#I’m so right you don’t need to anything else but know that I’m right

[moonstruckme]

babe you’ve got me obsessed with doctor remus!

can i request a drabble where reader gets into like a car accident and has been taken into a&e with like mid/severe injuries and remus has been assigned to treat her?

if not then that’s fine! love your work bae 🎀

Hi gorgeous! Thank you for requesting (I'm obsessed with him too) :)

cw: hospital

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 716 words

The nurse leaves, and you think you might finally get more than five seconds to yourself but then the curtain pulls back again, a tall doctor taking her place. You’ve been able to feel your heartbeat pulsing through every inch of you since you’d stumbled out of your smoking car, and this new man doesn’t help matters. 

He’s lovely. With a face smattered with warm freckles and silvery scars and a mop of brown hair that looks like it’s never once been brushed, this is the kind of person who would fluster you on a normal day. Now, you don’t even know the word to describe the effect he has on you. 

He has to ask his question a second time before you hear it. 

“Have you had allergic reactions to any medications?” 

You blink. It still feels like reality is moving at twice its usual speed. You don’t know if it’s just you shaking, but it feels like the whole room. “Uh, no. Sorry.” 

“That’s alright.” The doctor’s voice is businesslike but kind, with a Welsh lilt. He flips a page on his clipboard. “Anything we weren’t able to address in the ambulance? Any new aches and pains?” 

“I—I don’t think so.” 

He lowers the clipboard slightly, looking at you. His eyes are a lightish brown color, like honey left too long in the sun. “Has anyone talked you through grounding exercises?” 

You feel your brow wrinkle. “What?” 

He almost smiles. “I’ll take that for a no.” He sets down his clipboard on the edge of your bed, pulling up a rolling chair and sitting down in front of you. “I’m going to have you breathe with me for a minute, alright, sweetheart?” 

It’s not in your nature to contradict professionals, but you feel your head shaking as if from somewhere outside of yourself. “Why?” you ask. “Aren’t there more important things?” 

“There are still things left to do,” he allows, seeming unaffected by your questioning, “but you’re stable. It’s nothing that can’t wait for a few minutes, and it’s important that you’re calm so you can think properly.” He takes your hands in his, ignoring the odd padding of the splint around your broken wrist and holding your fingertips instead. “All I need from you is for you to copy my breathing. Can you do that for me?” 

You nod. As he starts to talk you through it, your eyes begin to sting, an effect of his gentle tone or the respite your body has been craving or both. Your doctor’s expression doesn’t change when he sees the silver lining your eyes, but he gives your fingertips a light squeeze. 

“Okay, in for eight this time,” he says in that lulling voice. “Good job, just keep at it.” 

You manage to breathe in for long enough to satisfy him, and after the exhale he drops your hands. 

“Well done,” he murmurs, mindful of the small cuts on your face as he thumbs away your tears. “Are you feeling a bit better?” 

“Yeah,” you answer honestly. The word comes out like a sigh, and his lip curves softly at the plain relief in the sound. 

“Happy to hear it. You were right earlier, there’s still plenty left to do,” he says, expression sombering somewhat as he looks at you intently, “but if you ever need a break, you tell me or someone else, okay? I don’t want you suffering in silence.” 

“Okay.” You wet your lips, feeling much more solid than you had a few minutes before. The world has slowed to its regular speed. “Sorry, I don’t think I got your name.” 

He smiles, which is altogether too charming for a place like this. It makes the long scar going across his cheek crinkle slightly and you could swear his eyes lighten a shade. “Well, see, that’s how I know you weren’t really with me when you came in, because we’ve already been introduced.” His expression lets you know he hasn’t taken any offense, but your face still heats at your impoliteness. “It’s Doctor Lupin, but you can call me Remus.” 

Something in you rings at this new knowledge, like a tuning fork has been struck. Remus, your consciousness echoes quietly. 

His smile softens. “We’ll probably be seeing a lot of each other today.”

[anqelically]

A LOVE WENT UNSAID

WARNINGS. gn!reader, 0.4k words, light angst

NAVI | JJK MASTERLIST

“you’re injured again… what’d you do this time?”

a sigh escaped your lips as you took his pale, injured hand into your own. his knuckles were shining red, fresh wounds inflicted from his usual round of beatdowns. though, it normally wasn’t this bad, especially since the school year only began recently.

when you brushed your finger very lightly over the cuts, he let out a harsh snicker. he withdrew his hand immediately and hid it in his pocket. right, as if that was going to make it any better.

“megumi,” you frowned, “why? why do you always do this?”

the said boy stared at you, “if you don’t like it, then go away. what’s holding you back anyway, huh?”

you knew he didn’t mean harm, yet his words caused an ache in your heart. he was just defending himself, you thought. if there was anything you knew well, it’d be megumi fushiguro.

he acted alone, always seeming cold and distant, but you knew better than that. despite appearances, megumi was nicer than he let on. he showed it rarely and in very subtle ways, but there was still a silent kindness in his heart.

when you needed him, megumi was there. with his ears peeled and mouth shut, he’d listen to you talk for hours. and just like how talking to him eased your mind, listening to your voice eased his heart.

oh, he tried to push you away at first, definitely. yet, again and again, you’d come back like a boomerang. megumi couldn’t shake you away. your persistence to stick around someone like him had the boy surprised.

megumi was rough around the edges, typically following his own rules. and for someone who was like that, your heart would soften at the thought of him.

“what’s holding you back anyway, huh?”

“what’s so wrong about caring?” you shot back at him. “i care about you, okay? that should be enough. you should be thankful that there’s someone who looks out for you, you know. tsumiki really cares for you, yet you act like a little brat. you better get your act together, fushiguro, before it bites you in the ass.”

with nothing else to say, you turned your back to megumi and walked away. with furrowed brows and a heavy feeling in his stomach, he watched as you walked away. you’d come back tomorrow as if nothing had happened. that’s what always happened.

however, you didn’t show up the next day, laying in your bed with a cursed mark engraved on your forehead.

NOTE. this was an old piece i started writing after ch212 and i don’t really feel like continuing so i’m dropping it off here before i sleep 🏃🏻‍♀️

—reblog to support an author + join my taglist !

@lovedazai @enoojnij @spenzitz @chuuyrr @ma3mae @piichuu @dreamlessimp @osameowdazai @janbannan @little-miss-chaoss

[im-sleepdeprived]

do u think u can do a Peter Parker x reader where reader is gone for a while and has her phone off, and Peter gets super scared only to find out she’s alright?? I love ur work u’re the best xx

'No location found'

pairing: peter parker x reader

a/n: thank you for the request !!!! i had this written, then I decided to rewrite it lmao. I pictured college pete but Im not sure if I specified, also not sure if anyone saw my post abt writing a fic inspired by ‘peter’ by taylor swift but i think im going to start working on that and that its gonna be a mini series👀.... so stay tuned and request something in the meantime !!

warnings: none

masterlist, requests are open !!

“That’s not what I said!”

“Oh? Well, that’s what I heard.”

You two had been going at it for a while now. Peter had missed yet another date you’d both planned. It’d been a while since you both spent time together, and you thought he was finally going to change that. Until he just stood you up again. 

You’d thought after moving in together, you’d see him all the time. The opposite was true. He was always out, either on patrol, at Stark Tower, or wherever else his Superhero duties took him.  The problem was, that place never seemed to be with you.

“Y/N please-”

“No, Peter! I’m sick of it! I try to be understanding, I really do, I try to give you grace, but every time I do it’s like you just make it worse.” You sighed and ran a hand through your hair, “Honestly at this point, it feels like you don’t even care anymore.”

His face fell. “Come on baby. You can't seriously think that! It was just a mistake, I won't do it again.”

You nodded, “Right. Think I’ve heard that one before.” You turned around and walked towards your shared bedroom.

“Woah, hey. Wait a minute, where’re you going?” His voice was hurt, and you almost felt bad for turning your back.

Shaking your head and looked down at your dress. You’d gotten all dressed up, expecting a nice dinner followed by a walk in the park. You said, “I’m tired, I’m gonna change and get ready for bed. Sorry, but hey, at least now your schedule is freed up,” you gave him a weak smile, “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Y/N you know it’s not like that. Look you’re all dressed up,” he reached for your arm, “we can still go out. Please, let me make it up to you”

Looking into his eyes, it took everything in you to pull away. 

“Peter,” you whispered, voice so quiet, yet so full of emotion. 

“I don’t want us to fight,” he begged. 

'We’re not fighting, not anymore. I just want to be alone.”

“Okay.” He nodded, but still kept his hand on you, reluctant to let go. “I’ll sleep on the couch?”

You nodded, not trusting your voice right now.

He deflated. He wasn’t exactly expecting you to object, but still. It hurt that you wanted to be away from him so bad. 

“Good night,” he muttered, watching you walk towards the door with sullen eyes. “I’m right here if you need anything.”

You gave him the tiniest tip of your head, not even bothering to turn around, “Night.”

There was no way he was getting any sleep tonight.

You slept in that day. It was Saturday and you didn’t feel like doing anything. Even after you woke up, you stayed in bed scrolling on your phone, heart pounding a little harder when you saw messages from Peter pop up, before effectively sliding them away.

After a few hours of doomscrolling, you stepped out of the room. You could see a throw blanket neatly folded on the couch, you have no idea if he’d even used a pillow. Your heart thrummed with guilt and you decided that tonight he was definitely sleeping on the bed. Or at the very least, you’d sleep on the couch. 

Walking into the kitchen, you noticed a tray with a note sitting atop a covered plate. When you got closer, you saw that the note held a cheesy breakfast pun. So Peter.

I love you a waffle lot! With a bunch of hearts around it. You couldn’t help it, you cracked a smile. He was such a dork. And you loved it. 

You heated up your breakfast and had gotten well into eating when your phone started ringing. Was it Peter? You didn’t really want to speak to him, not yet at least. You’d kind of hoped you wouldn’t have to until tonight-

You picked up your phone and almost let out a sigh of relief when you realized it was just one of your friends, Maddie. Then you felt bad for feeling relieved. 

You answered the phone. “Hey Mads, how's it going.” 

“Hi Y/N! Good! I was just calling to see if you wanted to go out tonight? Listen, before you say no-”

“No that sounds great actually,” you cut her off quickly, eager for an excuse to get out of the house. You’d been canceling plans for way too long in hopes of spending even a moment with Peter, and it seemed as if even your friends had noticed. But no more.

“Really? Great! So there's this raging new club,” she went on, giving you all the details of who was going and who might be there and you listened but barely felt a hint of excitement. You weren’t sure if it was because it was a frat party, and those things rarely appealed to you, or if it was lingering feelings from your argument with Peter. Which reminded you why you’d wanted to go out in the first place. 

“We’re gonna pregame at my place though, so stop by here and I’ll take you!” She finished, making you smile. Maddie was always sweet, a little more wild than you, but that’s what made you like her. 

“Sure Maddie, thanks for the invite.”

“Of course, can’t wait to see you, I feel like it's been forever since we went out together.”

You let out a small laugh, “I know what you mean. But we’re gonna change that tonight. 

You said your goodbyes and hung up. You needed to start getting ready soon, despite you just eating breakfast, you’d stayed in all morning and it was pretty late already. 

You got ready quietly, only a playlist you’d turned on droning in the background as you did your hair and makeup. You walked over to the closet to pick out an outfit and felt a little sad. Usually, Peter was here during this part, helping you pick out something, annoying you when he said you looked beautiful in everything. 

“Peter! I need real criticism!”

“Well, I can’t help it if my girl looks stunning in everything!”

You picked out a nice outfit you deemed fit for clubbing before grabbing a pair of heels and stepping out of your room. Looking around at the empty apartment you realized you should probably let Peter know you weren’t going to be home tonight. You didn’t feel like calling him though, and if you didn’t want to open his messages from earlier either so you decided to take a page out of his book. 

Grabbing a sticky note, you wrote down the briefest of explanations, before sticking it on your fridge and leaving. 

He had sent texts saying Good morning!, Do you need anything?, and another explaining he’d be out for a while but he’d made you breakfast, all in hopes of you responding to him. You didn’t, but that wasn’t too shocking to him. It didn’t make it hurt any less though. 

He knew he fucked up. He knew he’d disappointed you again, let you down again. He knew he deserved this and more. He should be grateful you weren’t giving him the more. And he was! But he couldn’t help the small selfish part of him that just wished you would let him take you out tonight, or give him something else he could do to make up for it because there was nothing he hated more in the world than when you were mad at him. And he did not want to sleep on the couch again. Sure it was uncomfortable but that was the least of his worries. He hated not sleeping next to you.

That had been his favorite part about the two of you moving into your own place, that he got to hold you every night. After a rough night of patrolling, or working too long on his studies, or a new gadget, he got to go home and hold you, get lost in your touch, and that always made everything better. And it killed him to know you were just down the hall, and he wasn’t with you. 

He tried his best to rush everything, trying to get all his work done for the day so he could spend the whole night with you. He was planning a movie night, bingeing all your favorites. He was gonna give you a proper date, soon, but right now, all that mattered was you two spending time together. 

On his way home, he stopped at a corner store to grab snacks for the two of you, making sure to get all your favorite ones. He even stopped at a flower shop not far from your apartment to grab you a bouquet and his heart fell when he realized how long it’d been since he’d done this. He definitely deserved the more. 

He knocked on the door of your apartment a few times and his heart fell as he realized you were either dead set on ignoring him, or you weren’t home. When he pulled out his keys and let himself in, he realized it was the latter. 

Sighing, he set down the bags of snacks and placed the bouquet down as he ran a hand through his hair as he walked around. He entered the kitchen and felt a little better when he saw the dishes he’d used to plate your breakfast were washed and on the drying rack, meaning you’d eaten. 

He was about to pull out his phone to see if he’d missed a text from you when he saw something on the fridge. 

“Went out. Be home late.”

His brows furrowed as he read. He didn’t know you had plans. Hell, he didn’t even know if you had plans now, your note barely explained anything.

All he could do was wait until you came home to sort everything out.

Peter could handle the silent treatment (barely), but what he couldn't handle, was not knowing if you were safe or not. No. That wouldn’t fly. 

He’d sent you a text when he got home, letting you know he got your note and to have fun and be safe. 

An hour later, he sent another text. Just as a little check-in. Still no response. 

It had been about three hours since he’d gotten back when he noticed that his messages had lost the little mark that indicated they were delivered. Weird. 

He tried to call you, he’d refrained from doing so before because he thought he should let you have your space (which was why, he assumed, you’d left in the first place) but it didn’t even ring, he just got sent straight to voicemail. 

What made him really start to panic, however, was when he went to check your location, which he felt so stupid for not doing before, and it wouldn’t load. It kept saying ‘no location found’ making his heart beat harder.

This was worse. You were ignoring him, his messages and calls weren’t going through. Something was wrong, was your phone off? Were you mugged? Or even worse-

He stopped himself before he could spiral too hard. That wouldn’t help, right now, he needed to figure out where you were and if you were okay.  He knew you weren’t the kind of person who would go out to bars or parties alone. Maybe you went out with a friend? Or maybe you were at a friend's? It was a place to start. 

