#ok back into the coffin I go
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"You're the princess, daddy! Lie down, go to sleep and we'll save you!"
Inspired by this lovely dadstarion fic by @wilteddreamsofbaldursgate ✨
I got sick and was for all intents and purpose dead but this was so good I came back to life briefly to do this sketch. Y'all should check it out!
Also, it made me think of the song "King" by Lauren Aquilina and now I'm drowning in the feels.
#ok back into the coffin I go#astarion please take care of me#astarion#dadstarion#astarion headcanons#bg3 astarion#i think I'm finally getting a hang of drawing this infuriating man#art#wip#miri
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"so you're going to die alone?" I mean, unless you're planning some collective suicide or something, aren't we all?
#random stuff on my account like usual#dying alone#imagine how expensive a coffin for more than one person would be#the concept of dying together sounds way weirder than dying alone like#aro#aromantic#aromantism#i remember once back in 2015 thus girl in a chat questioned everyone if they liked girls or boys +#+and i was like 'i don't think i like neither' and she immediately went 'so you're going to die alone??' very concerned+#+and i remember not even knowing how to reply and i because i didn't know about being aro or everything i just said 'i don't know???'#+i said 'i just don't find people attractive' and she was like 'oh. ok that's normal doesn't mean you'll never fall in love'#and i thought 'yeah. maybe.'#but i always thought this obssession with dying alone was such nonsense#like why would i care? I'll be dead
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I can’t believe it ended there.
#people of earth#i know i know i KNOW#i shouldn't have gotten attached when I knew it got canceled#but that was pretty much the darkest possible place they could end on lmaoo#spoilers:#ozzie is dead. don is evil. kurt probably just died again. jeff is a tiny alien hiding in a dumpster from a dog.#walsh and the twins are absolutely powerless to do ANYTHING#and the whole crew has been abducted like. things Could Not Be Worse#also think the cube strapped gerry down on ozzie's coffin??? which. not cool.#i did read the season 3 summary they posted and apparently they make walsh sacrifice himself in the end and bring ozzie back as an 8y old#and since those are my two favorites maybe it's Fine that it ended like this#altho i'd rather he be back as an 8 year old than johnathan fucking die#altho that would end his arc perfectly#but also u can end arcs in things other than death!!! people can grow and change and then STAY alive#and make up for the things they did#also he didn't do anything *that* bad#ok i've done nothing but watch this all day so i had to get my feelings out#might go cry some more about ozzie
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ok fine maybe i DID come back wrong. what are you going to do about it. kill me? put me back in the ground? after all this effort? all this pain and suffering only to find out bringing me back wasn't worth it after all? you worked so hard. are you going to waste all of that just because im not what you wanted? just because i belong only to myself? are you going to let me pick out my own coffin
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ok listen so i saw this tiktok where this girl was at a concert and the singer gave her his ring to hold for a song and then didn’t take it back and i knew i had to steddie-fy it. enjoy!
Steve didn’t know what he was doing there.
Robin had dragged him along to this bar to chaperone for her date with some metalhead girl, but sometime during the night she had disappeared into the bathroom to go make out with said girl, and Steve had been left alone at the front of the crowd.
Look, he never said he was a good chaperone, alright?
And now the next band was coming out.
Corroded Coffin stepped onto the stage, and Steve felt his mouth go dry.
The guy in front, the lead singer, was the hottest fucking guy he had ever seen.
He had dark, curly hair, was dressed in skinny-as-hell jeans, and his shirt had the sleeves cut off, as well as most of the seams on the side. When he raised his arms, Steve caught a glimpse of ink under the shirt.
The guy wrapped a ringed hand around the neck of his guitar, smiling devilishly at the crowd. “Ready for the most metal concert ever?”
The crowd screamed their approval, and Steve screamed along with them, not knowing what the fuck he was doing. He knew he looked so out of place among them, his soft yellow sweater a spotlight against the sea of black clothing and silver chains.
