#anyway her name's bile if you had missed that

[pinknightsinmymind]

【 stained - ellie williams | NSFW 】

santa barbara!ellie williams x fem!reader | NSFW MDNI

wc: 2.9k

warning: NSFW MDNI

content: ex!ellie, ex!reader, blood kink, degradation, praise, dom!ellie, sub!reader, hair pulling, spit kink, no plot just straight smut, clittoral stimulation (r!receiving), fingering (r!receiving), quickie, kinda rough sex, outdoor/public sex (kinda), kinda toxic, use of pet names (baby, love, etc.)

a/n: a little nervous to post this but i hope you guys enjoy it! this was supposed to be a short lil smut but then it grew into something more and i just loved where it went and went a little overboard with writing lol. anyways, merry christmas and happy new years!!!

Venturing to Santa Barbara with Ellie had been a choice. That was the only way to describe your decision to travel with her on what seemed to be a suicide mission. Did you entirely agree with her motives? No, but you weren’t going to turn down a friend in need, especially one you didn’t want to leave alone. You believed she needed someone to go with her, so you’d be that someone if you had to.

You weren’t stupid. You knew Ellie had ended things with Dina before going on this mission, and that was the only reason she asked you to go with her. You agreed despite the parts of your brain that screamed at you. Going on a mission with your ex? How stupid were you? Yet, despite the warning bells in your head, you couldn’t let her go on this mission alone to never return. You wanted to make sure she was okay. At least, that’s what you told yourself. You knew deep down inside you still loved her, but you’d lie to yourself if you needed to. You’d say you did this out of concern and not out of stubborn, unending love.

It had started small, just like it did the first time. Brief touches, stares that lingered a little too long, sleeping too close for friends next to each other at night. That was exactly how it began when you dated her the first time. Slow, sweet, and innocent, but journeying on a mission to kill a woman isn’t exactly innocent, is it? Yet, when you looked at Ellie, you could forget that’s why the two of you were here in the first place. You saw her smile, her colorful eyes, and it was as if you were back in Jackson when the first glimmers of love appeared with her. It was like the first time all over again, like nothing had ever gone sour, but that was far from the truth. Your relationship with her had fallen apart after Joel’s death, and you hadn’t spoken to her for some time after until you journeyed with her to Seattle.

You’d be lying if you said her relationship with Dina hadn’t bothered you. It did. She had tossed you aside in her grief only to begin dating another girl without another word. Seeing them smiling and laughing together, the way they maneuvered each other with grace, their soft intimacy—the way you had once been with her. It made your stomach feel on fire and like it was full of bile. To know they were in love, that they were fucking? The anger and jealousy inside you was insurmountable. Then they had a kid together. Fucking great. But now here she was, back at your side like none of it ever happened. Were you being stupid? Maybe. But loving Ellie was like being stained in the way a canvas is. It’s not a dirty stain, but a beautiful one. Everything about Ellie—and what loving her entailed—was like being painted by her. Love for her was permanent and couldn’t be wiped away. So that’s why when she came to you, asking you to travel with her to Santa Barbara, you said yes.

When the two of you had sex again for the first time since breaking up, it was as if you could forget everything. Ellie was addicting, and with just the right touch, the right look, you could forgive her for anything. When she kissed you and told you how much she missed you, how sorry she was, you believed her and pulled her into your body. You told her how much you had missed her, how much you needed her, and it was like the two of you never split up in the first place. You welcomed her touch into your body like she was meant for you, and in that way you could forget she ever wronged you.

Since then sex with Ellie became a regular thing again, but you had to admit there was something different about her now. While before she liked to take her time with you and loved slow, sweet sex, now she was much more temperamental. It was like ever since she came to Santa Barbara there had been a change in her. The first time you had sex with her it was sweet and full of yearning, but every time after that was rougher and full of lust. She was more unhinged, feral—totally unlike the sweet girl who once romanced you and made you feel like you were walking on heaven. You still felt like heaven at her side, but it was as if a sort of darkness pervaded the clouds. A storm was approaching, but you were doing your best to deny it.

And now here you were, a town away from Santa Barbara, and you knew Ellie’s mind was slowly unraveling. What could you do? You were by her side, you did your best to be there for her, but that doesn’t bridge the gap when she doesn’t reach out. You had run into a building full of Infected, and the two of you were currently in the process of clearing it. You two split the work, with you clearing the lower floor while Ellie took care of the upper one. She had come to this building because of a lead that seemed to be a bust after all. They said this old office building had once been a base for Fireflies, but you both found that it was completely abandoned.

You had finally cleared the area when you ran to the upper floor Ellie was at. You needed to make sure she was okay and give her backup if she needed it. When you finally pushed through the doors and found Ellie, you were taken aback. She entered from whatever back room she had been in into the destroyed meeting area with desks and a conference table. She held a busted pipe in her hands as she entered from whatever bloody scene of Infected she left behind her. She was breathing heavily as she attempted to catch her breath. Her shoulders moved rapidly, her body shaking as she came down from the adrenaline.

“Ellie? You okay?” you asked. Her eyes moved to look up at you, and that’s when you saw the bewildered look on her face. Dried blood covered her face, arms, neck, clothes, everything. After the scene downstairs, you were sure you probably looked the same, but her eyes looked wild. It’s not that she scared you—she never could—but you felt a fire light up in your stomach and between your legs. You heard her huff out a ragged breath. You knew it was strange, and that maybe you shouldn’t feel this way, but you just felt so attracted to her at this moment. Seeing her like this was always so seductive.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she rasped out. You walked towards her in order to get a better look at her and assess her damage. “Are you okay?” she asked. She was breathing heavily, and you couldn’t help but think of all the times you’ve heard her grunting and breathing like that while deep inside you. The blood scattered all over her face… It made the throbbing in your pants even worse.

“I’ve never realized how good you look covered in blood,” you said quietly. The blood covered her body the way she had stained you. She was pervasive, ever-lasting, forever. Blood can be washed away, but it’s always there under your skin, isn’t it? Just like Ellie. She’d forever be a part of you whether you wanted her to be or not. You couldn’t help falling for her charms. Not when she was so beautiful and so enthralling. There was surprise written across her face at your words. She had never expected words like those to leave your mouth, but she wasn’t going to complain. Instead, you could see a dark look overtake her eyes.

“You like this?” she asked, taking a step closer. Her body was practically covering yours now. You nodded.

“I don’t know. Just something about it.”

“This is what’s got my girl all worked up?” she teased. Her girl. Nothing felt better than being wanted by Ellie and belonging to her. “You’ve seen me covered in blood hundreds of times. What makes this so different?” The truth is it’s because she’s different. You both are. There’s something dark lurking in Ellie, but it just makes her all that more delicious to love. It makes you love to love her more. What does that say about you?

“Just the way it looks on you.” It’s a physical reminder of how dark things have become. Ellie is quite literally on a mission to kill someone, and here you are accompanying her. Neither of you are on any type of moral high ground.

“Really, baby?” She was toying with you like nothing, and you knew she’d keep doing it unless you told her what you wanted.

“Just kiss me,” you whispered. You wanted to be consumed by her the way she was with revenge. You wanted to be all she thought about, all she breathed for. It’s only fair; that’s how you love her.

“You want a kiss?” She smiled and shook her head while looking at you in awe. “God, you’re so dirty.” Ellie dropped the pipe from her hands, the clank! sound echoing throughout the room. She grabbed you by your face roughly, pulling you into her until you were practically crashing into each other. It was such a hungry kiss, her lips attacking yours and her teeth sometimes knocking into yours. The blood on her face rubbed onto yours, the blood covering both of you mixing together. This was dangerous, seeing as the two of you had barely cleared this area, but neither of you cared. You trusted Ellie to protect you, and the risk just made it that much more exciting, didn’t it?

You had no time to think about the implications further, because you never could think when you started to feel Ellie’s touch. She walked forward until she had you backed up against the conference table, never once stopping as she kissed you. You could feel her hands venturing down further, teasing you through your jeans. She wanted to make you wait, to make you desperate for her as she continued to kiss you. But you were already so desperate for her, so hopelessly in love. Her hands ghosted across your lower abdomen until they gingerly grazed your zipper. Small moans left your mouth at the feeling of her slowly making small circles on your clit through the fabric. She undid the button quickly, but she was slow and teasing as she pulled down your zipper. You could feel her tongue swiping across your lips, and you opened your mouth for her to let her tongue swipe against yours.

You could feel her hand snaking its way into your pants. You fully expected her to give you what you needed, but, of course, she had to be a tease. Ellie wasn’t always so generous. Without another word she pulled away from the kiss, turning you around and roughly bending you over the table. You let out a small yelp from the impact, but it felt so good to have her handle you like that. You could feel her pressing into you from behind, her hands wandering over your ass and all the way up to your shoulders. She let out a shaky breath as she admired your shape. She leaned down and lined kisses along your shoulders and up your neck.

“Ellie,” you whimpered.

“What?” she asked. “What do you want, baby?”

“You,” you said desperately. “I need you.” You let out a moan as you felt her start to suck on your neck. Ellie had always been the possessive type who felt the need to mark what was hers. She had been like that the first time you dated, and she still was now. It felt good to be marked by her and to be claimed as hers. You craved it even more now than you had before. You wanted to always be hers.

“You need me?” she asked. Her hands were finally moving just where you needed them. She pushed your panties to the side, and you couldn’t help the small gasp you let out from her touch. “God, you’re so wet,” she breathed. “All because you saw me covered in blood? Just how much of a dirty whore are you?”

“Yes!” you moan, feeling her fingers finally rub against your clit. She always gave you exactly what you needed. She knew your body so well.

“I don’t think I’ve ever met a slut as good as you,” she whispered into your ear. “Taking what I give you, getting wet after seeing me like this. I didn’t think you’d be into something like that.”

“Feels so good,” you tell her. You don’t think she’s ever had you bent over like this before, and it almost made you regret not doing so sooner. Feeling her on top of your bent over body while sucking on your neck and whispering in your ear was so addictive. It just made the heat of your rising climax grow more and more like a flame. A moan left your lips with every move of her fingers.

“I want you to cum all over my fingers, you got that?” You couldn’t speak, only whines leaving your mouth, but that wasn’t enough for Ellie. You felt her tug your hair and pull your body up from the table, now eye-level with her. She stopped the movement of her hands altogether, which was disappointing considering how close you were. “Answer me,” she ordered.

“Yes. I’ll—I’ll do it.” She smiled at your words.

“Good.” She may have let go of your hair, but she grabbed onto your chin next. “Open your mouth.” You did as she said, watching as she pursed her lips together and spit into your mouth. You closed your lips and swallowed just like she wanted. “Good girl. What do you say?”

“Fuck,” you cursed, feeling her fingers massage your clit once more. “Thank you.” Ellie let go of your chin and pressed you back down onto the table. Instead of continuing her previous attention on your clit, she decided to grant that attention elsewhere. You felt them caress the shape of your ass before pulling down your jeans and panties. She slipped a finger into your hole, thrusting slowly to see how ready you were. After feeling you were wet enough, she added another. A moan exited your mouth at the feeling of her thrusting into you over and over again. She still remembered all the spots that drove you crazy. She was relentless. She would probably make you cum again and again if it weren’t for the fact you two weren’t safe at your temporary camp. “Oh, God, I’m close.” There was nobody’s touch you loved and desired more than Ellie’s. She was the only one you wanted, the only one you needed.

“I can tell. Do I make you feel that good?”

“Yes. Only you.”

“That’s right,” she said, planting a kiss on your pulse. “Only I can fuck you like this. You know that, right? That I’m the only one who can touch you like this?” You didn’t respond, and although you expected her to pull your hair again, she didn’t. “You were made just for me. Only me.” You supposed your moans were a good enough answer for her. You felt it building. You were so close to your peak, and with just a few more motions from Ellie and you’d come.

“Talk me through it,” you managed to choke out between moans. You needed to hear her voice: her praises, her degradation, everything.

She let out a sigh as her hand moved from your back to grope your breasts. She massaged them while placing more kisses on your neck. “You’re gonna cum all over my fingers. Just like you always do. Just like I’ve asked you, because you’re a good girl who always does as I say. Right, baby? Come on. Be good for me.” You loved the feeling of her hands on you, her beautiful voice, her body on yours, her breath on your neck. It was all too much, and you could feel yourself finally hitting your peak.

“I’m coming,” you announced to her. You felt the climax wash over you slowly, then all at once, until it eventually died down. You felt the exhaustion come down on your body after that. You took in deep breaths in an attempt to calm yourself.

“That’s it. You’re all over me now.” Ellie pulled her fingers out of you, then helped pull your clothes back up on your body. She picked you up from the table, zipping and buttoning your jeans for you. Once she fixed your clothes she pulled you into another kiss. “All this because you saw me covered in blood?” she teased.

“What can I say? It just looked good on you,” you answered.

“You sure seem to think so.” You stared into her eyes, and although you knew you were both different, it was still worth it to see that glimmer of who she once was in them. She was both the woman you used to love, and the one you loved currently, in one. You didn’t know who either of you were after this mission, but at least you’d travel and find out together.

#tlou #tlou2 #ellie williams #ellie the last of us #tlou ellie #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #tlou x reader

[howlingday]

Soo if jaune is the only one who pass.. Who gonna be his team? team cfvy? cinder team? Or his gonna be like qrow like a solo hunter

Previous

Short summary of my answer; I haven't really decided on an answer to this question at the time of writing this. For now, I'm thinking he's simply attending Beacon alone without anyone on his team until the next semester when a new team arrives, perhaps. OC team, maybe?

And to answer the suggestions; CFVY is a team of third years and it would be really awkward to just add a first year into their already established dynamic, although it would be very fitting considering the current canon. Cinder has yet to really do anything in Vale, let alone start infiltrating with Emerald, Mercury, and Neo under the disguise as Haven students for the Vytal tournament. Qrow is a solo huntsman after already graduating with Team STRQ, which tells me that having a team is required to graduate.

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

Jaune's siren wailed at him as he groaned, raising his tired limb and reaching for his scroll. Shutting it off, he blinked, feeling the stinging pain in his eyes. Sleep, once again, continued to be a privilege he hadn't yet earned, or at least not at night, anyways. Giving another groan, he pushed himself from his bed, ready to attempt another day.

The nightmares continued to haunt him, even after a week of his "passing" of initiation. He gagged on his toothbrush thinking about it, throwing up in the sink. With a weak groan, he turned on the faucet and washed away most of the bile. He'd get the rest later, if he had the energy for it. For now, he had to finish getting ready.

Looking to the time, he'd have to miss breakfast. Again. He couldn't remember the last time he had breakfast before initiation. He closed his eyes to try and remember but could only sway and nearly fall over after overcoming the pain in his eyes. Pulling on his uniform, he made his way down to class.

"Good morning, Jaune." The girl greeted as she passed him. He groaned like a zombie in return. He never caught her name, but he recognized her by her large rabbit ears on her head. She'd tried starting a conversation with him, but he was either too tired or she was too busy with her team to take it further than small talk. Still, it was nice to be greeted every morning by a friendly face.

"Mr. Arc, so glad of you to finally join us." Grumbled Professor Port.

"Huh?" Jaune looked to his watch. Crap, he was late. Class was almost over.

"I will see you after class, Mr. Arc. And don't worry, I've already informed Professor Oobleck, and the headmaster."

Jaune moaned as he slid into his seat. He was about to get another earful of 'no free rides at Beacon Academy' from the large, red huntsman. He blinked once, then twice, then was woken up by a thunderous roar of a weapon being fired.

"What the hell is the matter with you?!" A woman shouted.

"What? Shouting didn't work!" A fat hand waved into Jaune's direction. "And see? He woke up!"

"That is not the-!" The woman sighed. "Jaune Arc, you will return to your quarters and get some rest. You are excused from the rest of your classes for the day."

Jaune, however, couldn't hear her. He was too busy reliving the worst day of his life. Hearing everyone scream, the flash in the cave, the red-eyed nightmares that hunted him in the shadows. Suddenly, a face came into view. It was the face of woman with green eyes and glasses. He felt her cold hands touch his face, forcing her to look at him.