He started calling your friends, people he knew you might go out with, and on the fifth call he finally got answers. Or…something like that. 

“Hello?” Maddie yelled into the phone, making Peter pull his phone away. 

“Hey Maddie, it’s Peter.”

“Oh yeah, Y/N’s dude,” she slurred. 

“Yeah, yeah, Y/N’s dude. Hey listen, is she with you? She went out tonight but she forgot to tell me where, and now my messages aren’t sending.” His pulse was racing. It sounded like Maddie was out, if the blaring music in the background was anything to go off of, and he was desperate to know you were okay. 

“Sorry Patrick, what’d you say,” she asked making Peter’s brows furrow. They weren’t exactly friends, but he’d met Maddie a few times. Enough times for her to know his name was not Patrick.

He shook his head, that didn’t matter right now. “Y/N. Is she with you, do you go out together?”

“Oh!” She exclaimed as if she’d just remembered something. “Yeah, she is!”

Peter let out a sigh of relief. 

“Or, she was.” He held his breath again. 

“What do you mean ‘she was’? Where is she?”

“I dunno, she left I think.” Maddie let out a little hum as if to say ‘too bad!’ and Peter was sure she must be extremely intoxicated, otherwise there was no way she could be so casual about something like this. He could barely keep himself together.

He ran a hand over his face as he tried not to raise his voice. This was getting frustrating. “She left? Where’d she go? Where are you right now?”

“I don’t know…she was bored I think. She was off today. S’shame, she looked so hot.”

His heart clenched when he realized the reason you were off, was because of him. You didn’t have fun, so you left, now he had no idea where you were and it was all his fault. 

“Where are you, Maddie?” He repeated. 

“That new club on 27th! Get down here Paul, it's so much fun!” She gushed and Peter rolled his eyes. He didn’t have time for this. 

He hung up quickly, not bothering to say goodbye before he got up to put his suit on. He couldn't stand the thought of something happening to you because you were upset and distracted because of him. That you weren't even speaking to him.

There was no way he was going to let anything happen to you. 

You were walking outside, up and down the sidewalk. You knew it wasn’t the safest decision but you didn’t really care. The club was stuffy, humid, and way too loud. You just needed to breathe, and then you’d go back. Maybe. 

You considered hailing a cab and going back home right now. You’d send Maddie a text, but she probably hadn’t noticed you’d left in the first. She’d been having a blast, unlike you, drinking shots and dancing with every guy she felt like. You weren’t sure she remembered you stopping her to tell her you’d be gone for a bit. 

On second thought, you were kind of hungry. You hadn’t eaten anything other than Peter’s waffles for you that morning and there was an amazing smell floating from a food cart at the end of the block. You could help yourself to something before going home. 

Before you could reach the food cart, you were flying. Or rather, swinging. You knew who it was right away. 

Just as fast as he’d snatched you up, Peter put you down on an isolated rooftop, leaving just you and him high above everyone else.

You were about to reprimand him, about to demand an answer as to why he’d just done that, but there wasn’t a chance before he was pulling you into a bone-crushing hug.

“Pete?” Your voice was soft, you sensed there was something wrong and suddenly any anger or annoyance you held, from now or the night before, disappeared.

“You’re okay,” he mumbled as if that was his way of an answer. 

Your brows furrowed. “Well…yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

He pulled away then, taking off his mask, and you saw just how terrified he looked, scaring you as well. There might’ve even been a little red rimming his eyes, making you wonder if he was holding back tears. “I came home and I brought snacks and flowers and I thought we could spend the rest of the night together but saw your note. So I texted you and I get that you’re mad at me-”

“I’m not,” you said, and you meant it. You weren’t mad at him, especially right now, seeing him all shaken up like this. “But what's wrong?”

“My texts weren’t delivering, my calls went straight to voicemail, and I couldn’t track your location. Y/N, I got so scared something happened and you weren’t talking to me.” He sniffled and your heart broke a little. 

You reached into your bag and pulled out your phone, but when you tried to turn it on—dead. 

“God sweetheart, never do that to me again. Please.” He looked at you desperately, “Yell at me. Fight with me. But please never ignore me anymore, I can’t stand it.”

“I’m so sorry Petey, I had no idea my phone died. I would’ve said something I swear. I never want you to worry like that.” Your hands went up to hold his face. 

He brought a hand to hold your wrist. Gently running his thumb up and down your hand he said, “I always worry about you sweetheart, it’s my job.”

You shook your head, “You worry about all of New York, I don’t need to add on to that.”

“No,” he said quickly, looking offended you’d even say that, “No. Never think like that. You are the most important thing in my life, okay? You’re my first priority and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, that I don’t show that or say it enough.

“But I’m going to do better, I promise. I’m going to make it up to you because I can’t lose you, I need you Y/N.”

You didn’t reply, instead just smashed your lips onto his. His hands slid down to your waist, holding you tight. It was a kiss of forgiveness, of second chances, and new beginnings.

He pulled away first, but not before pressing multiple kisses all around your face. “Heels off baby,” he said as he knelt down and started working on your heel straps, lifting each foot onto his thigh before undoing each one. You didn’t even realize how much they’d been hurting until they were off. “I’m swinging you.” He picked you up swiftly, one arm wrapping itself around your ribs.

You groaned, wrapping your arms around his neck, “Peteyyyy. You know the wind tangles my hair too much.”

“Don’t worry,” he said, leaning over to kiss you on the top of your head, “I’ll be careful, c’mon.”

You move your head to peck his cheek and then hug him tight, “I love you.”

He grinned, pulling you in closer. “I love you more sweetheart.” He leaned back and pressed a quick kiss to your lips. “Hold on tight, Spider Monkey.”

You burst into laughter, “You did not just say that!” 

“Oh I totally did,” he gave you the goofiest smile, making you laugh again. 

“Ok, just…don’t let me go,” you said as you wrapped your arms tighter around him. 

“Never,” he replied, and something in his voice told you he wasn’t just talking about swinging. 

[rainylana]

“It’s just a cut.” Part three!

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

warnings: physical abuse, mentions of injuries and wounds, emotional turmoil, angst and lots of tears, readers mother is in jail, language, hospitals, reader and eddie are at heavy odds, mentions of betrayal and broken trust. let me know if i missed anything! original request by @h-ness1944

note: i hope everyone is doing okay! enjoy this new instillation of the series, and let me know what you thought about it! this particular series seems to take a toll, so please share your thoughts! it means the world to me!!:) as of right now, this is the final chapter. the ending isn’t necessarily a cliffhanger, but it’s not exactly a solid ending, either! hope you enjoy!

You had shut the world out and everyone in it, refusing to speak or comply with anyone. You were throwing a tantrum, you knew that, but you were too heartbroken to care. Eddie had betrayed you, the one person you loved most in the world had done what you had asked not to do. You wouldn’t talk to the cops. You begged Eddie not to, begged him to keep his silence, but it was clear his feelings hadn’t changed. He couldn’t do it. 

He told the cops everything. From every bruise and wound he had tended, to the aches and cracks in your heart from harsh words. Of course, the police wanted to hear it from you, but from the extent of your injuries, they knew Eddie wouldn’t have been making it up.

The tried to talk to you multiple times, so did the nurses and your surgeon. Wayne tried, Eddie begged. The kids came in, so did Robin and Steve, but it was to no avail. It felt as if the whole world knew your secret. You felt nothing but shame and embarrassment, and the worst of all, betrayed and alone.

Your dad had been notified and was on the way, but the last thing you wanted was for family drama. You wanted to rot in that bed, and if you had it your way, you surely would. It had been almost two days since you last spoke to anyone. They’d given up, but not Eddie. He was determined to make you understand. He couldn’t loose you. A life without you in was one he didn’t want to have to live.

And as far as your mom went, you felt cold and empty. You didn’t know why. You didn’t care about your injuries, you’d been hurt before. You didn’t care about the mean things she had said before she pushed you down the stairs. You simply just didn’t care anymore. You didn’t want to see her, but you wished everything could go back to the way it was, as sick as it seemed. You were too hurt, too betrayed to feel anything else. All you felt was grief, and a horrible ache in your stomach.

You were to be on bedrest for the next three weeks so your wounds could heal properly, and you couldn’t wait to get the bandage off your nose so you could breath again. You looked terrible. As the days sat in your bruises began to change shape and color, your face decorated with marks of angry purple and red shades.

The only thing that could be heard in the room was the ticking of the clock, which happened to be running five minutes slow. You could barely move, only laying flat on your back with your head turned toward the window. There were so many damn flowers everyone you felt as if you were living in a greenhouse. 

Eddie had resorted to sitting outside your room. You’d made it very clear you didn’t want to see him, but he refused to leave you completely. He’d come in every now and then, asking if you needed anything, tearing up with another I’m sorry. He never got a response.

If he loved you like he said he would, he wouldn’t have betrayed you. He wouldn’t have broken your trust like he did. He wouldn’t have turned your entire world upside down and ripped out your heart. You wondered if you’d ever be able to look at him the same again.

•

“Ed, don’t you think you should go home and rest?” Wayne stood behind Eddie, watching him as he stared at stuffed animals in the gift shop of the hospital.

“I’m fine.” His voice was gruff and cold, almost matching yours the last time you spoke to him.

He was indeed, not fine, not in the slightest. He was completely pale and malnourished, hadn’t eaten in days or taken a shower. He hadn’t slept in almost five days, not properly, anyways. The heart in his chest that kept him alive was breaking second by second, and he wondered if it would completely shatter inside of him.

“Don’t start that with me.” Wayne comes up to the side of his nephew, glancing down at the teddy bear in his hands. “You’re not fine. You need sleep. I’ll stay with y/n. You go home and rest.”

“Wayne.” Eddie stressed, placing down the teddy bear, twirling around toward the exit of the shop. “Stop. Leave me alone.” He walked as quickly as he could out of the store, ignoring the have a good day from the check out lady. He walked with angry, heavy steps, so quickly that his hair bounced with each step of his boots. He could hear his uncle trailing behind him.

“I can’t leave her, Wayne.” He stopped in front of the elevator, pushing the button with a ringed finger. “If you want to go home go ahead, but I’m staying put.” The elevator opened and he was walking inside, leaning against the metal wall with crossed arms. “Are you coming or not?”

Of course, Wayne followed, not ready to give up on his son.

“You’re just as stubborn as she is, you know?” The old man said gruffly, the hot temperature of the elevator making him sweat. “You’re no good to her like that. You’re dead on your feet, boy.”

Eddie stared at the floor and ignored every word, at least tried to, and thought about you staring at the wall, the same spot that you had for the last two days. Would you ever speak to him again? Was any of this worth it? Would the two of you ever be the same? He knew the answer already, whether the two of you were together or not, nothing would be the same in your relationship. That was inevitable.

•

Your nose killed you, your face aching with the weight of your tears that had your bones throbbing with pain. Your shoulders shook with the weight of your sobs, your mouth clamped shut as to not alert anyone that you were awake. It was almost four in the morning and you’d awaken up from another bad dream. You couldn’t sleep no matter how hard you tried.

You were just so sad. You missed your mom, you’d come to that conclusion. You missed her and wanted to be home. You wanted to see your dad. You wanted to be in your own bed. But most of all, you wanted Eddie to hold you in his arms, wanted him to tell you that everything would be okay and that he loved you. You craved him more than anything.

But where did you both stand? The last thing you told him was that you’d never speak to him again, you’d threatened to break up with him. Yet he had stayed. He hadn’t left at all. Or had he? You hadn’t seen him almost all day. The thought made you sob, hoping to god that he was still outside your room.

You looked to the door, flexing your leg. You were barely able to stand with help from the nurses, you surely wouldn’t make it out there on your own. You whimpered and fell back into the bed, covering your face with your good arm, the other now in a cast, and cried brokenly.

“Y/n?”

You jumped and uncovered your face, eyes widening at the familiar face. “Wayne.” You cried, holding out your arm. You broke down into heavy tears at the sight of him as he shut the door, quickly hurrying over to you.

“Hey, hey, shh.” He sat on the bed and scooted to sit beside you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, pulling you carefully into his side. “I got ya, kid. You’re okay.”

You bawled into his shirt, the comforting smell of cheap cologne and cigarette smoke brining a sense of calm over you. Your body shook in his arms, and you cried for everything in that moment, like you were mourning for the entire world.

“It’s okay, darlin. You’re okay.” His face watched etched with concern, have debating whether or not he should go get Eddie from the chapel, but he knew he’d be sound asleep. He shouldn’t leave you, he decided, holding you closer and letting you cry out everything you needed to.

“I don’t know-” Your breath hitched, fingers fisting at his shirt. “what to do.”

The weight of your sobs made it difficult to understand you completely. He kissed the top of your head, shushing you gently.

“I’m so..s-scared.” You whimpered, face burning with a broken ache. You were becoming inconsolable, hysterical with your broken heart, you didn’t even hear the door open up.

“Wayne?” Eddie’s eyes were wide at the sight of your distress, freezing him in his spot. Wayne looked from you to Eddie, knowing that it was his nephew that you really needed. He nodded him over, gently trading him spots as Eddie quickly and carefully swapped spots to hold you close.

“Shh, shh, baby, baby.” He coos, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you to his chest. You’re not cold or distant, you relish the scent of him, bawling into his chest like a lost little girl. “I’m here. I’m here.”

He was so relieved to hold you, so happy that you were allowing him to comfort you. You’d probably hate him again in the morning, refuse to speak to him probably, but this, this was a step forward. He heard the click of the door shut and he was left alone with you, kissing the shell of your ear. “I’m here, baby.”

•

You were left with hiccups and an awkward silence that neither of you knew how to fill. He continued to hold you, almost two hours later. The sun was beginning to rise and you knew the nurses would be making their rounds to your room soon. You weren’t as relaxed into him as you were, now tense and unsure where to keep your arm.

He felt the same way. He rubbed his hand up your arm, trying to keep connected with you, but the awkwardness in the room continued to grow heavy, your tears having long since stopped. He didn’t know what to say and neither did you.

You couldn’t help but groan, your head killed you from your breakdown.

“What’s wrong?” He looked down at your face. “Did I hurt you?”

“No.” You said hoarsely, bringing your shaky hand up to your nose. “Just my nose. My head is killing me.”

He sat up, examining the darker shades of your face. “Do you want me to get a nurse?”

You shook your head quickly. “No, I’m okay.” You we’re tired of them pestering you every five minutes with medicine in little plastic cups, trying to get you to use your legs, despite the fact the doctor wanted you on bedrest.

You held your face and he watched you, swallowing dryly as he tried to find words. There was so many things he wanted to say, but would you listen? He got up and walked to the window, peeking out the blinds at the sun that was beginning to rise. He stretched awkwardly, a crick in his neck that made his own head hurt, too.

You looked at his back, trying your hardest not to cry. You had the urge to apologize, but did you have anything to apologize for? Was this your fault? Eddie was clearly suffering, but so were you.

“I’m sorry.” You blurted out. Sorry for what exactly, you didn’t know. You couldn’t forgive him, could you? Could you forgive him for the way everyone was looking at you now? Could you forgive the fact that your mom was in jail?

He twirled around, eyes narrowing in confusion at your words. “For what?”