The singer strummed an experimental note, then frowned down at his hands. “Dammit, wore the wrong ring today.” He slid a ring off his right knuckle, then peered at the crowd. “Here.”
He pointed at Steve, whose heart froze. He tilted his head. “Me?”
“Yeah.” He lobbed the ring at Steve underhanded, who caught it gently. “Hold that for the rest of the show, alright, pretty boy?”
The guy backed up and started the count for his band, but Steve didn’t even hear when they started to play. He was too busy staring at the ring, turning it over and over again in his hand. It was a cool silver, with an amber stone inlaid in it.
He slid the ring onto his pinkie.
“Holy shit, Steve!” came a familiar voice in his ear. It was Robin, hair messed up and makeup smeared. “These guys are good!”
He laughed. “I see you had fun.”
“Steve. Steeeve. She is so fucking hot, dude.” Robin said, splaying over his shoulder. “She went to- where’d you get that?”
She was looking at the ring.
“Uh,” Steve said dumbly. “He gave it to me.” He pointed up at the lead singer, whose hair was flying everywhere as he belted into the mic. His voice was amazing, like a wrecking ball crashing through Steve’s heart.
“No fucking way.” came a voice from Steve’s other side. Robin’s date, Emily or Amelie or something like that, he couldn’t quite remember, said. “Eddie Munson gave you a ring?”
“Yeah?” Steve said. He plucked the cup out of her hands and passed it to Robin, who drained it. “Why?”
“Because he never takes them off. There’s band interviews of them where his band mates are complaining because Eddie won’t share. And he just gave you one?”
A particularly loud stomp broke them out of their trances and made Robin fall off Steve’s shoulder. Eddie must have seen they weren’t paying attention, and decided to make them pay attention, by jumping and landing right by Steve’s head.
Steve jolted back up, staring directly into Eddie’s eyes.
Eddie winked.
Steve felt his face grow hot, and even though he tried to tell himself it was only the stage lights reflecting onto his face, he knew that wasn’t it.
Corroded Coffin may not have been Steve’s taste in music, but he couldn’t deny they were good. Eddie, of course, stole the show, his undeniable stage presence drawing everyone in.
Including Steve, of course.
By the time the set was over, Corroded Coffin packed up their shit and left the stage. Steve was preoccupied with getting home.
As the two of them exited the bar in a stream of other patrons, he looked down at his hand.
The ring Eddie had given him was sitting innocently on his pinkie, twinkling up at him.
“Shit.” he whispered.
“What?” Robin asked. “Steve, what is it?”
“His ring. I think I was supposed to give it back at the end of the show.”
“Aw, really?” Robin said. “And here I was thinking he proposed.”
Steve shoved her, then dragged her out of the way of the doors. “Shut up, I gotta return this before he reports it as stolen.”
“I think the only thing that’s stolen is my heart.” someone said from behind him.
Steve whipped around.
Eddie.
“That was…really, really corny.” Steve said, trying to regain his footing. His entire brain was screaming “HOT BOY” at him, so it wasn’t really working. He thought he made a valiant effort, though. Robin had slunk off to hide somewhere and watch from afar, the traitor.
Eddie shrugged. “Eh, opportunity came up, had to take it.” He held out his hand to shake. “Eddie Munson.”
Steve took it. “Steve Harrington.”
He slid the ring off his finger and made to drop it into Eddie’s hand, but Eddie held up a hand. “Listen, I’ve decided you can keep it, but only if I get your number in return.”
“Really?” Steve crossed his arms, balling the ring into his fist. The cold metal pressed against his palm. “I’ve heard from one of your fans that you don’t even share your rings with your band mates. Why do I get one?”
“Let’s just say I’m curious about why a guy dressed like he just got out of a PTA conference is in my metal audience.” Eddie said.
Steve looked down at his sweater. “Okay, listen, it wasn’t a PTA meeting.” he said. “It was a bake sale.”
Eddie laughed. “Even better, Jesus. You’ve got to tell me more.”
