]

Sitting my ass down in the front row for this sci-fi movie. Yeah, can I get me a uh- bubble tea, sweet popcorn, and uh- Slater it in pickles. My date's Cooper Howard, yeah he's not here willingly. Don't worry about it.

god what i wouldn't give to be his to do what he wanted with so we are on the same page here ;-; 💚🩷 cw: posessiveness, dubcon-ish, master/servant dynamics kinda, humiliation, degradation, boot licking 🔞minors dni🔞 send a request • masterlist • kofi link • tag: finnie2k (to follow or to block)

You stood before him, infamous bounty hunter Cooper Howard, more legend than man at this point. Your entire body trembled, mind racing in confusion as he tried to clarify what he had just asked of you.

"Well, now don't be embarrassed, darlin'. It happens to the best of us out here."

Raising an eyebrow, you kept your vision on him as he paced in front of you.

"Just one of those things you get accustomed to over time, but everyone's fallen for it. You're desperate for something. Money, food. You take on a job out of necessity, don't ask what it might entail, and then you find out it's a lot more than you were ready for."

Cooper stopped, a smile gathering in his dry, ridged cheeks as he watched your pupils widen when caught in his gaze.

"I wouldn't have hired you if I didn't think you were up to it, though."

Still shocked at what he'd asked you to do, a definite line-crosed between employer and employee, you were unable to argue much, which meant Cooper held the floor.

"But, you will note that the contract I had you sign stated that you were mine for the duration, and that you will do as instructed by me, or else..."

His thumb tapped the barrel of the shotgun on his right leg and he winked to you.

"... I'd hate for it to come to that."

You considered the many opportunities he had up until now to pull that trigger, each little mistake you made. And as though he could read your thoughts, he decided himself to highlight this.

"Besides, you've proved that you're not worth much more than that slit between your legs, so spread 'em wide and start doing whatever it takes to get yourself in the mood."

Rattled by his unshakeable confidence and his answer for questions you hand't even asked, you did as you were told, easing your hand down the front of your pants and beginning to rub between your already thick, swollen lips, spreading your embarrassingly copious slick around as he watched you.

"Good girl. You get nice and wet, or I'm going in rough and dry. Your choise."

As your breath hitched, he chuckled.

"Yeah, I thought as much. You strike me as the weak-willed and desperate type. I can read you like a book, darlin'."

Cooper's hand was under your chin, lifting your face up so your eyes could meet his.

"Now, so I know you're ready to obey my instructions, I want you to get down there and lick my boot, girly. Show me you know your place."

With a slight grimace, a tension in your stomach you couldn't place as either arousal or irritation, you found yourself sinking to your knees regardless. One long, slow swipe of your tongue over the tip of his boot, the dust and grime of the wasteland tingling your tastebuds, and you lifted your head back up quickly.

"That's it. Now keep that mouth open, and try not to think about how embarrasing this might be for you."

[acourtofmarvels]

Surprise - Cassian

Warnings: none really, cute fluff. mentions of sex n stuff lol

Word count: 694

"Does it hurt?" I asked sheepishly. I felt so guilty. And a little bit proud of myself, but don't tell Cassian that.

He groaned in response. I could tell he was trying not to blow up on me. I hit him pretty hard.

"I'm sorry, baby." I sat beside him on the bed. I took the ice from his hand and held it onto his head myself. "At least you don't have a concussion."

"At least we know training is working. You got me good." He tried to smile at me but only winced in the process.

"You startled me! I wasn't expecting anyone to be at the house." And I smashed a bottle of wine over his head. It wasn't a small bottle either.

Rhys told me they were gonna be gone all day and most likely wouldn't get back tomorrow. Rhys always informs me when they are on their way home, then I can expect Cassian to come and see me.

"I expect a blowjob after this." Even in pain he's horny and inappropriate. I honestly shouldn't be surprised he said that.

Cassian was... unexpected for me. This thing between us happened one night and never stopped. At some point it was just a fling, then we said we were exclusive. Next thing I know we're all in and dating. 

Our relationship never should have happened. We had a one night stand on a drunken holiday. And the next morning we slept with each other again. Cassian never did relationships. He was a go with the flow kind of guy and always said he never had the time for it.

I was just wanting sex. No strings and the kind that made your legs weak afterwards. Cassian exceeded expectations. We've been friends for so long now and I've heard from other girls I know whom he's slept with, that he's great in bed. Don't tell him this cause it will just boost his massive ego, but he's the best I've ever had.

"I feel like I should get an award for my marvelously teaching. I think I taught you too well." He groaned and layed back on the bed, taking the ice with him. "Cauldron boil me, I can't believe you got the drop on me like that. You're lucky I love you, babe. If any other person had done this to me-"

"You love me?" I blurt out, my eyes wide.

Cassian halts mid-sentence. He looked genuinely confused as if he had no clue what I just questioned. But he said it. I heard it loud and clear. I think my heart nearly stopped beating when he said it. He said he loved me.

"You just said it." I was fighting the urge to smile. Cause what if he didn't mean it? What if the hit had really messed him up. Oh shit did I rattle his brain with that wine bottle?

"I..." He cleared his throat, slowly bringing the ice down from his head to look at me. "Well, damn. I guess I did."

My heart is racing. He didn't deny it, yet. 

"D-did you mean it?" I had to ask. I would give him the way out if he needed it. This was serious for us. I mean, we didn't even want to be in a relationship at first, let alone fall in love.

A small smile crept up on his face. When he nods I feel immediately relieved. I moved over beside him, running my fingers through his hair like I always did. "Say it again." The words nearly came out as a beg.

He moaned and ran a hand down his face. "Come on, sweetheart. Don't make me say it again. It's bad enough that I said it first. That's never happened before." His arrogant tone deserved a slap on the arm from me. But then I couldn't help but climb onto his lap and attack his face with kisses. His body shakes under mine from laughing. 

"On a scale from one to ten how badly does your head really hurt? Because I don't know if you know this about me but, emotional intimacy really turns me on. And you just told me you loved me, and I sure as hell am completely head over heels in love with you. And I think we should have sex right now."

His gaze on me darkens, his hands grip my hips firmly. "Suddenly I feel a whole lot better." 

inspired by The Score by Elle Kennedy

Acotar Masterlist

[wandafiction]

I Need You - Just Us Chapter 53

Warnings 18+: Smut, Fingering (Wanda Receiving), Oral (Wanda Receiving), Blindfolds, Restraints, Praise, Sex Day Dream I guess

Word Count: 3210

Series List | Chapter 52 | Chapter 54

================================

We exit SAKS, heading back towards where the car is parked Wanda walking next to me still with my arm around her shoulder. Once we have crossed the road, she untucks herself from my hold moving her hand to hold mine in between us again. She playfully swings our arms, they get higher and higher each time like if someone was on a swing. Luckily, there are hardly any people on the sidewalk so we don't have to avoid hitting anyone. When our arms go high enough, Wanda spins underneath them then pulls my arm so our body collides. Her other hand finds mine, putting it on her waist as hers rests on my shoulder and she makes us dance in a circle. Her giggles fill the air as a few people move to avoid us, I couldn't care less that we are dancing around on the sidewalk to no music. If it causes her to relax and laugh that oh so intoxicating laugh then I will dance with her forevermore. She spins under our arms one more time, before sliding her hand from my shoulder to my chest and rests her head against it.

I pull us out of the way, while she calms herself down, her hands drawing random patterns on my shirt. When she looks up at me her eyes sparkle in the sunlight that seeps through the gaps between buildings, and I gasp at how green they look today. I lean down to peck her lips a couple of times, making her smile so I give her kisses all over her face. She giggles out loud swatting my face away, all the time her eyes never leaving mine. I'm brought back to the fact that we are in public when a busy new yorker nearly collides with us.

"Do you want to drive back to yours?" She bites her bottom lip, giving me a small nod. I feel her hand snake down my chest towards my pants, causing a raised eyebrow from me. Just as I'm about to question her, I feel her hand move into my pocket, her fingers wrap around the keys and she slowly drags them out. All the time looking at me seductively, my eyebrows are still raised in amusement. I take a quick look around, deciding no one is watching us, I pull her hips flush with mine. Wanda gasps her grip on the keys tightening. All I can do is smirk, leaning my head down to whisper in her ear.

"Is someone trying to play games with me? Does someone need me inside of them?" I feel Wanda sigh against my neck.

"What if I do?" Wanda's voice is breathy and weak and it makes my smirk grow more.

"I'd say be a good girl and get us home." I feel Wanda nod against the side of my face, moving herself away from me so we can start walking again. 

Wanda is practically dragging me to the car at this point making me laugh at her, her head swiveling round her eyes squinting at me as she grows impatient. Once we finally get to the car, Wanda fumbles to get the keys into the door to unlock it grumbling as she does. I head to the trunk, popping it open when Wanda finally manages to unlock it, putting the bag from The Row in there. I take my sweet time to close the trunk and get to the passenger side door, Wanda honks the horn making people on the sidewalk jump. She leans across the central divider opening my door for me pushing it open, her pupils blown.

"Y/n come on." She whines as I stand leaning on the door looking in with a smirk. "Y/n I swear to god."  I raise my hand jn surrender.

"Okay, okay. I'm getting in. What's got you so riled up?" I act coy as I situate myself in the car closing my door.

The moment the door closes, Wanda turns the key in the ignition, checks the mirrors and then pulls away heading towards her apartment. Her grip on the steering wheel turning her knuckles white, her eyes locked on the road as she drives at a speed which I would class as above the speed limit. I decide to tease her more, so move my hand to hold onto her thigh giving it a small squeeze. Her thighs clench together trapping my fingers on the inside of her thigh, which just gives me more opportunity to gently rub my fingers up and down her thigh.

"Y/n." She sighs out, pleading me.

"Well I need my hand back if you want me to stop." I give her thigh another squeeze and am surprised by the moan that leaves her mouth, wow she really is riled up. I stop my movements with my fingers, her thighs relax and I remove my hand. 

"You're mean." She takes the left turn towards the apartment and I see her demeanor change once again when she takes her bottom lip between her teeth, her leg bouncing in anticipation.

"And you are mine." Wanda hands tighten further against the steering wheel and she takes a quick look at me.

"All fucking yours." 

Not two seconds after opening the door to Wanda's apartment she is pushing me against it, as it slams shut behind me. I drop the bag, with her new coat in it, on the floor, my hands flying up to hold her cheeks as I pull her in for an intense kiss. I lick at her bottom lip asking for entrance which she denies, so I take her bottom lips between my teeth giving it a gentle tug. A small gasp leaves her mouth and I take the opportunity to push my tongue past her lips exploring every part of her mouth. I push off the door causing Wanda to take a few steps back and I press her against the entrance wall to the right. My thigh slots between her legs, her hips sink against it moaning at the contact as she starts to grind against it. 

"What do you want babygirl?" I bring my face close to Wanda's ear lobe as I take it between my teeth making her hips jolt against my thigh. 

"Bedroom." It's all Wanda has to say before I lift her up, her legs wrapping around my waist, her arms around my neck. Her hips rut against my abdomen for any type of friction, and I smirk at her as she gets more and more riled up. 

I manage to get the door open kicking it closed behind me, making my way to the bed placing Wanda gently down on it. She sits on the edge, bottom lip between her teeth as she looks up at me as I tower over her. I drag my finger from her cheek down to the collar of her-my-shirt, claw my finger underneath before pulling it up slightly. Wanda's hands travel to the bottom of the shirt crossing over one another, lifting it up and over her head slowly. I move closer to her, and her lips instantly start leaving wet kisses along my abdomen. I move my hands to her hair, undoing the braids we did earlier and weave my hands through her hair to rid it of any knots. I move my finger to lift her chin so she is looking up at me, only a slither of color in her eyes as she bites the corner of her lips. 

"Take your pants off for me babygirl and move up to the pillows." I walk away from the bed heading to the chest of drawers.

"Where are you going?" I look back to see Wanda still sat at the edge of the bed.

"Just getting something to use to tie your hands up. Because that's what you wanted right. I recall you saying I can't wait to have it around my throat with my hands tied up. Or do you not want that anymore babygirl?" I smirk when Wanda's hands push the top of her pants down, sliding them off her legs and pushing herself onto the bed with her head on the pillow. "Take your bra off but keep your underwear on for me."