You gulped, not able to meet his eyes. “I don’t know.” I’m sorry you’re in pain. You could be sorry for that. You still loved him, after all, despite everything that happened.

“Do you hate me?” He asked, looking toward your bed. “For telling?”

It felt so back and forth. You were so sure of your feelings one minute, then completely changed the next. “I don’t hate you.” You answer honestly, voice dry and cracked. “But It’s hard to look at you.”

He nodded once briefly. He understood the feeling. It was your turn then, to look at him, finally taking in just how rough he looked. His hair was matted and greasy, desperate to be washed. He was exhausted completely. “Have you went home at all?” You ask, halfway sat up in your bed, good hand at your stitched side.

He gulped, shaking his head.

You frowned. “Eddie,” You began. “You should go home. I’m okay.”

He finally turned away from the window, standing their awkwardly in the middle of the floor. “Do you want me to go?”

No. No, you didn’t. But it wasn’t fair to make him stay just for your sake. He looked like he was going to pass out any second. He needed food and rest. “I want you to take care of yourself.” You answer. “You don’t have to stay here on my account.”

He gave you a look then. I want you to take care of yourself. He wanted the same for you, yet he was the bad guy. He furrowed his brows, licking his fry lips. “Okay.”

He made it halfway across the room before you stopped him again. “I’m sorry, Eddie.” You say, closing your eyes.

He sighs that time, becoming irritated himself. “Why, y/n? Why are you sorry? There’s nothing for you to be sorry for.”

You shake your head, nose throbbing. “I don’t- I don’t know. I just feel like I should say it, so I am.”

His hand was on the doorknob, and he rested his forehead against the door. “You don’t know what this has been like for me. I had to tell them, y/n. I understand you’re mad, but you don’t need to apologize. You have no reason to.”

Your eyes start to tear up, and you can feel the damp feeling of your bandage against your nose. “You didn’t have to.” You look to the wall again. Your safe spot. “But I know you felt like you did.”

He scoffed without humor, looking back at you like you were crazy. His eyes were matching yours with tears. “I didn’t have to? Is that some sort of joke? Do you not realize the situation you’re in? You could have died, y/n. You almost died.”

You cringed at his words and clamped a hand over your mouth. “But mom is in jail now. She’s going to go to prison.”

“Good riddance!” He couldn’t help but raise his voice, an angry tear spilling over his face. “Fuck her! I hope she rots in there! I don’t care how upset that makes you, y/n, it’s true. She’s a shit mom and deserves what she got!”

You sobbed with each word that spat, glaring at him over your fingers with a look that could kill. “That’s not true! She’s my mom, Eddie! I’m okay!”

“No, you’re not!” He marched over and pointed his finger at you. “You flew through a fuckin’ window and tore your stomach to shreds!” He took a deep breath, that soon had him releasing a sob. “Do you know how scared I was waiting for you to come out of surgery? The doctors didn’t know if you’d pull through, y/n. Do you have any idea how fucking messed up in the head I am now?” He was weeping freely, pacing across the room.

“Don’t you dare say you’re okay.” He said sternly. “Do you really care that little for yourself? Do you hate yourself so much that you don’t care for your own safety? Do you want to die that badly? Well, I won’t watch it. I won’t sit here and watch you wilt away. I can’t, baby.”

You were blubbering and carrying on, saying things that couldn’t understand. “I’m sorry.” He managed to hear through your broken sobs. “I’m so sorry, Eddie!”

You looked up at him with a bloodied nose, hot tears and snot pooling at your cupid’s bow. “I’m sorry that I’ve hurt you so bad, Eddie. Please, please don’t leave me!”

“Y/n,” He crumbled, going to you. “Stop apologizing, you silly girl.” No matter the fight, he would always go to you. “Aren’t you listening to me? You haven’t done anything. It’s your mother. She’s the one who’s hurt you, hurt us.”

He held your face and wiped the blood from your nose. “Please, forgive me, baby. I’m sorry. I promise, I won’t ever let you get hurt again. I’ll protect you if you let me, please let me.”

He’s kissing your hands, moving up your good arm and to your cheek. “God, I missed you, baby.”

“I love you.” You cried, gripping at his shoulder. “I’ll forgive you if you forgive me.”

I love you. He sobbed at the words. You still loved him. He said it back lovingly, muttering the words he forgave you as you said the same. Neither of you realized just how hard it would be to move forward, but that was the thing about love, it conquered above all else.

Over time, you’d come to terms about your mom. Your dad would move down to Hawkins until you graduated, where eventually you and Eddie would have your own place. The abuse you had endured would be something that would always stick with you, but Eddie was your rock at the end of the day, and he’s the one that got you through it. Love always conquered all.

[riddlesb1tch]

Being Mated to Cassian

Cassian x reader

summary: a bunch of scenarios of what its like to be mated to Cassian

warnings: none!

~●○°●○°●○~

I feel like Cassian’s the kind of guy you’d have a best-friend's relationship with. Let me explain. Starting in the morning:

You glanced at the clock then at your mate still snoring soundly in bed and sighed. You and Cassian were supposed to be at the Townhouse in thirty minutes yet this male was still asleep. Rolling your eyes, you marched up to the bed. Cassian looked so peaceful laying on his side, face partially buried in the pillow, and hair swept over his face. What you were feeling at the moment looking at him might even be mistaken for adoration. You picked up a pillow and slammed it on Cassian’s face.   “Ow!” Cassian screamed, sitting upright in bed. “What was that for?” he asked.  “Get up! It's 12. We need to be at the Townhouse by 12:30!” you said and walked towards the closet to get ready.  Cassian groaned loudly, plopping back into bed. “5 more minutes,” he mumbled. Just as he was about to slip back into that peaceful slumber, you grabbed his shoulder to turn him onto his back and captured his lips into a kiss. Now he’s definitely awake.  You pulled away for a second and said, “Good morning,” then kissed him again.  “What are you doing? I haven’t even brushed my teeth yet,” he said.  You smiled. “I don’t care,” and kissed him one last time before pulling him up and out of bed. 

When Cassian gets injured and you’re tending to his wounds: 

He’s sitting in a chair while you’re perched on his lap, inspecting the gash on his wing near his shoulder that he got during training with Azriel. Your concerned frown already tells him that you’re upset he wasn’t more careful.  “Y/n, I’m fine,” he says but he’s quieted by one look from you. You pick up the antiseptic-soaked cotton and gently dab it onto the wound. Cassian hisses from the burning, eliciting a mumbled apology from you. You hold his face gently with one hand, thumb stroking back and forth on his cheek in a comforting gesture. He looks up at you with utter adoration, completely enamoured by your gentle and loving yet strict nature.  Finally, when you’re done, you look into Cassian’s eyes and find some of the anger dissipating.  You smile, gently holding his face between and kissing his forehead. Cassian leans into you, closing his eyes in comfort. You loop your arms around his neck and hug him. Your cheek rests on his forehead, and you sway side to side slowly.  “You gotta be more careful, Cassie,” you mutter and kiss his head again.  He looks up at you, kissing your lips in reassurance. “I’m okay, really. It's not that big of a deal.”  “I know,” you mumble. “But I don’t wanna wait for the day it is a big deal.”  Cassian’s heart stutters for a second. Finally, he smiles and says, “I’ll be more careful next time. Promise.” 

Going shopping with Cassian 

“How's this?” he walks out of the fitting room wearing a tunic.  “No,” you shake your head immediately.  “Why? What's wrong with it?” he asked, looking down at himself to see if he was not wearing it right.  “It looks like an oven is wearing a tunic, Cassie,” you reply.  “Damn, baby,” he says and walks back into the fitting room to try something else on. 

But god forbid anyone says anything to Cassian while you’re there

The IC was sitting in the living of the House of Wind, laughing and chatting about different things all that once. Cassian said something in response to what Amren said in a conversation between her and Nesta.  Immediately, Amren and Mor started jesting Cassian, calling him an unintelligent brute.  You knew it was all fun and games and neither of them really meant it, but you saw the light leave Cassian’s eyes.  You glared daggers in their direction, demanding them they take it back right now or the consequences would not be pretty regardless of how powerful either of them was. When it comes to your mate, no amount of power will stop you from hurting whoever dares to hurt your mate.  They immediately stopped laughing at the look you gave them.  “We didn’t mean it, Cassian, I hope you know that. We’re sorry,” Mor immediately said and looked to you for approval.  You gave a slight nod in response but didn’t smile to let her know apologising did not make this behaviour okay.  Rhysand watched the entire interaction with cunning eyes, internally laughing at how adorable your protective instincts were.  “You found yourself a good one, brother,” he mind spoke to Cassian. 

We all know that Cassian is everyone’s rock in difficult situations. He’s the positive one who manages to make a joke out of every situation, makes a problem not seem like a problem and keeps everyone sane during difficult times. Sometimes, though, all of that gets to him and leads to very bad mental health days where he needs someone to be his rock and take care of him. 

Cassian lays in bed on his side, turned away from the door where you stood. You knew he hadn’t gotten out of bed since morning. That was already concerning given this male never skips a day of training but you just thought he was tired from last night the IC had spent at Rita’s where the two of you had danced and drank a lot.  Now, you weren’t so sure.  You approached the bed slowly, deliberately making your footsteps loud so he wouldn’t be startled. You stroked the bond lovingly, but he kept his side firmly closed.  You laid a gentle hand on his arm, thumb drawing soothing circles into his skin.  “Cassie,” you called softly. “What’s wrong, baby?”  Cassian didn’t reply but he opened his side of the bond, letting you feel what he felt at the moment. Immediately, negative thoughts and an overwhelming sadness engulfed your heart. Your breath stuttered for a second from the pain of what your mate was going through.  You moved to the other side of the bed and laid down so you were now facing Cassian. His dim eyes flicked to yours and you stroked his cheek lovingly.  “I’m here, love,” you said softly.  That was all Cassian needed to hear. He moved closer to you and you laid on your back, giving him room to rest his head on your chest. Your arms wound protectively around him, one hand scratching his scalp lightly. He sighed against you, melting into your embrace, and fell asleep feeling safe and loved and protected. 

tags: @berryzxx @thelov3lybookworm @sarawritestories @milswrites

[suzukiblu]

Ko-fi thank-you sentences for Octopus behind the cut; Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good! (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“I mean, unless you’d rather have gotten a tutor or something, I guess, probably Batman could’ve helped me find you a tutor,” Billy says, shrugging a little awkwardly. He used to help other foster kids with their homework a lot, though, and he taught a couple street kids he knew some bits and pieces of stuff, at least. And also–“Wisdom of Solomon, you know? It’s, um, kinda a thing. Anyway, I’m gonna help you with your powers, so it’s the same kind of thing, right? And it’s normal to read to your kids, too.” 

“I don’t need to read to be a weapon,” Lynn mutters, still looking down at Tawky. “Not if I’m being deployed with a team, anyway.” 

. . . Billy thinks maybe he could just go ahead and burn down whatever’s left of Cadmus. Like. Morally, and all. Ethically. Whichever. 

“I’m not helping you with your powers so you can be a weapon,” he says firmly, making himself keep his voice even so Lynn won’t think he’s mad at him. Or, uh–royally fucking pissed at him, more accurately. That’s Cadmus. Like, definitely it’s Cadmus that he’s royally fucking pissed at. “I’m helping you with your powers so you don’t get hurt or accidentally hurt anybody else. Like–so you can use them however you want.” 

“I’m the thing that gets used,” Lynn says as he folds one of Tawky’s ears back and forth, voice and expression both just distant enough to make Billy hate literally everything that’s made Lynn feel like that. 

He is definitely gonna put in a request with the League to let him burn down whatever’s left of Cadmus. Either that, or there’s gonna be a real convenient thunderstorm concentrated right on top of it, and a whole lot of equally convenient and equally concentrated lightning strikes. 

And if that fails, then there’s gonna be a twelve year-old “civilian” sneaking in with some matches and lighter fluid, and he’s just gonna commit arson the old-fashioned way. 

“If anyone ever says that to you again, I’m gonna make them sorry for even thinking it,” he says as evenly as he can. Lynn’s mouth tightens. He keeps his head down. 

“. . . why would you have read to me?” he asks, the question a little guarded. “That wouldn’t have taught me anything.” 

“It would’ve taught you that I’d read to you,” Billy says. Lynn–frowns, like maybe he doesn’t understand what he means. Billy’s not sure he understands what he means, just . . . 

His dad read to him. And his mom too. 

And Uncle Eben definitely did not. 

And Cadmus didn’t read to Lynn either, he’s betting. As far as he can tell, all Cadmus ever did was jam a really biased education into his head and lie to and mind-control him, in fact. 

Cadmus was just really awful to Lynn in general, as far as Billy can tell. 

Lynn thought they’d have kryptonite here, so . . . yeah. Cadmus was definitely awful to him.

Billy really, really wants to make sure that Lynn’s first thought is never something like that again. Or at least, that his first thought is never something like that when it’s about him. 

About the person who’s taking care of him, he means. Lynn should–he shouldn’t–

Billy always felt safe with his dad. With both of his parents. He wants Lynn to feel that way too, because Lynn deserves to feel that way too. Like no matter what tries to hurt him, it’s gonna have to go through somebody else first, and somebody who’d never just stand by and let it get to him. 

Billy doesn’t know if Lynn’s ever felt safe in his life, all things considered. He grew up in a pod being lied to and woke up to mind control and more lies and got attacked by, like, a giant mutated jerk of a doctor who’d been controlling and hurting him all his life already, and then he left the only place he’d ever known just because he thought it was the right thing to do, and . . . 

Yeah. Billy can’t imagine “safe” is a feeling Lynn’s all that familiar with yet. 

Can’t imagine he’s ever really felt it at all, at this point. 

He–swallows, a little, and then makes himself smile at him again. Lynn’s still not looking at him, but Billy figures he’ll hear it in his voice, if nothing else. 

“I’ll read to you anyway, if you want,” he offers as he links his hands together behind his back, his voice coming out a little awkward; a little quiet. He doesn’t mean for it to, but . . . “Even if you can do it yourself.” 

Lynn doesn’t say anything. He rubs the pad of his thumb across one of Tawky’s paw pads and then squeezes it, just a little. Billy doesn’t blame him for wanting to hold somebody’s hand right now. It’s–a lot, probably. All this is probably a lot. 

All this is definitely a lot, and Billy doesn’t blame Lynn for anything he’s feeling about any of it at all. When everything changes all at once like–when somebody’s whole life changes and they lose everything and everyone they had before, and . . . and . . . 

It’s just a lot, he knows. 

Like–yeah. 

Of course it is. 

“. . . sure,” Lynn says, and glances up–not at Billy, exactly, but in his direction. He’s looking at his shoulder more than anything else, Billy’s pretty sure, but that’s fine by him. He brightens instinctively, resisting the urge to float up a little in excitement. 

“Cool!” he says. “Um–okay, yeah. Cool.” 

Lynn ducks his head again, looking more towards the wall now. He’s still holding Tawky’s paw, though, and he didn’t, like, go run off and hide in his room or get mad or anything, so Billy thinks things are going okay, really. Even if–even if some of this is a little harder to talk too much about, maybe. 