“I’m free for lunch around one?” Steve offered.
“Perfect.” Eddie tapped his phone and offered it to Steve to put in his contact. “Text you soon, pretty boy.”
Steve was so preoccupied with watching him walk away, he didn’t realize he still had the ring.
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Whenever Corroded Coffin play at a new venue, getting bigger every time Eddie is the only one with demands and the list is simple.
Eddies princess gets anything they want.
The guitarist always looks particularly intense and the heart of the venue coordinator always sinks in the face of another potential diva groupie.
"My princess gets everything and anything to make them comfortable. I don't care what it costs or takes. Got it?"
So the coordinator tries to prepare for anything; bottles of expensive champagne on standby, the purest water they can find, plush cushions in the green room and dressing rooms.
But the groupie never shows, just a guy in yellow sweater that politely thanks everyone, stays out of the way and smiles widely at the band as they give everything to the stadium crowd they were playing for that evening.
They watch as Eddie descends into the back room after the encoure and grins at the guy.
"Princess! You made it." He takes the man's face in his hands and kisses him softly like he was made of spun glass. "You OK? Do you have everything you need?"
Steve has anxiety, and Eddie is an overprotective little fucker.
*now with a little part 2....
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tumblr in the 1900s simulator
🎀 basilgillgirlie
HELPPP i went to see a country girl and i SWEAR coffin looked directly at me while he was singing no. 19 😳😳😳
#im going to DIE #oh my godddd #hayden coffin tag #theatre tag
( 5 notes )
🪮 tortoiseshelllll
honestly just go ahead and block me if you're still not against the consumption of intoxicating liquors /srs
#temperance discourse
( 7 notes )
🤵♂️ h0ney-b0y 🔁 in-my-merry-oldsmobile Follow
💁♀️ soshineonharvestmoon Follow
Alright, let's settle this once and for all:
Do cylinders or discs produce the clearest sound?
Cylinders⬜ 21.2%
Discs🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦 78.8%
Final result from 18,796 votes
🐶 yourwildirishrose Follow
literally who is voting for cylinders. #discsweep
#poll results that would give thomas edison neurasthenia
( 3,419 notes )
👨 lawrenceseldens 🔁 the-thing-with-feathers86 Follow
☕ the-thing-with-feathers86 Follow
hey. everyone. TAG YOUR HOUSE OF MIRTH SPOILERS!!!!! not all of us are able to keep up with the installments, especially ppl employed at factories/others who work 10+ hour shifts
#!!! #the house of mirth #edith wharton #scribner's magazine
( 102 notes )
🌌 impastolover 🔁 le-modernisme Follow
🔘 ilythomascole-deactivated19061203
There’s NO WAY you people are still supporting H*nri M*tisse after he posted THIS
🌈 chezlesfauves Follow
does this scare you
🌈 chezlesfauves Follow
i guess so lmaooo
#i wonder if op knows about la femme au chapeau…
( 10,675 notes )
🌻 emancipation-waist-official 🔁 localhoyden Follow
🐈⬛ localhoyden Follow
friendly reminder that it’s perfectly ok for women and girls to wear corsets if they want to!! don't ever let anyone make you feel ashamed for it - it's your choice, you can do whatever makes you happy 💗
🌻 emancipation-waist-official
Go outside.
( 984 notes )
👰 kittybristolsgf
i know it's been less than a decade since uh. you know. but can anarchists please go back to assassinating public figures and bombing government buildings and such all the time already, i have had ENOUGH
#the latest tariff law that was passed.... wtf #(for legal reasons this is a joke) #(please don't have me electrocuted <3)
( 2 notes )
🦚 fancyfeathers
Just got my widest hat yet!! An entire owl can fit atop it!
( 51 notes )
🏓 whiffwhaffwagerer
at the marathon in st. louis!👍 what is happening
#so the original winner cheated i guess #and the actual winner had to be carried over the finish line and is currently being treated by *several* doctors #also apparently some of the competitors are missing #...i'll keep you all posted?