It makes me smile with how easily Wanda follows my instructions, as she sits up slightly to remove her bra, chucking it on the floor somewhere. I grab a couple of scarfs from the draws and turn to face Wanda with them in my hands. Her eyes grow darker at the sight of the scarfs, her thighs start to rub together in anticipation. I lean against the edge of the bed, one foot on the floor while my other knee rests on top of the mattress and my hands either side of her head. I lean down to give her a soft kiss, Wanda tries to deepen it and I allow it as she is now distracted so I trail my hands downs to hers. I pull away, Wanda's lips chasing mine a whine leaving her swollen lips but I don't give her a chance to think about anything else as I bring her hands up to the headboard and tie them up with the same scarf I used before. Wanda's hips jerk in the air, her lip disappears between her teeth as her eyes look up to me, a glint to them that makes wetness pool in my own underwear. I show her the other scarf in my hand, her brows furrow slightly in question.

"I want to try something." Wanda nods for me to continue as her eyes bounce from my face to the scarf. "Can I blindfold you?" 

"Yes." 

"Safe word babygirl."

"Red."

"Good girl." 

I use the silk scarf covering her eyes, using one hand to lift her head slightly before wrapping it around one more time and tying it up at the side of her head so she doesn't have to rest on the knot. I move the layers of the scarf up and down to make sure her eyes are fully covered.

"This okay Princess."

"It's perfect baby." I leave a peck on her nose before climbing off her bed and I see her forehead scrunch with her eyebrow movements. "Where are you going?"

"I'm still here princess. Just watching you." Wanda rubs her thighs together more. 

"Why are you watching? Come here and help me." Her voice husky with lust.

"I want to watch you get worked up before I bring you to the edge." A small moan leaves Wanda's lips and I continue. "So I want you to think about me. Tell me what you want me to do. What would I do to you to give you the best orgasm ever?" 

"Touch me." Her voice a whisper, so I move a little closer to the bed to be able to hear her.

"Where?" 

"Anywhere." 

"Think about it Wanda. Let your mind go wild." A guttural moan leaves her lips as her thighs continue to rub together. 

(Wanda PoV)

Y/ns hands are massaging away at my breasts, her lips on my pulse point as her teeth leave an indent before her warm slick tongue soothes the spot over. My hand grabs onto her hair as I pull her face closer to me, I feel her smirk against my skin as she drags her tongue down my throat. She stops at the little dip by the bottom of my throat, starting to suck and drag her teeth over it causing me to suck in a harsh breath. Her hands continue to massage my breasts, her fingers and thumbs tweaking my nipples getting them to harden. I feel her smirk against my throat once she feels them stand to attention and she starts to move her kisses further down leaving marks as she moves her mouth to the valley between my breasts.

She cups my left breast, her lips ghosting over my hardened nub and my back arches at the feeling trying to get her to take it into her mouth. She drags her tongue over it, my whole body twitches and my hips buck trying to find some sort of relief from my growing arousal. She finally takes the nub into her mouth, her tongue swirling around it, tweaking my other one in-between her fingers at the same time. I feel her teeth graze my nipple and a filthy moan leaves my mouth as my back arches into her more. She swaps sides, continuing to work a nipple between her fingers and the other with her tongue and teeth. The wetness in my underwear is getting almost unbearable as they stick to my core and thighs, my slick pooling in them and down my thighs. 

My grip in her hair tightens when I feel her hand travel down my body to the hem of my underwear, dragging her thumb across the skin of my hip. I buck my hips once more to try and get her to move it further, anything. I'm so fucking close and she hasn't even touched me yet, not really. Her mouth releases my nipple with a pop, her face coming level with mine. Her eyes dark with lust, as she moves her lips to my ear her hot breath causes goosebumps to spread across my naked body, and I feel a shiver go down my spine.

"Want do you want babygirl?" 

"You." I moan out when she slides her thumb further down making contact with my clit as she starts to lightly circle it. 

"What do you want me to do?" 

"Just fuck me already." I buck my hips trying to get her hand to slide down further, but groan when she removes her hand completely. Her other one coming up to my neck giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Be a good girl and ask nicely." 

"Please fuck me. Use me. I need you to touch me please." My head rolls back on the pillow, a pornagraphic moan leaving my mouth as she takes my ear lobe between her teeth, pushing two fingers into my entrance with no warning. My hands fly to hold onto her shoulder blades as her thrusts start off rough, her face now buried in the crook of my neck as she doesn't relent. The moans and gasps leave my mouth unfiltered as she continues her rough thrusts, my nails dragging down her back as her lips and teeth make contact with a soft spot on my neck and I feel her bury her teeth against it with my reaction, her hand tightening more on my throat. I love the closeness of our bodies and the roughness of her thrusts as I get closer and closer to the edge, her name spilling out of my lips like a prayer. She must be enjoying it to as she adds another finger stretching me out as she goes knuckle deep into me, her thumb makes contact with my clit and my eyes roll back and my back arches off the bed.

"Don't stop. I'm gonna come. Baby don't you dare stop."

"Babygirl, what are you thinking about?" Her voice brings me out of my daydream, opening my eyes but everything is dark. Right the blind fold. I subconsciously rub my thighs together and moan at how wet I am just from that. She hasn't hasn't touched me once, and I could come like this. "What's got you so wet?" 

"You." I feel the end of the bed dip, her hands placed on my feet before she slides them up my leg to my very wet legs and what I can only assume ruined underwear. Her hands move to the insides of my thighs, pushing them apart and I gasp at the feeling of the cold air that makes contact with my soaking hot core. Her hands grip up closer and closer to where I need her, my hips bucking at the feeling. Y/ns hand moves to hold my hips down and I moan at the dominance.

"Does my babygirl need me?" I can hear the smirk in her voice but at this point I don't fucking care.

"Yes please, I need you so fucking bad. Please baby." I feel a sense of relief wash over me as her hands drag down my underwear throwing them into the room.

"It's okay I've got you babygirl." Her hands stay on my hips and my body buzzes with pure excitement at what she is about to do when I feel her hot breath against my core, more arousal pooling between my thighs. "This is all for me babygirl."

"All for you...God fuck Y/n." My words get interrupted as I feel her tongue dive right into my entrance without warning. The warm strong muscle diving in deep as she dances it around inside me. I pull on the scarf, trying to put my hand in her hair but groan when they don't move. Y/n groans against my core as my hips buck slightly and it sends a shiver all the way up my spine. My head rolls back into the pillow, my eyes roll to the back of my head as my back arches so high I feel like it could snap.

"I'm going to cum...shit Y/n...I'm Cummings." My orgasm hits hard and a loud guttural moan escapes my lips, as I see stars and feel like I'm being transported to a whole new place. My back lands back on the bed, y/n cleans up my core as she helps me through the aftershocks. My breathing is still uneven when she removes the blindfold, but my breath hitches at the state of her face, a proud smirk on her face.

"You taste amazing." 

"That was...just fucking hell. We have to do that again. Sorry about the mess." I blush grows on my cheek as her tongue pokes out her lips getting as much of it as she can. "Here let me help."

Y/n leans down and I moan and the taste of myself on her face as I clean my arousal off of her face. As my mouth travels around her face, I feel her arms move upwards and the scarf around my hands loosens enough for me to pull my hands out of the bind. They instantly move to cup Y/n's face as I pull her in for a passionate kiss, loving the feeling of her tongue as it explores my mouth. Her knee ends up against my core, and I moan into her mouth which she happily swallows. My hips start to rut against her knee and thigh, bringing myself closer and closer still sensitive from the first orgasm. My moans grow louder and louder, my hand moving to the back of Y/n's neck for support my nails leaving half crescent indents. She pushes her leg against me more while tensing it and it's enough to send me into another blinding orgasm leaving another mess behind. 

Just as I felt Y/n's hand moving down for another round we freeze when we hear something.

"Mom, we're home!"

================================

[msanonymous]

“How do you become a poet?”

Always looking/ Hardly speaking/ Defending the moon/ Disappearing from the room/ As if you were never even there/ Drinking more caffeine than breathing air/ Instead of falling in love with smiles, looking at them & just wondering why they don't reach it to that person's eyes?/ Instead of getting lost in the eyes, reading the sadness in them & wondering why they cried themselves to sleep at nights?/ Unsaid words, lots of them, so many that your mind gets fully clogged up with them, & at nights they threaten to spill out from your eyes as teardrops/ Unsent letters, loads of them, too many hidden well in your secret drawers, because of the fear of one accidentally landing in someone's letter box/ “Where is your home?”/ I don't know/ Strangers to friends. Within years. Friends to strangers again. Within a heartbeat/ I think I've seen this film before & I didn't like the ending/ Too many films of memories, playing in your head all together at the same time/ Too many stories of your life, having the similar last page, with the same last line/ “You are not enough!”/ Am I really not made for love?/ Lying to the whole world. “I'm fine”/ Lying to your therapist. “I'm fine, other people have it so much worse than me”/ Lying to your parents. “I'm fine.” “Then why are you crying?” “I'm not, I'm fine”/ Lying to yourself. ‘I'm fine.’ ‘No, you're not. You know you're not.’ ‘I know! But does it matter? No. It doesn't. There are hearts more hurt than ours.’ ‘But then why are you crying?’/ Daydreams & what-ifs/ Always finding yourself at the edge of the cliffs/ Envying & smiling sadly at the people who are poetry/ “I read your poem. It's beautiful!” What about me?/ Not touching your diary for months/ Then writing 6 poems in a day, after receiving 6 brand new cuts/ When no matter what pen you choose to write with, fountain, ball point, glitter gel, the ink you'll see after completing the last line will all be blood/ & then there's suddenly blood everywhere. Blood, so much blood. You lift your shaky hands & find both of your palms covered in it. You cover your eyes with them & sob, drowning in your own flood/ & you just keep praying to God for it to be your own. That the cracks of heart from all this blood seeped through, please God, let it be mine. Let it be mine/ The world hurts you enough everyday. But the last thing you want to do is to hurt the world back in your lifetime/ Mastering the art of stitching the wounds. But never for yours/ Other people have it so much worse. You don't deserve any of the cures/ Letting the wounds you think you deserve bleed/ Continuously, trying to not pay the pain any heed/ But still failing/ & weeping & weeping/ Then picking up the quill & dipping it in the aorta of your heart/ & attempting to create art/ But I think I'm not the right person to answer this question/ Because I am too inexperienced & unfamiliar with that profession/ Because as for me, I'm just a girl looking out of her window, waiting for someone to come & look at her/ & just not look away after/ I'm not a poet, how can I never be?/ But I do think/ That poets are not something that people become/ It's a mask. That people buy one day, at the price of heartbreaks & shattered hopes, to put on & hide the ugly & weak personas of them/ It's something people have to do, you know?/ Because the world can barely tolerate the poets. How many more wounds do you think you can sustain? & how many rocks do you think the world will throw?/ When you'll step out of your room/ As you?

~ms.anonymous

[stardewstardropthoughts]

Harvey is my go to bachelor in stardew but I've been thinking...

What if you break up/divorce him and start avoiding him, but one day, you pass out in the mines (literally on the verge of death) and have to be rushed to his clinic. </3

The pure heartbreak

I'm so sorry this is written like absolute garbage because it's been so long and I genuinely might rewrite this one at some point lmao but for now I offer this 💙

Content warnings: this one's not written as well as I would like, angst, No comfort, near death, hospital stuff terribly written also, gender neutral reader, all my hospital knowledge is from grey's anatomy I'm so sorry 😂

When you almost die in the mines and Harvey has to take care of you after you broke up with him

You never gave harvey an explanation as to why you broke up with him, it was something you were dealing with on your own and you thought youd only drag him down with you so you decided to break it off with him

You had been avoiding him around town, opting to avoid your scheduled wellness checks and see a doctor in the next town, which hurt harveys feelings lowkey

He still desperately loves you, hes been blaming himself for the breakup, worried he was too clingy or too overbearing and that you felt suffocated, but you wouldnt talk to him, so he couldnt ask the questions he had

Next thing he knew it was around midnight, someone was pounding on the door to the clinic and harvey almost didnt answer, but decided it was probably important given the time and how loud they were being

Harveys immediately panicking when he sees you, looking rather lifeless in Demetrius's arms. "I found them just inside the mines like this, i dont know what happened but i thought id best bring them to you" he explained to harvey who was immediately thanking him, directing him to place you on a hospital bed

"Come on, your gonna be okay, dont die on me now sweetheart" harvey mumbles to himself as he assesses your injuries, his heart is breaking at the sight, your barely breathing, pulse slow and weak, he has to drain blood from your lungs, after many hours of work your stable, still unconscious but stable

Harvey had a whole panic attack as he sits by your bedside, he wouldnt leave you if his life deoended on it at this moment, "your going to be alright, i cant lose you again my love" he mumbles softly as he holds one of your hands gently, his eyes are puffy and red from crying

When you wake up hours later your confused and disoriented, looking around the room, your eyes land on harvey, whos looking at you nervously "you were badly injured, Demetrius carried you here" he explained softly, gently squeezing your hand "you....i know i have no right to ask you to stay out of the mines, but please, be more careful, you could have died" he manages to say through a tight knot in his throat at the thought

"Im sorry" you manage to say, though your voice is strained, harvey looks like an absolute wreck and you feel horrid "dont apologize, your alive love, thats all i could ask for" he whispers quietly as he squeezes your hand

"I...." You begin trying to explain to him why you broke up with him to begin with, but the words dont seem to want to come out of your mouth, "rest" harvey says, getting up to check your vitals and make sure your improving before leaving the room, he needs a moment to compose himself from his near continuous break down

[don1t1red]

I know that this is a very unpopular opinion but hear me out!