He really does want Lynn to feel safe with him, though, so he’s gonna have to be able to talk to him about the harder stuff too. 

He can do that, he promises himself. Or–he’s gonna do that, anyway. He’ll figure it out, one way or the other. 

Lynn deserves a dad who can do that, and Billy’s already decided he’s gonna be the kind of dad Lynn deserves, so–yeah. 

He can do it. 

He wonders if his parents ever felt like this with him. Felt like–like it was hard and scary and weird, but like they still needed and wanted to figure it out and do it right, whatever it took. Like it was more important to do it right than . . . than anything else. 

He doesn’t know, obviously. And he’s never gonna get to ask. But . . . but he hopes he’s at least doing this right enough that they would’ve been happy about it. Been–proud of him, for taking after them. Being like them, even just a little bit. 

They were both really good parents, and he just . . . they’re gone, and he’ll never see them again, and no one really remembers them the same way he does. No one loves them the same way he does. Not anymore. 

So–so if he can be a good dad to Lynn like they were good parents to him, then maybe at least there’ll be a little bit more of them left in the world. A little bit more that they got to do; got to make happen. Make matter. 

And maybe . . . maybe that means Lynn will love some part of them too, technically, if Lynn ever loves him. 

If Billy does this right, anyway. 

“Do you wanna walk to the library too?” he suggests. “It might be a little farther away than the diner, I think, but not too bad. And, um, we’ve got super-stamina and all, so yeah.” 

“. . . I’ve never walked that far before,” Lynn says. Billy blinks, wondering how Lynn knows that. He didn’t say how far it was for sure, just–

Oh. 

“You’d never walked as far as the diner before?” he realizes. Lynn nods stiffly. Billy’s chest sort of–hurts a little, maybe. “Did you like it, or was it too much? I know it’s kind of exposed and there’s a lot more people than you’re probably used to and all, so it’s okay if–” 

“It was fine,” Lynn cuts in, and then hunches his shoulders a little. “Uh. I mean–it was fine.” 

Billy’s own shoulders slump a bit in relief, and he smiles wider at him. Okay. That’s–okay, yeah. 

He really likes Lynn. Like–Lynn’s really easy to like, he means. He’s glad about that. Not that he was gonna take anything back or send Lynn back if he was hard to get along with or anything, obviously, but . . . he’s still glad, yeah. 

Really glad.

[3xiles]

Sweet lies part two

Pairing •Toji x gn!reader

Warnings• Angst!, Cheating, suggestive (they like lowkey make out), manipulation, UNHEALTHY RELATIONSHIP!, Cursing. Lmk if i forgot any!

Word count • 1079 words

A/n • I had this pre written ever since i put out the first part but was so hesitant on posting it LMAO! Enjoy! Masterlist is pinned!

You knew life after the honeymoon phase was rough but nothing could’ve prepared you for the drastic switch in you and Toji’s relationship. About two months the after you guys got married is when you realized the mistake you made. Your days went from him coming home from work and showering you with affection to him coming in with an inaudible hello. You were confused on what you could be doing wrong. He was coming home to a clean house with food on the table, a bath prepared and you all dolled up for him, just how he liked it. This went on for months and throughout those months he’s just been coming home later and later. The man who was once coming home every day at five now walking through the front door as late as ten at night. It didn’t bother you until your 26th birthday.

You woke up excited to celebrate your first birthday as a married woman. For your birthday last year Toji went all out so you couldn’t help but let your expectations be high! Toji wasn’t there when you woke up, which was normal because he usually leaves extremely early in the morning. You spent your day pampering yourself to the max, expecting to maybe go out later. Soon enough five o clock rolls around. You sit pretty and patient on the couch, telling yourself he’s just running a little late. You wait… and you wait.. sending text after text to your husband every hour.

Hubby💍❤️

5:30pm

Y/n: Hey babe coming home soon?

6:15

Y/n: Toj idk what you have planned but i’m super excited! see you soon❤️

7:23

Y/n: Hey is everything okay??

8:54

Y/n: Hello?

9:46

Y/n: Toji it’s almost 10 where are you?

10:27

Y/n: Toji?

You send your last text with tears falling from your eyes. You hate to think he forgot your birthday. It can’t be. He just got caught up in something. It has to be. You check the time one last time. 11:03. You then tell yourself you need to go to bed. As you stand up from the couch the door opens and the man you’ve been waiting for finally shows. You do nothing but stare at him, tears mixed with mascara running down your puffy cheeks. “The hell happened to you?” he says, taking off his shoes, tie, and blazer. He begins to unbutton his shirt, purple marks adorning his chest. That was in that moment when something in you just… snapped.

“Toji, what is today?” you slowly walk towards him. He shrugs, scratching the back of his head. “Look doll, i’m beat. Can we talk tomorrow?” he begins to walk towards the stairs that lead to your shared bedroom “No. Absolutely the fuck not.” oh crap. did you just say that? he stops in his tracks and turns to you. “Excuse me?” Shitshitshitshitshit what do you say? why did u say that? “Toji i asked you a question. What. Is. Today.” you keep up the tough girl act, too deep to back out now. “Y/n.” he walks closer to you but you back away “Toji today is my fucking birthday. Today is my birthday and i’ve been home all day thinking my ‘husband’ was going to at least come home on time but you were out fucking some bitch!” You begin to yell, crying harder than you were before. “The fuck are you talking about?” You weren’t stupid, you knew he was cheating but who were you to say anything. You were nothing without him. You didn’t want to ruin things. You can’t lose him. “Toji, i know you’re seeing someone else but i at least thought you would have some type of respect or decency to not do this to me on my fucking birthday.”You’re falling apart in front of him.

The silence is strong. He walks towards you and wraps his arms around you, holding you close. “Things just haven’t been right with me, i don’t know why i do the things i do. You know how much you mean to me baby, i never want to hurt you.” i never want to hurt you. Those words replay in your mind. He brings his hands to hold your face, wiping your tears with his thumbs. “You know I love you and only you, right?” you wanted to yell at him. You wanted to kick and scream but something in you made you believe every word he was saying. Instead of doing any of those things you just nodded. Shame rose in you but it all started to fade away when his lips connect with yours. You know this isn’t right, this isn’t healthy but that doesn’t stop you from wrapping your arms around his neck and letting his hands wander. “I’m so sorry baby.” his lips travel to your neck. You try to hold back sounds but he knows just what to do to get it out if you. “Gonna let me show my girl how sorry i am?” you just started at him. not wanting to say yes but you didn’t want to disappoint him by saying no either.

You have to draw a line somewhere. “I think i just wanna go to sleep…” Removing your hands from him and stepping back. His looks confused but he doesn’t press further. Is it bad that part of you wishes he did? You wished he would’ve showed some kind of kind want, not just wanting to fuck out of pity. You know why he didn’t tho, he already got his fix of pussy for the night and it didn’t come from you. What a shame.

That night you couldn’t sleep, you were up all night silently crying. Is this really what your life was? You had lost yourself in this relationship. Your 26th birthday was a wake up call. The next few days were rough, he was just coming home later and later. Not to mention he wasn’t even trying to hide his affairs, He started to be careless. Not bothering to cover the scratches or hickeys that covered his body, leaving his phone open when you could see messages from the multiple girls and having panties and various other items in his car that didn’t belong to you. It’s like he was trying to hurt you, but isn’t that what he said he never wanted to do?

[mechaknight-98]

Seeing Magenta (NSFW) FT Arin

Author’s notes: a continuation of “holy grail” title inspired by https://youtu.be/1YxNiEl_Fic?si=QaKLXjJQCN64hAOQ

I sat in the dimly lit quarters I shared with Arin, freshly dismissed by the Imperio of the Tarkiran Empire. A tide of emotions boiled within me, paramount among them a seething fury. Arin sat behind me worriedly healing my back while she pondered my actions that had landed another one of The Imperio's captains in the hospital for making inappropriate advances toward her. They weren’t merely flirting; their intentions were far more sinister, and I made sure they understood that such behavior would have consequences.

As I simmered in my anger, Arin held me from behind and whispered, "Thanks, Daizo," her voice barely audible. I turned to face her, noting the shy expression in her eyes.

"No worries," I replied.

The air in the room was heavy with tension as Arin silently embraced me. "Why do you hurt yourself for me?" she asked, a note of concern in her voice.

"Because you are the only normal thing I have left," I answered, and Arin hugged me tightly.

"Ow, still bleeding," I muttered. Arin chuckled softly and continued patching me up. As she did, she traced the brand etched into my back. Her warm touch sent shivers down my spine. I was dubbed the Imperio’s warmaster, yet in matters where I was supposed to be involved, I was often spurned or otherwise ignored by her. It was a frustrating deal, to say the least, especially since we had reached an impasse. A stalemate had developed between the Tarkiran Empire and the Alaran Federation. The casualties and responsibility weighed heavily on me despite Imperio’s encouragement. Arin knew this, so we never talked about it, but I knew she was worried about me. I wished for the war to end so I could leave the Empire as the Imperio had promised, but it dragged on.

After Arin finished healing me, she noticed the fresh scar on my nose and gazed at me with worry. "Why don’t you use the Battle Mantle when you fight?" she queried.

"Honestly, I’m scared. I try to limit its use, saving it for life-or-death situations because I don’t want to lose control and go into a rampage," I explained.

Arin smiled gently, then let out a laugh. "Soul of a hero, heart of a greedy dragon," she said. I looked at her, puzzled. "You are so good-hearted, but they don’t understand that. The only language they speak is strength, and they see your 'mercy' as weakness. Please, the next time a show of strength is demanded, show yours—all of it."

I hesitated before saying, "What if I lose control again, like last time?"

Arin smiled reassuringly. "I will be right there, like last time, keeping you from being too destructive." I smiled weakly as Arin leaned in and kissed me, a hopeful gesture to make us both feel better. Her lips tasted like coffee cake, which was pleasant. Before anything else could happen, an alarm went off. We groaned and reported to the helm. When we arrived, all the Imperio’s generals and officers were waiting.

"You're late," one of them said.

"I ran from my quarters, which, if you care to remember, are on the exact other end of the ship. I got here as fast as I could," I replied. The general narrowed his eyes at me in thought. Before he could begin a snappy reply, the Imperio said, "Garudamon, stop antagonizing the boy." I turned to face the Imperio as she looked at me, her gaze fierce, her eyes piercing into my soul. I remained strong.

"You vex me, Autumn. You continue to show your loyalty to me and me alone. You attack my other generals unprovoked and with the ferocity of your namesake. Why is that?"

"They went after what is mine," I replied resolutely.

"You refer to your paramour, I assume. Surely you can share her?" the Imperio negotiated.

I paused, knowing my next words needed to be careful. "Would you have me share my arm with the generals?" The Imperio shook her head. "I know you may not understand it, but she is my... dren, and is mine to care for, as I am hers. We are one flesh. To share her would go against the covenant I made."

"A covenant you take higher than your Imperio’s orders?" the Imperio questioned.

I nodded, choosing my words with great care. "The god I serve would never forgive me if something happened to her. While I trust you and a few others present not to hurt her, I do not trust everyone." The Imperio smiled at my conviction, but it was quickly replaced by a saddened frown. She couldn’t let my disrespect appear tolerated, especially with threats of mutiny from several high-ranking officers who believed she "coddled" me (The primarch being Garudamon).

"Well, then you know what that means," the Imperio said with dejected reluctance. I grimaced as she took out her labrys, ready to punish me. I stood resolute, but the Imperio wanted Arin.

"Garudamon, bring Augumon’s dren to me. This will be a far stricter punishment, and the consequences will sink in deeper."

Before Garudamon could touch Arin, I threw my sword at his arm, causing a minor flesh wound but enough to stop him. I stepped between Arin and the rest of the crew, signifying to the Imperio that I was opting for mutual combat. "You challenge me despite knowing you will lose? While I admire your resolve, I must punish you worse," the Imperio said. I recalled my sword and got into a combat-ready stance. "Very well, I accept your challenge."

Arin whispered in my ear, "Show them who you are," so I did.

A familiar magenta and teal aura surrounded me as I let the Mantle of Battle Song ring. The Imperio saw this and looked at me with confusion.

"What is this? This is not your usual enhancement magic, boy," she said, bewildered and in awe. 

I was silent as I lifted my blade and took a heavy swing. Energy from my aura followed the arc of the swing as it cut through the helm. Unused to this type of attack, the Imperio took the brunt of it. She barely recovered before I attacked her again, her movements lethargic as my magic had greatly sapped her energy. It was ironic, considering the name she had given me. I slashed at her again; she attempted to block but was a second too slow, my blade striking her shoulder. Despite its blunt nature, my blade still inflicted significant pain, and she endured another energy-sapping blow.

The other generals watched me in terror, seeing the crazed look in my eyes as I gave in to the Song of Battle. At the same time, they began to grasp the depths of my rage. I was ready to fight to the death at any moment. The Imperio, however, was all smiles. She loved seeing me fight with such ferocity; it reminded her why she had chosen me to join her empire and made me Warmaster. She managed to create some distance, but I was quickly upon her again. She smiled as I swung my blade, clashing with her axe. At this point, the "Greedy Dragon Heart" that Arin had mentioned began to awaken, and my aura changed as my rationality slipped and waned. The Fist of Dragons formed around my open hand as our duel continued. Arin watched intently, proud of me for taking her advice but worried about my self-control.

Another clash of sparks brought the Imperio and I face to face again. Her eyes met mine, and she was shocked to see nothing but a vacuous hunger. At this point, she could hear the Battle Song. She swung her axe at my head, but I intercepted it with the Fist of Dragons and disarmed her. That was when Arin’s voice reached me.

"Daizo, that's enough," she said. I stopped attacking and looked at the other generals present.

"Starting today, Arin is off-limits. While I may not win, I will ensure that every one of you loses before I leave her unsafe," I declared before leaving with Arin back to our quarters.

When we arrived, Arin was giddy, her face lit with happy smiles.

"That was so cool. I didn't know you could do that—using the Lost Beast Dragon's power," she said. I shrugged as we sat down, beginning to nurse the headache that always followed the Battle Song. Arin sat next to me on our shared bed, doting on me.

"See, it wasn't so bad. You just need some help. I know you don't like asking for help, but sometimes you need it," she said. I groaned, her voice usually pleasant but now feeling like nails on a chalkboard in my current state.

"Hey, Arin can you tone it down a bit? My head is killing me," I ask and Arin smiles with a pleased nod. 

Her eyes take a weird turn before I can feel the Air around me warp. 

"You know we didn't finish what we started earlier. How about we do that now," She said with her voice pitched deeper and Huskier. in her eyes, I see a wild desire that matches my own. she smiled before kissing me. She was the first to have her tongue give an exploratory entrance into the other's mouth. I happily accepted her advances, as her idle hands traveled under my shirt.  she breaks the kiss.

"I feel it inside you. The Lost Beast Dragon wants out." She says, "Please let it out."

Afraid I respond "No" and Arin pouts. Her magic washes over me and she says,

"Stop fighting it. you aren't two separate entities. you are one, now let him out." she said as she kissed me deeper

"I can't," I responded

Arin looked at me disappointed, and asked, "Why not?"