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🧳 thatkeenmotorist 🔁 thatkeenmotorist
🧳 thatkeenmotorist
driving my motor-car 😁
🧳 thatkeenmotorist
broken chain ☹️
🧳 thatkeenmotorist
driving my motor-car 😁
🧳 thatkeenmotorist
broken belt ☹️
🧳 thatkeenmotorist
driving my motor-car 😁
🧳 thatkeenmotorist
broken chain again ☹️
( 99 notes )
💃 lilyelsieinthemerrywidow 🔁 thegreat-trainrobbery1903 Follow
💃 lilyelsieinthemerrywidow
hey um whats going on in the balkans right now 😨 do you think theres going to be a war in europe soon im nervous
🙎♂️ thegreat-trainrobbery1903 Follow
well, a major war caused by a crisis in the balkans has been speculated on for a while. but it'll probably only last about a year like the war of 1870, plus you don't even live near the balkans, i wouldn't worry too much
💃 lilyelsieinthemerrywidow
yeah youre probably right
#and if it did reach us it would most likely be beneficial anyway #<-prev
( 13 notes )
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HC about Dr ratio with a short lyney reader! (Can be fem or gn or male!! Ur choice)
Can u uh do smut if ur ok with it???
U can Decline this request if ur not comfortable, i understand!
Aaa I’m not going to decline since I need more Dr. Ratio brainrot >:)
Note that I can’t really think about like mini HC so I’m going to give you bite sized fics <3
18+ Cuffs, Fingering (gn reader!)
SFW
Dr. Ratio is a man of science, he’s rational so the idea of magic seems interesting to him. He knew these magic tricks of yours has logical explanation behind it so he would like to inspect it first hand
So from time to time he likes to watch you practice and give his own personal input, like today for example !
He came to visit you in your workshop, you were perfecting a new trick and you wouldn’t mind the criticism Ratio might have, it has always helped you improve your tricks
“If you angle the sword this way it’ll definitely let the audience figure out the secret behind it,” he whispers beside his your ear as he leans down, his face so close to your neck while his arms caged your frame against the coffin like construct of your upcoming magic trick
“Ahh it seems that I accidentally made the master magician turned red,” he chuckles before pressing a kiss on your cheek
NSFW
It’s a normal thing to have him drop by your workshop when he’s free, but he texted you that sadly he can’t come today due to an urgent meeting
It’s fine of course!, to be honest this new trick of yours is kind of complicated and you need someone to supervise you but Ratio isn’t here so might as well take it as a chance to test your skill !
It’s just an easy escape act, just uncuffing yourself with a pin but the kick is your hands are cuffed to your back whilst your body is strapped down into a desk that is also locked
So it’s a double lock situation, first the cuff and then the harness that locks your waist onto the tall desk, to give a helpless illusion, since you are quite short you’re going to look like you’re floating !
Everything was going smoothly until you accidentally dropped the pin you were going go use to uncuff yourself, ahh this is so embarrassing !
You knew that your sister would probably search for you after sometime since you always come home right on time, thank god that is only your sister that’s going to see you at this embarrassing state
You start to relax your muscles let you start to daydream waiting for your sister to come, after almost half an hour heard the door opens ah thank god she noticed you early on, your body is starting to go stiff !