I think not enough people consider Corvo as an unreliable narrator. We see the story from his point of view and all we know about Jessamine Kaldwin comes from his perspective. So, to think on that, do we really know how good Jessamine was as the Empress? 

I know that she is usually portrayed as a good person if not a saint but what if it wasn't that way? A lot of people in the streets are indifferent towards her image, if not hostile; the situation with Delilah; how both Geoff Curnow and Corvo are treated because of their nationality; two hatters recalling how greatly Corvo dealt with workers uprising under her command  – a lot of things are a tell-tale signs that something is not quite right. 

And at this point I have to clarify that I'm not saying things like "boo no I hate Jessamine". No, it's actually quite the opposite, I love her character. But the way it is usually portrayed seems to be so dull and static. Let her not be a saint. 

Let her be manipulative. Let her tell Corvo that "he is not like other serkonans, he is sooo special and that's why he is where he is and not somewhere deep in the silver mine", while being (just as any nobility in Gristol) not very welcome to any outlanders. 

Let her be power-hungry and afraid to lose this power. Remember a bonecharm in her hidden room in the Tower? Who knows how it ended up here! Maybe she knew (or felt) that Delilah was coming, capable of overpowering and taking everything from her. Maybe Jessamine was so afraid to lose her posh life that she was ready to use some kind of a black magic! 

Let her be disloyal. Obviously, she and Corvo developed some kind of codependency. But along with that, she was the Empress so who could stop her from having an affair or two? And Corvo was just the safest option, with a way less unnecessary risks and questions. 

Let her be an imperfect person. 

Obviously, Jessamine could be easily born a perfect ruler and a perfect loving woman for her chosen one and her daughter. But maybe she had to learn it the hard way. 

Maybe she changed along with Corvo. Maybe the plague was a critical point for her character, maybe those months without Corvo made her rethink a lot of things. 

And isn't it tragic, finally understanding and becoming the Empress everyone wants to see in you, just to be killed the other day, because all those changes have been seen as a weakness? Have nothing but faith in your closest one, faith that these people will be more wise than she was? 

Give her some development, give her some motion! She could easily  be a saint, static point.  But in my opinion, she deserves to be not perfect but in constant motion. Trying and learning, understanding and making mistakes. She was too young when she became the Empress, she was a part of gristolian nobility, not so kind to anyone but themselves, she literally had no prerequisites to become a good person. And yet somehow she did. 

It's always so easy to be a "saint" from the very beginning. And it's always so hard to learn how to become one.

[mllemaenad]

...I am going to regret asking this, I know, but what was the thing with Preston, and how far should I steer clear of that particular mod, as a Preston fan?

Oh. I ... would very much not recommend you playing this. This is very much the story of how I made a mistake.

So ... I can occasionally be a bit rash about installing mods, particularly if they offer new quests. It's a weakness of mine. It has meant that I have found the occasional overlooked gem, but it has also meant that sometimes I'm left flailing and wishing I could unsee what I just saw.

And my theory of mods is very much inline with my theory of fanfic: there is going to be so much stuff out there that is not to my taste, and if I don't like it I should back the hell out of it and never tell the author what I thought. It's just ... slightly more complicated to back out of a mod install than it is a fanfic.

Now I've looked it, there's a suite of three mods here: Depravity, Outcasts and Remnants and Project Valkyrie. They seem to enjoy considerable popularity, and they offer alternative routes through the main quest line, with a bunch of additional side quests to go along with them. In a fit of boredom I thought ... why not?

They're also big, foundational mods. If you go into a modding forum you'll find a lot of finger wagging about how you should never uninstall any mod mid game; you should always start a new save. But ... if I find at hour 60 that an armour mod is crashing my game, I'm uninstalling that thing and rolling the dice on going forward. These ones, though ... once they're in, you'll never get an ongoing save to load properly without them. Too big. Too many changes. You need a new game to uninstall.

So I did, to my later chagrin, put up with some indicators that these mods were not for me when I should have bitten the bullet and started over. The early stuff involved collaborating with a slaver and ... well, no thank you, really, but it did say it offered some "evil" options for progressing quests in places where there were only good ones. So, okay, more role playing options are broadly a good thing even if I don't want to engage with them very much; it also suggested that it had alternate "good" routes in other places, so I assume it wasn't just trying to be edgy. And there was a bunch of nonsense with raider women running around in absurd outfits, and female characters with ... let's say improbable proportions.

It can be interwoven with normal questing, though, so it was a thing I'd run into occasionally when going into the mod's storyline. Otherwise, I could just keep collecting companions and play on.

But what stopped me dead was the Preston thing. A core part of the mod's story centres around a group of Lyons loyalists who had become "outcasts" themselves as part of the regime change and fled to the Commonwealth well before the arrival of the Prydwen (an interesting concept, even if this take on it did not work for me).

They are, from their impossibly gigantic and well equipped base, investigating who is funding the Gunners. Well, spoilers, the answer to that question turns out to be the Enclave. You attack their base and fight your way to the bottom. And you find a terminal. The terminal reveals that Preston Garvey has been lying to you. He is, in fact, an Enclave officer who infiltrated the Minutemen specifically to collaborate with the Gunners on orchestrating the fall of Quincy. His superiors are currently annoyed with him because he's having too much fun stringing you along to come back to base and take on his next job.

The mod then invites you to confront and kill Preston for his crimes.

Does this make any sense to me, or in any way conform with the way Preston behaves in a normal, unmodded game? Nope. And yet. I'm sure there's more to it, but at that point I swore, accepted the fact that I had wasted an unreasonable number of hours trying to give this a fair chance (it's so popular), and set about scouring it from my game and starting over.

Terrible mistake.

I will note that, obviously, on a technical level this thing is very impressive. Voiced dialogue, scripted scenes, new dungeons, multiple quest lines – the lot. I can ... add keywords to an item in xEdit, in a pinch.

But the storyline was very much not for me. It seems to be accepted, at least by some corners of the fandom, that Preston is incurably annoying. I do not share this sentiment, but I can't tell people who to like. But this ... thing where they have to rewrite a good man as a villain so they can justify killing him is just ... baffling.

So my general advice would be: benefit from my error and keep your distance from these ones.

[alliskit]

The Grand Design.

On AO3.

CH. 2: Horror Movies Aren't Scary When You're Living In A Nightmare.

- Gale really does try; thank you Gale for always trying - Alligators - Everyone loves a cowboy shootout - Nobody loves a weak link (with a kid in tow)

I was a pool of liquid, weeping, as I stared up at Sylas' precious worried face, smoke rising behind him. We were still on the staircase surrounded by a devastated Nautiloid. Everything was broken apart and on fire. But we were alive.

He was alive.

A bruise painted his cheekbone, probably from when we hit the stairs or during the actual crash that caused me to pass out. But, he seemed fine otherwise. 

"How did..." my voice came out clogged and scratchy.

"The alien guy put us in a purple bubble and protected us," he finished.

"Is the alien guy..." 

Sylas shook his head. His eyes went distant, probably remembering something horrific I had been unconscious for. I sat up and pulled him to my chest, "We're alive, that's what matters."

I felt him nod in agreement, even if it seemed like hollow acceptance. Looking around, it was pure carnage. Bodies of a few aliens and several, what looked like humans, were strewn about. We needed to get out and see if we could find some help. "Come on, love, let's get out of here."

We stood up, making a move to climb down the remaining stairs. "And go home?" he asked.

Considering I hadn't heard an update on our location since the alien mentioned Toril, the chance of going home was a long shot, but that wasn't something I wanted to tell my six-year old who was on the verge of a breakdown. So, instead, I said, "Let's try to get home, okay?"

He put his hand in mine as we stepped carefully through the wreckage. It was a miracle we were alive. Besides my distaste for being abducted, the tentacled aliens had been kinder than expected. I fully anticipated being an experiment and, surely was about to be, but part of me thanked the small kindness they exhibited to keep us alive. It was something they didn't have to do. 

"Mom, look!" My heart jumped a little. The last time he said those words, we were taken. "Footprints," he added. I thought of the three who had taken control of the ship. Maybe one of them lived, maybe they all did. Hope lit like a small spark over old coals. 

"Let's follow and see if it leads somewhere we can get help." I pushed a little between his shoulders moving him forward as we followed the footprints in the sand. Sadly, the sand quickly began to pack into harder ground, erasing the prints at the top of the small hill. 

"Whoa, what's that?" Sylas asked pointing. 

As we stared at the swirling vortex in a rock, I realized I would be answering that question a lot.

"I'm not sure, bud, but stay back here. I just want to make sure it's safe." To be completely honest, it was pure curiosity, not protection, that drew me to check it. I jumped back as a hand shot out waving from the void. 

"Is that a hand?" my son asked from several feet away.

"Yeah, I think it is," I replied watching it wiggle back and forth. 

A voice called out of the hole in a language I didn't know. "What did he say?" Sylas called. 

I looked back at him, "How do you know it's a he?"

He shrugged, "Sounded like it? I dunno. Maybe a lady with a deep voice?"

"Guess we're about to find out." I turned placing a foot on the rock near the swirling and gripped the hand, pulling back hard. I didn't anticipate the feeling of being sucked forward and ended up twisting harder than I realized in response. The new person and I flailed as they landed on top of me, hitting the packed ground with a grunt. Sylas had been right about them being a man. We awkwardly rolled off one another, the stranger's face reddening in embarrassment and mine with effort. 

He talked with his hands, saying something I assumed was his translation of "I'm so sorry". I waved him off kindly, signalling it was alright. 

He asked me a direct question. I stared at him trying to consider what to do. Sylas beat me to it. "What is he saying, Mommy?"

I turned my attention to my son, "I can't understand him, we don't speak the same language. I'm not sure what to do now."

Sylas shrugged again and stared, concerned, at the new man.

I looked back at our new companion dressed in a weathered, and now dirt stained, purple robe with shoulder length brown hair pulled back and a five o'clock shadow gracing his face. He was what I would consider conventionally attractive. He had a tattoo creeping out of his chest over his collarbones and up his neck on the same side as a silver earring. If he had two, he was now missing the other. He watched me and Sylas with compassion and empathy and held up a finger to signal to wait.

Sylas gasped in delight as the man spoke, moving his hands in a practiced motion, weaving around purple light into different shapes. He walked over to me and spoke again as he touched me lightly on the shoulder. He smiled and nodded, then held out his hand, saying, what I can only assume was his name and possibly hello. But, it was still in his own language. I watched him in confusion and he looked confused back, then looked down at his hand, concerned. 

He did the spell again quicker, then touched his chest. He pointed at me then at his mouth, saying something else. 

"I think he wants you to say your name," Sylas added. 

I raised a brow at him, "I got that, but thank you."

"And I got that," the stranger added.

I flicked my head to him, "How..."

"A spell of tongues to do the trick," he smiled. 

Sylas stepped up to my side, "Did you just do magic?"

His kind smile spread into pure enthusiasm. "Ah, a quick young man, I see. Yes, it was indeed magic. Have you no mages where you're from?"

Sylas shook his head. "No, only clowns and they aren't real. They're just dress up."

"Many a clown is simply dressed as a man," the stranger quipped.

The six-year old stared blankly up at the man.

"A little over your head then," He turned to me as I licked the inside of my cheek trying not to laugh. The man had some jokes. "I'm Gale of Waterdeep."

I pointed at myself, "Abigail of..." There was a very slim chance this complete stranger from another planet, possibly another dimension, knew of Earth.

He smiled politely, "It's alright, you don't have to say. Unless, you can't remember?"

"We live in Washington," Sylas interjected. 

Gale squatted down and held out his hand, "Gale of Waterdeep, to whom do I have the pleasure of thanking for my grand rescue?"

Sylas held out his hand to shake Gale's, "My name is Sylas Andrews. Why are you wearing a dress?"

Gale flinched as he shook my son's hand, but recovered quickly. Then looked down at his robe, feigning shock. "Why it's no dress, but a great wizards' robe!"

"Whatever you say," Sylas teased.

"I'm so sorry," I added quickly. 

Gale shook his head, "It's quite alright, I assure you. Children are notoriously cheeky."