"I can't control it," I replied

Arin smiled and replied, "Then don't,"

"but what if I hurt you?" I ask

"You never really had control of it, to begin with," Arin flirted as she took off her shirt and went back in for another kiss. I felt safe in her arms and in that safety, I let my guard down. I let my powers mix and mingle for the first time and fully give in I watch as Arin smiles. my aura lifts out of me as it races to meet her as our lips crash. Arin becomes more aggressive in her ardor kisses, and I reciprocate. our tongues dance between our mouths as we create a frenzied tempo between us. She breaks the kiss and says. 

"Fuck me!" she pulls down her pants and panties in one fell swoop. I smile as I unbuckle my pants my rod stands at attention for her. 

"Oh so hard for me. I can't wait to feel it," Arin coos, as she sinks into my cock. she smiles at me with a lusted look which only makes me harder inside of her. I feel the Dragon begin to take over as she rides me. I take a firm grip of her ass and she moans before I spank her right cheek.

"Yes spank me," Arin says as she continues to ride me. Her pussy convulsed around me as auras mingle she looks down at my face. 

“Open your eyes toy. I want to watch you let go,” she chides as she intensifies her riding me. I open my eyes but I can feel my body and aura changing. 

I feel it gradually as her aura makes room for mine as she rides she also loses control and I see her moth Phoenix come out. She looks down at me her gold and grey aura envelopes me as we dive further into intimacy “Show me what you hide let me see if all. She moans. Her pussy is tight drawing, as her friction and as we reach our highs the barriers break and it occurs. We cum together and my beast dragon meets her moth Phoenix. Our eyes meet and I feel her love her aggression and her fire. She smiles and says I didn't know you were a wind dragon?” she says with a smile before kissing me. I smile and say to her 

“I didn't either.” 

We lay together for a moment then another until my cock begins to harden again. Arin moans as I am still inside her. 

“Fuck Me,” she orders. I pick up her light frame and lay her on the bed before I begin violently thrusting into her she moans in ecstasy, “Oh good boy,” she cries as I ravage her lithe body. I moan out as her body reacts favorably to the sensations her pussy tightens and eases around my cock in a way that attacks all my weak spots and erroneous zones to where my mind is mush 

“That a good boy give in to the pleasure, and cum.” her words cause me to erupt again as my mind can't process anything anymore. She smiles while watching me in a stupor. She leans up and kisses me. She smiles and wordlessly forces me hard again. My mind flashes and our auras mutate but I forget my worries as I mindlessly thrust again. Our union feeling so right overpowered the feeling of sinking feeling that I was crossing a very significant threshold with her. I pressed on as she encouraged me to fuck her, “Good boy keep fucking my pussy. Don't you like how warm and wet it is for you? It is all for you.” 

I nod reduced to wordless grunts I continue to fuck her and as our orgasms hit something strange happens I can a little piece of my aura become a little piece of hers and a little piece of hers goes into mine. We breathe heavily as we come down from our highs and our words resurface. 

“That was intense,” I said as we lay next to each other. 

Arin nods and says. “We have never been that aggressive for each other”

I nod and say, “I think we completed some sort of mating ritual,”

“I think so too because I feel a part of you inside me, and not just your cum but it's as if a part of your soul rests in mine.” I chuckle and respond

“Same. So what do we do now?”

Arin smiles and says, “You win this fucking war so we can go home and get married,” 

We share a bath and then go to sleep in each other's arms. I wake up early the next day feeling refreshed and ready to take on the day. I see Arin off to her training with Narset and go to my training with The Imperio. I feel a new sense of urgency instilled within me after my night with Arin. The Imperio takes notice. 

The atmosphere was different when I faced the Imperio. She had this wild look in her eyes. 

"What was that power you showed yesterday," She demanded without her usual greeting. 

"The Mantle of Battle Harmony," I responded 

"How do you use it? How does it work," The Imperio demanded.

I sighed knowing where this was going and hoping to curtail it, "I wish I could tell you as it comes from here," I said while pointing at my chest.

The Imperio glared at me, "Stop with the cryptic metaphors you're telling me that this is the one power you have no understanding or control over?"

I held up my index finger and said, "This is exactly the one specific power I have no control over or understanding of,"

"But you told me that it was not important and probably wouldn't see it all that often. From your demonstration yesterday, that was a lie." The Imperio questioned 

I responded defensively "How so?"

The Imperio rolled her eyes before saying "You may not understand it but the way you moved the power you held it was incredible. It was the strongest I had ever seen and you expect me to believe that it was just minor?"

I shrug and reply "Well no it's extremely dangerous to use because I can't "Control it" It's like I am reaching into a deep, part of my magic and myself and using it, but that part of me isn't cognisent in the same way."

The Imperio smiled "Well, then we will just have to train it, and tame it." 

I rolled my eyes this time and said "Oh right let's do that. It's not like I have been trying to since I was a teenager," 

"Well from what I have seen of you it seems like that was because the rest of those around you were cowards." she chides 

"Hey watch it," I say 

The Imperio looked at me confused, "Why? I am telling the truth. they stifled your growth because they couldn't see that you were going beyond them."

Guarded I responded "I never said any of that."

"You didn't need to. Everything about how you carry yourself and the fear of breaking things tells me more than enough about you to know. you live in irrational fear. Specifically of being considered a monster, but you are, and to win this war I will need that now more than ever."The Imperio said 

I shook my head and replied, "No, you don't. What you need to do is stop listening to Garuda, because all he knows is how to not lose. that's why you're in this Deadlock,"

"Careful Warmaster I trust my vizier more than I trust you," the Imperio cautioned 

Realizing my mistake I replied "I am not saying he's a bad guy. I do think he is but not for losing you the war. He sees this as a strategic give and take, and not for what it is and what will win."

"and what do you think will win?"

"A show of strength."

"Okay then show me. I will follow your council. You have the reigns. Show me how you win where I haven't"

My strategy was simple, instead of targeting military installations and combat supply depots we attacked all of their non-combat-ready ones. And crippled their economic and agricultural supply lines. Now we lost quite a few military depots of our own (I made a calculated choice to reduce manpower at them so the losses would be less devastating) I also made sure we minimized as many casualties as possible on both sides. This escalated the war of attrition to a new impasse. The Alarain could easily wipe us out but doing so would destroy their supply lines permanently as we had integrated fail-safe at every one of their locations so anything they took back was rendered useless within the hour. This allowed us to make a quick offensive to retake our resource lines back faster and we started to pull away with the war. Then that's when the peace talks started. 

six weeks later the war is over. The Imperio follows my stratagems breaks the deadlock and creates a true impasse that allows for peace negotiations. The Alaran Federation and Tarkiran Empire have reached a mutual truce. The Imperio and the Council are overjoyed that the fighting is finally over. I had been with The Tarkiran Empire for Two months and ended a multi-century-long war. I was regarded as a hero but honestly, I could only feel relief I could go back home. 

When Arin and I arrive back on with a ship gifted to me by The Imperio as a “retirement gift.” I was surprised to see it was the same as I had left it, with no cracks no destruction. We landed and decided to go back to my parent's place as they still would have my key. They were surprised to see me, more so after I told them everything (not the sex parts though) after that we went back to my place in the States and processed our next move. 

"So what now?" I ask Arin. 

"We go back to Korea and tell our friends we made it back." I nod and respond okay. So we take my ship and fly to Korea. and land on the top of her apartment building. We get into her apartment and sit down together. Arin finally decided to bite the bullet and call you and Hyeju. Hyeju picks up the phone and the first words are 

"Where the fuck have you two been," 

Arin laughs and says. "Well good to hear from you too," 

[mistystepmoonbeam]

Reborn into BG3: Chapter 12

You're reborn into BG3 with only the memory of your past life. Now you're Tav's companion on his journey, and must learn about yourself as much as your new reality.

Chapter 12: You take a walk through the cellar in the blighted village. When the others catch up you say something that freaks out Astarion.

Word count: 2.6K

A/N: I was undecided if I wanted to post this >.> But what the hells.

You’re on your own, now.  Just for a bit, thanks to Wyll convincing Tav you don’t need to be watched at all times.  And with no more goblins between you and camp you’re able to be left alone to sort out…yourself, you guess. 

You didn’t throw up again after leaving Ethel’s, but you may have done some crying as you walked in circles around the forest by the village.  If it wasn’t for having to face the others you’d have run back to camp, pulled scratch into your tent and bawled your eyes out.

Though you promised to go back to camp you find yourself in the blighted village.  You can't read the sign at the entrance but you know it says Moonhaven, and you try to memorise what you think the letters might be.  

A little stop can’t hurt, you think.  Anything to avoid a conversation about what happened.  And you can collect the herbs that are in the cellar, along with anything else that might be useful.  You take a small swig of the health potion to get the taste of bile out of your mouth and then stash it into your bag, since it’s now nearly empty after leaving your personal hoard at camp, and head down into the cellar.  Whatever objects had been clinking in there remain a mystery–you still haven’t looked inside and won’t even as you add more to the pack.

As much as you had wanted to abandon your staff you took it with you.  Necromancy or not, it could bludgeon someone should the need arise.   And apparently it can cast light in a small radius around you because it does just that when you make it to the bottom of the ladder.  

With a slight purple tint, the staff lets out an eerie glow giving you just enough light to see by.  There’s a small buzz of energy through your body that you assume is the Weave.  Not wanting to question things anymore, you get to work prying open the barrels and crates and find the herbs you’re there for.  You circle around and pick up a couple health potions, a couple mystery potions to be identified later, and find the hidden lever.  You hesitate before pushing it down, but curiosity gets the better of you in the end.  You watch the shelves move and step into the secret cave.

Now that you’re aware of the phantom limb and what it has been reaching for, you can feel the dead weigh on your mind.  You know where they are, kind of in the same way you could navigate your room in the dark.  They’re permanent objects stuck in place, and should you so desire, you can reach out and move them. 

“I guess I’m a necromancer,” you mutter as you pluck a bone cap out of the ground.  “Awesome.  Couldn’t be a wizard or a sorcerer or…wait, am I one of those?”

Wyll seemed to make it sound like a necromancer was separate, but it kind of was a subcategory of wizard.

You straighten and keep moving, turning the corner and finding the cavern.  You ignore everything there and head for the mirror that waits beyond the wooden planks.  

When you step up to it the staff's eyes glow violet again, and the mirror slides open.  You sigh.  “Necromancer it is, then.”

But…maybe there’s a clue to your identity in this place if you’re powerful or rich enough?  You move inside and find the lab on the right, the paperwork scattered about, and logbooks.  Or you assume they’re the logbooks—you can’t read, after all.  Instead of flipping through them you head to the exit and find the rusty key on the shelves.  Soon enough you’re standing before the first trap that lights the braziers, and risk the step.  The room is filled with light as the fires blaze to life.  

The Necromancy of Thay is just beyond the barred door, and this time you can hear it.  It whispers to you, quiet little voices that speak in a language you don’t know.  They’re distant, but like with the bodies of the dead you know where the book is.  

It takes some strength to push the rusty key into the padlock on the door, and with some force you manage to turn it.  The whispers quiet.

“A well hidden laboratory, wonder what it’s doing down here?”

You turn to find Tav, Wyll and Astarion walking into the lab.  He still has both eyes, at least.  After he outed Astarion you thought he might take the hag’s deal. 

“How did you find this place?” you ask.  

He only offers you a shrug, eyes darting around the lab in search of loot.

You relent,  “I found the hatch and started looking around.”

Tav smiles and rests his hands on the back of his head.  Maybe he’s just happy you aren’t ignoring him again, or running away.  By the way his tail flicks at the air you think that might be it, and the reason he’s being quieter than usual.

“I followed your tracks,” Wyll reveals.  Well, he did hunt down all sorts of beings as the Blade of Frontiers.  “What have you found?”

“Creepy book,” you reply.  They approach you, surveying the book and everything else in the small cage.  

“Trapped, most likely,” Astarion says.  He steps forward carefully and does something to the stand the book is on.  It’s so quick you don’t have time to peer around him and get a good look at what “disarm trap” really looks like.

Astarion picks up the book, turning it in his hands.  They begin to discuss what it could be when you remember the bracers that are down here.  You slip away without a thought and find the nearby gilded chest, poking it before opening it.  There are traps here, who knows what else could be rigged to explode?

When you open the chest you feel a wave of magic—Weave—come from it.  It’s different from the warmth of the healing magic, somehow sharper, more demanding.  You pull the bracers out and put them in your bag, nearly overflowing with loot now.  

You turn to rejoin the group only to nearly run into Astarion on the level below you.  You stumble back and catch yourself.  “I think Shadowheart was right about putting a bell on you.”

He gives you a smirk, genuine, your surprise.  A thought occurs but rather than ask it you bite the inside of your right cheek.  

“You are just full of surprises, aren’t you?” Astarion asks.  You don’t know what he’s referring to, considering the amount of surprises you’ve had lately.  He goes on, waving one hand in the air.  “Filthy rich, can’t read, enchanted clothing, and now, a necromancer.”

“To be fair, I don’t know anything about all of that.”  You try not to sigh too hard thinking of what Auntie Ethel had said.

“I wonder what other secrets that little head holds…” he muses.  It’s more to himself than you.  “And you killed on my behalf, I’m flattered.”

“I didn’t mean to, though.”

“I know, that’s what makes it all the more entertaining.  You, the picture of innocence, murdered a man for a vampire spawn.  Ha!”

You furrow your brow, unsure how you could be considered the picture of innocence.   But maybe that was only compared to those Astarion knew.  It was your first murder…and only murder!  Not first.  Just the one, and only, murder.

Yes, you are rather innocent in the terms of this world.

Astarion pinches your cheek between two fingers, bringing you back to the conversation.  “Don’t think this makes us even.”

“Okay,” you say when he lets go.  You rub at where he’d pinched, shocked he touched you so casually.  And not just that…his fingers are warm.  “Uhm…”

Astarion quirks a brow.  “Yes?”

“Can I ask you a question?  About being a vampire.”

He leans his weight into one foot, crossing his arms as he eyes you warily.  “I suppose.”

“Why are you warm?  Shouldn’t you be, like, cold?  Or room temperature?”

Astarion, for all his acting, is easy to read.  His eyes widen as he steps back, arms uncrossing and held out before him like he’s trying to catch his balance.  “What did you say?”

“Sorry, is that rude?”  You shift on your heels.  “I just thought vampires would be cold, with the…being dead, and all.”

“We are,” Astarion confirms, voice grim. 

“But your skin is warm.”

“I assure you, it is not.”

“I literally just had your hand on my cheek.  You’re warm.”

“I think I know what temperature my own body is!”  Astarion huffs and walks away.  You notice the bag that rests on his back has the weight of the book within.  

You move down the steps as he paces, annoyed.  

“What’s wrong, Astarion?” Tav asks.

You answer, “I asked him why—”

But you don’t get to finish it because Astarion wraps one hand over your mouth and the other on the back of your head, successfully silencing you.  He says, “Nothing!  Nothing at all.  Just discussing what reward I might offer for valiantly saving me from a monster hunter.”