“Ahh siss !, help me out over here I accidentally dropped the pin and now I can’t uncuff myself,” you whine as you swing your legs, ah you don’t want to see your sister face right now
You never heard a reply from her, just the sound of ominous steps getting closer and closer “Ah how embarrassing,”
Oh no….it’s Dr.Ratio
You felt his big hand resting on the harness that straps you down towards the desk, he rest his hand there as he leans towards your ears “It seems you need to practice more,”
“Dr. Ratio please don’t tease me, I’m dying from embarrassment here !,” you whine as you struggle to get myself
“How can’t I where you’re so adorably stupid,” he chuckles as he crouched to get the pin but he puts in on his pocket instead
“Why are you here anyways, you told me you couldn’t come,”
“I just finished my meeting quickly to meet a certain someone and it looks like I’m came in like a rather sticky situation huh ?,” he smirks as he caress your wrist
“Yup and you sir could be my saviour !,” you try to act like you’re perfectly fine, you’re not of course
He just chuckles at your frail attempt at being unbothered about the whole situation “What would I get in return as a token of your appreciation ?,”
“Anything you want?,” you reply, getting too uncomfortable at the suspense
He hold you waist as he presses his clothed erection against you, “Can it be you ?,” he whispers as he leans down beside your ear
“Y-yes just get me out of here,” you whine as you grind against him
“Well I want upfront payment first so….”
“Ratio…”
Oh god he’s going to do it while you’re restrained isn’t he-
With a swift move he slid your pants until your ankle, he crouches before your nether region, his fingers trace your clothed hole making it wet from mere friction, you reply with a whine and a pout he considers too cute
“Yes yes won’t tease anymore,” he huffs before dragging your underwear down and stick his finger at your wet hole
“So tight…” he whispers as he thrust it slowly
“Nghnnn,” you could only hold back your moans hoping it wouldn’t get attention from the outside
“You’re going to let me fuck you like this right?,” he stood up, his hand curving itself inside you while his other hand pulled your cuffed wrist
“Yes,”
#honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail smut#dr ratio#dr ratio hsr#dr ratio x reader#dr ratio fluff#dr ratio smut#dr. ratio#dr. ratio x reader
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How I Imagine TWST Could Be If There Was A Female!MC - Staff Edition
part 2 of this I suppose
TW: Reader is female, period mentioned, bullying mentioned
Crowley, as mentioned, is a bit indifferent but puzzled at the new female student.
Not to offend, but you sure you crawled out of the coffin? You didn't throw out the original Student and replaced their body with yours, right?
He is half-joking by the way.
Well, it is what it is, and him being such a GRACIOUS AND GENEROUS PERSON will OF COURSE do all that he can to make you feel welcome and part of NRC!
Spoiler alert: he does so half-assed.
Will bring you any sort of thing you need and will offer both pants and skirts in all kinds of lengths for your uniform - long, short, frilly, straight, etc. As long as they fit with the jacket.
Since you came here with uh, NOTHING, he will also make sure that Sam stocks all kinds of things. While many things that are worn/needed are kinda basic/gender-neutral, he doesn't think of eeeeverything.
At the same time he kinda...paves you your own personal hell with good intentions. Introduces you to others like a good headmaster does while also underlining how VERY MUCH INDEED A GIRL YOU ARE. DING-DING-DING A YOUNG WOMAN IS GOING TO BE HERE FOR THE REST OF UUUUHHH WHENEVER I'LL BOTHER TO LOOK FOR HER HOME PLEASE BE NICE TO HER, OK?
When you might feel sick and report it to the headmaster he will of course, understand. Yet just as you are about to excuse yourself he GASPS and very genuinely and worriedly asks while whispering 'are you on your period...?'
Whether or not that is the case he will continue to reassure that that it is not something to be ashamed about AS THE ONLY GIRL HERE and he'll make sure you'll be fine.
Unironically would give you a wink, thumbs up and pats himself on the back for how GENEROUS HE IS HAH.
Would give you self-made help book: 'The Time I Got Transported Into A Magic All-Boys-Academy As The Only Magicless Girl'.
Crewel is uuuuuhhhh...
He eyes you up and down before asigning you to a pot. A pup is a pup and well-trained, diligent and especially, open-minded pups can learn anything.
Potionology especially can be learned by you, a magicless student! It requires understanding of ingredients and their magical attributes as well as magic itself a bit, but that's something you can learn!
He does not care if you are female or not. Students are meant to obey and he will not treat you any differently. Be well-behaved and listen - learn from this new environment and succeed.