"Look at me." She calmly said. "Breathe with me, okay?" Deep breath in, deep breath out. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. "Do you know who I am?"

"Pruh... Professor Goodwitch." Things started to slow down around him.

"Yes. Yes, that's right. Do you know where you are?"

"I'm... I'm at Beacon." His heart slowed, too. "I'm at Beacon."

"Very good. Very good. Did you hear what I said?"

"I... No. No, ma'am."

"That's okay. I told you to return to your room and get some rest. Do you need help getting there?"

"No, I... I'll be fine." Jaune said, holding back the whole truth. He would be fine reaching his room, but what then? He didn't know.

The only thing he did know what that he was alive, and they were all dead.

#rwby #jaune arc #my answer #my answers #velvet scarlatina #glynda goodwitch #peter port #dark au

[cloudlessly-light]

I have a prompt for you where Emily gets kidnapped and when Aaron finds out he goes insane on trying to find her and when they find here he does not let her out of his sight

Title: Over all the noise   Summary: He couldn’t lose her. That’s the one thing that kept running through his mind. He couldn’t lose her, because if he did, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to go on. Word count: 3,1k Rating: Teen    Warnings: Canon typical Violence, mentions of blood and broken bones, injury, hospitals, case fic (kind of), hurt/comfort, Aaron Hotchner needs a hug

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

It’s the sound of drops of water landing in the puddle on cold concrete floor that makes her stir. When she opens her eyes it’s too dark to make out much of anything. She looks around in the dark room, the only light is a tiny sliver of light from where a window wasn’t boarded up all the way. But it must be nighttime, she thinks. Then she realizes that she can’t move, handcuffs around her wrists that are tied behind her back, the sound of a heavy metal chain scraping against the ground when she tries to move her feet.

Then it’s the pain, her head pounding, making her hiss slightly. She must have a concussion she thinks, nausea instant as she tries to sit up. Her head is pounding, everything hurts. When she sits up to lean against the concrete wall her entire body protests but she forced herself to sit up. She couldn’t remember anything, the last thing that she remembered clearly was Aaron, kissing her softly before urging her out of the police station with the rest of the team. But they weren’t here, nobody was. She was alone.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

What happened?

*

He’s frustrated, the team had been in Colorado for two days and were no closer to catching the man who beat his victims to death. The ME’s report doesn’t give them much but he rereads it anyways, hoping that somehow they’d missed a small detail. It was late, the team had been sent home, he was the only one still there but close to giving up for the night, wanting to get to the hotel and Emily.

It’s the sudden sound of JJ’s voice, loud and scared that makes him stand.

“Hotch!” He can only recall hearing JJ’s voice laced with that kind of panic at one other time. When Will was walking into a hostage situation. It was years ago, but he still remembered. He sees her, fear and anger radiating off her and then the familiar steps of the rest of the team following behind her makes his eyebrow knit together.

“Emily’s gone. He took her.”

And with those words, his world turned on its axis.

He had only felt like this one other time, the situations so different and yet similar. It was the same terror as when he had driven towards his house where he knew he would find Haley. At the time he knew he’d find her dead, but now, he had no idea if Emily was alive or not. He’s barking orders, but he can barely hear his own voice over the insistent pounding of his heartbeat, frantic and loud.

“Aaron.”

He hears his name but he doesn’t move.

“Aaron.” Dave grabs his shoulder and the feeling of his fingers digging into him makes him look at the other man. “We’re going to find her.”

He nodded, slowly and deliberately. He couldn’t panic, Emily needed him.

*

“Look who’s awake.”

Emily resists grunting at the sudden sound. She had managed to sit with her back against the wall, willing her head to stop pounding, tried in vain to get the dizziness to stop. She cracks an eye open and forces a smirk at the man she doesn’t know the name off yet, but she does know that if she was going to get out of this alive, she couldn’t show him any fear.

“You really messed up here.” She turns her head slowly to fully look at him. Tall, blonde, greasy hair, small beady eyes, a tattoo on his forearm, she tried to remember the details.

“And how is that?” He walked closer to her and she saw that he had a scar on his eyebrow. His breath smelled like tobacco. She swallowed down the bile that rose in her throat.

“They’ll find you.” Her voice is surprisingly steady, false confidence in every word even as she turns her head away.

“Oh you mean your team?” He grins when her head snaps back to look at him. “Oh yes, I know all about your team, Emily Prentiss.” His fingers grip her hair so tight that she yells out as he yanks her to her feet.

“What do you want?” Her teeth grit together, her whole body feeling too heavy to carry her weight but she refuses to give in even as her knees buckle.

“What I want?” He sounds genially surprised when he speaks this time, his fingers loosening just slightly in her hair. “No it’s not about what I want, it’s about what I need.”

“And what is that?” She hears the metal of the handcuffs rattle as she tries shuffling backwards, but it’s no use.

“Revenge.”

The last thing she remembers before passing out is the air being knocked out of her as his fist connected with her stomach.

*

It has only a couple of hours, but those hours feels like an eternity to Aaron. He forces thoughts of what might be happening to Emily aside, pushes forward even when it feels like he can’t move. The sound of the clock irritates him, the sound of papers rustling makes him grind his teeth. With each passing minute, he can feel agony rising, spreading through his veins.

It’s too loud in the precinct and he has to get away. So he ignores pointed looks and words of comfort and quickly excuses himself and heads to the bathroom where he splashes cold water on his face. After, he stares at his own reflection, but barely recognizes the man in front of him.

He couldn’t lose her. That’s the one thing that kept running through his mind. He couldn’t lose her, because if he did, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to go on. As he watches himself he hears Emily’s voice, reminding him of Jack.

“You can’t give up. Jack needs you.”

It’s words she’s said before, long ago just after Haley’s death when all he felt was grief and anger. That had been the start of them, somewhere in between misery and heartache she had been there, an unwavering support, his light in the darkness.

“Please be okay.” He whispers, eyes closing tight. He wasn’t even sure he believed in God, but in that moment he wanted to, wanted to believe in something bigger than himself. That someone was looking out for her.

He wipes the droplets of water off his face and goes back to the team, who all seemed to have stopped, the frantic pace now nonexistent.

“Garcia found something.” Derek is the first one to speak before he turns the laptop to show the blonde. Even with her colorful clothes, bow in her hair and sparkling glasses, she’s subdued, her worry for Emily impossible to hide.

“Before Emily’s phone went dead it sent a signal between two towers, and I managed to locate what seems to be an abandoned warehouse, it’s owned by someone named Evan Peters, and he was a part of the Separatarian Sect.”

“The one Benjamin Cyrus was the leader off.” JJ reminds him gently.

“Sir, I think he planned this, he must have remembered Emily from-”

“When she was beaten and held captive along with Reid.” He interrupts Penelope, tone harsh. “And now the same kind of people have her. Again.”

“We know where she is.” Dave reminds him.

It doesn’t make him feel any calmer.

*

Emily winces as she tries to get up. She wasn’t sure how long she had been there, but it must have been hours. Her face feels swollen, and when she licks over her bottom lip she tastes blood.

Her clothes are torn and bloody, she can feel it drying against her skin and it only makes her more nauseous. It’s hard to breathe, hard to focus on anything besides the pain and drawing enough air into her lungs. She refused to let him win, refused to give up. Because she knew Aaron wasn’t, her team wasn’t. So she would fight, for them, for Jack, for her life. She had given up once, she wasn’t going to do that again.

As she sits there, in between pained breaths, blurry memories of his fists and boots connecting with her body flashes through her mind.

“Can you take it?” He had asked and she thinks that he’s trying to taunt her. But then he mentions Cyrus, that he had promised revenge and she realizes that he’s throwing her own words back at her.

“Can you take it?” Another kick, and with her arms behind her back she can’t protect her middle like she wants to. But she even as she heaves for breath and cries out in pain she tries to fight him.

“I can take it.”

It’s the sound of raised voices and loud running that brings her back, followed by the sound of bullets. She wants to yell out for them but she finds that she can’t, only a gasping sound leaving her as she tries. But she can hear them, closer and closer and when the door is forced open and she sees Aaron, she knows it’ll be okay.

Aaron can barely see her in the dark, her body barely a shadow as she leans against the wall. His flashlight find her and he sees her clearly, pale and hurt but she smiles. It’s just a second though, before her eyes close and she slumps against the wall.

“Emily.” He rushes to her side but he’s afraid to touch her. “We need a medic!” He calls out just as JJ and Spencer come running in behind him.

“Is she okay?” Spencer asks as he stares wide eyed at Emily, no doubt trying to count any injuries that’s visible to him.

“She’s passed out I think.” With trembling fingers he pressed them against her pulse and when he feels it, he breathes a sigh of relief as tears he’s refused let fall cloud his eyes.

*

It’s the sound of beeping that wakes her up next and when she opens her eyes it’s bright, white walls and fluorescent lights that’s glowing too much in the room. The opposite of what she had been surrounded by for hours. She winces as her eyes adjust and then looks around slowly. He’s there, sitting on a chair that she’s sure is uncomfortable, his eyes trained on her.

“Hi.” He says softly, finally feeling like he could breathe again.

“Hey.” She croaks, her throat swollen as she speaks. “What happened?”

“It was one of Benjamin Cyrus followers.” He starts, his thumb gently caressing her hand that he hasn’t let go of since she got out of surgery, but she shakes her head.

“I know, he told me. I meant, what happened after?”

“You’ve got three broken ribs, and he ruptured your spleen and…” His voice trails off, anger and sadness reflected in his dark orbs.

“And?” She couldn’t remember much, only a few flashes and she didn’t like not knowing.

“He strangled you.” He could see the confusion on her face, wondering why she wasn’t dead. “You kicked him, right between his legs.” At that she smiles a little.

They don’t have much more time to talk before the doctor comes in, followed by the team. But she can’t stay awake for long, the pain medications making her drowsy. When she wakes up next it’s morning and the first thing she sees is Aaron, sitting in the exact same spot as he had been the night before.

“Did you stay here all night?” She asks even though she knows the answer. He looked exhausted, deep lines around his eyes and suit shirt wrinkled.

“Yeah.” He says, barely holding in a yawn. She was already looking better, the color back in her cheeks and he didn’t think he could be more grateful.

“Come here.” She carefully scoots to the side, groaning a little at the pain but refusing to stop until she’s made enough room for him.

“I don’t think-”

“I want you closer.” She interrupts him but when he still doesn’t move she sighs. “Please, I need you closer.”

In that moment he would give her anything she asked, so he carefully gets into the bed and lays down on his side. He’s gentle as traces her cheek with the tip of his finger, just to feel the heat of her skin.

“Sleep baby.” She urges him softly, the familiar feel of his body already calming her.

He tries to fight it, but in the end he falls asleep breathing in the scent of her, not waking up until a nurse comes in to check on Emily.

Three days later they’re finally home and Aaron hasn’t been able to relax. He didn’t want to leave her side, only doing so when Derek forced him to the hotel to shower and get a change of clothes, with the promise that he’d stay at the hospital until Aaron returned. Logically he knew that he couldn’t keep this up, that she needed time to process, that he did too. But all he could think about was that the last time he told her to leave without him, she almost died.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take the pain medication the doctor prescribed?” He asks for what might be the fifth time and Emily shook her head.

“I promise it’s not that bad.” She’s lying, they both know that she’s lying, but he doesn’t argue with her. Her stubbornness could drive him insane, but right now all he wanted was to take away any pain she had.

“Okay sweetheart.” He kisses her temple and then watches as she makes her way towards the couch. “Do you need anything?”

“No, I’m okay.” She turns her head enough to look at him. “You need to pick up Jack, I promise I’ll be okay.”

It takes him another 30 minutes of her urging him out the door before he finally leaves.

*

Emily wakes up feeling his eyes on her. It had been almost a week since they got home and as she slowly healed, she noticed just how hard it was for him. He watched her constantly, trying to be subtle but she could always feel his stare, had always been able to pick up on him. She knows that it’s because he was terrified, but feeling like she couldn’t get a moment alone was getting to her. She doesn’t blame him for being overly protective though, she knows she would have been the exact same, that she had been close to overbearing after Foyet’s attack on him and they weren’t even a couple back then.  

But she’s healing and as much as she understands why he doesn’t let her out of his sight, she knows they can’t go on like this. The final straw comes only a couple of days later. She wanted to go for a short walk, get out of the house and move around now when she finally could and Aaron immediately goes to get his jacket.

“I was actually thinking I could go alone.” She gives him a smile, one that he doesn’t return. Instead she sees dread seep across his face.

“I could use some fresh air.” He says and puts on his jacket, ignoring how she shakes her head.

“Aaron, please.” She pushes her hair out of her face, she didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but she needed some space. “It’ll be ten minutes.”

“It’s ten minutes of me not knowing if you’re okay.” He argues, anger that he knows he shouldn’t feel bubbling up inside of him.

“You can’t watch me every minute of ever day!” Her voice got louder, her tone only setting him off as unresolved feelings, feelings that had been forced away finally erupted.

“I let you go without me and someone took you! I could have lost you and it would have been my fault!” For the first time he shows her just how scared he had been, his voice cracking with the panic that still hadn’t completely gone away, his body vibrating with it.

For a moment she stills, any irritation gone as quickly as it had come and she slowly walks closer to him. She cups his stubbled cheek in her palm, her dark eyes gentle as she looks up at him.

“This wasn’t your fault.” She says but he only shakes his head at her words, eyes closed. “Aaron, look at me.” When he opens his eyes she holds his gaze. “This was not your fault, it wasn’t anyone’s fault besides his. And I need you to understand that.”

“But what if-”

“I had the entire team and he still got me. He had planned for this all along, with or without you. You have to listen to me, this wasn’t your fault.” She says the words again, slower this time and she can finally feel him relax the tiniest bit. “We can’t keep doing this, you can’t watch me all the time, can’t be here all the time. You know that.”

He sighs heavily, her words true and honest and so very Emily that his heart clenches in adoration for her.

“Okay.” He says after a few moments. “I know you’re right. I just, I thought I wouldn’t find you alive.”

“I’m here.” She presses a kiss to his lips and then pulls him down to lean his forehead against hers. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I don’t want to live without you.” He whispers it so quietly she almost doesn’t hear him.

“I don’t either.” She promises him and lets him pull her into his arms, his chest always a place where she finds comfort. He holds her with such tenderness, makes sure that he’s not holding her too tight or pressing against her ribs and she feels her whole body warm.

They stand like that for a long time, until it feels like the world starts to make sense again, as they let each other calm them. When they break apart Emily is smiling, some of the light that’s been gone back in her eyes.

“But I expect a real proposal, just letting you know.”

The words are so unexpected he bursts out laughing, the first laugh since her kidnapping. He pulls her back into his arms and breathes in her scent, still smiling.

“Deal.”