You roll your eyes.  But having his skin on yours again confirms his heat.  He feels like a living, breathing human.  Why did that freak him out?  When he releases you he gives you a hard stare that’s easy to understand.  Shut.  Up.

Wyll and Tav watch you, waiting to see what you say but you just shrug.  “It’s not that important.”

Wyll frowns, but lets it go.  For now.  Tav bites into his bottom lip but keeps silent.

Astarion’s words remind you of something you’d like to forget.  The Gur.  You can’t even recall his name right now.  Maybe you should have tried harder to keep Astarion away, or convinced them to not go there at all.  But you didn’t, and there was no reset now.

You watch Tav flit about the basement collecting loot.  It does little to help your mood, but at the very least you take comfort in the fact that they didn’t call you a monster for what you did.   You promise to keep better watch of those chords in your head, the little phantom strings that connect to the dead around you.  Because avoiding the dead is an impossible task, at least as long as you travel with Tav and everyone.

When you return to the surface the others are waiting by the well.  You spot your bag of gold on Gale’s shoulder and hurry to take it from him, but he holds up his hands to stop you.  “What kind of man would I be if I let an injured person carry so much weight?”

You’re about to argue but think better of it when the world sways a little.  You manage to stay still, probably, and thank him instead.  

“Oh, right,” you say, pulling the magic bracers from your other pack.  “I thought you might want these.”

Gale takes the bracers.  It’s then that you notice the bags under his eyes are especially dark—and you realize he hasn’t told anyone about his condition.  As far as you know.   The little lines that travel up the side of his neck and towards his left eye are darker, too.

Your thumbnail scratches at your staff as you wait for him to say something.  Anything.  Literally anything would be good right now because it’s been ten whole seconds of him staring at the bracers and that’s long enough of him being silent that the others are now looking.

“Gale?” Tav asks.

It jolts him out of his stupor.  “Yes?  Oh, yes.”  He looks at you.  “Thank you.  Perhaps there’s something I must admit…”

Gale goes through his first speech about the orb, and then his second.  It’s a lot to take in in one go, if you haven’t heard it all before.  At the end he says, “I understand if you want to part ways—this orb, for lack of a better word, is immensely dangerous.”

Tav asks, “Why?”

All eyes turn to him, his head tilted with a smile on his face.  

“Because I could explode,” Gale says slowly.  

“So?”  Tav points to each companion as he adds, “Shar worshipper, warlock turned devil, angry githyanki, infernal engine that could explode, vampire, necromancer with memory loss, and I’m sorry Halsin we’ve barely just met, but…uh, old?”

There are worse things to be said, about all of you.  

“Plus we’ve all got worms in our heads,” Karlach says.  “Oh, well except for…”

Gale lets out a small laugh.  “Thank you.  All of you.  Now, even I’m getting tired of my own voice so shall we get going?”

The group begins their journey back to the goblin camp. 

“I am not angry,” Lae’zel says, her voice almost a hiss.  “At least not at any of you.  The mindflayers, however…”

Halsin walks next to her, asking questions about the tadpoles and their magic, while Astarion and Wyll follow, then Shadowheart, Karlach, and Tav.  You and Gale are last to leave the village.

“You knew, didn’t you?” Gale asks. 

You hesitate too long before answering.  “No.”

“You are a terrible liar.”  He keeps his voice low as you walk, putting the bracers on his wrists.  “But I consider that a good thing.”

You chew the inside of your cheek, unsure of what to say.  They seem to consider your knowledge to be some kind of deadly premonition, so maybe you should lean into that.  “I can’t really explain it.”

Gale smiles but it’s weak.  

“We’ll find lots of stuff for you to eat,” you assure him.  “Or absorb, I mean.  Like those!”

You point at the bracers.  He holds them closer to where you know the orb is tattooed on his chest, breathing deeply. 

“And if we can’t find anything there’s always my boots, or coat.”

“You would offer me those?”  Gale looks you up and down like he had when you’d first met.

You shrug.  “Of course.  Oh, do you need them now?  Because I just need to sit down to get them—”

You lift a foot as you walk, nearly stumbling to the ground when Gale stops you.  “No, no, I’m fine for now.   I am just—very grateful to have such a generous companion.”

“It’s not really generosity if it’s something you need though,” you argue.  

Gale smiles gently but moves on.  “So what’s this I hear about you being a necromancer?”

Whatever emotion crosses your face makes him pull back and try to change the subject.  Regret, maybe, or pain.  You can’t focus on controlling your features with so much going on.   “I don’t want to be…that.  I can feel…I can feel where they are—like something is dragging behind me.  It’s heavy, but easy.  I don’t want it to be easy.”

“Just because something comes easily to you doesn’t mean you need to do it.”

You look up at him, unaware your gaze has been on the ground this whole time.  “But I did it by accident.  I can’t—I can’t exactly control it.”

“That’s no problem to learn,” Gale says, as if moving the dead was no harder than riding a bike.  “Learn to control it, and don’t use it.  Though if you can move a boar in your sleep you must have some considerably…powerful benefactors in Baldur’s Gate to deal with.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t mean to frighten you,” he says, “but if you can use magic without the intent, without the movements or incantations, then you hold a great power.  And that is something that doesn’t go unnoticed by the wealthy elite.”

Chosen.  Like Gale had once been of Mystra you too could be the preferred mortal of a god.

“Meaning there may be some unhappy people if I don’t use magic.”

“It’s only one possibility of many,” Gale assures you.  “And until we know more I am happy to help you control your magic.  I’m told I’m an excellent teacher.”

You twirl the staff between your fingers and laugh.  “It would be an honour to learn from you.”

Taglist:

@half-poison-and-half-hope @sanscas @hotmesshobbit @godoffuckedupcats @thequeen-oni @terrenuserinj @straewberrysoda @theomnipotentfox @becksynthetic @quitecontrary-to-mary @furblrwurblr @mega-trash-cringe @fandomsbookclub @dontneedbiologytoadopt @pebble-bb @v3lv3tvampir3 @mrow-kat @jeneralmischief @notsaelty @runaway-17 @aoirohi @tinswhimsy @xxgrimripp3rxx @kemonocat-blog @thetiredtoad0-0 @sleepydang @iwannabealocalcryptid @troutberryspoon @betwixttheweave @the-pale-elfs-love

[cameronspecial]

A New Kind Of Normal (Part 9)

Pairing: Dad!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.2K

Summary: Y/N finally feels ready to take the next step in her relationship with Rafe, but she gets scared off.

Masterlist

Sabrina’s birthday party is the first social outing of Stella’s that Rafe goes to with his girls. He can’t necessarily say he loves being surrounded by other people’s screaming children and talking to boring ass parents, but he knows it is a part of parental duties. Stella is off in the bouncy castle with her friends and Rafe can’t help watching her like a hawk. He saw a video of a bouncy castle lifting off on Instagram and he is not going to let that happen to his little girl. Y/N reassured him that it wasn’t windy enough for that to happen and if it did get bad enough, he could be the first one to get her out of there. At the thought of Y/N, his eyes look for her in the crowd of adults. He finds her picking at the cardboard-tasting cake that is supposed to be sugar-free, dairy-free, eggs-free, flour-free and who knows what else. Rafe understands that children’s allergies can be serious, but people would be lying if they said this stuff doesn’t taste like anything that people would enjoy. Cake is a dessert; it’s supposed to be sugary and sweet.

He can see the disappointment on her face. She was so excited about the cake on the car ride over here, so he made a note to buy her one on the way home. They haven’t been on their date yet because they have both been so busy with Stella and work. Plus, Y/N made him promise to keep going to his sobriety resources so it has been conflicting with their schedule too. He is dying to go on the date with her; he needs to clear his work schedule for next week. Maybe they can go on a date while Stella is at daycare. Hmm, he should take her to that little bakery he found near his apartment that has a red velvet cake she would love. 

His focus is on Y/N completely and he doesn’t notice Raquelle's appearance beside him. Like poof. Her raspberry-red hair looks nothing like her son’s dark chocolate. Her long stiletto-shaped nails make Rafe wonder how she could do anything with them on. The point of her nails scratches at the fabric of his shirt on his chest. This draws his attention, causing him to look away from his love. “So… You’re Stella’s dad,” she states, giving him a Cheshire cat smile. He pulls away from her touch, “Yeah, I am. And you are Raquelle, right? Will’s mom.” “That I am. You know, I had Willy pretty young too. And I’m not married or dating anyone,” she flirts, batting her eyes. Rafe thinks she might have something wrong with her eyes. Should he call an ambulance for her? It would be bad for her to die in front of the kids. He knows she is flirting, but for once in his life, he doesn’t know what to do. Normally, he would flirt back, which isn’t what he wants to do with Y/N in his life. 

“Okay… I don’t really know what to do with that information,” he posits, looking around for anyone else to talk to because it doesn’t seem Raquelle is getting the message. 

Stella’s bounce loses its pep as she watches Will’s mommy talk to her daddy. Ms. Raquelle is giving her daddy a funny smile and she doesn’t like it. Her eyes find her mommy, spotting the way her maternal parent is glancing in Rafe’s direction. Y/N’s eyes lost the shine they had and her smiles turned fake. Stella can only conclude the reason for her mother’s upset is Ms. Raquelle touching Rafe. She scrambles out of the jumping house, sliding down the exit until her feet find solid ground. Her shoes are on the wrong foot but she doesn’t seem to understand it is the cause for her toes being pinched. Sabrina’s mom is handing out juice boxes and she grabs a cranberry one from her even though she hates cranberry.

 Rafe will always spot Stella in a crowd; his eyes are now trained to always be looking. So when he sees her running towards him with a juice box, he preemptively kneels to her height. Raquelle pauses her conversation to watch the father-daughter reunion. “Daddy, can you open my juice box, please?” Stella asks, holding up the box to him. He happily takes it and kisses her head, “Of course, little witch.” He puts the straw in for her and gently hands it back to her. “Okay, now, be careful. Don’t squeeze it.” She brings it to her lips taking a sip of the bitter concoction she hates. Her child reflexes kick in and she spews red juice all over Raquelle’s white skirt. “Ew, yucky,” Stella whines in disgust. Raquelle lets out a loud yelp as her hands fly to her skirt. “Stella, we don’t do that when we don’t like something,” he addresses Stella first before turning to Raquelle. “I am so sorry, Ms. Walker. I’m sure some bleach might get that off.” She tries to give him a genuine smile, but when she looks at Stella, it is clear she is annoyed. She heads to the bathroom, so Rafe picks up his daughter. Stella fears she is about to be reprimanded, yet the laugh Rafe lets out changes her mind. “You are one smart cookie, little witch. Thank you for saving Daddy,” he praises, pressing his lips to her cheek. She beams at his words and brings him closer to her with her arms around his neck. “You’re welcome, Daddy. She was making Mommy sad,” she informs her father. Rafe glances at Y/N, “Really? I guess we should go give Mommy some kisses to show her how much we love her.”

Stella wiggles out of grasp, wanting to be the first person to reach her mother for a kiss. Rafe smiles at the scene of Stella running into Y/N’s arms. Y/N kisses her daughter’s cheek and giggles at something she said. Rafe wants moments similar to these forever. He wants to give his two girls the world. 

——

Stella sits at the counter at the Diner, watching her mother go through some receipts opposite her. “Mommy, will you ever go on a date with Daddy?” Stella ponders out loud. Her feet swing at a quick pace like she is in a swim meet. Y/N gives the girl a surprised look, “I will eventually.”

“When is it eventually?”

“When I finally get all my work done and you have someone to look after you.”

“You are done with all your work. And Uncle Joshy or Benny could watch me. Auntie Sarah and Wheezie can too. So why don’t you want to go out with Daddy?” 

Y/N’s hand reaches out for her daughter, gently squeezing the young girl’s cheeks together. “My baby is so smart. I do want to go out with Daddy. I’m just a little scared,” Y/N confesses. Stella’s head tilts, “Why? Daddy is really nice.” 

“He is, Baby. But Daddy could have lots of intelligent and wonderful girls, while Mommy hasn’t been on a date since you were born.” 

“You don’t have to be afraid. Daddy loves us both very much. I can see it, Mommy.” 

Y/N didn’t know Stella was the president of the Rafe and Y/N fan club, but she finds it adorable. “Okay, maybe I’ll go over to Daddy’s house after work. Do you want Uncle Benny or Josh to watch you?” she asks, pulling her phone out. Stella takes a second to think, “Uncle Joshy. I want to eat dinner tonight.” It cracks Y/N up that Stella understands her uncles’ personalities so well. Even when Y/N was younger, Josh was always more responsible than their older brother. Benedict would babysit and they’d eat candy for dinner while Josh forced them to have some vegetables as dessert. “Okay, Baby. I’ll get Uncle Josh to come over.”

——

She gets out of her car, making sure to lock it before entering the apartment building. The concierge knows her by now and asks her to sign in without an issue. Her nail finds a way between her teeth, nervously turning the smooth surface into a jagged mess. The elevator dings and she steps onto it. Her mind is going over what she is going to say like a mantra. She wants this to be perfect for them because if this is the start of their story, it needs to be a good one. As she steps out of the moving contraption, her eyes fall on someone unexpected at his door. 

There is no reason for Raquelle to be at his place unless Y/N misinterpreted what she thought to be a one-sided flirty conversation at Sabrina’s party to actually be a two-sided one. Of course, Y/N waited too long to make any concrete plans with Rafe and he moved on. She missed her chance. Her eyes glass over, running back to the now-closing elevator. The door closes and she lets her tears fall down her face.

The appearance of Raquelle at his front door is one he knew was coming but really didn’t want. Yesterday, he had gotten a text saying she found his watch at the party. He told her she could bring it over today. He has enough money to buy a new one, but this one is sentimental. His dad gave it to him when he graduated high school from his mother. Before she died, she had bought gifts for all her children to be given to them at their graduation. It was his most prized possession after his daughter and Y/N, of course. Not that they were possessions, he just lacked a better way of thinking about it.

“I’m so glad that I found it. This looks important,” she comments, holding it up to him. He takes it out of her hand, “Thank you. It is important. It is a present from my mom before she died.” “That’s really sweet. So… since I’m here, do you want to go out for dinner? On a date,” she questions. She steps closer to him and puts her hand on his chest. He gently removes her hand, “No, I’m sorry. But I’m committed to Y/N. She’s the only one for me.” Raquelle steps back as soon as he says those words. “I didn’t know. I am so sorry I’ve been bothering you so much. I thought you guys weren’t together,” she explains with an apologetic smile. 

“It’s okay. And we aren’t dating officially yet. We have a date that still needs to be planned, but I know she is who I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

“That’s really sweet. I hope you guys find the time for your date. And if you need a babysitter, I know Will would love to have Stella over, even with their breakup. Do you think we could still be friends?”

“I would love to be your friend.” 

——

Y/N may have allowed Rafe to see Stella early; however, it doesn’t mean she let him be alone with their daughter yet. He’s regained most of her trust; it’s just this part that she is holding back on. He understands why she fears something like that could happen again and he respects her decision. He still comes every day after work to the diner to spend time with the two girls and make sure they get home alright. He walks into the diner to find Stella gone. He totally forgot she was staying at Wheezie’s tonight. It doesn’t mean he can’t hang out with Y/N though. They can finally talk about when they could go on a date. “Hey, Buttercup. I think we should talk about our date,” he tells her, sitting on the stool. Y/N freezes at his words, “Actually, Rafe. I wanted to talk to you about it too.” Rafe knows what her tone of voice means. Bad news for him, especially since she used his name in a none sexual setting.