"Do you have children, Gale?" he had been so quick to entertain Sylas. It was easy to guess the man either had children or was an attentive uncle. 

He rubbed the back of his neck, awkwardly. "I am flattered you think me so well adjusted to children. Alas, I have none of my own."

I nodded, absently. The conversation started to die between us. 

I watched as he quietly took me in completely for the first time. I was clad in a dirty t-shirt and jeans, with hiking boots and my gun safely holstered at my waist. Sylas was in a t-shirt as well as cargo shorts and boots (Leave the description or trash it? Necessary or need a Faerun equivalent? Add to the list of things to invent here - I will make millions). A flash of concern and confusion was followed by a kind grin as he pointed at me, "You were on the Nautiloid as well, I take it."

"The space ship was super weird. And the aliens were so ugly, but they were nice," Sylas interrupted.

Gale's brow rose, "We clearly had differing experiences," then he looked back to me, "We're you on the receiving end of an unwelcome insertion?"

I laughed oddly thinking about the grubby worm that chewed through the other abductee's eye, then shook my head, "I got lucky. They did try, though."

Gale's brows bunched in apparent confusion and wonder. "How, might I ask did you avoid that?"

I pursed my lips as I signaled with my eyes to my son.

"A long story, one for another time, I presume," he added slyly.

I nodded, looking down at a suspicious Sylas, "A very long and boring story."

Gale gave me a mischievous grin, winking in understanding. "Well, first, thank you for pulling me out of that stone. Hopefully, I will have ample opportunities to return the favor."

"You're the first human I've seen that's not dead, so it would be nice to team up. I assume, by your previous question, that you have a worm in your head?"

Gale sighed, "Unfortunately, I've been made an involuntary host. I may have only a few days to live if we don't find someone to extract it."

"Days?" I felt my face contort in muted horror. I truly did get lucky. "I watched them place one in someone else's eye and it looked like it chewed straight through, but your eye is intact," I examined his inset dark eyes under strong brows. Purple had begun to collect under them, which I knew I must have too. I was starting to feel the exhaustion of the last 24 hours. If it had been simply 24 hours. 

As if thinking along the same lines, a small voice perked up, "I'm hungry. Can we get some food?" 

Gale glanced down at Sylas, "Do you happen to like apples, young man?"

Sylas nodded.

"Then I have just the thing." With a swish of his hands and a whispered word, a bag appeared from thin air.

"Cool!" Sylas' eyes grew twice as big as he watched the wizard work. Gale drew out the drama by pretending to dig around deep in the bag for the apple before tossing it over to the boy.

"I've never heard use of a temperate description as an exclamation. Alas, I'm getting older." 

I shrugged, "You and me both. How old are you anyway?"

"I'll be thirty and eight years in a couple months. May I ask your age?" he responded politely.

"I'm thirty five. Six at the end of the year... Well, I don't know how your calendar works, but I guess it would technically be midwinter."

Gale furrowed his brows again, "How my calendar works? Surely, we use the same dating systems, even if we hail from different regions."

I paused, then added, "Possibly. We could very well have the same one. I guess we will have to check one. I'm not sure how long we were on the"

"Space ship," Sylas interrupted again.

Gale looked confused at the boy, "Why do you keep calling it a 'space' ship?"

Sylas' teeth crunched through another bite, his mouth full, "Because that's what it is."

Gale lifted his brows at me and I shook my head stifling a laugh. Then I glanced around us at the landscape which seemed to be shaped out of some canyons. "Did you see any other survivors before getting stuck?"

Gale shook his head, "But we should seek a healer. Well, I should, but you're welcome to join me. You don't happen to be some kind of cleric do you?"

"To be honest, Gale, I don't know what that is."

Gale's brows bunched again, "I see. Tell me again where you hail from?"

"Seattle," Sylas answered.

I leaned over awkwardly toward my son, "I don't think he knows where that is, my love."

Sylas looked up at me in confusion as Gale looked at us suspiciously. "Which, pray tell, region is this Sea Attel located?"

Sylas watched Gale like he was an idiot for asking. "Washington state, in the country of America," he stated flatly.

"And where is this America?" Gale asked.

"On a different planet," I answered quickly.

Gale's eyes went wide. "Which planet?"

"Earth," Sylas answered with a tone. 

I turned to my son, going full mom mode. "Sylas. We're clearly no longer on Earth. We saw aliens, dragons, demons, and he can do real magic. Don't talk to him like he should know better. That's rude." 

"Sorry," he said under his breath. "We're not on Earth, mommy?" 

Gale answered instead, "You, my well traveled friend, are on Toril, on the continent of Faerun... I think. I can't guarantee we aren't on the other side of my own planet."

"Is that why he doesn't speak English?" Sylas asked.

"Yes, honey. He's not from America so he speaks a different language. But, remember, people speak lots of different languages even in America."

"Sounds just like Faerun." Gale smiled haughtily, "I, actually, speak several languages and can read them too."

Sylas pursed his lips and nodded, impressed. I laughed, I had never seen him make the face before. 

"Glad I could impress such a fine young mind. Well," he held his arm out, "Let's see if we can't find more of us. And hopefully a healer."

As we took to walking around the wreckage for possible survivors, Gale leaned in, "I'm going to need you to tell me everything about where you're from. It sounds fascinating."

I held out my hand, "Only if you do the same."

"It's a deal." He slipped his hand into mine, but as I gripped his, he quickly pulled his out of my grasp. "Sorry," he said quickly, as he flexed a fist.

"It's okay," I said slowly, as I watched him strut ahead of our small group.

[Gale affix: 

Meeting you was a most unique experience. I simultaneously wanted to make you feel at ease, as well as garner as much pertinent information about you as I could for an overall assessment. You and Sylas spoke and were dressed unlike any I had ever come across, and I had met many an individual from differing locales and planes of existence. You still carry the most distinct of accents, even now that you're fluent. It always brings me joy to hear you speak.

Also, please include a reference about shaking your hands. I'm unsure if you were privy to my discomfort, but it surely spooked me!]

As we turned a corner, Gale threw out his staff to stop us from running into whatever he had walked into. My heart lifted for a millisecond as two familiar faces came into view, alongside a new one. But my anxiety seized the measly hope at the sounds of yelling, growling, and what seemed like threats over brandished weapons and gnashing jaws. 

Gale turned to Sylas and I, "Let me see what's the matter and if it can be handled with diplomacy. If not, we will make a swift exit. Just stay here for now."

We saw him make his way to the new group. The others assessed him cautiously, but the black-haired one and the dragon-man settled after a few shared words. The last to respond was the one who had brandished a knife. Gale shook hands with the more receiving two, then the pale elf gave his hand, reluctantly. 

I looked around the scenery as Gale continued his conversation with the new group. The large river was clear and seemed to cut through the canyons. I hoped we hadn't landed in Faerun's equivalent of my own realm's large uninhabited forests, which we call National Parks in my home country of America. Hundreds of miles of nothing but wilderness, no civilization in sight. I doubted there was some kind of a National Guard or Forest Ranger Service that would be sent out to rescue survivors. But, I also hoped we hadn't landed on some kind of small town, decimating it, or next to a large city to be arrested like fugitives.

I rubbed my chest. My heart beat erratically, causing a pain to start thrumming. An anxiety attack was imminent. It felt as if no amount of Faerun's freshest air could fill my lungs fast enough. 

"Mommy?" a small voice asked, breaking my thoughts.

I looked down at my son. He pointed. Walking up to us were the newcomers led by Gale. My heart felt like it was going to rip through my rib cage. Hopefully, Gale had given them all that weird tongues spell. 

The black-haired warrior walked up first, hand ready, but Gale threw his arm out. She looked up at him in confusion and irritation, but it dissipated as she listened to him explain what I assumed was an explanation on how I couldn't understand her. Instead, she stopped short and gave a little awkward wave and grin. I waved back just as awkwardly.

Gale, finally, turned to Sylas and I. "These are more survivors of the crash. They, also, have been, what we are coining, 'tadpoled'. So, they will be joining us." He indicated to the other woman, "This is Shadowheart. She is a cleric." He nodded to the dragon-faced one on his right, "This is Durge, he is what we call a Dragonborn. He seems to have been injured in the crash..." Durge said something to Gale. "Or possibly as he was being abducted, and is having memory issues. He thinks he may be a sorcerer or wizard of some kind. And," he stepped aside to reveal the final companion, the pale elf, "This is Astarion. He's an elf from Baldur's Gate." 

The elf, with his arms crossed, eyed me with disdain, scanning me from my toes to my head, his face exhibiting his disapproval. I met his gaze and actively rolled my eyes, like a teen who refused to be bullied. I wasn't the one who might die in a few days, so let him judge. He looked like a court jester in his frilly doublet and could probably use some time touching grass.

Gale turned to the others again, introducing us in his language. I nodded and held up my hand in a small wave, while Sylas just stood there.

"Can they understand us, Mommy?"

I looked down at his small head, "I don't think so, hon. Why?"

Gale glanced back at Sylas, "With this spell, whenever I speak directly to you, you will hear your own language, but not when I speak directly to someone else."

He stood quiet, nodding, deciding whether to say something, "I'll tell you later," he responded. I guessed he didn't want to risk it and I rubbed his back in reassurance. I felt someone watching and saw Shadowheart smiling softly at us. I smiled back. 

"Well, I guess we had better get moving," Gale announced.

Shadowheart said something to Gale, looking back at Sylas and I, before stepping past him down the path she had been on earlier. 

"Shadowheart said to tell you to check crates and bodies for supplies. If pilfering off of corpses isn't to your taste, then don't worry about it. But, if you find anything of use, you can put it in my bag of holding."

Sylas stepped past me and up next to the wizard as the elf and the dragonborn followed after Shadowheart. "What's a bag a' holding?"

Gale smiled down at Sylas as we continued after the others around the wreck site, "It's an enchanted backpack that has no bottom. You reach in and think of what you want to find and it will put it in your hand. Though, you have to place it in the bag first. You can't just ask for anything. This isn't a djinn lamp."

Sylas' face quickly went from wonder to confusion, "What's a djinn?"

"A genie, like in the Aladdin movie," I added. (oh to have movies and tv shows...)

"Oh! The blue guy with the wishes?" Sylas said excitedly.

"Yes, what Gale is saying is that you can't just reach into the bag and pull out whatever you want. Just like any backpack, you have to put it in first. But, there's a lot more space in Gale's bag than what it looks like on the outside."

Sylas nodded, his face considering the new information. "Can I try it?"

Gale smiled, "Absolutely!"

As the wizard pulled the bag once again from thin air, I walked around the two to walk behind the other group of three as they stepped through more of the crash site. 

"More of those wretched things!" Shadowheart exclaimed, as brains with legs bolted toward us. I had missed them on our trip through the ship, thankfully. The gods of this world were creative. 

I watched in rapt amazement as she threw what looked like pure light at one of them, but missed, leaving a scorch mark on the floor. 

The Dragonborn had started running after another with a small red sword, while the elf next to me unsheathed a dagger in wait.

I looked back and saw Gale standing guard in front of a shocked Sylas. I turned back to the fight and drew my gun, clicking the safety off, as a brain scurried out from being nearly cut in half by Durge's blade. All three were now bolting in my direction.

The elf mumbled something and I turned to see him smiling maliciously. I didn't have time to analyze him and turned my attention to the screeching brains (gods it was so gross to hear them make noise). As they grouped within a few feet of me, I pulled the trigger. Three echoing shots later, they laid in a small heap a few feet from me. 

Everyone else stood in shades of awe and distress, staring at me holding the hand gun. I glanced around sheepishly. Even Gale had paled a little. "You're welcome?" I said breaking the silence.

Shadowheart eyed the weapon suspiciously, then me, nodded, and walked off a little quicker than before. I turned to Astarion, who had been excited at the prospect of killing the beasts, who was now looking at the gun with the same level of amusement. I looked up at Durge who was just watching me like some kind of animal in the distance. I holstered the gun on my waistband clip and walked back to check on Gale and Sylas. 

Gale watched me carefully, eyeing the gun on my waistband. “I think I can guess as to how you escaped our fate.”

I gave him an awkward smile, “I guess you could.”

Gale ushered us after the others as they continued to pass through the ship toward the river. 

Sylas pulled on my shirt. I leaned over to him, him smirking up at me, "That was really cool, mommy."

I gave him a high five.

[Jen note: That gun was so loud! Of course we got used to hearing it, but in the metal cavern, it was deafening. Gods I thought my ear drums had burst.]

We camped inside of an old crypt. I have camped in a cemetery on Halloween, a holiday in my country that celebrates death, and this was somehow creepier. 