He is a bit more strict with you since potionology does not require any magical skills (as far as I know). You can learn, you can adapt. Just be a good pup!
If you're doing awful, then he will be STRICT AS HELL. It's just that he truthfully believes you can learn and do better!
If you're doing good and maybe even improved, he'll be sure to praise you. Good pup! Very, very, well done!
Then he goes back to his strict self.
If he sees you being treated wrongly by others during HIS CLASS because you are a girl - he won't allow it. Will chastise the other student, ESPECIALLY IF YOU TEAMED UP, and will tell them of their awful behavior. Such things deserve punishment.
If you ever do better after such a situation, be sure Crewel will praise you loudly in a away to indirectly shove it into the student's face and let them know - 'This one did it despite being a girl and you thinking that is a reason to bully someone. No, you foolish Fido. You all are equal, inexperienced puppies.'
Be very afraid of Trein.
This guy does not c a r e who you are. A student of NRC is supposed to be diligent, punctual, listening, obeying, studious, tidy, neat, AND DON'T YOU EVER FORGET TO-
The list goes on and on.
There is the slight chance that Trein will be a bit...less strict when he takes into account that you are new to everything. You aren't familiar with either the history of magic nor the social status and affects it can have (hooh boy, you do know how much it affects-)
After classes he might take you to the side and ask how much you actually know of...magic, besides not being able to cast any. He will offer extra classes and books from the library to catch up. After that he BETTER be seeing you there often with a book in your hand. Will often check on you.
He doesn't mean any harm but he is very certain you need extra lessons to even be on the same level as the locals here. So he expects you to be extra hard-working!
After some time, the thought of you being so much left behind crosses his mind and he wants to speak after class with you again. This time about a different topic.
"Are you perhaps...being intentionally wronged in this school?"
He does not like to use the word 'bullied'. While he knows it does exist he'd rather not make any assumptions, especially because he thinks it's because you are the only female here.
It depends on you what is the truth.
In general he does take you being a young woman in an all-boys-academy as a fact and in the back of his mind while he teaches you. You and your studies might be affected due to this. Will often ask about you and how you are doing. He will take everything as truth, even if you lie since he expects you to be mature enough to do the right thing.
Though you seem to be around good and righteous young men, so he likes to believe you are doing well.
Might take Ace and Deuce to the side and tell them to look after you. Just a bit.
Ace will be like, 'yeah, yeah, don't worry, she's fine with us. Hah, in fact she'd be totally lost without us!'
Deuce is bobbing his head up and down, starry-eyed, 'yes, yes, yes, Professor! We'll do our best, she is safe with us. I SWEAR AS A FUTURE HONOR STUDENT-'
Vargas at the beginning pushes you as much as the others because how else could you spellcast?
Oh. You can't either way?
Hm.
After getting over that fact, Vargas takes your situation very seriously. If it is requested, Vargas will make sure to prepare sport uniforms you are comfortable with as well ask you if you are also comfortable with training with the other boys (it is nice to be asked but then again, what is he supposed to do if you say no? Give you private lessons after dark?).
He will internally let out a big 'phew!' if you say you do not mind training with them or training with a few close ones (the 1st year squad or anyone else you trust).
Is very understanding if you cannot partake due to your period. Will be sure to discreetly excuse you and ask a student you trust to escort you back to your dorm.
Will also bring in your own strength and capability into play. You may not be able to cast any magic, but that is not the only reason to grind!
Will often look over to you and how you're doing during lessons. Will immediately intervene if he sees any bullying or harrassment. That's not sporting or fair!
Will give a big thumbs up at any improvements or when you or others stand up for you. That's the spirit!
Sam is the one adult you know he always got your back.
The others are perfectly nice but Sam does not criticize, chastise or push you to your limits! Though he is part of the staff you feel like you can talk the most open with him.
Always asks about your day. Oh, it went well? Here, have this trinket as a memory keepsake. Oh, it was awful? Aw, shucks, take this treat, it'll cost ya...