#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfiction #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hotch x emily #aaron x emily #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfiction #emily prentiss fanfiction

[saerintv]

hello ~ this is queued because i'll probably be asleep by the time the rp opens but didn't want to miss out on the fun! i'm adore ( she/her, 25+, cst ) and this is saerin, the legend skeleton and a spitfire that's just here so she won't get jailed fined. note that as harsh as i make her seem, she knows that she has to play nice in order to survive, especially with 105fm on them so! here is her profile page, but an easy breezy version of everything will be below. please like if you'd like to plot and i'll hit you up, discord is preferred and available upon request ♡

background ⏤ ( if this sounds messy forgive me, it's like 2am 😭 )

hwang saerin, 23, gymnast, the legend skeleton

comes from a wealthy family that has gymnastics in their blood, father is a former gymnastic olympian who was not able to medal and mother is a coach ( those who can't, coach, right? ) so as soon as she showed an inkling of an ability at tumbling their hopes and dreams were immediately pushed upon her

which for the most part was fine, because she didn't know any better

parents threw their wealth to get her the best everything, coaches / gyms, training, on call sports medicine doctors ⏤ you name it, she got it

and tbh it actually paid off! a natural ability plus hard work and money is an unbeatable combo it seems. she wasn't simone biles type of dominant but she had a grace and power that was unmatched, and wasn't afraid to push herself to the limit, and was able to rack up golds and medals wherever she went. quite literally poised to be the next big thing

she was known for her prowess but also for her attitude as well; got used to getting golds that when she didn't

enough so that she made her international senior debut at 17, then was recruited for the national team at 19. the 2020 olympics was supposed to be her debut. key word being supposed.

despite her immense talent, she always had doubts and somewhat of an imposter syndrome that she never talked about and pushed into the crevices; but the closer it got to the olympics the harder it got to push those thoughts away. it affected her enough that she started getting the twisties. and unfortunately, you can't throw money at this type of problem to make it go away.

the worse she performs, the worse her parents relationship gets ⏤ not that it was great to begin with, but anyway. one month before the olympics, she gets two bombs dropped upon her during a three way argument with her parents: her mom was having an affair with her current coach, and she was adopted. so you can imagine that her mental health went from bad to absolute shit at this point

she makes attempts to push through because the team is pretty much at tokyo at this point, but it's affecting her too much. before they could tell her that an alternate was going in her place because her bad performance was getting dangerous, she disappears from the olympic village two weeks before the opening ceremonies. doesn't tell anyone, just catches the next flight out of tokyo to ibiza. no plans, no thoughts, just vibes.

of course the team alerts her parents that she's gone and she does contact them, but saerin says she's done. no more gymnastics, too much shit has gone down for her to even get in the right mindset to compete anymore. eventually comes back to korea, and gets diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder which helps her situation ( it does not )

anyway her parents aren't completely heartless and do feel like shit, they do have a talk with her and let her be considering she's 20 and hasn't had a chance at a normal life.

but uh ... you can imagine how reckless a girl who hasn't had to face any consequences could be when the shackles are off her feet and the world is now her oyster lol. she lays low and spends more time traveling than anything and stays tf away from anything sports related. anyway one time a party with socialites got a little too rowdy and she had a little too much to drink which ended up with her getting into a scuffle and with a battery charge.

she expects her parents to get her out of it ( wouldn't be the first time ), but instead they tell her to go to jail or bring home a gold. she thinks about jail for two seconds but decides to put the shackles on once again when they tell her that all they ask is to bring home a gold and they won't ask her to do gymnastics ever again. a fair deal with that, she thinks.

she's 21 then, so it does take some time for her to get back into competing shape, but not as long as she originally thought it would. she's back on the national team in no time. physically, the time off has done her well. mentally? we'll see.

personality wise ⏤

aries sun, aries moon, capricorn rising. "you think i'm a bitch? well you're not that wrong."

she's not here to make friends, just here to do her damn routines, get a medal and fucking go

i feel like if you knew her prior to olympic debut she was less angry. kept to herself still but more starry eyed and pliant. now? since she's had the taste of freedom, to go back into the rigidity that is gymnastics is hard. not sure if she wants to get used to it.

openly confrontational. her dialogue is straightforward and blunt, one of those people who thinks "being real" is above everything. "i said what i said" vibes.

ambitious, but also impulsive and reckless. spoiled and independent? self absorbed. you get the point.

but like i said before she knows she can't come in guns blazing and fuck the world, so she is playing nice to be a part of the team. if you're not a threat, then she can seem aloof. if you are, then she's passive aggressive.

this is all a shield for her anxiety. when it gets bad she lashes out.

but she's not all bad, i promise! if you're able to befriend her then you've got a bull in your corner. she'll fight your battles for you. tbh show her any ounce of love and she'll grab on the point that she stifles it. in her own way?

phew! almost done i promise! onto some plots off the top of my head ⏤

enemies / rivals ⏤ while yeah there's the legacy, i imagine with her personality she's got a lot of people that's not in her corner, and i think it would be fun to play out!

biological siblings ⏤ i mentioned in the bio that she found out she's adopted, but i forgot to mention that she did find her biological family during her 2 years away from gymnastics. it'd be super interesting if her sibling was on the national team too! obviously more plotting needed as this can go several ways.

ride or die ⏤ she's in need of at least one ( 1 ) good friend. someone she'd fight for, y'know? would be even more interesting ( but not required ) if they were opposite in personality too. opposites attract!

sneaky link or toxic rls ⏤ idk, on and off rls, friends w benefits, or something of the sort. girl is high strung and is need of a release that's legal and won't wreck her body. or it could, wink wink. she's bisexual, by the way!

and that's all i can think of, i do much better brainstorming really!

#001: ( out of character ) #* her hair is red but no gifs of that rn :( #gtvintro

[cassieuncaged]

Wild Inhibitions - Chapter 1

Astarion Ancunín x Ilwyn Crowdancer

Summary: She was young, still learning to control her wild magic when Ilwyn was abducted by the mind flayers. Little did she know that revenge for her mother's death was imminent as well as an ill timed infatuation with a vampire.

TW: canon typical violence, non explicit sexuality, language, etc.

WC: 3.3 K

Taglist: @confidentandgood, @galaxycunt, @euryalex, @inafieldofdaisies, @neonneurons, @roofgeese

Stroking her scar idly, Ilwyn’s eyes fluttered closed. Salty sea air whipped copper locks into a ruddy face as eyes focused on a distant Island. Perhaps it was Gwynneth, settled in the blue depths of the Sea of Swords.

Fish mongers pulled in a net of catfish, flopping on the dock as the smell polluted the air. One of the men nodded at the young woman who waved. It had become a routine, settling by the water when practicing spells became overwhelming. No longer a child forbidden to wander the lower city, she allowed herself such a reprieve from time to time.

Hugging her knees to her chest, the elf enjoyed the sun beating down on a sharp nose. Slowly stretching onto booted feet, she climbed the steps back to the cobblestone pathway. Buildings sprawled upwards as strangers hung their laundry across a network of wires others enjoying the fresh air upon wrought iron balconies.

A content smile stretched across Ilwyn’s face as she wandered towards Sorcerous Sundries. Maybe she’d purchase a new book spell book, enjoying her day of freedom in the city. It’s then that everything begins to erupt around her. A foreign object floated in the sky, ink black and curved like that of a nautilus. A bell chimed from the wall, the fists alerting the city of an intrusion though it was far too late. A wave of panic swept the city as citizens began to scramble, pushing past the woman as forlorn shrieks echoed down the cobblestones.

Ilwyn watched in a stunned silence as a tentacle expanded from the ship, wrapping around the tower before tightening around it like a clenching fist. Then it lowered, tentacles sweeping down the alleyways. Frozen with fear, she watched as the arms slinked closer, colliding with a helpless vagrant before she disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

And another and another…

Until the fleshy appendage suctioned at her own shoulder. A surge of pain shot through the length of her body as it disintegrated only to regain consciousness in a glass pod.

……

“Have you ever done this before?” the young man shifted nervously beneath a dark gaze, watching as the pale elf took a sip from a silver goblet.

“Oh, yes,” Astarion sighed, knowing how easily his new mark could be lured. It was almost too easy as he steeled himself for what happened next. “Many, many times. I’d be happy to show you.”

“I’d enjoy that very much,” he nodded, pursing lush lips as a blush rose up his cheeks. In an instant, the spawn was on his feet, avoiding the sun filtering in from the balcony. Unclasping the front of an intricate doublet, he approached the nobleman on long legs before settling beside him on the tufted chaise.

Seduce and destroy.

It was his mantra, to help him fight through the pangs of guilt that pulled at a dwindling conscience, to work through the bile that crawled up his throat in thick fingers. Bejeweled fingers pushed past a curtain of chestnut locks, as he found his way to an exposed throat. A steady pulse thrummed beneath tawny skin, as Astarion inhaled a deep cologne that smelt of leather and amber.

“You’re absolutely delicious,” clicking his tongue a few times, he is quick to lave the man’s throat hungrily as he works his way through predictable motions. Anyway to feign enjoyment, however passionless he truly was.

“Astarion,” his name sounds like a lyric, beautiful upon the lips of the doomed. It’s then that he pauses, considering what he’s doing in a sprawling estate. Surely, this mark will be missed, pitchforks and stakes at the ready when he inevitably enters the Szarr manor and never returns. “Are you alright?”

“Hmm? Oh, yes.” He’s torn away from a troubled stupor blinking wine red eyes before straightening his back. “I was only wondering if there’s a place we can get more comfortable.”

Blinking hard, the man nods before pointed ears tingle. There’s a rupturing crash in the distance, emanating from the open balcony. The lower city.

“What in the hells?” the vampire mutters beneath his breath, brows rising with piqued interest as a sudden darkness envelopes them like an eclipse. The nobleman rises first, clambering to the doors of the mezzanine. He disappears for a long time before releasing a blood curdling scream.

Then, nothing.

Astarion gulps dryly, wondering what fate could possibly be awaiting him other than being burnt to a crisp in the sunlight. Stepping to the archway, his eyes grow impossibly wide as a enormous tentacle reaches towards him from the sky before the world turns black.

……

Coming alive with a wet cough, fingers dug into pliable grains of sand, attempting to grasp onto solid ground. Bless Silvanus, she’d survived the Nautiloid’s graceless crash into lands unknown. How such a feat had happened was beyond the elf’s limited understanding as she crawled upon wobbling legs. Shaking hands smoothed down maroon robes, feeling for blood or gashes.

Nothing.

By the gods, Ilwyn should’ve been dead.

Bleary eyes blinked, taking in the surroundings. The downed ship’s fleshy tentacles stretched across the tattered beach, dipping into the lapping tides of the surrounding sea. Searching for anything familiar, the woman carefully treaded across uneven terrain. Magic prickled in shaking fingertips, ready to strike if ambushed.

Bodies littered the beach, battered and bloody as the search for survivors began the ship’s wreckage burned, crackling flames mingled with the unmistakable chitter of intellect devourers in the distance. Pressing forward, Ilwyn’s head throbbed. She doubted she’d ever get used to the tadpole wriggling behind her eye, the maggot burrowing deeper into her brain.

But the thought was immediately interrupted when she recognized a familiar figure stretched across the ground, face down.

Shadowheart.

Rushing to the woman’s aid, she slid to her knees in rough granules. Her skin was pallid, dark hair mussed from the fall yet her chest rose beneath plated armor. She was still alive though a strange object was clasped tightly between her fingers. Dark and multifaceted, Ilwyn was tempted to grab it before shaking her awake. Instead, freckled fingers clasped onto slender shoulders, attempting to rouse her.

Dark eyes slowly opened, blinking away the searing sun as the red head swam into view. Shadowheart hurried to hide the artefact in her palm before carefully unfolding her battered self. Soaking in foreign surroundings it was clear that she hadn’t any idea where she was either.

“Thanks,” she sputtered out, taking a steadying breath.

“What for?” Ilwyn cocked her head, hair wild from the crash. Her body ached as she supposed her skin was swelling with fresh bruises.

“You could’ve left me in that pod. Left me to die.” she swallowed hard, clearly unused to sharing her emotions. Unused to needing someone. The sorceress could relate to that plight, having depended on herself since she was only a child. “You didn’t. I’m grateful.”

“You’re welcome.” Offering a timid grin, Ilwyn began to look around for the other woman they’d found on the ship. “Where’s our other friend?”

“The githyanki?” Shadowheart squinted in the sunlight, trying to see if she recognized any bodies among the rubble. “Not much of a friend. It appears she’s run off. I don’t know about you, but I think we should stick together. Hells only knows where we are. We could watch each other’s backs.”

Ilwyn thought about the offer, wondering if she was able to extend the little trust she harbored to a stranger. Under any other circumstances, refusal would be imminent. She traveled better alone, though that was through the lower city to rifle through shops specializing in arcane magic. Now in the unknown, it seemed wise to work in tandem.

“Well?” Shadowheart questioned, impatience apparent in her clipped tone.

“You in a hurry?” Ilwyn shot back lazily, annoyed to be pulled from her thoughts.

“I’d rather get a move on so we can get out of here.” She looked around anxiously, scanning for unseen prey. “The longer we stay still, the more likely something will prepare to strike.”

“Fine.” Ilwyn agreed, plucking her quarterstaff from her back. “Let’s go.”

……

The sun beat down on exposed pale skin, a sensation he’d hadn’t felt in more than two centuries. Astarion stood on the cliff, enjoying the warmth that had become all but a fable to him. He should be burnt to cinders, a charred corpse festering on the ground.

Yet that hadn’t happened. Whatever tinkering had been done to him on that monstrosity was likely the cause. That parasite that had bared its razor-sharp teeth and slid behind his eyeball, wriggling like a snake. But it seemed that the mind flayers instrument had at least one benefit, however high the cost may be. Had his reflection been restored? Sanguine hunger finally depleted?

Many questions raced through his mind when voices rang out in the distance, echoing in the wreckage of the Nautiloid. Regressing to predatorial tendencies, the vampire crouched behind thorny foliage as two women approached. Bloody and breathing heavily, he’d assumed they had slaughtered an impending threat. Both elves based on long pointed ears pushing through their hair. One was taller, looking rather dangerous in Sharron cleric’s robes and armor.

However, it was the other that truly garnered his attention. Shorter and far more frail, rosy cheeks were heavily freckled, short hair as bright as an untamed flame. Her maroon robes were those of a sorcerer, a far more studious soul he figured. Unlike the first stranger, he’d seen her on the ship, walking freely while he struggled to regain consciousness. Maybe she held the answers he sought.

Or maybe she’d look particularly appealing with his blade jutting from her chest, viscera baking in the unrelenting sun. His bloodlust raged, constantly hungry for a battle. Suddenly emerging from the prickly bushes, Astarion waved his arms frantically.

“Over here!” he called, chewing the inside of his cheek. “Help!”

The dark-haired woman reached for her mace while the red head was quick to rush to the aid of a stranger. Her naivete brought her running towards him, over the bluff. Fingers ghosted over his blade’s holster, a viper poised to strike.

It was then that she was revealed completely. Fair skin glistened with sweat and blood, awakening primal urges he knew all too well. Her heart thudded in its cage, maddening pulse thrumming in pointed ears as she drew closer yet. That hunger was reignited, a craving sought to be sated. Draining the little elf would take only a second, though her friend seemed to be more of a challenge.

“Careful.” he warned of an enemy that didn’t exist. “One of those brain things is lurking in the bushes. Can you kill it?”

“Why can’t you?” the cleric offered suspiciously, lurking protectively behind the other. “Seem capable enough. You’ve made it this far.”

“Yes, well,” a large hand made a show of swiping through silvery curls, attempting to charm his way into their good graces. “I would, but I’m terribly lacking where combat is concerned. And I can’t help but think this would be easy work for someone more magically inclined.”

“Stand down,” she commanded in a low, melodic voice, sparks glimmering at the tips of her fingers. “I’ll handle it.”

Drawing closer with a fumbling sense of confidence, Astarion recognized his time to strike. As soon as the trusting woman was close enough, he pummeled her onto the rocky ground with a grunt. Being stronger than he looked was a blessing as one arm kept shoulder firmly pinned to her sides. The other dove for a sharp dagger, bringing the weapon to a soft throat.

Drinking in the woman’s palpable fear was invigorating as her heartbeat continued to race, pummeling against spindly ribs as if trying to break free. Though the sharp edge of his blade yearned to taste her as well, biting into freckled skin.

“Listen carefully,” he hissed with no small amount vitriol, “I saw you galivanting on that ship. You’re going to tell me exactly what those tentacled freaks did to me unless you want your innards torn out.”

“What are you talking about?” Ilwyn gritted, struggling against him, “I’m not one of them! Please, free me. You don’t want to spill innocent blood.”

“You underestimate me,” he chuckled cruelly, digging the blade into her throat as red began to trickle free. “I’ll gut-”

One tadpole could sense another, delving into the pale elf’s mind. Suddenly immersed in the annals of Baldur’s Gate, Ilwyn was drenched in the shadows. Leering down the cobblestone paths, searching for something. Or rather someone as an insatiable hunger lingered deep in her belly.