I had joined in on checking sarcophagi for loot, but sleeping surrounded by them was a little disconcerting, like we were guaranteeing a midnight visitation. Not to mention the giant skeletal visage in a cloak looming over us in silent judgment as we passed around small bits of bread, cheese, fruit, and jars of water. I nearly expected to find my name etched on the scroll rolling out of it's hands.

We had no tents, just stolen dirty bed rolls. Well, Gale had a nicer bedroll from his bag of holding. He was polite enough to offer up spare food, but even Sylas would have to make due on what we had picked up from some of the adventurers Durge had scared off. My companions were able to get a hold of some more weapons and gear for themselves before we discovered the underground crypt, deciding to call it a day.

As we sat quietly eating around the fire, every small attempt at conversation seemed to die out among my companions. It wasn't as if Sylas or I could understand anyways. I had witnessed Gale repeat the tongues spell on himself several times throughout the day, which I gathered meant it only lasted so long. He had stopped after we had gotten situated, which meant his magic must have limits and we were all exhausted.

"Mommy?" I looked over at Sylas.

"Yes, love?" He was glancing around the small temple that had a few old chests and long dead scribes looking as if they may have simply fallen asleep on duty, never to wake. 

"Can I look around? I'm bored." 

I truly felt for him. He was stuck with four random adults on the most unusual camping trip of his life. "Sure, just don't go through any doors. If you find anything cool, just call for me, okay?"

He hopped up on excited feet, as he agreed. The others watched in curiosity and boredom as he started wandering around, then quickly went back to watching the fire, reading, sharpening weapons, or trying to rest. 

The group was odd. Now, without armor and robes, I could really get a good look at them.

The cleric, which Gale had described as some kind of battle nurse, was in some kind of armor underclothing. She was much more fit than I had anticipated, but it did make sense to her occupation. Looking down at my t-shirt, jeans, and bare feet, I realized I really needed to get back 'on the horse' when it came to being in shape. The gun allowed me to keep up for fighting, but when I ran out of bullets I was going to need to swing a sword and I definitely wasn't physically ready to do it.

Gale had taken off the outer robe and loosened the wrap shirt underneath. I could see the full extent of his tattoo over his sternum which looked bruised. He was much thinner than I realized. His collar bones were very prominent with a faint dipping of ribs over his chest. He looked like he could catch up on a few meals. The lines of his tattoo up his neck seemed to fade into the veins leading up to his left eye. It seemed like they might be connected. A magical tattoo for a wizard didn't seem so out of reach.

Durge, who was sharpening his blade, was covered in white scales, and when standing was well over six feet, a wall of muscle with red fiery eyes. It made sense why the dwarf adventurer and his team had folded so easily. He was physically intimidating, especially with his sharp teeth and horned head. I had to remind Sylas several times not to stare (as well as myself), especially after he stripped down to simply pants while we made camp. I found myself blushing a few times he looked my way. If he had been more human, I probably wouldn't have been able to look him in the eye without smiling like an idiot. I needed to tuck that thought away and deal with it later.

Lastly, was the elf. I had my share of attractive male friends throughout my lifetime, so I wasn't as affected by him as I was Durge. He was elegant as I expected any elf would be with high cheekbones on a symmetrical face, long pointed ears, and perfectly styled soft silver curls. It was as if he had stepped right out of one of the romantic fantasy books that were so popular these days. But, in the frilly laced undershirt, I noticed that he, too, seemed a little too skinny. Maybe skinny was Faerun's male social beauty standard. Or, maybe, both Gale and Astarion were a bit sickly. 

Red eyes caught my brown ones staring. He made a mocking sultry face, as if he were 'flattered' by my examination. I raised a brow in challenge and his face settled on a look of bored irritation as he went back to picking his oddly long nails. The red eye coloring was new to me. No one in my realm had true red eyes. Some with albinism sported almost pink or purple irises, but never blood red like the elf and the dragonborn in my camp. 

Watching those two companions in particular, I thought of an observation Sylas had made while we were setting up.

"The guy reminds me of the alligator at the zoo," Sylas said quietly.

"The albino one?" I asked at a similar volume. "Is it because he's part dragon?"

"The elf guy too."

I had eyed Astarion unbuttoning his doublet. "Why the elf guy?"

Sylas pointed to his teeth, "They both has sharp teeth." He snapped his teeth at me, "Just like the alligator."

Now, I watched Astarion bite down on his thumbnail, hooked it with a sharp canine tooth and pulled. A small disgust roiled in my gut. Apparently, Faerun had yet to invent some kind of nail clippers. 

"What's this?" I heard Sylas say from across the room.

A hissing sound spread through the sanctum. I froze as I heard the clanking of metal and bones, watching in horror as the dead rose. My three companions and I shot up whipping our heads around watching them rise all around us.

Stone sliding on stone and rounds of what I assumed were curses echoed through the room, muffling Sylas cry of, "Mommy!" as I bolted to where I assumed he was. My companions started yelling at one another as they readied their weapons, Durge letting out a loud roar.

Shadows cast by the campfire danced up the walls making it hard to spot our new assailants spread around the room. Then the dead started their attacks, both magical and physical.

I made it to the stairs that lead to the small room where Sylas was now hiding, but a harsh grip wrapped itself around my upper arm, yanking me back as I came face to face with Astarion as my back slammed up against the wall, demanding something.

"What?" I said automatically.

"I said where do you think you're going?" he repeated just as harshly.

I stood there speechless in shock.

"Oh don't go dumb now, where is the weapon from earlier?" he raked.

I automatically reached back to my hip, only to find it empty, my fear plastering across my features. "Shit. I left it next to my bedroll." I looked out over the din of the fight to see the skeletons had started to amass in the camping area, blocking my way to the gun. 

Astarion shoved a quiver of arrows against my chest, as he leaned his face close to mine, "I hope you know your useless runt is to blame for anything that happens to me. So, at least make yourself useful and pass me arrows when I tell you."

I didn't even have time to quip back at the insult before he spun around and shot off an arrow at a dead warrior who was aiming at Gale's head. It didn't kill it, if they could be killed, but it did knock it on its back. 

"Dock," Astarion commanded.

I slipped him another. Over and over, as we made our way carefully to my bedroll, I passed him arrows as he called out for them. He shot off a few fire bolts out of his fingers, meeting ice shards mid flight in our direction. 

"Do you have it?" he called out over his shoulder

I didn't answer. I simply stood and shot off a round into one of the skulls of a warrior standing nearby, the blast shattering bone across the floor. 

"I hope you know that what I'm shooting can pass through flesh and bone, and can ricochet off stone. And I can't retrieve them like arrows either," I yelled back.

"Then don't waste your shots," he called back. "Your left!"

I turned, and sure enough, another was taking aim. I shattered another skull, the rest of the bones crumbling into a heap.

Astarion shot off another fire bolt at the same time Gale threw a red one, both aiming true at the final adversary, finishing the small battle.

The elf whipped around to face me.

"You can speak my language?" I asked quickly.

"I forced the wizard. I wasn't about to do all the heavy lifting when your weapon is so efficient."

Durge laughed darkly from behind him, shaking his head, as if not in agreement with Astarion's self assessment. The dragonborn turned and headed into the alcove at the top of the small set of stairs. 

I faced the elf again, "If you'll excuse me, I need to check on my son. He's had one hell of a weekend. He's probably terrified. It's too bad he couldn't be more useful." I stepped around him, making sure to shove him a little with my shoulder. If he wanted to play the bully, I was game to see him try. 

I found Durge and Shadowheart standing and kneeling next to Sylas who had been crying while huddled in a corner. Shadowheart patted his knee while shushing, a small attempt at comfort. Durge was standing behind her, arms crossed, watching. He nodded to me as I came up next to Shadowheart. I heard steps behind me, but refused to turn around in case it was Astarion and not Gale. 

I opened my arms and my small boy fell into them. He sobbed, his cries the only sound in the stone room for several minutes. It felt as if he were crying for all of us. For the loss of home, the loss of autonomy, the loss of what could have been and what was. I doubted any of my companions ever expected to be standing in a dark tomb surrounded by the undead with bugs in their heads that would lead to their deaths. How fitting it was we were camping in a crypt.

As Sylas calmed I felt a hand rest on my shoulder. I looked into the soft and tired face of Gale as I felt Sylas start to nod off in my arms. Astarion and Shadowheart had already left the room, only Durge and Gale stayed. I grinned softly up at Gale and he nodded before walking off leaving only a dozing Sylas and Durge.

The imposing figure sank down to a knee before me, then leaned his face toward mine. "I can take him to bed if you would like."

Surprise colored my face. His voice was soft, but deep, his accent more like my own than the others. "Did Gale give you the tongues spell too?"

The dragon shook his head. "I've been able to understand you the entire time. I heard what he said about your alligators. Very observant. We've got alligators and dragons here too." He sighed, "I remember such random shit. I can barely remember my own name and I can't remember where I was a week ago, but I can remember alligators." He shook head, a side of his mouth tipping upwards slightly, "I don't know why I can understand you or speak your language, but I'm glad to be able to talk to you. I didn't want the others to ask questions I don't know how to answer, so if we can keep this our little secret for now, that would be helpful."

I nodded. "Of course." I watched his intense eyes stare at me with impossible softness. His facial structure was incredible, even being so distinctly reptilian, it was decidedly animated. 

He nodded toward Sylas, "I think he finally passed out. Let me get him." He reached down and scooped up my son with a surprising amount of gentleness, as if lifting a feather from the floor. 

I grinned softly up at him as we both stood, Sylas resting in Durge's large arms. "Thank you," I said quietly, setting a hand on his arm. 

Durge closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, sighing a little. He smiled without teeth, watching me. "You didn't have to do that, but gods, that was nice."

I tipped my head, "What do you mean?"

He stepped toward the doorway and looked back at me, "Your magic. It's... calming, peaceful." I cocked a brow and he chuckled quietly, deeply, "Looks like Astarion was wrong. You aren't a weak link after all." 

[Astarion affix:

I wish I could say that meeting you was eventful, but it was rather dismal. The only thing of note, which I doubt you were astute enough to decipher, was that when you rolled your eyes at me I decided then and there you would be my dinner. Whether that night or another, you were the mark. I do feel a bit of shame that I never once considered the implications on Sylas. I was too numb back then to care what happened to him. He was simply a small obstacle that I was willing to overlook. 

Well, if it's any consolation, we all know how it turned out.]

[skyeeuphixia]

𝚕𝚒𝚙 𝚐𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚐𝚑𝚎𝚛 // 𝚒 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔

lip gallagher x girlfriend oc (Delilah)

summary: in which lip is given an ultimatum

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warning/s: alcoholism, violence

words: 3.4k

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"I don't like it when you're drunk Lip. Find me when you're not."

That was the last thing that Delilah said before leaving the Gallagher house. 

Lip stayed glued to his spot as he stared after his girlfriend, his eyes filled with nothing but regret. He couldn't turn around. He couldn't face his siblings, or Kev or V, all of them stood behind him. 

He didn't want to see Veronica judging him. He didn't want to see Kevin looking shocked. He didn't want to see Debbie sad. He didn't want to see Carl and Ian angry. 

But most of all...

He didn't want to see Fiona look disappointed in him. 

2 years ago, when Lip asked Delilah out on a date. Fiona gave him one piece of advice:

'Don't fuck this up, cause that girl is special'

But now he's afraid he had done just that. 

How did he let himself get to this point? 

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After building up this reputation of being the family genius, it was a real smack in the face when he got to college and realised how difficult it was. Suddenly he wasn't a genius surrounded by stupid and average students anymore, now, everyone was smart, smarter than Lip, and he found himself unable to keep up.

College wasn't as easy as Lip believed it would be.

Lip excelled in school, acing every class, scores so high and consistent that a college professor believed he was a cheat (which Lip swiftly disproved) and the first Gallagher to get into college. 

Not to mention, he didn't realise that College would take up a lot of his free time as well. Sure in high school he'd get homework, but it would take about 30 minutes, and then he'd get the rest of the day to himself. But college was an entirely different story. He was drowning in assignments, a never-ending stream of readings, essays, and exams. He barely had time to sleep. Trying to balance; College, Family issues, assignments, a relationship and taking care of his basic needs were proving difficult to manage. And it was beginning to take a toll on him. He was almost never able to relax.

But the occasional drink did seem to help, however.

"Hey, so I was thinking-" Delilah says, walking alongside Lip in the direction of his class, Delilah went to the same college as Lip, unfortunately, their classes were at different times, so their schedules rarely lined up, they stayed in different dorm buildings and those dorm buildings were at opposite ends of the large campus.