“I’m not going to like this news am I?”

“Rafe, I’ve been thinking and I really don’t think it’s a good idea. I really shouldn’t have suggested it in the first place. I mean we’ve been too busy to go on our date so far and I don’t see that changing any time soon. You should be focusing on your sobriety.” 

“Yeah, but I could do both. I know I can.”

“What if you can’t though? You might be putting too much on your plate and it might cause another relapse. The last thing I want to do is put more pressure on our relationship and you.”

“Right, right. No, I understand. You are right. We make a great co-parenting team and it would be strange to change that. I just remembered I have to finish some work, so I’m going to go.”

Rafe tries to hide his upset, so he hides his face from her and heads directly toward the door. Why does this keep happening to him? He is always so close to getting everything he dreams of until something pulls it away from him. 

Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @drewstarkeyswifehoe @kisstaya @magicalyoura @mp-littlebit @loverfu55ii @dark1paradise @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @alyisdead @emeloyy @js-a-writer @kisstaya @optimisticsandwichgladiator @justdamnpeachy @theoraekenslover

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

Enough

*gasp* 2 uploads in 1 day?

Summary: The burden of leadership weighs you down but Astarion helps you shoulder it

Astarion knows what an empty smile looks like. After two centuries of putting one on, he can tell at a glance whether a smile is genuine or empty, and the smile you’re currently giving Karlach is anything but genuine.

He watches as you sort through today’s haul with unfocused eyes, you may be here physically but mentally you’re far far away, an image Astarion has seen in himself many times over. He can’t help but worry, he’s never seen you like this, and as the leader, if you weren’t in the right state of mind, well disaster was sure to follow.

But how is he to approach you? You’ve been keeping to yourself, only talking when spoken to with a tension in your voice that wasn’t there before. Poking one’s nose in areas where it didn’t belong is your thing, not his, and he’s afraid of ruining the relationship the both of you share. He clings onto that relationship like his life depends on it because to a certain extent it does, but also because it’s one of the few things he can call his own and he doesn’t want to lose it.

You head into your tent, the flap swallowing you whole but he remains where he is, hesitation preventing him from following you in. He fights with himself about whether he should enter, he knows he’s welcomed in your tent but he doesn’t want to intrude, so he lingers outside, pretending to busy himself with a book when he’s really listening in to your tent.

He keeps his concerns to himself when you don’t invite him into your tent for the night like you would usually do and heads to the woods to hunt, hoping that the chase will be enough to distract him from his worries but with each step he takes, all he can think about is the tired empty look in your eyes.

After taking far longer than usual to finish up his hunt, he heads back to his tent, ready to turn in for what remains of the night when he hears sniffles. Usually, he wouldn’t concern himself with such things but it’s different when it comes from your tent. He cautiously makes his way over, quietly hiding outside your tent as he debates whether to enter it or not until Karlach comes out of nowhere and gives him a little shove.

“Go on in, Fangs. You’re the only one whom they’ll listen to.” The Tiefling flashes him a grin before heading back to her own tent. Astarion watches her go, and then turns his gaze back to your tent where the sniffles have stopped, takes a deep breath and heads inside.

“May I come in, my dear?” He asks, lifting the tent flap.

“You’re supposed to say that when outside the tent not inside,” you sniff.

He can see your bloodshot eyes even as you try to avert your gaze, see the mess that your tent is in because you haven’t been tidying things up and makes his way over to you, sitting right by your side.

He doesn’t say a word, he’s not sure how’d you react to the practiced words he can so easily spout without a second thought and so he simply sits there, letting you know that he’s right next to you should you need anything. His gaze searches you for a hint of what else he can do and he holds out his arms so that you can fall into them. He curls around you, running his fingers through your hair like you do for him whenever he’s feeling down and feels you lean into him.

Silent tears stream down your cheeks, staining his clothes but he continues to wrap you in his embrace, patiently waiting for you to be ready to open up.

“It’s too much,” you whisper after a while.

“What is?” He murmurs, continuing to stroke your hair.

“Everything. This whole tadpole thing, this whole leading thing. I’m not suited to be the leader, all I’ve done is get everyone into terrible situations and everyone but me pays the price.” You begin to sob, the weight of it all crashing down on you. “Why am I even the leader? Is this all a mistake? Am I a mistake?”

“It’s not.” He says with such firmness it catches you off guard. He glares at you, red eyes glowing furiously. “It is not a mistake. You are not a mistake. Do not ever say that about yourself!”

He holds you tightly, burying his face into your hair. “You are the reason Cazador can’t control me anymore, you’re the reason I can figure out how to love again, you’re the reason why I don’t stare at my body in disgust and hatred anymore. Without you…I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’re my everything,” he whispers. “My everything. I want you to see that, to realise how important you are. You’re the only thing keeping this bunch of weirdos together, no one else can do that.”

You feel the dam break and tears start flooding out. You cry, wail, let it all out as he hugs you, clinging onto you. He feels his own undead heart ache at the sound of your cries and wishes he could fight your inner demons for you. Alas, just like how he has to fight his own inner demons off, you have to do the same thing too, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be there for you. After all, you are always there for him when they come, and you’re the one he chose to be his lover. He swore to protect you the day you confessed your feelings for him, and he will uphold that promise, no matter what.

He feels your nails dig into his flesh and winces slightly when they dig a little too deep, but it’s a small price to pay for your comfort.

“When the demons come knocking, remember that I will always be there for you. I will fight with you, protect you because I need and love you.” He’s never felt so vulnerable, his walls brought all the way down with this confession of his but he knows you won’t hurt him.

You bury your tear stained face in his chest, tired from all the crying but feeling lighter because of it. You feel his hand rubbing circles on your back, a comforting motion and your eyes begin to close, your body worn out from the day’s events.

“I need and love you too,” you mumble as exhaustion takes hold, your doubts and worries banished for another day. “Thank you.”

“Thank you.”

[jrow]

May Prompts (19)

Day 18 here. Start from the beginning here.

Weather

They are talking about the bloody weather.

Sure, he is legitimately thrilled to be outside for the first time in days (even if he is stuck in a wheelchair) and it is unseasonably warm. But still, the weather hardly warrants 10 minutes of conversation. He knows that he and Molly are both avoiding having what might be a slightly uncomfortable conversation. It is so very British.

He sighs and looks at Molly, who is still talking about how Toby loves lying in the sun. Enough is enough.

“Molly,” he interrupts, “do you know if I gave Sherlock his birthday gift? Do you know if he opened it?” There is no point in beating around the bush.

Her shoulders tighten a bit but she lets out a sigh. It’s like she’s both relieved and anxious that they are having this conversation. “You definitely gave it to him. I guess you don’t remember but you were … determined when you went over there that night.” She smiles sadly. “It was about time, if you ask me.”

He takes a deep breath. “I don’t remember getting to Baker Street but … yeah, determined is the right word. I remember feeling that.” He closes his eyes. “Sherlock hasn’t said anything.”

Molly scooches down the bench so she’s closer to him. “He hasn’t opened it,” she stage whispers. She looks around the hospital garden as if making sure no one’s listening. “I popped by Baker Street yesterday—Mrs. Hudson let me in. I wasn’t snooping, I swear! Sherlock borrowed a few files from me last week and I needed them back. I didn’t have the heart to ask him to get them so I just did it myself.” She leans closer. “And your gift was still unwrapped on the coffee table.”

He rubs his hand over his face. “Okay, that answers one question. But why hasn’t he mentioned it at least? Even in his recounting of what happened that night?”

“John,” she says, reaching out and touching his leg. “He’s terrified. And, quite frankly, he has other things on his mind.”

“He feels guilty. It’s obvious.”

“Yes. Incredibly obvious.” She chuckles. “He feels guilty about your fall. You know how he can be. Somehow his silly little brain has decided it’s his fault. I suppose he thinks he should have caught you.”

She makes a good point, but he can’t help but worry it’s something else. “It could be about the gift, though. What if he deduced what’s in the box and feels guilty that he doesn’t want the same.”

She looks to the sky and sighs. “Boys,” she says quietly as if to herself before turning her gaze back towards him. “That’s stupid, John,” she says bluntly.

John leans back, a bit offended. “Come on, you know Sherlock can deduce anything.”

“Not about you!” she says, raising her hands in the air. “You’re his blindspot.” She puts her hands down and takes a deep breath. “And do you really think he’d spend time deducing a birthday gift while you were lying in a hospital bed? I saw him that morning, John. He was a mess. Kept it together on all things Rosie but all in all a mess. He’s not feeling guilty because he thinks he needs to let you down easy.”

John feels slightly chastised but also better. Molly isn’t lying about this. She believes what she’s saying. That’s the best he can hope for.

“Thanks, Molly,” he says, leaning forward to put a hand on her shoulder. “For everything.”

“I’m happy to help. I keep offering to do more with Rosie, but Sherlock refuses. At some point I do want to actually see her when she’s awake!”

He laughs. That all sounds about right.

She shrugs. “You know, I’m not sure Sherlock will get it anyways. When he opens the gift, I mean. You are trusting that present to explain quite a lot. Most people would just see it for what it is. A bit extravagant maybe, but that’s it.”

“He’ll take one look and put the pieces together.”

“Blind spot, John. And then you’ll be forced to use your words. Heaven forbid.”

“He’ll know, Molly.” He takes a breath. “I was determined. I am trying to get that determination back. And … I’m not good with words.”

“You two are a pair in that regard.” She shakes her head and then stands up. “Come on, let’s get back.”

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[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for “assuming someone’s tone” and leaving a TTRPG a few hours after joining? 🤡🎲

This happened a while ago but I’m still baffled by it. Basic gist of the situation is that I (18) joined a campaign my friend, Rye (18) , was starting. She added me to a group chat for planning purposes after giving me the basic spiel about the campaign.

For context, I’d been in a larger group chat with some of Rye’s friends before, one that Cole was also in. He kind of rubbed me the wrong way - he only really responded to his favorite people (and it was very obvious who his favorites were), he had some annoying but harmless texting behaviors… he was also needlessly rude to a friend of mine (they answered a question he had posed, he swore at them and said he wasn’t finished asking, they said they’d thought he was finished because of the punctuation, he said it would have been clear to anyone else who had read his texts that he wasn’t finished - it was a whole mess) and that type of behavior continued to the point where they left that group chat. I stayed, but I blocked Cole just because seeing his messages was irritating me, but I still wanted to talk to Rye and some other friends I was starting to make.

Fast forward about half a year, and I joined Rye’s group chat for the campaign, realizing that Cole is also in the group chat. I was immediately on guard, but I was willing to put the past bad vibes aside to be able to play with him. I unblocked him (I don’t think he ever knew I had blocked him in the first place, we didn’t have many one on one conversations before this) to be able to work with him better. I was the last to join the group chat and so went to read what others had been saying about their characters before making my own. The first red flag was that Cole described his character as a loner who never spoke to anybody and kept to themselves in the shadows (edgy, but whatever, I could live with it). I saw most other people had included what class they were going to play with their character descriptions, but Cole hadn’t, and because I didn’t want to step on anyone’s toes/wanted to have a balanced party, I asked him what class he was playing. To which he responded, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

…Red flag number two. I took a second to cool off before I responded, and when I came back he and another player, Oliver, were talking about what I had said. Cole was saying, “Who said we all had to play different classes? That’s a dumb rule,” which infuriated me but I just responded with “Nobody said we HAD to, I just wanted to for my own enjoyment and to diversify the party. But you’re right, we can still have plenty of fun even if two characters are the same class.” I decided to just let it go, and that if I ended up playing the same class as him, he couldn’t really complain.

So I started creating a character concept, and while I was looking through my D&D materials, Cole was complaining to Oliver in the group chat about a certain collaborative aspect of character creation he was struggling with because his character wouldn’t know anything about anyone else (because they were such a loner. This is why solitary characters with no social connections don’t work for collaborative games!). I hopped in and suggested that maybe Cole could do the collaborative portion in a meta way instead of through his characters eyes; if anything, it might help with brainstorming. He responded, “I beg of you to read my character description. If you did you’d see my character wouldn’t be able to do this because they don’t talk to anybody.”

Huge red flag - number three. A) I had read his character description. B) I had just proposed a solution for his second sentence. We are not friends, and it baffles me to this day that he thought responding to me so passive aggressively was an appropriate way to talk to someone who’s pretty much a stranger. I pretty much realized that I couldn’t just take shit from him and I needed to stand up for myself, so I very politely told him, “Hey, please moderate your tone. You’re not speaking to me in a way that’s very nice.”

He said, and I quote, “That’s not my intended tone. Sorry. I guess I’ll just go.” ???? Red flag four? At this point I was pretty sure I didn’t even want to play with him, but that response was something I expected from a 12 year old, not a full adult, and I was so confused at this point. Oliver spoke up and said they were feeling uncomfortable, that it was probably just a misunderstanding and Cole hadn’t meant to be hostile, and that we were all in the group chat to just have a fun time and play a game together, so let’s all be nice to each other. That also made me angry, because there had been no point during the conversation where I had been anything but polite, and Cole had been rude to me multiple times. I still kept my text calm and told them that even if Cole hadn’t meant to be hostile, his words still came across as hurtful, and that’s all I was saying. I told them I was going to go work on my character, and assumed the conversation was over for now.

I left for maybe ten minutes, and when I came back, it was to a full page-length paragraph of text from Cole.

“i cant really take responsibility for your assumptions on my tone man. especially when i was just asking you to read my characters info thing and then providing the context anyway so you wouldnt have to go look for it. its not really fair of you to bite at me based off of what you assume my tone is without asking for clarification then still tell me it came off as hurtful when i and another person stated that the tone wasnt hostile. if my nonexistant tone is off it is because i am immensely overwhelmed due to several reasons, in which your assumptions of my tone did not help im too tired to try to think of whatever tone tags would fit here but please take responsibility for your assumptions instead of treating me like i was in the wrong for trying to clarify something to help you understand something”

That was the last straw for me. I didn’t even respond, I just straight-up left the group chat. I was genuinely at a loss after reading that, and I knew I would never be able to play with Cole, so I messaged Rye (who was asleep at the time) privately and apologized for leaving so abruptly, that I wouldn’t be able to play with someone who couldn’t respect me, and that I hoped she had a lot of fun with the campaign and wished her all the best.

She responded the next morning saying it was all good, but I can’t help wondering if I’m TA for “assuming” Cole’s tone and not “taking responsibility” or for leaving so soon after joining without really giving playing a chance.

[lookingfts]

I love this new AU!!!! You’re such a talent writer. Im a sucker for angst. Maybe we could see Anthony getting jealous of Kate saying she has date ??

​​Thank you! I love jealous Anthony - let's do it.

*sexy snippet below*

I want to see you tonight.