Hissing in pain, Astarion rolled to his side, clutching at wispy curls as Ilwyn rolled onto her knees. It felt as though her head was being split in half, feeling emotions that weren’t hers. Pondering what sensations were rippling through a slight body, the foreign connection between the two suddenly ceased.

“See?” Ilwyn hissed. “They took me too.”

Astarion considered this a moment, struggling to catch his breath after his thoughts had been so blatantly breached. The mind flayers had infected them, given them a strange connection to complete strangers. How else would she be able to peer into his mind?

Deep maroon eyes flitted to the red head, the strange man grappling to regain his footing. Towering over her, Ilwyn admired his visage, the lustrous gleam of pale skin, the playful smirk tugging at the corners of pink lips. A foreign sensation ignited deep within her as a hand was thrust forward, tugging her upward. Practically colliding with a solid chest, she was quick to step away and brush granules of sand off billowing robes.

“Apologies.” One hand haughtily fell across his doublet, a man oozing with confidence as Ilwyn considered banishing him completely. “Can’t be too careful, considering.”

“We should stick together. Care to join us?” an ashen brow quirked, hardly believing such an offer after a blatant death threat. How quaint and objectively stupid.

“What?” Shadowheart declared in distress, fingers still wrapped around her mace. “Are you mad?”

“You know, I thought of trying to take a crack at it alone. Getting by on my looks alone has always worked in the past.”  Wine red eyes fluttered dramatically as a dark pair rolled in frustration.

“Rather vain, aren’t we?” Shadowheart cocked her head, assessing the new member of their party where Ilwyn had failed.

“Darling, you would be too with a face like this,” he snickered, marching forward to the Nautiloid wreckage. Ilwyn followed in stride, feeling the man’s certainty wash over her. “Any idea where the city is from here?”

“You’re Baldurian?” Ilwyn inquired with a genuine pleasantness that made his guts churn. “I’m from the city as well.”

“Hmm,” his tongue slid over pointed teeth before he was peering over one shoulder, “Shame to say we don’t run in the same circles.”

“Charming,” Ilwyn scrunched her nose, pretending that her feelings hadn’t been the slightest bit hurt. Marching forward, she pushed past the rather rude stranger with a renewed vigor. “Follow me.”

“Do you have the slightest idea where you’re going?” he huffed, arms crossed over an intricate doublet.

“Do you?” she shot back, watching as his mouth opened then closed once more.

“Please,” his voice dripped with sugar, overly saccharine with a venomous bite lingering behind such words. “Lead on, dear. I’d rather you get your throat ripped out first. It’ll give me a chance to run.”

“How noble,” Shadowheart jested, already growing tired of the back and forth. Carefully, the three wandered through the wreckage of the ship, scanning the perimeter for any more scurrying brains preparing to attack. Bright blue eyes landed on the corpse of a mind flayer, spread out across the ruins.

Stepping closer, the three regarded the monstrosity with disgust. Ilwyn crept closer, leaning in when her tadpole suddenly lurched. Tentacles twitched to life as the illithid creature took a weak breath. It was still alive, barely clinging to life. A cold hand clutched at her wrist, like an unbreakable vice as her vision began to swim.

Images of mind flayers were burned into her brain, a halfling suddenly falling to their knees, clutching at a throbbing head before a dark network of veins began to appear across a fleshy canvas, eyes becoming bright red pinpricks. She could feel the pain as a spine stretched, muscles ripping, mouth gaping…

Ripping herself free, the three watched in horror as the monster wheezed out an evil chuckle, chest heaving as it did. That was their future, what they’d turn into, what the tadpole could do…

“Let’s get out of here.” Shadowheart bristled nervously, shaken by the images that still swam in her mind.

“Better go before his brethren find us,” Astarion sneered, watching curiously as Ilwyn studied the creature with a dormant emotion.

Compassion. It made his blood boil.

“We can’t leave him suffering,” she reasoned, looking to others for support. The cleric said nothing while the man was obviously irritated.

“These are the blasted things that abducted us! And you want to spare it from suffering?” dumbfounded, his jaw gaped with no attempt to hide pointed canines.

“It’s the kind thing to do.” There it was, that unbridled empathy, a sense of selflessness that was beginning to gnaw at his nerves. Ignoring an indignant guffaw, her staff was retrieved before the base was slammed down upon an elongated skull. Yet the excessive grinding of its skull to a bloody pulp was enough to pique Astarion’s interest.

Maybe his new acquaintance harbored a rampant bloodthirstiness running through compassionate veins.

……

The camp was teeming with a plethora of strangers, all exhausted with their own agendas, brought together by the godforsaken tadpole lurking in their brains. Ilwyn sat around the fire, trading stories with the chatty Wizard of Waterdeep she’d grown fond of. Charming and amicable, unlike the others that had been befriended.

However, bright blue eyes continued to drift back to the other elf. His pale skin glittered in the moonlight, otherworldly as he flipped through scroll that hand been scrounged from a rather perilous crypt. Something about him was absolutely intriguing in spite of his prickly demeanor. Suddenly dark eyes flicked upward, sensing a presence.

Ilwyn’s gaze retreated back to the wizard quickly, enjoying the few moments of quiet that had been earned. The rest had retreated to their tents, in no mood to converse after a draining yet surprising day.

“You’re from the city as well?” Gale prodded, eyes gleaming as attempted to forge a bond.

“Yes. Residing in a sanctum in the lower city, honing my skills mostly.” Twisting her palm upwards, a weak flame flickered in the center.

“Magnificent!” the wizard exclaimed, clearly excited to find a like minded fellow. “How did someone so young become so efficient with their magic? It took me years to master mine.”

“I’m no master.” Ilwyn giggled, suddenly self-conscious of the scars marring her face. “But I’ve been practicing since I was a girl.”

Gale excitedly continued their conversation when she felt a prickle at the base of her skull. Glancing over her shoulder, Ilwyn caught Astarion staring as though she were a curiosity at a carnival. Lips curled upward into an amused smirk before dark eyes flitted away.

He’d invaded her mind, a mystery that begged to be solved.

Finally retreating to her bedroll, the young elf decided to relax aching muscles, wanting to regroup come morning. They could cover more ground, find more allies after a full night’s rest. The ground was hard yet comforting. No longer was she plummeting to her death, racing against a hoard of gith dragons as that damned ship imploded.

Yet as sleep finally settled in, a chill ran up her spine, pulling her from a moment of relaxation. Blue eyes snapped open, finding Astarion knelt at her side, sharp teeth bared. No, not teeth, fangs. Like a wild animal ready to rip into her. Realizing he’d been discovered, the man fell back on his haunches before muttering:

“Shit.”

#bg3 fanfiction #astarion x oc #astarion x tav #fanfiction #otp: every last drop

[driftward]

.deity

There is no faith like the faith of a child in their parents. Their love unquestionable. Their word gospel. Her world was theirs, and their beliefs were her truth. A tether between their blood and hers, nigh-unbreakable. It is only as she grew that she learned that they were fallible, their words as weak as any person’s, their ways as imperfect as anyone’s, their world only the same tiny slice all people get. And yet. Still, the bond endured. Still, the words soaked in and lived in her. Still, the hurt stayed.

And so when her self doubt rose like bile, churning in her gut, when self doubt turned sharp and pressed its blade against her neck, when fear pressed down upon her like an oppressive miasma to rob her of breath, when her self loathing flowed from the gaps in her soul where she was supposed to be fed and reared into a monster that is the summation of her fears…

Its form might be as though akin to Halone, but it wore the face of her mother, and the weapon it wielded felt like truth, come to free her from the burden she was.

grounded

Y'shtola had given the remote research team their marching orders, and as she left their company, she could hear them beginning to plan. Y'zel explaining the many things he had heard, G'raha and Krile beginning to consider new locations to check.

She trusted them, and so she left them to it. She had a different task to perform, and was now free to turn fully to it.

"Well, little one," she said to the doll she held in her hand, its soulgem charged near to full by the efforts of its compatriots. She gave it one last burst of aether, and murmured the spell that would bring it fully back to life.

"Tell me," she said. "What secrets do you hold?"

***echoes***

The wings vanished from the deity's form as it strode forward, kicking her down the stairs and following after her as she fell.

"Worthless," came the familiar voices of a dozen people she had known, looked up to, admired, followed. "Irritating. Underfoot. Why are you here?

She tumbled, coming to rest at last in the lowest dais in this strange place. As she pushed herself up to her hands and knees, she swore under her breath. She was freezing. She was hurt. She was alone.

She was going to die down here.

She struggled to her feet anyway.

She forced herself to her feet, anyway.

She would stand, anyway.

And then, she remembered.

Footsteps came up behind her, getting closer.

She was freezing, true. She was hurt, and she did not know when the hurt had started or when it would end.

But so long as she had her memories, she was never truly alone.

grounded

Y'shtola sighed. She was not sure what she had expected from the remnants of the soul of the little fairy. She had hoped it would have some clue as to finding her missing friend, or some memory of what had transpired in the lab. But it seemed confused, trying to orient itself, turning itself about.

Disappointing, but not unexpected. She prepared to dismiss it so that it may rest.

And then she heard it.

A voice, determined to make itself heard.

***echoes***

The monster in front of her did not respond to her outburst, but that was alright with her.

She did not know how to fight back, to defeat it, but that was alright with her.

She might die here, but that was alright with her.

Zoissette had said what she needed to say.

"I am sorry, Lavender," she whispered. "I do not think we will be making it home."

And then, she heard a voice, determined to make itself heard.

grounded

Y'shtola's eyes widened as she listened, hearing a familiar voice as it declared its name, as it declared its determination, as it let her know...

"We can find them! I can hear them!"

***echoes***

"Madam Commander!"

Zoissette heard Lavender call out to her, and she turned her head in time to see her familiar as she swept up to her. Dark energies flowed around Lavender, her form had changed, and there was a weapon in her hand, but Zoissette was overjoyed to see her.

"My strength is yours! We fight, together!"

#final fantasy xiv #junelezen 2023 #junelezen #deity #y'shtola rhul #lavender #biot writes #biot edits #echoes

[rinwellisathing]

You're Awful, I Love You: Part 19

Enver Gortash/Trans Male Tiefling Durge

Sentry made his way home exhausted that evening, his satchel full of vials, bones, and loot. He'd even found some artificial organs in some of his victims. When he thought about it too much, it filled his throat with bile to think how these patriars could keep themselves alive so easily when the people in the lower city and Rivington struggled. How much must these clockwork pieces cost? He shook his head. His purpose wasn't to worry about how people stayed alive, but rather how to cure them of that very temporary state of being. Though he didn't agree with his father on every facet of his purpose, that was one he happily accepted. There was beauty in death and beauty in the dead.

Sceleritas was waiting to receive his cloak and his acquisitions when he walked through the door of the temple. His remaining siblings sat around the common area, even Orin deigning to grace him with her presence. Sentry nodded. Good, this was the time to re-assign Jackal's position.

“Ah, good to see you all, siblings dear.” Sentry raised his arms with a flourish as he entered the room. “As you may have noticed, one of our number is missing. Our darling brother Jackal decided to try and step above his station” He smirked, shaking his head with a little laugh. “And you know? He didn't make sure he had the power to back it up, so of course he had to be disposed of. Anyway, that leaves our information gathering a little lacking....”

“Hmm...well, we know who it won't be.” Tomi giggled, looking at the tall, dour tiefling standing silently in the corner sharpening her scythe. “Not much of a talker unfortunately. But I'm a very good talker and what's more I'm good at getting others talking. I know secrets even Jackal couldn't discover.”

“A fair point, but then again, some things are easier to learn from the shadows than face to face.” Sentry thought a moment. “And that's why, though it truly pains me given how much she still has to learn, I have to assign this task to sister Orin.”

“A wise choice, O Odious One!” Sceleritas bowed at Sentry's side. “ Further proof that your father was right to make you his chosen. You always have the family's best interests in mind...ah even when the choice isn't the one you'd like to make.”

Orin smirked, rising to her feet and bowing low, exaggerated. Sentry rolled his eyes, well aware of the insult. “Yes, BROTHER dear, I will gather the slithering secrets of Baldur's Grave for our family...Thank you for this opportunity.”

Sentry inhaled deeply. “Orin, I swear...you KNOW the name of the city....you live here. You grew up here....It's...”He winced and breathed out a calming breath. “Okay...nevermind, good. Just...take your job seriously. Do it right. Not like your little corpse tea parties.”

The changeling's expression twitched a moment, smirk faltering to a look of pure malice before she forced the smile back on her face. “Hmm.. yes, chosen. I will begin immediately.” And with that, her smirk widened as she shifted into the form of a handsome, smug looking male elf with silver-blonde hair and pale eyes dressed in paladin armor. “This is a trustworthy face, is it not? I think I'll start with this disguise.”

Sentry paled a moment, looking into the face of one of his early victims, the feeling of Darryn's hand forcing his head against the wall of the room the trainees shared. The sound of him smirking, the feeling of his breath on Sentry's neck, but he shook it off, forcing the rage at Orin for bringing back that memory down. “A bit ostentatious, I think.”

Still, she slipped past him still in the form of the young man who'd terrorized him for most of his teenage years. Shaking his head, Sentry made his way across the room towards his door. A calloused hand blocked his path. Gabraela looked down at him with her haunting eyes.

“You are out on your own far too often, chosen. Jackal was hardly the only threat.” She spoke coldly, but there was no threat to her voice, was it worry? Sentry looked up curiously at her. “I don't think you should make these excursions without myself or Sceleritas by your side anymore.”

Sentry shook his head, brushing her aside. “I'm not afraid of Orin. I am Bhaal's own flesh and blood, not a child in need of protecting. Hells, if I'm too weak to protect myself from pretenders and underlings, I deserve whatever's coming to me.” He laughed as he opened his door and closed it behind him, sitting at his desk and spreading out some sketches he'd been working on.

A movement near the sewer grates at the ceiling of his room caught his eye. A flash of white and orange. Then from one of the ledges above his paintings, a pair of frightened green eyes stared down at him.

“Malta? What are you doing here?” He puzzled, standing up and extending his arms to receive the cat. Malta leapt from his perch and into Sentry's waiting arms, curling up there and closing his eyes. “Did you get lost? I'll bring you back to Wysp in the morning.” He whispered, surprisingly gently.

He deposited the cat gently on his pillow and returned to his work. The current sketch was one of a group of gnolls feasting. In a moment of wild fancy, Sentry had decided to plan a painting with a touch of humor to it. The gnolls were dressed in noble clothing with jewel encrusted dining ware set out on the table while humans and elves were displayed like fine cuts of meat. He supposed perhaps it was a commentary on the idea that beasts were more civilized deep down, but really he had to admit he just liked the idea of those adorable bloodstained beasties all dressed up and having a party.

With the sketch finished, he got up to choose a canvas for it before pausing. “Right...His plan....I should see how that's coming along. Guess I got caught up in the thrill of the hunt.”

#baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #tiefling #oc #durge #dark urge #writing #OC:Sentry Ojeda #gortash x durge #durgetash #lord enver gortash #enver gortash #fanfic

[lost-technology]

Okay, so I’ve begun writing my “Rem Survives” Trigun Stampede-universe fanfic.  While it’s going to start out on a very canon note, with Vash being a self-blaming, in crisis kid on Ship 3, angst galore...  I am thinking about how the events that will ensue will change his character / change the story a bit.  Vash will be largely the same person - still a pacifist, still prone to putting himself into dangerous situations to save everyone.  Still sad because the Big Fall still happened, Knives is still a jerk, Tessla still happened, etc.  A lot of events will stay true to canon, including how he loses an arm.  (Rem couldn’t protect him from that...Nai doesn’t even know she’s alive.  She’s in a stint of cold sleep for medical reasons at the time).  However, Vash will be less sad and less prone to useless martyrdom.  I really want Rem to impress upon Vash “The actions of other people are NOT your fault!”  - Upon hearing the truth about the Big Fall, she recognizes that Vash did not know of Nai’s plans for the codes.  She knew about their dumb and dangerous pranks.  She knows that Vash had no idea that Nai had mass murder on his mind.  So, “No, Vash, it’s not your fault!” *Ker-SMACK upside the head to try to center him when he’s just not listening to her.*  She gives a bit of fierce motherly love.  And of course, this comes out of her own trauma with Tessla and what she had to learn to move on - she tried everything she could to stop it - short of committing the kind of crime that would have gotten her thrown into a cold sleep incarceration when the ship’s regular Plants needed her.  She had to learn to tell herself that she didn’t bear the guilt for what happened, even if she only half-believes it.   And some of this is where Vash got his name, too.  Rem fought with her brain.  She couldn’t physically stop what was happening and Tessla didn’t fall under human rights laws, so Rem did heavy research into animal rights rulings, including humane treatment of research animals in laboratories and livestock law. (”At least give her the dignity that you would give a cow” - the words felt like bitter bile coming out of her mouth.  She hated them).  She chose the name Vash (”Vasche’” / French / Cow) as a reminder of this.  Like... it was her way of saying that her little boy was “not livestock.”      Nai came about his name because... sitting here thinking about the story... I just came up with a whole-ass original character.  I just decided, in my universe, Rem had a younger brother, Nai - an unusual name to be sure (but her parents were for unusual names.  She was never sure if “Rem” was their take on “Remembrance” or a female version of “Rembrandt.”  She always suspected the latter, but Rem, just Rem was on her birth certificate). Nai stayed on Earth.  He wasn’t allowed on Project SEEDS.  Rem notes a certain eugenics inherent in the project - not many people with certain illnesses and conditions were allowed aboard unless they were wealthy and well-connected, which her family was not.  Nai was severely bipolar enough to be disqualified. He also had a short stay in prison for a crime - I’m thinking he took part in an economics / human rights protest that turned into a riot and he was one of the people who’d gone off to break windows and start looting.  He was doing very well for himself by the time Rem got involved in SEEDS.  Worked himself up from a line cook to chef in a restaurant - obsessive cook, got the nickname “Knives” for his kitchen-skills and his formidable cutlery collection.  Rem muses how he saved up and spent the kind of money that could have netted her an entire wardrobe on a fancy sushi / haute cuisine knife that was folded and forged in the same manner as ancient Samurai swords.  She misses him, and so names one of her sudden!kids after him.   Anyway, yeah... ideas, ideas.   Await the first chapter of Survivor’s Guilt - coming soon to an Ao3 near you! 

#trigun #trigun stampede #trigun fanfiction #vash #vash the stampede #millions knives #rem saverem #rem lives au

[artificialqueens]

Fantaisie in F minor, Op. 49 (Anetra x Sasha Colby) - Writworm42

A/N: 3 years after a life-changing and career-ending attack, Sasha comes back to the piano with Anetra's help.

TW transphobic violence, though not written about in detail. Chopin is my absolute favourite composer and in tough times, I cling to his music. I hope I gave him a fitting tribute. Title is one of his pieces; I tried to pick one that fit the fic's mood, but lmk what y'all think! I highly encourage everyone who's not familiar with his music to listen to the songs named in the fic as well, they're all beautiful.

Thank you Athena for beta-ing & hyping me up. Please note, I'm not a guide dog user, but I did try my best to research. If anyone who is a guide dog user has any feedback for me, please let me know!

It makes the news the night it happens, and stays on the news for weeks.

First transgender winner of International Chopin Competition attacked at awards ceremony. Even three years later, the thought of it opens a pit in Sasha’s stomach that makes bile rise in her throat. The hospital stay where all the nurses treated her coldly, where she didn’t speak the language they spoke to each other, sometimes right in front of her, and only knew what she was told despite having so many questions. The way she had been only half-conscious most of the time between the painkillers, anesthetics, and ICU delirium. The pain, so much fucking pain. Being wheeled from surgery to surgery, never knowing when the last one would be.

Blinking and blinking and blinking, but seeing nothing but clouds and muted colours. A fog she’d never be able to get out of, no matter how many ophthalmologists she consulted. 

She brings her hands to her face, the phantom burn of acid tearing over the bumps of her scarred skin as her throat tightens, her heart speeding up. Her mind’s eye was 20/20, suddenly maybe more. She could see the crowd on their feet, hear the thundering applause, feel the weight of the award plaque in her hands. See the shine of the gold medal as it extended towards her, only for a collective gasp to draw her attention away, away from her joy and towards a man’s face twisted in disgust and anger, the open jar in his hand flying towards her--

“Baby, baby, breathe. Breathe.”

Sasha blinks at Anetra’s voice. The music that had been playing on the radio came to an abrupt stop. Chopin’s Grande Polonaise Brillante. The piece she’d been trying to forget for three years. 

“You’re safe,” Anetra repeats, “It’s okay. I’m here.” 

Sasha feels the phantom pain fade, replaced by the prickle of hot tears at the corner of her eyes. It strikes her as incredibly ironic in a cruel way--of all the things that attacker had taken from her, he had somehow managed to miss her lacrimal ducts. Or maybe the surgeons had just saved them. She supposes she should be thankful--no, knows she should be. And she is, most of the time. 

It’s just that right now, she feels ugly all over again.

Sasha’s psychologist had encouraged her to start listening to Chopin again about six weeks ago. It had been extremely difficult at first; she barely made it through half of the Wrong Note Etude before Anetra had to step in and help Sasha calm down. But it had worked—slowly but surely, with Anetra by her side, she could make it through a playlist without needing to do much more than deep breathing. And even though sneak attacks from the radio were difficult, just picturing Anetra leading her through a breathing exercise was enough to help her come out the other side unscathed. 

“Would it help if I hold you?” Anetra asks, as if the answer isn’t almost always yes. Sasha nods anyway, leaning in for Anetra to wrap her in a hug.

“We can reschedule, you know--if it’s not a good day, I mean.” Anetra says quietly after a few minutes, stroking her fingers through Sasha’s hair like she knows she likes. It’s a tempting offer, but Sasha just shakes her head.

“We already reserved the music room,” she sighs. “Besides, if we waited for a good day…”

Anetra nods, not even needing Sasha to finish the sentence. They set today to reach this goal so that there would be a firm time, less room for Sasha to second-guess and back out just like the last two attempts.

She’s made up her mind--for better or for worse, she’s going to sit at a piano today.

“I think I’m okay now,” she pulls away from Anetra after another minute, heaving herself up to stand again. “I’ll go get ready.”

--

The drive to the community centre is relatively short, but feels like an eternity for Sasha. They drive in relative silence except for the occasional yawn or sneeze from Sasha’s guide dog Busby, a chocolate lab with as much personality as Sasha and Anetra combined. They don’t dare put on any music for fear that something upsetting might come on the radio, and Sasha can’t think of much to say, anyway. So she reaches her hand out into the back row for Busby to move towards and hit his snout up against, allowing the cold, damp feel of his nose to ground her. 

“We’re here,” Anetra advises as they turn into the parking lot, and for a second, Sasha falters. They’re doing this, they’re really doing this. it’s freeing to think of, yes, and she’s proud of herself, but… The battle’s not over yet. They’re still in the parking lot. They have to actually walk in, have to actually open the door to the music room, have to actually walk up and sit down and then what if the piano bench isn’t big enough for the both of them, what if there isn’t even enough space for Busby to sit by the piano and he has to stay by the door and so she’s trapped, trapped sitting on a bench because she doesn’t know her way around the room and Anetra will be far and Busby will be far and it’ll be a disaster--

“Hey.”

Sasha jolts to attention at the sound of Anetra’s voice and the feeling of her wife’s hand on her shoulder. 

“The room has an upright, I think it’s a Yamaha. It’s arranged on the far side of the room so there’s room to move around freely. The piano bench fits two and Busby can sit beside you.”

“How did you--” 

“I know you is how,” Anetra laughs. “I visited the room last week just to make sure all the logistics would be smooth for you. For us,” she adds, moving her hand down to grab Sasha’s and give it a comforting squeeze.

“I love you,” Sasha sighs, the warmth of gratitude and affection flooding her chest.

“I know,” Anetra says, and Sasha just knows she’s smiling. 

They walk into the community centre together, Sasha holding Anetra’s hand in an iron grip. Even though she can’t technically see, Sasha swears she can feel a million pairs of eyes watching them as they move through the building. She can’t decide which of her insecurities is worse; the bitter anger that people might see a mangle-faced freak with a victim for a partner, or the painful dread that they might see her as a pitiful charity case with a saint of a wife. If they even see Anetra that way; Sasha swears that every time they’ve been out since they came back from Poland, people have assumed Anetra was her aide instead of the love of her life.

“We’re here,” Anetra gives Sasha’s hand one more squeeze as they come to a stop, Busby guiding Sasha right to the door of the music room and pointing his nose to indicate the location of the doorknob. Not that he needs to; before Sasha can reach out for it, Anetra has swooped in ahead of her, throwing open the door and stepping aside with a theatrical ‘ milady.’

“You’re such a dork,” Sasha snorts, giggling a bit despite herself as she steps inside. It’s strange; maybe it’s because she can’t really see, but as she’s walking deeper into the room, nothing plays in her mind and there’s no anxiety in her chest. She knows there’s a piano, yes, but somehow, for a split second, she convinces herself that the room is empty, just a regular room with nothing special or scary in it.

That is until Busby guides her to the piano bench, allowing her knees to graze its edges, and her heart drops into her stomach. 

Breathe, Sash. Breathe . She closes her eyes and inhales shakily, imagining the things that make her feel calm just like her psychologist taught her. Listening to her favourite songs. Red velvet cake. Her family back in Hawai’i. The soft feeling of plumeria petals against her fingertips and sun-warmed sand between her toes. Her and Anetra’s honeymoon in Tahiti, making love under a deep orange sunset. 

“I’m coming beside you,” Anetra warns, careful not to disrupt Sasha’s fragile attempt at inner peace, for which Sasha is incredibly grateful. She relaxes a little further, opening her eyes by sheer force of habit so as not to feel surprised by the sudden warm presence of her wife beside her. 

“Take your time, angel,” Anetra murmurs, reaching for Sasha’s hand and giving it another squeeze. “We have the room for an hour, we can just stand here that whole time if that’s what you’re up to doing.” 

“If I do, Dr. Da Luca will make me come back again next week,” she jokes, even though it’s definitely true. Though Sasha supposes that she’ll have to come back next week regardless of whether she succeeds today or not; that’s the key to exposure, Dr. Da Luca keeps reminding her--consistency and repetition.

She’s trying not to think about that right now, though.

“Would it help if we put on music?” Anetra chances, and honestly, Sasha isn’t really sure, but she nods anyway, willing to try. She’s curious, anyway, what kind of music Anetra will pick--Anetra’s a mood-listener, someone who forgoes genre or artist to pick solely based off of the vibe she feels. And considering that Sasha has absolutely no idea what to call the vibe in this room right now, if Anetra can provide some clarification, well. She’s sure Dr. Da Luca would support that. 

“Remember when you taught me this song?” Sasha can hear the grin in Anetra’s voice as Go Tell Aunt Rhody starts playing off her phone, and Sasha can’t help it--she bursts into the kind of laughter she never would have thought she’d be capable of in this moment. 

 “Yeah, I remember,” she rolls her eyes, giving Anetra a playful shove on the shoulder, “It took you three days to get the hands-separate version even remotely acceptable. Which honestly was pretty impressive. Just, you know, for all the wrong reasons.” 

“Hey! I got it in the end, didn’t I?” Anetra protests in mock offense. “Pretty damn well, too, I would say. Hands together, even!” 

“And I was very proud,” Sasha giggles. 

“You know, I think I still remember it, actually,” Anetra continues pensively. “Move over, let me check this out--”

Before Sasha can even think about what’s happening, Anetra is plunking her way through something that sounds more like one of Busby’s more theatrical whines than any song Sasha’s ever tried to teach her. It’s absolute chaos, and as much as Sasha knows Anetra’s doing it on purpose, she also can’t help but try to step in.

“Oh my God, stop, that’s not how you do it--”

“Mhm,” Anetra’s hands come off the piano, her voice smug as it suddenly hits Sasha that she’s not standing anymore. She’s not hovering, not bending over to correct her wife. Instead, she’s… 

“Did I… Am I…?” 

“You did it, baby!” Anetra squeals, practically throwing herself onto Sasha and squeezing her tightly. “I’m so proud of you.

“Oh my God,” Sasha laughs in disbelief. Her heart is pounding, and her throat feels tight, but she did it--she really, actually did it. 

“How do you feel, sweetheart?” Anetra keeps hugging Sasha, holding onto her tightly as tears begin to gather at the corner of Sasha’s eyes again. She knows they’ll spill over if she tries to speak, so instead, she just puts her head on Anetra’s shoulder, sighing contentedly as Anetra brings a hand up to stroke her hair. 

“Neech?” she finally says after a few minutes, when the beating of her heart has fully calmed and her throat feels relaxed again. 

“Yes, angel?”

“Can you play it again?” Sasha buries her face deeper into Anetra’s shoulder, breathing in the scent of her perfume.

“Oh, you want a little bit more of this?” Anetra’s voice is dripping with mischief as she begins to bang on the keys again.

“Fuck off,” Sasha laughs. “No, for real this time. Just… play it again.”

So Anetra does, and it sounds absolutely beautiful. 

#rpdr fanfiction #anetra #sasha colby #anetra x sasha #lesbian au #fluff #angst #hurt/comfort #disabled character #writworm42 #concrit welcome #tw transphobia

[oblivions-arts-culture]

ENVY'S TOP TEN ALBUMS OF 2022 (PART 2)

5-1 this time!!! No extras on this one I prommy <3 top ten is top 11 ONLY

5

Everyone’s favourite Satanic metal group are at the height of their powers right now. If you couldn’t tell by the huge spike in their popularity, it’s evident in the confidence – arrogance, even – of the latest incarnation of frontman Papa Emeritus. Tobias Forge’s devilish diva is brimming with Ego on the group’s fifth album, from the patriotic call-to-arms of Kaisarion to the Disney-Villain antics of Twenties. But that swagger betrays a rot at the heart of IMPERA’s imagined empire. Beneath the righteous glory and titanic industries of ‘progress’, the people at the epicentre of this empire still can’t walk home safely at night. That’s the stark message hiding on this album - and it’s Forge’s ability to be so incisive in spite of the silliness of Ghost’s premise, that cements this project as one of metal’s most engaging.

4

When you know that no pop artist does fun quite like Carly Rae Jepsen, an album name like this might lead you to believe her latest album is more sombre than usual. There’s some truth to that – the moodiness of tracks like Joshua Tree and Talking to Yourself are a new turn for the Canadian queen, as is the laidback softness of Western Wind. The most successful divergence from her usual style is the heart-breaking faux-country breakup track Go Find Yourself Or Whatever. But make no mistake; joy is still the defining ethos of Jepsen’s material, despite the circumstances, and the euphoria that she brings on this record is second to none. Because she’s right; we really have had the loneliest time. But what’s the point in not dancing and being in love anyway?

3

The last few years have been no stranger to incisive social commentary, but in my opinion there’s a key element to our modern age that’s missing from a lot of attempts to figure out what’s going on: how completely absurd it all is. Enter Viagra Boys’ bizarre post-punk magnum opus, to tackle the insanity of our times head-on. The humour of the affair adds a necessary bite to the band’s commentary – it would come off as absurd if it weren’t such a perfect reflection of the experience of scrolling through online opinion pieces. It’s eclectic, it’s incapable of standing still, it’s insane and it is very funny. But it’s also not shy about how bleak it all is. You have to laugh, because if you don’t, you’ll scream, and Cave World captures that sensation better than anything else this year.