"-after my class, either I can go to your dorm, you can come to mine or we can go to the library or something and do some studying together. Cause I have an essay to do, and you have that essay due tomorrow which you'll probably want to go over, and we can help each other out," she suggested with a smile.

"Yeah uh, I can't I'm going to that party tonight," Lip says his hands in the pockets of his jacket, looking down at his feet as he walks.

"The frat party? But you hate people like that," Delilah remarked, a puzzled expression on her face.

"Yeah, but, it might be fun. Plus, free booze is a good way to forget about all the jerks," he chuckled.

"But what about the essay?"

"Don't worry about it, Del," Lip replied nonchalantly.

Delilah stops walking, tilting her head as she looks at her boyfriend, analysing him intensely. Lip takes a few moments to realise that she's no longer beside him, he turns to look at her but she speaks before he has a chance to question her.

"Have you even started the essay?!"

"Yeah, yeah of course I have," He excuses, looking back down at his feet. Delilah walks back up to him, standing directly in front of him.

"Look at me," She says, still staring at him intensely, causing Lip to reluctantly raise his head to look at her. "Have you started the essay?" 

Lip had one weakness and that was Deliah. Delilah seemed to be the one person he could not lie to. He didn't want to say it out loud, she already knew the answer, he could tell, so he simply shook his head at her. 

Delilah looked at him with an indescribable look of shock, disappointment and disbelief, "Lip it's due tomorrow! This isn't like homework, this will affect your grade!"

"Yeah I know, but I'll...I'll get it done I swear!" Lip promises.

"So you're not gonna go to the party?"

"Nah I'm still gonna go I promised my roommate but I'll just do it when I get back,"

"Lip...this really isn't a smart idea, please just come study with me," Delilah begged, she already knew his grade was currently at a D, and she was worried that missing this essay would be the beginning of the end. 

"Del...I'll, I'll just go for like an hour, and I won't drink and I will go straight to my dorm and do the essay," He tells her, looking at her genuinely. 

Delilah looked at him with a look he couldn't quite describe, but it was the look she gave him when he initially doubted going to college and the look she gave him when he briefly dropped out of high school. It was the type of look that said 'I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed.'

"Promise?" She asked, holding out her pinky to him, causing Lip to chuckle at the gesture.

"I promise," He locked his finger with hers, and they continued walking toward Lip's class, sharing a small smile, their words no longer necessary.

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No drinks turned into one drink.

One turned into two.

Two into four.

Four into seven, until Lip woke up in his dorm the next day with no memory of how he got there. A quick look at the clock indicated to him that it was two in the afternoon. Not only had he not done the essay, he hadn't even shown up to his lesson. 

Lip just lay in bed staring at the ceiling, wallowing in his own self-pity before there was a knock at the door. Somehow, in his severely hungover state, Lip got himself to the door, opening it to reveal Delilah, whom he let in without question. 

"Hey, Emma mentioned her boyfriend told her you didn't show up today, you ok?" Delilah inquired, her concern evident as she stood in the middle of the dimly lit room.

Lip, battling nausea, managed to mumble, "Yeah, just uh...not feeling great today." 

Delilah, however, was beginning to notice the telltale signs – Lip was wearing the same clothes as the previous day, avoiding the light streaming through the window, and his breath reeked of alcohol. The pieces fell into place. "Are you hungover?"

Lip, still battling the pounding headache and the queasy feeling in his stomach, attempted to conjure up an excuse, but Delilah's perceptive gaze left him feeling exposed. He scratched the back of his head nervously. He shifted uncomfortably under Delilah's gaze, his attempt at avoiding eye contact was now more conspicuous than ever. He cleared his throat and mumbled, "Hungover? Nah, it's not that... I just had a rough night's sleep, you know?"

Delilah's expression remained sceptical. She was no stranger to Lip's occasional indulgence in alcohol, and she was also aware of how alcohol affected his family so she knew all too well what could happen if he overdid it. Her concern deepened as she approached him, placing a hand gently on his arm. 

"Lip, you're wearing the same clothes as yesterday, and you look like you haven't seen daylight in a while. And why does your breath smell like a distillery if it's not a hangover?"

Lip sighed, realizing that he couldn't keep up the charade any longer. He looked down at the floor, feeling ashamed. "Okay, fine," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I had a few drinks last night, and then a few more, and... I messed up, Delilah."

"Lip, you promised me you wouldn't drink, especially not on a school night. I trusted you. And what about that essay you were supposed to finish?"

Lip's guilt was written all over his face as he tried to avoid the confrontation. "Look, Delilah, I know I messed up, but it was just one night, you know? I didn't think I'd end up like this."

"Lip you're not in high school anymore. You can't do this. If you keep making mistakes, if your grades continue to slip, you'll get expelled and then what? Love, you have so much potential, you can do so much with your life, why are you wasting it?"

Lip finally met her gaze, and he could see the disappointment in her eyes. "Delilah, I promise, this was a one-time thing I won't let it become a problem. I messed up, and I'm really sorry. I'll work harder, I'll catch up on the essay, and I won't let this happen again."

Delilah looked at her boyfriend, she didn't know how to feel. She wanted to believe him, and part of her did, but part of her was screaming at her not to believe him, part of her believed Lip was already in too deep, but Lip was as stubborn as they come as if he would ever admit he needed help.

"ok...I'm choosing to trust you,"

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As the days passed, Lip's descent into a pattern reminiscent of his father became increasingly apparent. The vibrancy that once characterized him began to fade, replaced by a weariness that settled in his eyes. His dishevelled appearance mirrored the neglect of his responsibilities, and the promise he made to Delilah seemed to be slipping through his fingers.

His academic life suffered the most. Lip was back to his high school ways, and started missing classes regularly. The threat of expulsion from his professors became a persistent shadow, hovering over his academic career. Lip's disregard for his education mirrored the same lack of concern that had marked his father's life.

Alcohol, once an occasional escape, became a daily crutch. It wasn't just about relaxation anymore; it was a way to numb the growing dissatisfaction and disappointment within him. The scent of alcohol clung to him like a familiar companion, and the lines on his face deepened as the weight of his choices pressed down.

Delilah, consumed by her exams and unaware of Lip's unravelling, found herself distanced from the person she once knew. Their interactions became infrequent, and Lip's excuses for his absence grew thin. She knew something was wrong, but she was busy and was never able to find a time to meet him, and over text, it's hard to tell what state someone's in, so Lip was able to perfectly mask his drinking through the protection of a screen. The promise of love and support now seemed like a distant memory.

The similarities to Lip's father became more pronounced. The cycle of self-destructive behaviour, a pattern Lip had sworn to break, now threatened to consume him. The downward spiral was not just about missed classes and too many drinks; it was a reflection of a deeper struggle within Lip—a battle between the person he aspired to be and the shadow of his father that loomed over him. But every day he still told himself the same thing.

I'm not my fucking dad. 

When the next break in the college term came, he returned home to his siblings, which was both nostalgic and haunting, as he realised how much he loved it yet didn't want to be stuck there. And how did he handle those haunting thoughts? By drinking of course. 

The Gallagher siblings noticed this of course, but they wrote it off as Lip destressing after a long college term, after all, they didn't know this was an everyday occurrence for him. He's lip! He's supposed to get out, he's supposed to be ok! He's fine!

And for the first few days he was, he was able to fall under the radar as his siblings dealt with the usual Gallagher chaos and was currently drinking a beer on the couch as his siblings did their own things around him. Yet he had forgotten something, in a drunken haze a few nights previous, he had invited Delilah over, reality was about to smack him in the face, and he had no idea.

When he answered the door and saw Delilah, he felt his mind running at a million miles an hour. He didn't know why she was there. What she wanted. If she could tell he was drunk. His mind was both blank and full of thoughts at the same time, and the sudden shock of his girlfriend being stood in front of him, made all the guilt he had been drinking away come back.

"Del! Hey...uh what are you...what are you doing here?"

"You invited me? You don't remember?" She chuckles.

"Sorry sorry, things have just been uh, crazy you know how it is here, come on in." He says, stepping to the side to let her in. 

Delilah offered a faint smile as she stepped into the chaotic Gallagher household, where the usual mayhem of the family's daily existence continued unabated. Ian was nowhere to be seen. Frank, was ranting about some new get-rich-quick scheme in the corner to Kevin. Fiona and Veronica were cackling about the events of their last night out. And Debbie and Carl were arguing about something stupid. Lip's siblings had become accustomed to the chaos, and so the presence of his girlfriend had gone unnoticed.

"I tried to call and check it was still okay for me to come over but you didn't pick up, I thought I'd come anyway though...I've missed you"

Lip's heart sank at the sincerity in her voice. He had no idea how to explain the disarray of his life to her, especially now that she was standing right in the middle of it. His attempt to mask the smell of alcohol on his breath with a forced smile was feeble at best.

"Missed you too, babe," he mumbled, his words slightly slurred. "Sorry, it's just a bit chaotic here, you know how it is."

Delilah nodded, seemingly understanding, but there was a flicker of concern in her eyes. She had always been perceptive, and something about how Lip was acting didn't sit right with her. Delilah finally at Lip more closely, her brow furrowing. "You seem...off, Lip. Is everything okay?"

Lip tried to laugh it off, but it came out as a nervous chuckle. "Yeah, just... you know, dealing with the Gallagher circus. It's uh...it's been a long day."

Delilah wasn't convinced, but she let it slide for the moment. However, as she continued to talk to Lip, the pieces of the puzzle were slowly coming together. Lip's slurred words, the distant look in his eyes, and the fact that he was clearly trying to hide something were all red flags. Delilah notices the two empty beer bottles on the coffee table in front of the couch, the one place nowhere else was and the final piece slides into place. "You're drunk again...aren't you?" 

Lip's eyes darted around the room, desperately searching for a convincing response. "Drunk? No way, Del. I mean, yeah, I had a couple earlier, but it's nothing. Just needed to unwind, you know?"

Delilah's concern deepened, and a mixture of disappointment and hurt flashed across her face. "Lip, we talked about this. You promised me you wouldn't let alcohol become a problem again. What's going on?"

Lip could feel the weight of his broken promises pressing down on him, and he struggled to find the right words. "It's not a problem, Del. Just a couple of drinks. I've got everything under control."

"Don't lie to her," Ian's voice suddenly came from the stairs, in a tone so cold so...displeased, it caught the attention of everyone in the room.

"What do you know Ian?" Lip slurred slightly, becoming slightly agitated as all the attention in the room was now on him, there was no hiding from the truth now, and Lip knew it. 

"What do I know? I know that since you've been home you've drank up to 5 beers a day, some days more. I know that it's clearly a problem if you're lying to Delilah about it. I also know that you've missed almost all your classes and you're on the brink of being kicked out of college!" 

Everyone in the room stared at Lip a few people letting out a shocked 'what?!', except for Delilah who just looked hurt, she trusted him...and he broke it.

"How do you fucking know that?" Lip slurred, pissed off that his issues were being exposed. 

"You left your email on your laptop open," 

"You had no fucking right-" 

"Ok! Lip this is not the right time for this, if there's a problem we can talk but right now let's just leave it," Delilah says sweetly, almost as if she was talking to someone younger than her as she places a gentle hand on his shoulder, which Lip only shrugs off.

Lip's anger flared, fueled by the alcohol coursing through his veins. "You had no right to snoop around my stuff, Ian! This is my life, my business, and I don't need you or anyone else judging me!"

Ian's expression remained unyielding, his concern masking any irritation he might have felt. "Lip, this is everyone's business when it's affecting you like this. We're your family, and we care about you. We don't want to see you self-destruct."

Lip's voice grew louder as he tried to defend his actions, his words slurring together. "Self-destruct? I'm fine! I can handle a few drinks, and missing a few classes is not a big deal. College is overrated anyway."

The room seemed to grow tense as Lip's rant continued. Fiona, his older sister, exchanged worried glances with Ian. Delilah, however, remained remarkably composed in the face of his anger. "Lip, I'm not here to judge you. I'm here because I care about you. But you can't deny that something's not right. We can work through this together, but you have to be willing to admit that there's a problem."

Lip's frustration only mounted as he felt cornered. He shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "You're all overreacting. I don't have a problem. I can stop whenever I want. You all don't get it," he ranted, his voice rising. "I can handle my shit. I'm not like Frank. I'm not some fucking alcoholic!"

Delilah could see that Ian was also starting to get heated, and she was worried that he and Lip would begin to get physical and fight one another. She knew Lip's defences were up, she knew he felt judged, intimidated, and guilty, and having everyone there was making things worse for Lip, not better. 

"Ok, maybe this isn't a conversation we should be having with so many people," She chuckled nervously her voice still gentle, She moved closer to Lip, trying to defuse the tension. "Love, let's just go outside, and we can-"

But when Delilah's hand touched Lip's shoulder, he reacted with more force than he intended, shoving her away, unintentionally causing her to hit the wall. The room fell silent, and everyone took a defensive step closer, their faces reflecting shock and anger.