Kate felt that familiar flutter in her stomach and in her core at the words. It was truly irritating, how quickly her body responded to the slightest attention from Anthony. When she had signed up to be a sugar baby, she was under the distinct impression that she would have the control.

Not that she was upset about how good the sex had turned out to be. Just that she didn’t think she should be so addicted to it. Craving Anthony was dangerous when all of this was only ever going to be a temporary arrangement.

That reminder doused cold water on the part of her that wanted to cave and say yes. Always. Every single fucking time.

I can’t, sorry, she typed with unsteady hands. We didn’t have plans tonight, and I’m going out.

Going out where?

Kate let out a frustrated breath. She needed to finish getting ready - she should just ignore him. He had no say in what she did outside of their time together, and he knew that.

And yet she could never let him have the last word, for some reason. I have a date. I’ll come by tomorrow, like we agreed.

Anthony didn’t respond, and Kate wasn’t sure what to make of the swooping feeling in her stomach. Did she want him to fight her on it? What the hell did she want from him, anyway?

Tossing her phone on the bed, she dug through her dresser drawer. Sam was a perfectly nice, attractive guy who had run into her at a coffee shop and asked her to dinner. There was nothing in her contract with Anthony that said they were exclusive, and Kate thought an evening with someone else might help shake off this strange grip Anthony had on her. Bring her back to the real world before she got lost in Anthony’s fantasy existence of luxury cars and huge homes and hedonistic weekends away.

She hadn’t even planned to tell him about it, but he asked, and she didn’t see the purpose of lying to him. Anthony might have been paying her, but he certainly didn’t own her.

Kate tugged on a modest bra and knickers set - she wasn’t expecting anything physical to happen tonight, but of course, she wasn’t opposed if it felt right.

A little voice in her head whispered It won’t feel as good. Nothing will.

She shoved it away.

After zipping up her purple minidress, Kate slipped into a pair of gold heels and matching earrings. Her hair was curled into loose waves, black liner rimming her eyes, and she had just finished applying gloss to her lips when there was a knock on the door. 

Without even looking, she knew who it would be. Sam didn’t know where she lived, and her family would have called first.

Kate was already furious when she threw the door open, Anthony standing there still in his work clothes, looking tired and a little haggard. “I told you I’m busy.”

His eyes went dangerously dark as he looked her up and down, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Yes, I know. You have a date,” Anthony said, putting venom behind the word.

“And you came to try and stop me?”

“No.” His brows furrowed, like he was surprised by the accusation. “I don’t think I can stop you from doing anything.”

She faltered slightly. Anthony had a way of always turning her perception of him on its head, a constant puzzle that she hadn’t even begun to solve. “Then why-.”

“I told you. I just wanted to see you.” In two steps, he was in front of her, grabbing Kate’s waist and tugging her against him. Instinctively, she melted into his arms, breathing heavily as he buried his face in her neck. “When are you supposed to meet him?”

“In half an hour,” she said, almost a moan as he kissed a path along her throat. “Anthony.”

“I won’t stop you from going on your date.” He walked her into the living room, until her legs hit the back of the sofa. “But you’ll have me dripping out of you.”

The breath was knocked from her lungs when Anthony spun her around and bent her over the sofa, her fingers curling into the cushions for stability. She knew this was insane, knew she could say the word and he would stop, but she made no move to halt the madness. Anthony groaned deep in his throat as he rucked her dress up over her arse and stripped down her knickers, leaving Kate to eagerly kick them off.

Two fingers slipped into her mouth as Anthony pushed into her, a little slower than he usually did when there was more foreplay involved. Kate whimpered at the stretch, her hair falling in a curtain around her face as he eased into her, playing with her clit to help them both along. There was something filthy about it - Sam was heading to the restaurant to meet her while she let another man hold her down and fuck her.

Once he was hilted inside her, Anthony gripped her hips bruisingly hard and pulled her back against him, rough, deep thrusts that did something good for her soul. He didn’t feel controlled, meticulous, calculating the way he often did. He was frayed, full of jagged energy and verging on desperate.

Kate got her bearings and slammed back against him, shattered cries leaving her lips as he invaded every part of her. Ensuring she would feel him between her legs with every step she took. Anthony’s guttural grunts on each thrust were making her brain fuzzy, a primal connection taking hold of them both.

His fingers were still on her clit, demanding little circles until it was all too much and Kate whined, coming hard on his cock. Anthony draped himself over her back, groaning against her skin as his warm release filled her.

They lay there for a long moment, panting, trembling with the aftershocks. “Close your legs,” Anthony ordered, gently pulling out of her, and Kate found herself complying without a thought. 

She turned around, finally meeting his eyes. He looked wrecked, and Kate stared up at him, brushing her hand through his hair. “Are you okay?” she asked quietly.

Anthony sighed heavily, something she had learned meant he was not okay in the slightest. “I just needed that,” he said instead of answering her question, pulling her into his arms again and kissing her head. “Thank you.”

As he held her in silence, Kate knew she had a choice. To kick him out and meet Sam and follow wherever that path might lead. Or to choose Anthony, even if at the end of it all, he wouldn’t choose her back.

“I can stay,” she whispered. It wasn’t really a choice. Or maybe it was one she had already made. “If you want me to.”

He sighed. “Kate-.”

“Ask me. Ask me and I won’t go.”

There was an aching stretch of silence, Anthony tense against her, a debate raging in his mind. Kate wondered if he would push her away, if she would offer herself up and be rejected and go on the date with Sam knowing that it wasn’t where she really wanted or needed to be.

“Don’t go,” he said tentatively. For as commanding as he was at work and in bed, Kate wondered how often he really asked for what he wanted. She had told him her answer already, and yet he didn’t seem to trust it. “Stay with me tonight.”

Kate nodded, running her hand over his back. “I’ll stay.”

[ithebookhoarder]

Hello hi ! 🤗

Can you do a "bau reacts" when they are undercover in public and about to be found out so the reader just starts making out with them to pretend they are just a couple?

(BAU Headcanons) Making out Undercover

A/N: Mwahaha. Oh, this is a good prompt. Thanks for making me daydream all afternoon. Enjoy my lovelies 😉 Also, as a note, I'm writing the main BAU where I'm at watching it (season 13) plus Luke as he was requested previously 💕

Warnings: Mentions of threat, mentions of weapons, alcohol references, sexual references, implied cases / unsubs. (Let me know if I missed any)

Aaron Hotchner

We know Aaron doesn’t go undercover for most cases, so this would have to be a big case to get him into the field. 

This man would be in shock. Let’s be real. He would freeze in place and try to argue for a split second until he realises what you’re trying to do and why - even if you were already together. 

As soon as they’re gone though, you’d glance up and see his usual steely glare that tells you you’re in for a scolding once this is over. 

However, you’d have to be blind to miss the way he lingers for a moment, holding you close for half a second longer than necessary. 

“I feel I should remind you that we are in the field, and whilst it may have worked, I can’t endorse it as a tactic in future. Understood?” 

“So I’m hearing that we’re leaving this off of our case report then?” 

“Agreed. I don’t need to give Strauss anything else to use to go after us and the team.”

He would roll his eyes and take off after the Unsub, but you’d have to be blind to miss the way he smirks as he goes. 

David Rossi 

He’d be a little embarrassed but mostly quite smug about the whole thing, even if you were supposed to be undercover. 

“Well, I can safely say in all my years in this field I don’t think that’s ever happened to me before.” 

He’d also refuse to let you apologise for your actions afterwards either. 

One, because he’s kind of flattered. 

Two, because he’s been around the block a few times and knows that sometimes you have to do what it takes to solve a case or protect yourselves. 

Three, you were supposed to be a couple and kissing is what couples do. He’s only sour because if anything he would have liked to be the one who kissed you. 

“Relax about it, would you? I won’t tell you some of the things Gideon and I had to do back in the old days. That was before all this new paperwork and guidelines, so that’s all I’ll say on the matter.” 

You make a point of remembering to ask him about that at your next night off over drinks. 

Derek Morgan

Derek is always up for anything so I feel like he’d be pretty relaxed about being undercover with you, even if you weren't together romantically. He has no issue playing your pretend boyfriend for one night, and is quick to wrap his arm around you. 

Which is why it would be such a surprise to him when it’s you who initiated the kiss. 

Derek would freeze for like a second, but only out of shock. However, you know he wouldn’t fight you on it. 

The second his brain catches up to his body he would be kissing you back, doing everything in his power to match your energy and sell this kiss. 

If anything, you’re going to have to be the one to break away once the coast is clear and remind him you’re still technically in the field and that your team is probably wondering where the hell you are right now - and why you stopped responding to your comms. 

“I’m just saying, if we get to do that then we need to be partnered up more often.” 

“Yeah yeah, Morgan. Let’s just hope Penelope didn’t see that else we’ll never be hearing the end of it.” 

Emily Prentiss

She’s been undercover plenty of times in her life and spent a whole chunk of time actually fake-married to Doyle for an op, so she’d be the most comfortable and understanding if you grabbed her for a kiss - especially if you were meant to be a fake couple. 

She’d work it out pretty quickly and would respond in kind, pressing herself against you and running her hands all over you. 

“Quick thinking with the kiss,” she’d whisper as she brushed a kiss against your neck. 

She’d also know exactly where the Unsub is afterwards too, having kept watch in her peripheral vision. 

She wouldn’t even have to break eye contact with you before she informed you, “3 o’clock. He just left out the fire exit.” 

With that, she’d be off. 

She also probably wouldn’t even bring it up again until you’re both back on the jet. Then she’d be smirking at you across the top of her drink and chuckling to herself. 

“Normally I’d insist dinner first but given that we caught that bastard I think we’re even.” 

JJ

JJ knows about going undercover and it takes a lot to rattle her. She would probably go along with the action, even if she’d stay kind of stiff for a good minute or so. 

However, she’s a good agent and knows about maintaining a cover so quickly catches on when you pull her in. 

She’d return the kiss, shooting glances out the corner of her eye when she thinks it might be safe to check on their target. If it doesn’t look like they’re buying it, she’ll turn things up a notch and spin you around so that she could take control. 

“My gun is under my jacket. Reach for it slowly if he comes any closer,” she’d warn, but thankfully you don’t need it. Eventually they leave, distracted by something else, leaving you and JJ to recover.

After catching your breath, you both take off in the direction your target just left in. You can tell JJ is trying not to laugh about what just happened, choosing to make it funny rather than uncomfortable if you weren't together romantically.  

Which means you know she’d enjoy teasing you about it in front of the others, making your cheeks burn as she announces on the jet: “For the record, even though it was a ‘cover kiss’ it was pretty good. Just saying. Maybe you should give Morgan some tips. That way he might get a girl to call him back after a first date.” 

Luke Alvez

It doesn’t matter if he’s ex-army or whatever. Undercover is not really Luke’s thing and even then, he is more used to infiltrating gangs than playing house. 

Basically, he would be surprised by your actions, despite being undercover together. Like, I can see his eyebrows hitting his hairline so fast, bless him. He’d look like a deer in headlights. 

“Woah, sweetheart, slow your roll-“ 

“- Luke. Shut up and kiss me. Now.” 

“I - ok.” 

Just like that, he’d take control, turning and pressing you against the nearest wall in an attempt to shield you from whoever was watching. He’d also be such a gentleman about it if you weren't already together romantically, keeping his hands on your waist and pulling away the minute he’s sure the danger has passed. 

Even then, he’d wait a minute before letting the two of you move from your position, just in case they come back. He’s your partner and he’s returning the favour for you keeping him safe, even if in an unsuspected manner.

“You good?”

“Luke. Shouldn’t I be asking you that? I was the one who planted myself on you.” 

“Potato, po-tah-to. Are they still over there?”

“No. They just left out the back.”

“Then let’s go, partner. Let’s catch this freak.” 

Penelope Garcia 

If Penelope is in the field then you know she is already hella nervous and out of her element. It doesn’t matter if there was a reason she was needed for this particular assignment, she would just take that as added pressure not to let everyone down.

Which is why I’m sure you’d feel worse about planting one on her - even if it does also help distract her from worrying for a minute.  

All I can imagine is her giving her trademark squeal of confusion and surprise, even if you gave her a hasty warning - and apology - about what you were going to do.

She’d be stunned at what was happening and probably takes a minute to realise she should probably try and kiss you back, or at least look less visibly startled about it. 

“I feel I should point out how unfair it is that this is permitted as ‘suitable workplace behaviour’ as we’re undercover, yet my flirtatious texts with Agent Morgan are not? I will be writing a strongly worded email when we get back, telling HR they can go shove their-”

“Pen? Hey, focus here. Unsub still watching us.” 

“Oh, right. Sorry! Ahem… as you were?”  

Also, you know that like a day or so later, once it’s all over, she sends you an email informing you that your new username on the BAU system is now ‘smoochykins’ and she will not change it until it becomes not-funny for her… which will probably be never. After all, Morgan has been ‘Chocolate Thunder’ for the last two years and is still going strong.  

Dr Spencer Reid

Spencer has been undercover before and is usually quite calm about it, even if it is faking a date or maintaining a story. Still, despite having to do your jobs, you’d hate to make him uncomfortable, knowing how he feels about any kind of physical contact - especially if you're not together. 

As he says, with the amount of bacteria shared by shaking hands you’d be safer kissing … guess it was time to take it literally. 

He’d be blushing like a tomato as you grab his jacket lapels and pull him close. And honestly? it’s kind of adorable. As is the way he tries to kiss you back, even if he still takes a minute to remember how to even move his body. 

I’m just picturing the Lila kiss in season one and how he eased into that and how stunned / embarrassed he seemed afterwards. He would pretty much be like that, but with a fake smile on his face as he rambled in your ear. 

“What was that?”

“I was covering our asses. We’re undercover, remember? We’re supposed to be a couple and couples kiss. Also, I’d thought you know, genius, that kissing and displays of public affection make people extremely uncomfortable.”

“No kidding… Morgan can never find out about this.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice. You got a deal, pretty boy. This is between us.” 

Masterlist

[tsvwords]

I know you think I’m being ungrateful. The problem is…I really do hate you. That’s it. I don’t have any other way of saying it.

And for a very long time it’s been the embers of hate - the long tail of it, the exhaustion and the acceptance.

I know who you are. I’ve come to accept it. You’ve had more than long enough to persuade me you were capable of being anything else, and you’ve let me down at every turn.

And I guess…I just can’t stand the faint possibility that you’re suddenly turning over a new leaf in helping us now. Because if that’s true, then we’re going to have to paper over what a fucking terrible father you’ve been all these years, and all of the pain you’ve caused me, that needs to be forgiven and forgotten, right? And then we can both move on.

I just need to get over it, and say thank you. And I really don’t think I can do that, because I can’t stand the possibility that you’ve decided to be a better person just as soon as another witness has come along.

I can see Hayward giving me these sideways glances, and I know that to him…I must look crazy for hating you so much. For refusing to see anything decent in you.

And if you are sincerely trying to help us, if you’re not working any kind of angles…then you must have it in your head that if you help us now, if you prove yourself to me, you’ll be able to step away from all the horrible shit you’ve done, and there can be some kind of reconciliation between us, but…no.

It’s just another abandonment, Dad.

— Chapter 26: My Song, My Sorrow and I.