2

Very few albums this year rewarded your patience and careful attention as generously as Ethel Cain’s debut LP. Between a gorgeous atmospheric intro and a cathartic, emotive opener in American Teenager, your opening minutes are nothing short of awe-inspiring. From here, the album pivots between hazy moments of ethereal worldbuilding, and earth-shattering, subterranean explosions of catharsis, all as part of an engrossing tale of intergenerational trauma. The album is a vicious cycle of gut punches followed by warm embraces, and it will consume you if you let it. You should let it.

1

This does not feel like listening to an album. This feels like being delivered a profane sermon, inside the rotting corpse of a church, at the blackened end of everything. There is a bile, a malice that has been allowed to fester at the heart of our society for all too long, and Ashenspire have captured this with all the anger and disgust it warrants. Haunting and poetic in its lyricism without wasting the blunt rage of its delivery, musically varied but never lacking in aggression or creativity, Hostile Archiecture is a document of a society gone Wrong, as complete in its assessment as it is uncomfortable in the truths it makes you face. I hope an album like this never has to feel this necessary again.

My favourite songs from each album:

Wet Leg: Ur Mum

Black Country New Road: Good Will Hunting

Kendrick Lamar: Auntie Diaries

Big Thief: Flower of Blood

Friendship: Ugly Little Victory

Death's Dynamic Shroud: Judgment Bolt

Ghost: Respite on the Spitalfields

Carly Rae Jepsen: Go Find Yourself or Whatever

Viagra Boys: Ain't No Thief

Ethel Cain: Ptolemaea

Ashenspire: Cable Street Again

Part 1 (entries 10-6) is below!!!!

#I'm doing runners up/honourable mentions during the week!

[spaghetti-man99]

I Do Not Miss You.

An Athos and Milady blurb

request made by @rozalynfrozen  :)

Athos had always thought that She had a very specific kind of beauty. Even from afar she had been beautiful, before Athos could really put a word to it he knew she was what most would consider attractive. Her build, her manners, everything about her had been the kind of manicured beauty that any Lord would be lucky to wed. 

That, however, had not been what Athos loved. It had been the little things, things like the way her hair fell, the way her eyes wrinkled when she smiled, the way her skin seemed to glow in the soft candlelight of their chambers. The things that only he was permitted to see and know so intimately were what made him love her so much.

 Of course, he could not know everything about his love.  

Athos still woke in a cold sweat long after that morning, the morning that he had seen his love, had known her for what she truly was. It had shattered something inside of him, that simple brand. It was almost like his heart just stopped, unable to keep beating, to hold the burden of the knowledge he now knew. And when he watched his Lady’s body swing? There was no coming back from that. 

He left his home. His past was wholly unimportant to the other Musketeers when he joined (except Porthos, who always seemed a bit too nosy), which suited him just fine. What was the point of a Lord without a Lady anyways? He didn’t care to tell them, and they didn’t ask.

When he saw his Lady again, she was no longer his Lady. She was Milady De Winter, a name and an act that brought bile up Athos’s throat as he watched her lurk in the shadows, still beautiful but now only in that cold, manicured way he had known at first. 

How he had wanted to hate her for coming back. 

How the very sight of her brought tears to his eyes.

It was like all the beauty he had lost that day was hanging in front of him, so close but just out of reach as he watched the distance grow further and further… 

He refused to discuss her with the others. The others did not wish to discuss her with him. 

He did not miss her. He assured himself countless times, chanting it over and over in his head until it drowned out the memory of his hand in hers, of the way she had felt so fragile in his arms 

(the way he had broken her) 

—--------

Milady would always claim it was Athos’s good looks and fortunate heritage that had drawn her to him. How else could she explain it? How could she explain to some stranger that she loved him for the way he threw his head back when he laughed? Or the way that he seemed to savor and taste every bite of the food he ate? Or even the way he wrote her such terrible poetry? Such things were unutterable in her line of work. 

Of course the Cardinal had known it wasn’t that shallow. Of course he had tried to figure it out for himself. But how could such a heartless man ever understand the complicated pattern love weaved? She had side stepped him at every turn. 

 Not even when she told him of her death did she tell him the whole truth. She wanted to, she wanted to tear Athos down to the very last shred for what he had done to her, but then she remembered the way their eyes had locked and the distant disappointment and grief that had met her. She told him that she had done it herself and was saved by a kindly blacksmith. 

Seeing Athos after that day was always painful, but the anger she felt helped her march through. She would just remember the way the rope had felt on her neck, or the shame she had felt at his accusations, and anything other than quiet rage was gone. It burned her up inside, the place he kept in her mind that she had tried so hard to destroy. 

Something about the sadness, the tired lines that his eyes now held whenever they locked on her was haunting, and she couldn’t seem to remove them from her mind. She still found herself reaching out in the night, wrapping her arms around a memory, a concept that had long since escaped her, and still she declared she did not miss him. She shouted it until she believed it, until the image of his glittering eyes was shaken from her thoughts  

(how quickly those eyes had gone dark)

#the three musketeers #milady #athos #athos x milady

[pen-of-roses]

WHG:Trielace, Crash and Drown

@concealeddarkness13 @ratracechronicler @maple-writes @knmartinshouldbewriting

I’m sorry.

It drummed through her head as she slipped out of the house, trading oppressive noise for oppressive silence in the morning air.

The heavy fabric of the purple dress–lilac as her sister called it–was stifling in the burning heat. It being sleeveless offers little comfort. Less when she trips over the hem because of the heels her mother insisted on. Between it and the overly intricate hairstyle that still tugged at her skull, she looks more prepared for a Capitol ball or whatever they have there, than District Ten’s Reaping.

The Reaping.

Not for the first time, the reminder settles heavily in her chest. 

She barely catches the fence railing in time to support herself, the burn little more than a nuisance compared to the guilt and bile.

It’s the last one for her, her last day being eighteen, but it's a hollow victory. Just because she won’t be a possible victim doesn’t stop the countless other children every year. Doesn’t stop the fact her family throws a party the night of that reaches into the next morning because of their Capitol connections. Because of her.

They’ll celebrate so much more this year too.

She wasn’t ever even really a choice in all of it, with her name only ever in once.

I’m sorry.

The morning air is still quiet this early, no one else has dared to breach the false peace of their homes before the storm outside. Still, the noise of celebration and preparation in her own chases after her.

She abandons the heels in the bushes at the end of the walkway. They’ll still be there when she returns in a few hours anyway, and it’s not like her family ever actually attends the Reaping to notice the height difference. More importantly, the grass and gravel beneath her feet is a grounding comfort she can cling to. 

Proof she’s not on the swaying boat it feels like.

It’s only when her neighborhood is well and truly behind her–at least for the next few hours—that the false peace and cheer evaporates into the rest of Ten. The real Ten.

Though, it also can’t be the real Ten today, with everything having to be up to a presentable for the Capitol standard, from the residents, to the buildings, to the animals—or rather lack thereof. (Never would have thought she’d miss seeing cows—never would have thought it wouldn’t be the last time.) People—children—are being hounded by parents over their clothing as they duck out the door, and or held just a little longer than normal. Peacekeepers are making an actual appearance in public.

Daily life abruptly halted in a standstill but also a flurry of hurried movement towards the square.

It’s the same as it is every year.

And yet, something feels so different.

Her mother said it was because she was on the cusp of being a woman.

Her sister said it was excitement.

Her father said it was just nerves, and not to worry.

Ellyx had agreed.

She had not.

There was something dark on the horizon.

Being a bit melodramatic there, aren’t you Lacey?

I’m sorry.

The twitch of a smile felt hollow as she filtered into the line. Ellyx had been there with her every year. The small comfort in the sea of anxious bodies around them every year. He promised to volunteer if she got called every year.

It was a comfort in its own way, though the reality behind it cut through the kind intent. After all, it was no secret he wanted into the Games. If only for revenge. No secret he put his name in as much as he could but was never chosen.

Not that he ever volunteered either however. He would promise the next one he would. Or the next one, every year.

She never called him on the fear in his eyes.

Every year.

Except this one.

Their last one.

I’m sorry.

There had been a note delivered to her last night from someone unknown. The handwriting though had given it away, even if it was just a couple hastily scrawled words.

He hadn’t shown up to walk with her.

He hadn’t shown up at the gate.

He wasn’t in the crowd.

Something dark on the horizon indeed.

She held a little tighter to the paper in her pocket as she took her place in the crowd.

The former winners—or rather winner, a woman only a few years older than her who’d earned the name Siren for how she manipulated her way through the Games—the escort, and town officials took the stage, the Reaping truly began. 

But the words were drowned out by the drumming in her ears.

I’m sorry.

This is the last year for her.

But not for everyone else in the crowd.

Or those that would come after.

She just had to make it through this one.

And then get through watching others go.

The video was ending and the escort was talking.

The drumming was only getting louder.

Could she watch that every year when she drowned in the guilt now?

Could she watch it this year?

The escort walked to the bowl.

The bowl her name was in once, compared to how many times had others?

I’m sorry.

She couldn’t watch this every year, she couldn’t watch this now, she couldn’t—

She was moving forward before the escort even opened the paper—

“Trielace!”

The crowd—the District—froze around her.

The drumming—her heartbeat—stopped.

And then slowly, the crowd shifted away, leaving her alone and visible for the Peacekeepers to locate.

I’m sorry.

She offered no resistance as she followed, how could she?

The even stage felt more unstable than the loose gravel under her bare feet.

It was her last Reaping.

Her last day being eligible.

Her last day being eighteen.

Her last birthday.

She stumbled over that last step, the silence broken by the crashing of the bowl of names.

“I’m sorry,” she managed, as the crushing weight of the escort's steadying grip on her arm and plaster smile settled over her. 

Somehow it only now registered that there was only one bowl this year.

She reached for the note that had fallen from her grasp and mixed with the name slips.

The same name on every single one.

And from the center of it, the note’s words taunted her.

I’m sorry.

#whg #writeblr hunger games #not sure how i feel about this #but #trielace

[dameronalone]

💬! :D

thanks brynn!!

"We need to scramble Black Squadron, somebody to get back to Jakku, we have to find BB-8, I left him, I left him there, that place is full of scavengers, do you know how many people there would kill for a functioning droid? Not to mention the First Or- Order is after him, he has the map," Poe said, talking at the speed of light, but neither Kaydel nor Leia mentioned how he stumbled over the words First Order. If he stopped to think about what had happened, he was going to break. Breaking under Kylo was enough. "He's got the map and now he's missing because I-"

"Poe," Leia said. His mouth snapped shut. Slowly, Leia reached out again, touched his face, his head lightly. He didn't flinch this time but couldn't stop his eyes from fluttering closed for just a moment. "Who did this?" she asked softly, so gently Poe thought he would break. He knew what she was asking. He didn't want to tell her.

"...Stormtroopers," Poe admitted slowly. "Mostly."

Leia stroked his hairline.

"A droid. And-" He didn't think the name would come out, not without a rush of bile. But he'd never been able to deny Leia Organa. "I'm sorry," he said in a rush, squeezing his eyes closed, "I'm sorry, he knows where we are, it's my fault, I wasn't strong enough-"

Leia hugged him, this time, arms tight around his shoulders. It hurt. Poe clutched her sides anyway, grabbing fistfuls of her robes as he hid his face against her like a child.

i will a) never shut up about poe's kylo trauma but if you've known me long enough you already know it's a running theme for me and b) never not be fascinated with poe's speech patterns because of the way oscar acts him. sometimes I'm listening to poe dialogue and I'm like, wow this man is so audhd

the dialogue is from this fic which is a kind of force awakens missing scene when poe gets back to the base

#ask game #dialogue ask game #brynnmclean

[isawhitney]

Ariel

Sometimes I think I’d be better off still stuck in that

Tree trunk. At least it was quiet there. I’d gotten pretty far

Into my oral dissertation on post-colonial theory

And its manifold ramifications on certain works of

Early Stewart poetry when a knock rattled at my knotted

Door. You could tell he was a prick just from hearing it,

That sort of gestapo ratatat-tat that goes ‘Open up,

You coloured bugger, or I shall be forced to do something nasty’

And then does it anyway. Anyway, fool I was, I answered.

It’s been a long year.

At least it wasn’t just me. This isle was damned well

Full of noises and more than half of them had ended up

On the Milanese payroll some way or another. Caliban,

That poisonous git, pretty much rolled out the whole

Red carpet just after I’d been forcibly added to the list

Of dramatis personae. Personally, I think he was wasted.

Never could handle his liquor, bad as his witchy

Forefathers. And after that, there was no hope for us.

She was alright. A sweet thing, plenty kind and innocent

And all that maiden bullshit. Of course, with a dad like that

And no decent blokes around for miles, I’d think

You’d have to be. We never talked much. He didn’t like it,

And what he didn’t like we learnt to avoid like fire.

Can’t say I’ll miss her, but I hope that that whole prince thing

Goes her way. I didn’t understand much of it and, really,

Neither did our lord and master, whatever he says.

I was instrumental in every element of our escapade.

A knavish sprite, a flaming amazement, you name it,

I performed it with verve and perspicacity. Acting

Was always my forte, and with twelve years to practice

Servitude I’d gotten rather good at it. The ship crashed

Thanks to a couple of favours I cashed in with

My friends in the oceans, cousins in floods and blood and bile.

His brother was there. It was therapeutic, the way I ravaged him

And tore his dainty sanity limb from limb from limb.

They looked enough alike. The wizard, the madman,

My master, got what he wanted in style and left us.

In leaving, he freed me and kissed me on the cheek.

Our isle is silent now. It’s empty. They’re just gone

And nothing’s changed but everything. Prospero,

You gave us freedom, a blank page and space

To start again, but did you know it wouldn’t be

Enough? I think you did.

#poem #poems on tumblr #poetry #books & libraries #literature #words #poems #spilt ink #spilled ink #libraries #shakespeare #william Shakespeare #the tempest #tempest #ariel #prospero #Miranda #Antonio #this is kind of a sequel to my Viola poem #i’m pretty proud of it #post colonialism

[fexicontent]

stand by me; chapter 6

or read this chapter on ao3 Summary: Lexi goes to work another shift, and some things go down at this restaurant. Lexi and Fez talk again. Tw for sexual harassment!

The restaurant she had to work at that night was a longer bike ride than she expected. It was actually not even within the bounds of East Highland, it was located in a neighboring town. She should have probably driven her car there, but it was too late for that now.

Once Lexi was changed into the simple work costume, consisting of a simple red blouse with their logo, she was ready to work. It was only 3, so the restaurant was still fairly empty. It was nice, because in that way she could ease into the work.

After somewhat more than 4 hours, Lexi finally got a break. She walked into the small canteen behind the kitchen and got seated. Her manager followed her into the canteen and took a look at her, scrunching his eyebrows.

"Do you have any makeup on you? You look sick," He said. Lexi couldn't really tell if she should feel insulted. Her manager was a middle-aged man, his hair slicked back giving him a somewhat cocky look, but he had seemed nice up until that moment.

"Um, I don't, actually. I'll just splash some cold water into my face," Lexi said, not really knowing what else she could possibly do about it.

"Okay. If you're hungry, you can grab some food. We got some things back there for staff only. And you can take a longer break than I initially told you, it's not all that busy. I'll give you twenty-five minutes," He nodded towards the cabinet, then walked out again.

Lexi had been starving, so of course, she had to grab some food. She ended up making herself a sandwich, and grabbed a bag of pretzels. She really needed the food.

Before Lexi knew it, her twenty-five minutes were over again. She quickly splashed some tap water in her face and took a long hard look in the mirror. She didn't look great, she'd admit. But she'd be better tomorrow, as she was not working for as long. She'd be in school in the morning, and she didn't do anything there anyway, really.

As Lexi walked over to the new table she was assigned to serve, her eyes lingered on a table a few tables away from the one she had to serve. Her heart stopped for a second, and then she had to recover, go on, act like nothing was wrong.

"Hi! I'll be serving your food tonight, have you guys made a decision yet as to what it may be?" She asked, arriving at a booth with a table seating four old men. They all looked up from their conversation.