Lip stared at Delilah, his eyes widened with regret, realizing he had acted impulsively. Delilah, after a moment of anger, looked down, composing herself. She glanced up at him, restraining her tears.

"I don't like it when you're drunk Lip. Find me when you're not." Her voice quivered slightly before she swiftly made her way out of the Gallagher house. 

Lip stayed glued to his spot as he stared after his girlfriend, his eyes filled with nothing but regret and tears. He couldn't face his siblings, or Kev or V. He didn't want to see the judgment. He didn't want to see the shock. He didn't want to see the sadness. He didn't want to see the anger.

But most of all he didn't want to see the disappointment. 

It took a few moments, but he turned around to face them, his body trembling slightly, as a few tears escaped his eyes, the Gallaghers distraught at the sight of their broken brother.

"W...why did that happen?"

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(fin)

[tfyoulookingatgiuxs]

End of the Chapter

Eddie Munson x Suicide!Reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: You and Eddie went out on a date. While everything seemed to be going well, the problems that torment you take you in a moment of weakness, having to reveal a frightening truth to Eddie, including feelings of guilt.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Suicidal thoughts, topics about death, topics about suicide, your last name is Williams (I don't know I like this kind of last name), mention of abuse, mention of depression, mention of Y/N, bad language, fluff, hurt/comfort, Y/N being silly.

𝐀/𝐍: First One-Shot on Eddie Munson. I came up with this idea - I admit it - inspired by character ai roleplays... But I don't think this is that important. I accept any advice from you to support me and improve! Hope you like it. Sorry for my english, this is not my native language. (DIVIDER NOT MINE)

You walked into the bar while waiting for your boyfriend right away, while ordering just a glass of water. You and Eddie met at that bar to hang out. By now it had been almost months since you started dating and we can say that you are very close. You looked up as the curly-haired metalhead walked in giving you a smirk.

"Sorry I'm late sweetheart" You smiled at that nickname. "Yes, you are" Eddie sat across from you at that moment as he couldn't take his eyes off you.

"Come on, don't be so mean to me" His way of teasing you liked, but as always you tried not to point it out. "Uhuh, anyway how about we grab something? Or do you want to keep staring at me until you get tired?" You said as he shook his head and nodded. You had well thought of getting a beer for both of you, but in the end only Eddie took it, while you settled for a simple Coca Cola, today you weren't in the right mood to ingest alcohol.

"Hey, hey! What are you going to do?" The metalhead began to say as soon as he saw you open your wallet. You looked at him confused "What do you mean?" Eddie at your question snatches your wallet away putting it so you can't take it.

"What the fuck are you doing?! Give it back to me!" You jumped trying to get to his hand, but there was nothing you could do, you were way too short to reach him. "Ha ha ha, don't think about it at all. Sweetheart, did you really think you wanted to pay?" You didn't answer and you looked at him in surrender. “Just as I thought,” he chuckled as he watched you pout and handed your wallet back. You and Eddie have dated countless times, and when he was always the one paying it made you feel guilty, for you, both parties had to pay or maybe once you or once he, let's say the concept that man always has to you didn't like paying, and Eddie appreciates that even though this time he was serious about spending his money on both of you.

"Don't look at me like that" He said as you left the bar "Like what?" You asked taking a sip of the drink obviously pretending not to know what he was referring to.

"As if you were an offended child" Eddie put his arm around your shoulders and then you brought him closer.

"Fuck you" the boy laughed "You're the usual princess" That nickname made you blush "And you're the usual jerk" you commented and then gave him a light kiss on the cheek while together you head into the Hawkins wood. After you made friends with Eddie, the woods became your secret place to hide away, where problems vanished and no one could disturb you. You've been putting in and putting up with too much at that precise time lately and a quiet walk in the woods with your boyfriend was the best thing you could do right now.

You both talked about many things and Eddie's adrenaline made you smile a lot by infecting you with his energy.

"You're joking I hope," Eddie snapped as he kicked a small rock. "No I swear! My grandmother is obsessed with the fact that I'm possessed by the devil because I don't dress like the others girls" You laughed at his reaction. "Your grandmother is out of her mind."

"Don't even tell me, it's also devastating to think of all her complaints" You replied to your boyfriend as you exchanged a warm smile.

That's right. After your parents died you had to move to Hawkins, to be exact with your paternal grandparents. The three of you lived in front of Dustin's residence, in fact he was your first friend in Hawkins and then you introduced yourself to the others. After starting high school, you had to move due to financial problems and managed to find a place at the Trailer Park. Quiet place but your grandparents were way too old to be parents again and in fact you could hardly hold an argument with them without breaking something and yelling at them while making the whole neighborhood hear you.

Above all, they are very religious and your grandmother always expected you to be like other girls your age.

"Seriously, they call me a Satanist because I play a fantasy game, and your grandmother calls you a slave to the devil because you don't like going to church or because you dress a certain way?" You could see the boy in his face that he was speechless. You watched as you both proceeded to walk and look around. "Unfortunately for you the answer is yes. Apparently we are two Satanists, big boy " at that nickname his cheeks turned pink. You knew very well that this had a certain effect on him and your way of calling him that drove him crazy. "We'll summon the devil together and go to hell" He said it doing his usual nutty theater and you couldn't help but laugh at his scenes.

"My dear Williams, if you don't want to end up in hell you should start becoming a girl who dresses well" He teased you as he approached your face "Fuck it! I really don't think about it" you laughed pushing him away while then you decide to stop.

Eddie sat leaning against the oak tree while you stood before him taking the last of your soda. "Won't you sit down?" The boy asked looking at you. "Nah. I'd rather stand for now," the metalhead chuckled as you looked around.

Hawkins wood for you was perhaps the most beautiful place to go, the peace was infinite and the air that surrounded it was something wonderful. The birds singing as the wind blew the leaves away was truly therapeutic. Nothing for you could break that stillness that surrounded the big trees. The first time you came here you were scared, because you were always afraid of getting lost, but when you went there for the first time with Eddie you felt safer and understood the true beauty of that place.

"Shit!" Suddenly you screamed and Eddie looked at you worried for a moment. "I'm so energetic today, I think I could show my third finger to anyone who passes by." He smiled at you. Eddie knew you by now and he knew that every now and then you had these moments of madness that you had to let vent, so he kept looking at you always finding the beauty in what you said or did, even if you would have been swearing all day long.

"Should I be scared?" His tone was playful and you looked at him and then smiled "No, I was joking. But I'm still so energetic." After a while you tried to vent your energy by hanging around the boy or looking around talking to him. You had to let Eddie know who he was close to, and if he would be ready to face the troubled girl that you were. Your feeling insecure had caused Eddie a bit of a hard time. He always told you he'd be there for you no matter what kind of person you were. He just loved you but that wasn't enough for you. To you he was just unaware, inconsistent with what he was doing. You loved Eddie to death, but you were always afraid that then he would leave as the others had done in the past, so you preferred to show the real you and see if he would stay next to you or if he would run away.

The laughs were a lot and that pastime with Eddie seemed to last forever, which you didn't mind at all. You looked at the trees in front of you with your back to the boy admiring the light fog that had formed, giving the forest a calm that your body had never felt, your laughter ended and your smile was still printed on your face.

"Can you imagine staying here forever?" You said catching your breath from too many laughs. Eddie looked at you with a smile "Yes sweetheart, I can imagine staying here forever with you" those words of his made you very happy but now you were focused on the place where you were, on the calm letting so many things go through your head. "Yes, that's right. No problems, no yelling, no criticism, no disappointments…just peace." Your tone was now relaxed while your face was as well. You could say you were just calm, but unfortunately your darkest thoughts didn't want to give you a break. The boy just nodded and before he said anything you preceded him.

"Can you imagine having the chance to... die here? " Eddie's eyes were confused at your question. Why would you think about such a thing? What does that have to do with the peace of the place?

"No honey, it's too good place to think about ruining it with a horrible death." He said sincerely "Why did you suddenly think about death?" His tone was nonjudgmental, as if you could blindly trust him. "No nothing. It's just...if I had to decide on one place to end my life, it's definitely this, I wouldn't mind dying here, giving me the chance for a happy and peaceful death." You still had your back to Eddie before he he could look at you again and try to figure out what was going through your head.

"Why would you think that? I hope you're not planning to die." You didn't say anything, it took you a while to answer him. "No, why should I?" Surely Eddie thought you were joking... You felt how your thoughts took over and how your energy disappeared in a flash. "Why are you talking about dying here Y/N?" The boy still sat and then finally saw your face when you turned to him.

"I'm talking about dying here, because I think this forest is the perfect place to end one's existence. And then, death isn't necessarily a bad thing," you confessed. For you, the concept of death was very different from how others thought it, it was not only dark but a new glimmer of light for peace and freedom. "How can you say that death isn't a bad thing?" His tone was shocked but his eyes showed concern and care.

You turned towards the forest "Because maybe for you death is just a bad thing, something that shouldn't exist...but actually death is what gives value to life, the end of a chapter is the beginning of a new story" You said those words with a tone of admiration. After all, for you life and death were two opposites that attract each other, life was the beginning and death was the end. But now it was Eddie's turn "Death is a horrible thing, darling. Even if it gives value to life by marking the end of a chapter and the beginning of a new story. You know death takes people away from this earth" You still had your back turned while he spoke. You felt it doesn't happen. Your boyfriend was doing it all wrong, he wasn't realizing the importance of dying and ending the suffering.

"For me, on the other hand, it's a beautiful thing and it deserves to be seen a little more in color instead of black and white, the usual sad colors...It's true, death distances people from the earth, but perhaps it meant that at that moment that person's story was destined to end."

He sighed "I see what you mean. But death in real life and not in literature or a movie is often just awful and unfair. People leave loved ones behind forever and it's not something easy to deal with." You turned to him again to find him still sitting trying to decipher you but your face seemed devoid of any emotion.

"It's true. Death is also unfair because it robs us of the people we love. I've always been told it's because God has a plan for them, but I don't believe it… letting people die for a goddamn plan didn't I think if it happened it happened" Now you looked at the sky and Eddie didn't know where you were getting at but he just knew that he was worried about you.

"Sweetheart, what do you mean?"

You didn't answer that question of his. Exactly...What did you mean? What did you have in mind? What prompted you to let your dark thoughts about death come out?

For a moment you didn't know either...you just had to have a fun and carefree day with your boyfriend, so why do you have this impulse to want to feel weak? Of wanting to leave everything as it is and disappear without being found. Somehow the peaceful and divine sensations of the forest had led to remember the bad events that you still continue to endure today. How even though what you do isn't going well, and how your grandparents just see you as a failure...and let's not talk about the constant arguments. They always ended in yells from you when your grandfather seriously lost his temper and you paid the price. Your scars were many and perhaps not enough. Your continuing to live was real hell for you.

This city, like the life you were living, was just awful and maybe you thought you hadn't found worse torture.

But there was him…Eddie. That one person who somehow brought back your smile and desire to have fun.

"Y/N why don't you answer me?" This time you felt the metalhead get up and set his eyes on your shoulders.

"I was thinking..." you were now lost in your thoughts and your worst fears seemed to want to come out.

"Honey, you're making me worry you know?" He said as his voice made your heart melt. You knew how worried he was about you and deep down it made you feel guilty. You were really scared but this pain was really too strong for you. "Please love, turn around" He told you but you didn't, you knew very well that if you met his eyes you would collapse and you didn't want to.

"Can I ask you a question Eddie?" You took a deep breath when he gave you consent and with all the strength you had you spoke.

"Do you think people who take their own lives are stupid and weak people?" Eddie looked at you again, not able to see your face again and dazed by your question while you had a serious doubt that you wanted to get rid of.

"Of course not. The pain that someone feels that drives them to take their own life is something not many people understand. Sometimes, life can be too hard to bear and some think that death is the way out" He approached you and with his arms wrapped around your waist hugging you from behind. "Whoever makes this decision…must have been through hell that we can't even fathom. But Honey…death isn't the only way out."

Eddie didn't know what you were going through every day and you honestly didn't want to tell him. It wasn't a good topic to talk about and especially with your boyfriend. The urge to cry was about to penetrate your soul creating that annoying knot on your neck.

"You're right... people only know how to judge the dead because according to them every problem they had could be solved just by talking or something else... big bullshit, big and huge bullshit. People don't know and talk as if nothing had happened happened of the deaths of the others" As soon as he released his grip you took a step forward looking at the trees wrapped in the sweet mist. So many times you had to hear comments like that about people who committed suicide, and god you hated those fucking comments so much. Despite everything, people also despised those who killed themselves to ease the pain and to take away their existence on earth, and this for you was just one of the many things you'd always thought if you'd gone away.