"Yeah, I thought I had a decision," One of the men started talking. As he went silent again, Lexi just stood there, batting her eyelashes at him. She raised her eyebrows, sending him a confused look, waiting for him to continue.

"I thought I wanted the chicken salad with fregola, but now I'm thinking you...," He squinted his eyes to look at the improvised name tag on her blouse, "... Lexi. Yeah, I might wanna get a taste of that instead." He licked his lips, and Lexi cringed.

His hair was dirty and grey, his face sweaty and wrinkled. She tried to fake a smile. "Sorry, sir, that's not on the menu," She said. "Hmm, well, if you'll write down your phone number I'll ring you up sometime. I pay big bucks for that kind of flesh,'' He said. Lexi swallowed the bile that was rising up her throat.

"Your order, sir?" She asked, a bit more harsh to let him know she wasn't liking his tone. "Yeah, I'll have the roast chicken salad with fregola, and a beer with it. That would be it, sweetheart." He then shrugs.

Lexi looked over at the man seated next to him. "Well, if you ring Frederick over here up, I'll be there too. Can't miss out on that," He says. So they're all going to be like this? How fantastic. They better tip well.

She took on the rest of the men's orders and then quickly walked off back to the kitchen, reminding herself of the fact that she should be grateful that she got this table to serve and not the table a few tables over from theirs. The table which seated Ashtray and Fez.

Fez was seated with his back to the kitchen, and there was just no way he'd been able to see her from his vantage point. But Ashtray, on the other hand, sat opposing Fez and had a great view of the kitchen. Although she hadn't dared to look at Ash for longer than a second, she was pretty sure he'd noticed her.

Lexi tried to ignore it. She took orders from the other tables, served food. Brought Frederick and his three friends their beers. "There she is again," Frederick smiled. He surely seemed to be the leader of the group. "He's been waiting for you this whole time," The guy opposing Frederick stated.

"Uh huh," Lexi murmured, while putting the beers down on the table. As she leaned over the table to place the glasses on there, she felt a hand on the back of her thighs. She was wearing a skirt, so the cold touch was against her bare skin. She shivered, but continued putting the drinks down.

His hand slid up and sure enough, he stroked over the fabric of her skirt until his hand stayed on her ass. He suddenly gripped onto her, and she wanted to shove his arm away, but in her panic, she slammed the beer bottle Frederick was holding onto in his other hand onto the ground.

"Got all excited there for a second, huh," He grinned, and the other men laughed. Lexi took a step back. She had attracted way too much attention, and she silently prayed that Fez hadn't turned his head around to see what the commotion was about. She quickly bowed down to grab the shards of glass off the floor.

"With your bare hands?" One of the man at the table asked in surprise. Yeah, it wasn't the smartest idea, but she wanted to disappear, and the closest thing to it was just making herself as small as possible by pretending to clean her mess. "She likes it bare," Another one of the man laughs.

For a second, Lexi loses her cool. "This is a restaurant, not a fucking strip club." She says as she collects the smallest shards of glass in her hand. "Oh, feisty," Frederick said. Lexi looks up to see him with a smug grin on his face. She sees his gaze fall, dropping down to the unbuttoned part of her blouse. "I like the view," He says. She almost throws up.

When she gets back inside the kitchen, she breaks down. Tears are rolling down her face, and she's finding it hard to breathe. She discards of the glass, finding it's cut her just slightly. "Lexi! What's happened?" She hears the manager of the restaurant rush towards her.

"I'm so sorry, it was just this guy, he like—he grabbed me, and said, like—just really gross stuff. I'm sorry," She tried to wave it off. "No, don't be," He hands her a tissue, "That's really messed up, I'm sorry that happened to you." He says, and Lexi dries her eyes. "It's fine, I'm just going to drink some water and I'll get back to them."

"Hmm, you don't really have to," He replies, "I just, I don't have any security people stand by tonight, which is why I kind of can't send people away. You could tell who did it to leave if he keeps pulling shit like that, I could even call the cops if you need me to. But I'd rather keep it peaceful in here," He says. Lexi nods. "It's fine, I was just panicking for a second there, it shouldn't happen again."

Lexi splashed some cold water in her face for the second time that night, and went back to the booth seating the four men with a mop to clean the beer from the ground. She didn't say anything, she just cleaned. "Hey, we wanna have another beer. This man just chugged mine, as he wasn't about to lick his own drink off the floor, so we're going to need 5 now."

"Okay," Lexi nodded while cleaning. Soon enough the floor was spotless again. She made her way back to put the mop back in its place, and brought the men their beers. They made no silly remarks this time, and she was glad. She went on about her night, serving food and drinks where necessary.

She kept throwing fast glances over at the table that seated Fez and Ash. They had received their food, and she saw that Ashtray had fries with steak, which was exactly what she would expect him to order for some stupid reason. Fez was drinking a beer, and well, she hadn't really looked at his food. Every time she looked she was afraid he'd stare right back at her. Even if she already knew Ashtray had probably told him she was walking around here serving food.

All the people she served were pretty nice that night, except for one obvious party. She knew it wasn't going to lead to any good when she served the four old men their 5th beer before they even got their meal. They had begun to talk louder, and they started making inappropriate remarks again when she walked past.

When she finally did get their meals out, they were all properly out of it. "C'mon Lexi, have dinner with us, darlin'." Frederick tried to pull her into the booth. She cussed. "No, I don't really want to," Lexi spoke. He held onto her arm and looked her in the eye. "I have a nice meal for you," He gestured towards his dick.

"Sorry, I'm not interested," She tries to shake him off.

The man raises his eyebrows, and she feels her heartbeat pick up. She doesn't want to cause a scene, so she relaxed her arm for a second. His grip remained tight.

He then drags himself out of the booth and stands in front of her. He's tall, much taller than her, much taller than she'd expected him to be.

"Who are you to turn me down?" His voice is raised, and Lexi quickly looks around her to see how embarrassed she should be, how many people were watching her right now.

"Who are you to turn me down?" He repeats himself a lot louder now, and Lexi begins to feel herself panic. Not right now, not right here, she begs herself.

"I'm sorry," She murmured now, as he grabs a beer bottle off the table and raises it to her head. "I could fuckin' smash your brains in right now, why you being so difficult, girl?" He was still yelling. His finger traced along her jaw, reminding her of the bruise that was placed there less than a week ago.

Everything around them had gone silent at this point, it was just her and this guy left. But the silence was disturbed faster than she could even really capture what was happening. She heard the sound of a chair clattering to the floor, footsteps rushing in their direction.

"Yo, yo! Hold up now, man, keep yo hands to your fuckin' self!" It was a voice she recognized.

The hand that was once so firmly around her arm suddenly comes loose, the hand tracing her jaw bone is violently torn off of her face.

Lexi heard another loud thud, and she realized that the sound came from her own body hitting the floor.

She looked up to see Fezco absolutely raging against this grey-haired old man. He had him pinned against the wall that separated the dining booths, and somehow the old man was still laughing.

"I think she's into older men, but if you insist, I can share. I'll let you dick her down, quit the jealousy, ginger," Lexi heard him say.

The entire restaurant was now following the course of events, and Lexi wanted to be swallowed into the ground. The fact that Fez had to hear all these things and see her like this; it was genuinely horrifying.

"You need to pay for yo food and get yo ass and yo friends' asses outta this restaurant, like right fuckin' now." Fez was seething.

"Or what?" Frederick looked a bit less brave than earlier, but still tried to keep that conceited smile up on his face.

"You seriously askin' right now? Me and my lil bro here fresh outta prison, we was celebratin' that shit. You for real gotta give me a reason to get back in there?" Fez spoke, and she hoped and prayed to God that Fez didn't do something stupid.

Hell, threatening the dude like this was already something stupid. He was on thin ice, being watched everywhere he went. A death threat wouldn't go down well on him in court, an assault even less so.

Lexi was still lying on the ground when she heard Frederick say, "Come on then guys. You heard the big man. We needa go. Fuckin' pussy place this, fucking shit hole. You bet I'm leaving a bad review."

Lexi heard the other men rise out of their seats, get out of the booth. One of them got out his wallet and put some bills down on the table.

"You better leave a bad review, yeah. Do it using your actual name though, so I can file a formal complaint at the police station and get you a lifelong ban from our place." It was the first time Lexi heard her manager speak up. The men didn't really respond to him, they just kept walking.

One of her female coworkers kneeled down next to Lexi, and it was then that she noticed how her leg was shaking so badly she could hear a ticking noise from her shoe continuously hitting the floor.

However much she tried to relax, she couldn't. She tried to get herself up from the ground, putting herself into a sort of half-sitting position, leaning back onto her elbows.

"Oh my God, are you okay? That was crazy," Lexi heard her colleague say, and she quickly nodded before looking up at Fez.

She needed to thank him.

Fez finally turned around after what seemed like an eternity, and he looked down at her. She felt a bit uncomfortable, given the awkward position she was sitting in and the fact that she couldn't get her leg to stop shaking.

He looked concerned, yet he walked away from her.

God, why were these things so difficult, Lexi thought to herself.

When Lexi finally got up with the help of two of her coworkers, she went back into the kitchen to calm down for a bit.

The restaurant was bustling again, people were enjoying their meals and talking loudly like nothing had happened. "I was about to call the cops right before that guy stepped in," She heard her manager. "He really came in clutch." He stated.

"Yeah," Lexi nodded. "Can I pay for his food? I just want to thank him, some way." She asked.

"Sure thing, go ahead. Get him and the boy he came with a dessert, too. That's on the house." Her manager said. "Are you sure you want to finish your shift, though? You can also just go home, I can imagine that being a bit hefty and all."

Lexi nodded. "Yeah, it will probably be better too, get my mind off this entire situation for a bit." She really did want to stay. She at least needed to thank Fez.

He looked like he understood. "Well, I guess most of the tables you served have been picked up by coworkers in the meanwhile. So just see if you can take on some of their work, it won't be very long anymore till the restaurant closes."

Lexi did as he asked. She went to her coworkers, whom by now all knew her name, and figured out what tables she'd take on from them.

It all went reasonably smooth, some guests recognizing her and telling her they felt sorry for her or that she should be pressing charges. Neither of which were things she really needed to hear, but it was better than whatever bullshit came out of the mouth of Frederick.

At some point, walking into the kitchen, her coworker Francis handed her a menu card. "Hey, I just took away the dishes from the table with that guy who scared the bitch. Heard you wanted to thank him with free dessert, so here you go." She'd said.

Lexi wasn't really sure how to go about it. She couldn't just be like, 'Hey thanks for scaring that dude! Have some free ice cream'. She knew Fez, and Fez knew her. And they weren't exactly in the best place before this whole thing went down.

She walked over to their table kind of hesitantly, Ashtray eyeing her before he even knew she was actually planning on going to their table.

She stood beside the table, and that's when Fez could finally see her. "Hi," She started, putting on a careful smile. "Yo, Lexi," Ashtray was first to respond. Even though there was a hardness to his voice, it sounded well-meant.

"Hey," Fezco slowly said. "Are you okay?" He then asked.

Lexi looked down, then nodded. "It's alright. I came here to thank you. You didn't need to do that," She replied.

"'Course I had to, Lex. That guy was way out of line, and soon as I saw it happen I knew I had to fuckin' do something." His voice was soft, and she couldn't help falling in love with him just that tiny bit more.

"Bro wanted to beat the shit outta him first time I told him I thought I saw him put hands on you, thought I was gonna have to physically restrain him or sum'." Ashtray laughed.

"Well, if you'd actually been sure you saw what you thought you saw I would have. 'S not right," Fezco shrugged.

"You think I wouldn't have whooped that pervert myself if I'd actually confirmed the guy was fuckin' with my sis? Like I stayed in my seat when you got up later but that was 'cause I needed to make sure I pulled you out before we hoppin' onto another murder charge," Ashtray hissed.

She instantly melted at the way he referred to her as his sis. So he really didn't actually dislike her?

"Hmm," Lexi murmured. "Well, it's gained you a free dinner. Dessert's on the house, too." Lexi handed the menu cards to them. She didn't really want to say she was the one paying for their dinner, as she assumed Fezco would not be taking her money.

"Yo, Lex, I didn't even know you worked down here." Fez then said, picking up a conversation.

Lexi didn't really know what to say. "Um—yeah, well, I don't really work here, I--, I've just been waitressing wherever, really," She struggled to find her words. She didn't really know if Fez wanted her to go back to the kitchen and leave them be, or if he wanted her to talk to them.

A loud bang behind her released her from the internal conflict. She quickly glanced over her shoulder to see one of her coworkers scramble to the floor in an attempt to gather shards of glass. "Sorry, duty calls," She smiles dumbly at the two men seated at the table.

"'Course, do your thing," Fez stated. Lexi batted her eyelashes at him one last time and then hurried to help her coworker.

*

"You sure you don't need me to pay anything? Like, at all? I feel kinda bad about it," Fez asked Lexi, as the clock displayed it was a little past 10.30 PM.

"No, don't worry 'bout it. Got it taken care of," Lexi affirmed to him.

"I shouldn't even tip you? Aren't tips like, your main source of income as a waitress?" He then asked.

Lexi shook her head. "No, no. But if you really want to, tip the girl who was serving you right before I was. She was your actual waitress, not me."

Fez nodded. "Hm. I'll do that, gotta cut soon though. Our boy has a curfew now that he lives with a foster fam." He looked at the boy sitting at the opposing side of the table.

Lexi snorted. "Oh, have you really?" Lexi peeked over, at Ashtray. The tough boy was not looking so happy.

"'S not funny. They makin' me go to that stupid fuckin' school, and they ain't even lettin' me drive there by car. I never even rode a goddamn bike in my life," He muttered. Fez and Lexi both laugh at his statement. 

"Wait, are you going to East Highland High?" She asked now, imagining how weird it would be for Ashtray to actually do so. The boy nodded at her. "Shit, yeah." He grumbled.

When Lexi felt a hand on her shoulder, she was quickly pulled out of her conversation. "Hey, Lexi, could you help out in the kitchen, do the dishes?" She heard the girl that served the table seating Fez and Ashtray ask her. Lexi looked at the two guys one last time and sent them a small nod as to say goodbye, then turned to the girl. "Yeah, of course."

As Lexi walked away, she heard the girl speak again, but this time directed at Fezco and Ashtray. "I thought it was really brave how you just went at that guy, you didn't even hesitate to step in." Lexi slowed her walking, to eavesdrop on the conversation. "It looked really attractive on you too," She heard the girl say. 

Obviously, Lexi had no right to be jealous. Especially not given everything that had happened in the past few days, with him making it clear to her that he really just sees her as a friend. Yet still, hearing the girl say it like that, with this flirtatious tone, instilled a disturbing kind of resentment towards the girl inside of her. She didn't really want to know what it was that Fez had to say to her. Maybe he'd ask for her number, flirt back. So Lexi walked back into the kitchen.

Together with another coworker, she washed the dishes. Time went by rather quickly from then on, and when they were finished around 11, the restaurant was just about to close. Fez and Ashtray had already left, and she wondered for a second if she should call him after finishing work. She really wanted to apologize for kissing him that night, and then ignoring him during the days following.

She decided she would. She would call him. But she just wasn't sure when. Either tonight, or tomorrow. She still had to figure it out.

Cleaning the entire restaurant took a lot longer than she really wanted it to. Lexi was silently mopping the floor in the kitchen, her coworkers doing dishes and cleaning tables. In the office, her manager was counting money with another coworker. 

It was finally around half past 12 that everything was all done and they could go home. Lexi was asked to stay for drinks, like Lexi had figured they would, but Lexi shook her head and declined. She realized all of a sudden how exhausted she still was, and how badly she was starving. The food she had during her break six hours before, was no longer giving her any energy whatsoever.

She quickly walked over to her bike, reminded of the sketchy roads she had to take to get to the restaurant. She bit her tongue and grabbed the keys to her home in one hand, gripping onto it as if it were a deadly weapon that she could use in the face of danger. 

"Lexi," She suddenly heard behind her, and tightened her grasp onto the key before recognizing the voice. 