"Exactly, love. We can't judge those who take their own lives because we didn't experience what they experienced." Eddie was now resigned that you wouldn't turn away "We shouldn't judge or belittle someone because they can't bear the pain of life. The world is full of people who don't understand and are incapable of showing empathy towards others." Shit if Eddie knew how to use words... That boy was more right than ever, he knew exactly how to make you collapse and you didn't know why you were still standing instead of crying and letting off steam hugging him. "What if that person who kills Themself and makes everyone else suffer?" You trimmed your lower lip.

"What do you mean?" Eddie asked seeing you trembling "Y/N why are you trembling?-".

"Would you forgive that person? Even if they left you alone ending their life?" This time you turned to face him as your voice cracked "Even though his gesture was selfish and insensitive?" Eddie looked at you for a while and then I nodded. "Yes" and in that moment your eyes became watery but still not shedding a tear.

“I would forgive them and not hold them accountable for what happened. Because even if what they did was selfish or insensitive, they had the weight of the world on their shoulders at that moment and must have felt like they had no other way out." He approached you placing his hands on your cheeks and the knot in your neck was getting stronger and stronger. You were so afraid. Because what you planned to do would leave Eddie sad for the rest of his days. Even if you thought that maybe one day he would abandon you, you still thought that he of all the people you knew, would mourn your death and this feeling of guilt you would not be able to carry it even after death. "Even if his death will make you suffer?" You trembled even more as your heart pounded. "Yes. Of course it would hurt me." Eddie's tone was calm but there is some pain. "But I wouldn't blame the victim for what happened. It's unfair to judge someone for a mistake that occurred in a time of so much pain and suffering. But I would forgive them and remember them for better or for worse."

Eddie always knew how to surprise you. You were in awe of how he was kind-hearted enough to forgive even the one person who despite her love for him, was ready to leave him behind. You couldn't seriously do it and the tears came out of your head making your boyfriend worry even more "So would you forgive me even if I left you behind? Even if I decide to put an end to my story?" Your warm tears wet his rings and he kissed your forehead and hugged you.

"What's up with you sweetheart?" His tone was calm and sympathetic as he stroked your hair. You, on the other hand, had become a river of tears that could not be stopped.

"I'm tired Eddie...I don't want to stay here in this world, I don't want to face anything anymore, I'm not capable of it... even if no one will regret me for life at least I will have stopped following a life that doesn't belong to me" you pulled nose up "I'm tired of suffering, I don't deserve to be here." He held you even tighter as you continued to cry into his Hellfire shirt.

Eddie was hurt by your words. The very thought of not seeing you tomorrow hurt and terrified him. He didn't know exactly what you were going through but now he was willing to comfort you.

"It hurts me when you say things like 'maybe it would be beautiful to die here'. Please...you are very young. You have your whole life ahead of you. This life is yours and yours alone to live. And I am telling you that you can face any what, honey." Eddie made your eyes meet and looking at your face in pain hurt him even more.

“You don't understand Eddie…nothing belongs to me. I'm everything others call selfish. and that made others suffer..." You continued to cry and sob.

"Don't say that. You know you deserve all the good I give you, you know that? Now please dry your tears and don't believe these things. Because they are not true. I don't want to stop you from finding peace but I want to make you feel better, and I want you to talk to me, okay?" You didn't know what to say except roll up your big nose and sob more and more at his words.

It's true... sooner or later you would have committed suicide finally leaving the life that didn't belong to you. You haven't changed your mind but seeing Eddie, perhaps your possible savior who prevented you from reaching death, in that state made you regret...

Even though as he said, he would have forgiven you, you still can't deny that he will suffer for you, for teasing him by not talking to him and leaving him, maybe even making him think he's the cause of your own death.

"I know and...I don't want to hurt you but seriously I can't take it anymore. You're the only one who really loves me and I-" you were interrupted by him with a kiss on the lips.

"Sweetheart, take it easy now" Your tone was loving as his curly hair pinched the back of your neck. "Now I want you to calm down and dry these tears, okay?" His ringed hand continued to care for your scalp as you followed orders.

"Good girl" He gave you another kiss on the forehead and then embraced you again.

"I'm sorry..." You said resting your head on his neck. "Shh- don't be sorry, you didn't do anything wrong." He consoled you again and slowly you felt your breathing settle and you cuddled up to Eddie.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Eddie said softly close to your ear.

You shook your head and he smiled continuing to hug you "Whenever you want I'll always be by your side honey, okay? If you don't want to do it for you, then do it for me, okay?" You nodded and then felt his lips press against your cheek. You were very lucky to have found someone like Eddie, very lucky. Don't you think you've found a better person to give all your love to. “I promise Eds” more tears came out. "How about we go get something to eat now? Hm?" Eddie proposed trying to use one of your weaknesses, food. You nodded as you clung to his chest "You want to go to the supermarket to get some chocolate pudding?" At that question asked by your boyfriend you began to find comfort. He couldn't resist you, your face was simply genuine like that of a child, who despite a liberating cry everything was resolved by eating something to make you feel better. He laughed then lifted your chin with two fingers and pressed his lips to your cheeks, tasting the residue of your shed tears. After several kisses he looked at you with his chocolate brown eyes and you couldn't help but smile.

"This. This is what I want to see today, a beautiful smile." You blushed but shook your head "I don't have a beautiful smile-" He stopped you quickly. "I don't want to hear stories honey, you have a gorgeous smile that looks so flattering on you, and fuck I say you look beautiful when you smile, so don't ever stop smiling, okay?"

"Yes Eddie" you nodded as your lips parted.

"Keep doing this even if you think you want to die here tomorrow, okay?" He approached you. You didn't know what to answer to that question of his but he kept talking and now your foreheads were attached.

"Because at least I'll be sure you'll be gone smiling, dying happily. So I'll be happy too." Eddie apparently wanted to see how many tears you'd shed at all his words as you held on to his arms.

"Alright sweetheart?" He asked for confirmation.

You nodded repeatedly. He sighs "I need your words."

"Yes Eddie" Your voice was broken but happy with a lighter heart. Not only was Eddie a good-hearted guy, but he hopes you can live happily ever after. You felt Eddie was about to shed a few tears and you could understand this, he was encouraging his girlfriend to smile and die not thinking about the past that hurt her, but about the present that tried to heal her wounds. Eddie didn't feel able to help you, he thought he wouldn't be able to and that the next day he would never see you again, for him this was his goodbye. But within itself. God would have wanted to tell you that it was worth it and that with him you would have lived the best life you deserved. You knew that he would give you everything and that he would do everything, only and exclusively for you. He would even hurt himself just to make you understand how much you mean to him. But Eddie inside was insecure, and seeing you in those conditions without being able to say and do something like a heroic gesture to make you change your mind hurt him, maybe he didn't even feel worthy of you...

But you understood all this even if he didn't expressly say it. He's not crying and he's just wrapping his arms around you and now you realize that Eddie has never held this much in his life. Inside him you could feel the urge to yell at you that what you were doing was horribly wrong and that he hated living without you. But no. He understood and understood you, so much so that he let you go...

To let your chapter end.

You smiled again and Eddie was happier and happier "I love you Eddie".

He said nothing, squeezing you tightly and thrusting his head into your neck. You stroked his long curls as his warm breath on your skin gave you goosebumps. "I love you too sweetheart, never forget that"

"I'll Never Forget Eds"

[arcsimper5]

The Return Missing Scene - I'm Sorry

A quick angsty drabble concerning Crosshair's reaction to event in The Return.

Spoilers for Bad Batch Season 3, Episode 5 (and prior).

No warnings except huge amounts of angst (and very little comfort).

“Crosshair?”

The sniper let out a deep sigh as he closed his eyes, fighting against the emotions swelling inside him.

Kneeling in front of the crate which now displayed Mayday’s battered helmet, along with those of Hex, Veetch and the other troopers the Commander had served with, he felt Batcher’s wet nose as she nuzzled his hand where it rested on his thigh, nudging him in a comforting manner.

“Omega,” he responded eventually. His voice was wavering, too quiet, tone too tight.

The young girl silently stepped towards him, dropping to her knees next to him, mirroring his position as he looked back up at the helmets, focusing on Mayday’s.

He’d wanted to tell them, he really had. Even seeing the outpost again had the words clawing up his throat, desperate to be heard. He wanted to tell them about Mayday, about how he’d saved his life, about how hard he’d fought, about how the Empire had betrayed them both.

But Hunter already thought he was dangerous. And dangerous was better than weak.

Would he even believe that he, Crosshair, had befriended a reg? That he’d fought for hours in the bitter cold, through snow and hail and biting winds to bring them back, to try and save his life?

Of course he wouldn’t. He still saw him as nothing more than a murderer. A traitor. The reason Tech was dead.

He didn’t say it, but the glare that narrowed his gaze, the way it flicked pointedly to Crosshair whenever their fallen brother was mentioned, was evidence enough.

“Who were they?”

Omega’s soft question broke him out of his downward spiral, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard, fighting the lump forming there.

“The solders who manned this outpost,” he forced out quickly, fighting the tears welling in his eyes with every fibre of his being, “they were killed.”

“Oh.” 

Omega’s response surprised him a little. He’d expected more questions, pointed ones. Ones like ‘did you kill them?’ Instead, she remained silent, turning her gaze to the helmets, taking in the details of them.

Guilt and grief scrabbled inside his chest as he waited for another question, another accusation, anything, getting nothing in return. Instead, Omega simply bowed her head, closing her eyes as she adopted the same pose he had been in when she found him, a simple gesture of respects being paid.

The sight broke Crosshair, a single tear slipping down his cheek as he swallowed again, his hands tightening into fists.

“Mayday,” he croaked, drawing Omega from her reverie, “the one at the front. His name, it was Mayday.”

She simply nodded to indicate she’d heard him, waiting for him to continue.

“We were sent to retrieve supplies,” he murmured, unsure where this urge to tell her was coming from. Unable to stop, he simply let it all flow, the hurt becoming more and more raw as he spoke, “under a Lieutenant called Nolan. The locals attacked, and his other men were killed. We were sent on a suicide mission to get some stolen crates back.”

Memories flitted through his head, as vivid as the day they were made. He could still feel the cold through his armour, hear the ‘click’ of the mine he’d stepped on in the cavernous tunnels below the mountain, smell the old leather of the extra layers Mayday wore.

“We tracked them, got the supplies, but… there was an avalanche. We were caught in it. He… saved my life.”

Admitting it was like dunking his head under ice cold water, more tears following the track made by the first, welling under his chin and splashing onto his gloved hand below. 

He remembered the roar of the wall of snow, the pressure, Mayday’s shouted warning and the shove of his shoulder, moving him out of the path of the mass.

“He wanted me to leave him, but I… couldn’t. We walked for two rotations, through the snow. Finally made it… back here. He was almost dead. Nolan refused to help him. So I shot him.”

It was all he could bear to tell her. Nothing could possibly soothe the memories of having Mayday huddled against him for warmth, of the way Nolan sneered down at him as he was dying, the way he spoke of them like they were nothing more than droids. It made his stomach twist awfully, nausea overwhelming him.

Just when he thought he couldn’t take another moment in that room, surrounded by the memories of the last true friend he ever made, he felt arms wrap around his shoulders, his breath hitching.

“I’m so sorry, Crosshair.”

The dam inside him broke, a choked sob escaping him as Omega pulled him into her lap, cradling his head and stroking his shoulder.

It wasn’t fair. None of it was. 

Mayday’s words rang in his head over and over.

“We were good soldiers. We followed orders, and for what?”

For what, indeed. Crosshair knew, outside this room, there were three of his brothers who didn’t trust him because of what he’d done for the Empire, another lost forever because of his belated realisation that Hunter had been right all along.

“All you’ll ever be to them is just another number.”

Omega held him tighter as he gasped for breath, every regret he’d ever had spilling onto the floor of the cold storage room, beneath the gaze of Mayday’s helmet.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped out, to no-one in particular. He knew Mayday was long gone, there was no way he would hear it, but he felt it in his gut, that he could have done more, than he should have realised sooner, “I’m sorry.”

Omega shushed him and continued to rock him gently, glancing up when she saw a flash of movement by the door. Shaking her head, she returned her attention to Crosshair as Hunter slipped from the doorway, his own expression twisted with regret.

“It’s going to be okay, Crosshair,” she reassured him as Batcher shuffled towards them, wrapping her large, warm body around Crosshair’s trembling form, whimpering in concern, “I promise you. We’ll avenge him. We’ll avenge all of them.”