"Fezco?" She turned around to see him stand there, still in his grey button-up. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows now, however. She realized it made him even more attractive, but quickly tried to rid herself of the thought.

"Was afraid you'd already left,'' He spoke, "I'm not letting you ride yo' bike in the dark like this."

"Oh, it's fine. I often ride my bike in the dark, it's safer than you'd think." It was a small lie, and she realized how stupid it sounded after she'd said it. 

"Nah, Lex. You just lucky. But something bad only has to happen once, and I'm not riskin' it." He rebutted. "So, c'mon now, let me put your bike in the trunk," He walked closer towards her, and as he took the bike from her hands, Lexi could smell the cologne on him. 

How could she ever be friends with him, if with every step he took, every move he made, she fell more in love with him? It was just embarrassing. And painful, that too. 

They started walking towards the car. Fezco was dragging her bike forward with one hand on the middle of the steering wheel, as if it was nothing.

"You know, I can't believe you never taught Ashtray how to ride a bike." She laughed, but upon repeating the words inside of her head, it kind of sounded like a sneer. She quickly quit her laughing, "I'm sorry, don't know why I said that. You did well raising him, especially given the circumstances."

He glanced over at her. "Nah, you good. I wish I showed him how to ride a bike. 'M glad he's still getting that kind of upbringing now though, you know, school and shit. Want him to make something of his life, he's a good kid."

"Yeah, of course. He is. Is the family he was placed in okay?" Lexi then inquired. She could see the Caddy now, as they walked into the parking lot beside the restaurant. 

"Hmm. They alright. They not too strict, which, ya know, Ashtray can live with. So, I got like a deal going on with them, that he can come by every now and then, maybe every weekend, if Ash goes to school and doesn't do wild shit. They allowed me to have dinner with him here tonight, 'cause his house is near."

Lexi nodded. "That sounds great. I mean, you can still see him and have fun. He didn't move hundreds of miles away," Lexi chirped. 

Fez popped open the trunk of his car and placed her bike inside of it. Lexi then got into the passenger seat of the car, Fez hopping in next to her and starting the car. 

They drove out of the parking lot, into the darkness.

She suddenly felt the tension rise, and knew she had to say something to break it. The reminder of her kiss shot through her head, and she spoke up before she could stop herself. "You know, I really am sorry about Wednesday night." She heard herself say, and she felt the temperature in the car drop.

"Nah, was my fault too." Fez replied, looking straight ahead. 

That wasn't true. She had been the one to come there, to make a fool of herself. It was not his fault.

"No, it was me. I really shouldn't have.. Like, I shouldn't have come at you like that." She retorted, and Fezco now looked over at her.

"Lex, you wasn't sober. I was." He scoffs, and Lexi shakes her head. 

"That doesn't even matter. I'd had some drinks, yeah, but I honestly sobered up pretty soon after I like, invaded your house." She tried to chuckle. Tried to make it funny. But it really wasn't, it was painful. The stern look on Fezco's face didn't make her feel any better, and she shushed herself, trying to find a better way to explain herself.

"I misread the situation. With my stupid, selfish mind I misinterpreted your kindness and I... I thought you had feelings for me too, for a second there. But I was out of line." 

It was out. Her confession, up in the air, hanging over their heads. She hadn't wanted to say it, but Lexi had said it anyway. Maybe now was the right time. Her words were heavy, too heavy to bear witness to the light of day. They needed to be said in the darkness of the night, where they could easily slip away into the starry night sky and be forgotten the next morning. 

Fez huffed. "Fuck, Lexi."

Perhaps he had not wanted to know about her feelings, but Lexi knew it was better this way. This way Fez could slowly push her away, kindly, gently, knowing that they weren't supposed to be together, knowing that he wasn't looking for the same things she was. 

She stayed silent, giving him time to rethink all the moments he regrets his kindness, he regrets his friendship, he regrets his honesty with her. She knew he did. She knew he had to be disgusted. He couldn't even look at her.

"I thought you was just drunk..." Fezco then spoke up. His words lingered in the air, and for a moment, Lexi thought Fez would've liked to have a jumpseat to shoot him straight out of the car. He looked like absolute death. "Thought I was just, takin' advantage of you, fuck." He cussed again. 

Lexi shook her head. "If any one of us took advantage of the other, it was me. I've like, wanted to kiss you for months." She bit her lip, knowing her head was flushed red. Fezco had kept his eyes on the road, but now turned towards her.

"Nah, 'cause, shit, Lex. I wanted it too!" Fezco yelled. His hands clasped onto the wheel more tightly, "You really fuckin' thought you misread the situation? I fuckin' misread the situation. Hell nah, Lex, I was thinkin' I was the one with feelings while you were just drunk. Scared me to death when I thought of that right after kissing you," Fez was promptly blurting out.

She rapidly felt her heartbeat increase as she let the words rush through her. The entire day had been a bit too much for her. It was messing with her mind. Things weren't making sense to her anymore. And seeing Fez yell the way he did just then, was the last straw. She felt hot tears running down her face.

Did he just say he, Fez, had feelings for her, Lexi? She wondered if this was some sick dream, playing on her twisted fantasies. First, Fez shows up to be her knight in shining armor, saving her from some perverted weirdo, and then, he suddenly confesses his feelings for her? It sounded too much like some cliché, corny fanfiction she read at the age of 12. 

"Are you... Are you serious?" She sniffed. 

"Lex, are you cryin'? 'M sorry if I said something wrong, I really didn't mean to..." He trailed off, and looked at her again. He looked worried. "No, it's not-- It's not you, it's just, like, everything. I'm tired." She tried to assure him. 

"Hmm," He mumbled, "We almost at your house." 

Lexi leaned her head onto the window. She really wanted to talk with Fez, like, really ask him what it was he wanted. She wanted to know where'd they go from here. If he truly had feelings for her too, then what? 

"But I do want to say I really was serious, ma. I care 'bout you, as more than just a friend. Like, Lexi, you mad smart and shit. And you pretty, like crazy. You always wearin' cute clothes, lookin' good, bein' funny as hell. How could I not fall in love with that?"

It felt like there were actual butterflies inside her stomach. Like, if a doctor were to cut her open and they were to fly out, she would not be surprised. It felt like they were just fluttering around everywhere, sending weird sensations all over her body. It was insane how just his words could do that to her. 

She was pulled out of her thoughts by the sight of her own driveway, and she wondered how she'd gone without Fez for the past couple of days. Just knowing that she'd leave off to be alone in her own bed in a few minutes, made her miss him already. 

They both got out of the car when he pulled up to the house. Fez got her bike out of his trunk, and walked with her to her front porch, were Lexi put her bike down. "Fez, I-- I wanna talk to you about this. I thought I'd lost you after Wednesday night, I don't want to lose you, I love you," She whispers, and is scared by her own words. 

She knows that love is a big word, she can feel it in her chest, but she does actually feel like over the past few months, she's truly fallen in love with him. It started out as a crush one day when they were sitting on some old couch, but then she fell in love with him sometime later, while sitting on another old couch. 

Fez put his arms around her, pulling her into an embrace. Lexi buried her head into his chest, allowing herself to close her eyes for a second and rest in his arms. A warm, intense feeling filled Lexi. She realized that was the feeling she'd been looking for all her life.

#fexi #lexi x fez #fez x lexi #fanfiction #euphoria

[patrineptn]

Far From Home

Summary: Kagome is never too far from trouble, it seems. After moving to America to start over, she ends up in Hawkins just as strange things start to happen. Fandom: Inuyasha x Stranger Things (Ch 4) Crossover

Also available on FF.Net and AO3

Chapter 02

The cold of the tiles on the bathroom’s floor and the sour taste of bile on her mouth woke Kagome up. She licked her dry lips and blinked a couple times before finding the strength to assess her surroundings. Her head hurt from hitting the floor and there was a remaining strain on her muscles. She wrinkled her nose at the smell of puke and dried sweat. The light coming from the window stated that many hours have passed.

Kagome took a warm bath, using the water to relax her mind and limbs. There was still a lingering malicious aura, although now it was barely perceptible. She could feel it but not locate it no matter how much she concentrated. Eventually, she gave up and got dressed.

It was late in the morning when she turned on the TV. The breaking news was that someone had been murdered the night before. The details given were vague, only that it happened at Forest Hills Trailer Park and that it was a female student from Hawkins High School. A name popped in her mind: Chrissy. Then last night’s memories came back and dread filled her.

Kagome mentally cursed. She remembered seeing Eddie sneaking out to his van with Chrissy not far behind. They were careful about not being seen together, but the dreading aura surrounding the cheerleader was impossible to overlook. She didn’t think much of it, though, it wasn’t her business. However, now it got her thinking. If something happened to Chrissy, was Eddie safe? They only mentioned one victim, so he must be missing or running away - which didn’t help his situation because he would be the first suspect.

As much as she trusted her guts that he wasn’t capable of mauling someone, Kagome would only be sure when talking to him. She assumed - and believed - in his innocence, but there was always the possibility she was being naive. 

The priestess stood on the border of the forest, closed her eyes and concentrated. She expanded her ki the farthest she could, reaching the Trailer Park and Downtown. She found Jeff and Gareth; a group of people near she didn't recognize - which she assumed was where Chrissy died and the unknown people where journalists; people coming and going from their appointments, but no Eddie. She huffed. She didn’t know him enough to guess where he could be hiding. However, she knew someone who could help.

Kagome found Dustin inside Family Video with Max Mayfield, Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley. She rushed through the door in time to listen to Dustin complaining that Steve wasn’t helping enough to find Eddie.

“You don’t know where he is!?” The words left Kagome’s mouth before she could think properly.

“Kagome! What are you doing here? Oh, and these are Steve, Robin and Max.”

Kagome smiled and gave them a short bow. Steve frowned, Robin waved lightly and Max just stared at her. “I was hoping you would know where Eddie is.”

“Why do you want to know?” Dustin’s instance got defensive.

She walked to the balcony and signaled them to get closer. “I’m worried. Something happened last night,” Kagome whispered. They nodded. “And everyone will assume it was him just because he’s different, you know? But he’s not a bad person, I know he wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“See? Kagome has known him for a day and already agrees with me.”

“How do you know it wasn’t him?” asked Steve to Kagome.

"My instincts said so." Steve rolled his eyes.

"And we are supposed to blindly trust your instincts?"

"No, but you should trust Dustin. Aren't you friends?" Dustin looked at Steve with puppy eyes. 

“How can you doubt such a cute face?” pleaded Dustin.

Steve bit his inner cheek. “Whatever. It’s not as if we know how to find him anyway.”

“Maybe we do!” Robin blurted out. “Max said he stays at Reefer Rick’s house sometimes, right? If this Rick has ever rented a movie here, his address will be in the system.” After some guessing game, they found the most possible match, Rick Lipton, who lived near Lover's Lake.

The ride to the middle of nowhere took some time, and they arrived in the evening. The house had no lights on, and no one answered when ringing the bell or calling Eddie’s name. The flashlights through the windows also didn’t detect any life signs. Dustin kept slamming the door and calling for Eddie, Rick or anyone who would answer.

They gave up on Rick’s home and moved to the dock house, where a lamp was turned on above the door. Inside, it was dark, and nothing could be seen through the holes in the walls. Robin cracked the door open, talking out loud to alert anyone who could be inside of their presence. Only silence answered. 

In the middle of the room, there was a boat with a tarp inside. With an oar, Steve jabbed whatever was hiding under the tarp a few times. Max located some food packages and candy wraps over a table. 

Meanwhile, Kagome’s headache had returned. She knew Eddie was around, but in her state she could barely stand, much less talk. Hidden under the darkness of the shack, Kagome sat on the floor as her body grew heavy. Drops of sweat rolled down her back and chest. She closed her eyes for a moment and jumped to her feet when screams filled the room.

Eddie had pressed Steve against the wall, a broken bottle held too close to his throat. Dustin shouted Eddie’s name, begging him to stop and claiming their friendship. Steve let go of the oar. Eddie turned, the sharp edge still on Steve’s neck, and assessed the newcomers.

“We’re here to help,” declared Robin.

“We are friends. There’s Kagome; you remember her, right? From yesterday? Cool. That’s Steve, this is Robin, from the band, and Max, that friend that never wants to play D&D.” They smiled and waved as Dustin listed their names. “I swear on my mother that we are on your side.”

Eddie finally released Steve, who ducked away in a blink. Dustin gave him time to recompose before asking for his version of the events. What impressed Kagome was that the others just listened, unfazed, as Eddie described how Chrissy’s bones snapped and her eyes exploded inside their holes. 

Eddie’s voice cracked as he recalled the previous night. Tears pooled in his eyes. His face contorted as the memories of Chrissy's gruesome death resurfaced. Kagome, ignoring her distress and the audience, hugged Eddie.

“It’s not your fault,” she whispered in his ear. “There was nothing you could have done. I’m glad you’re safe.”

Eddie stayed motionless for a moment. His held his breath before hugging her back. He weeped on her shoulder. No words were exchanged until he murmured his gratitude. 

“We believe in you.” The others said. Eddie scoffed. Kagome took his hand on hers and squeezed it.

“Look, Eddie, and Kagome, since you are involved now.” Kagome frowned and mouthed ‘me?’. “I know it will sound crazy, but hear me out. Hawkins is kinda cursed. You know the tragedies that plagued the city in the past few years?” The duo nodded. “They aren’t just a morbid coincidence. There’s another world packed with monsters that we thought to be gone.”

“But if they are back, we must know,” said Max.

“Did you see anything? Dark particles, like dust?

“No. I haven’t seen anything, only Chrissy- Hey, you okay?” Kagome’s body trembled. Her hand squeezed his. “Kagome?”

“Do you think it’s happening again?” said Max.

“The lights are normal,” answered Dustin.

“What did you say? She’s mumbling something,” said Eddie. “I can’t understand you, babe.”

A shocking wave passed through Kagome. She snapped her eyes open, let go of Eddie and ran, barely crossing the door before she spilled her stomach’s content. Robin hurried after her and held back her hair as she puked. 

Several minutes passed in silence as the group waited for Kagome to recover. The pain rescinded as the evil energy disappeared from her senses. With Robin and Max's aid, she came back to the house and sat on a pile of boxes. Steve handed her a tissue.

“I think…” said Kagome between breaths, “someone else died.”

“What the fuck?! How do you know?!” Shouted Dustin.

“Last night, I felt energy just like now. I wasn’t prepared for something so malicious. It was overwhelming with murderous intent. I remember someone calling Chrissy’s name and a lot of fear. Then everything was black and I woke up with the sun already up. When I saw the news, I put the pieces together. I knew it wasn’t Eddie, but I had no doubt he would be the first suspect. Then I found you and we found him. This time, however…” Kagome’s eyes watered, “no one called for this guy. He was so scared…” Tears ran down her cheeks. “I don’t know his name, but I remember him from school. Fair skin, glasses, a scar on his face.”

“That’s Fred Benson! I’ve had some classes with him before. Nerdy, always after Nancy,” said Robin.

“Anyone knows where he lives?” Asked Steve. “No one?”

“Maybe Nancy knows. I think they work together,” suggested Max.

“What are we waiting for? Let's go.”

“What about me?” asked Eddie.

“You’re coming with me,” said Kagome.

“But the police are probably looking for him! He should be hiding!” said Steve.

“That’s why we are giving him an alibi. If anyone asks, he was with me last night,” proclaimed Kagome. “And we spent the whole night together.” Eddie’s cheeks colored.

“And the cops will just believe you?”

“Yes, because Dustin saw us going home together after the game.”

‘I did?” asked Dustin. Kagome nodded.

“And what was Chrissy doing at Eddie’s place then?” asked Max.

“Who knows? That’s the sheriff’s job to find out.”

#inuyasha #inuyasha crossover #inuyasha fanfic #inuyasha fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things crossover #kagome higurashi #eddie munson #dustin henderson #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #steve harrington #fanfiction #fanfic #crossover fanfic #crossover pairing #kagome