That's usually how your conversations go.
Whatever you need, he got it for you. Makes sure he always has feminine products or anything else you might need in stock and will give you them behind the counter if you want to keep the exchange a secret and not so open to public.
Though he treats you like his other customers (kinda ripping you off), he does give you a few things for sale or free when you had a bad day due to you being the only girl here.
Tell him any secret! They are safe with him (for a price jk).
After all, there might be a few things you cannot or wouldn't want to tell your friends and Sam keeps his mouth shut whenever. So don't worry!
Grim is a little pain in the neck no matter who you are.
As mentioned, he doesn't really get why it's suuuuch a biiig deaaaal that you are here. So what if you're a giiirrrll? You're his minion either way and you ARE going to help him.
Once he gets that others pick on you, he'll get defensive. That is HIS minion and she's doing a great job no matter if magicless or not, no matter if girlie or not! Y'all better shut up before he burns you to a crisp.
Will defend you but since he's just some...monster cat no one takes him seriously. He tries though and does end up setting someone's hair on fire...which only brings you more trouble, so there's that.
#twst x reader#twst#twisted wonderland#Twisted wonderland staff#dire crowley#divus crewel#ashton vargas#mozus trein#Twst sam#Twst grim#f!mc#f!reader#fem reader
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Rambling headcanons about how Astarion's trauma could manifest in your relationship.
Disclaimer: I am not fetishizing trauma or PTSD here. I have C-PTSD myself, and have dated others with it as well. So some of this is (loosely) inspired by my own experiences. It's not pretty, it's not fun, but I'd say it's pretty realistic. So yeah, fair warning! Anyway, let's gooooo
Astarion isn't fazed by much, but he IS claustrophobic- having to claw your way out of your own coffin, being trapped in a mindflayer pod and being trapped in a tomb for a year straight would do that to anyone. If he is ever unfortunate enough to be stuck in a small space again, he'll go into a blind panic. He'll hyperventilate and try to force his way out any way he can, and if he can't get out in time he'll just completely mentally shut down for a bit. If you plan to pull him into a little broom closet for a sneaky fuck, just forget it ok? You will probably get your eyes accidentally clawed out.
There is a long period in your relationship where Astarion is gradually getting more comfortable with being vulnerable around you, but he's also very self-conscious about it. He doesn't want you to pity him or think he's weak. You will be tempted to give him lots of validation and praise to make up for all of the psychological abuse he endured, to reassure him that he's finally safe and free, and that you love him for more than just his body. That his problems won't ever drive you away, and that you don't judge him. He appreciates your words deeply, he wants and needs them more than he cares to admit. But at the same time, they completely overwhelm him. Finally being in a good place with a caring partner is such a stark contrast to what he's been through, that it forces him to see even deeper into the void inside him and recognize just how badly he was treated, how deprived he's been. They hit him hard in both good and bad ways, and sometimes he'll tell you to stop because he just can't handle feeling so much right now. It's best to stick to mostly surface level stuff and ease carefully into the deeper, more meaningful observations.
The sweeter your words, the more his mind races with fears that you are idealizing him and eventually you'll come to see him for what he really is- and then abandon him. Fears that he'll come to depend on your kindness only for it to be ripped away, whether by you or by circumstances beyond his control. Fears that you don't really mean it, that you're just manipulating him the way he did to others. Deep down he hopes and trusts you're sincere, but it's just so hard to accept when Cazador's voice is in his head, countering all of it. This is all so new to him, so unknown. And the unknown is terrifying. He gets frustrated that your kindness does this to him, he wants to be able to embrace your words, he's so impatient to heal and finally be over this shit already. He judges himself so harshly for still struggling with all this. Cazador's dead, he is free, he has someone who truly loves him- why isn't that enough?! Why can't he fully appreciate it, is he just going to feel broken forever? He worries he'll take too long to get over his past, and you'll get tired of it and leave. Expect to give him lots of reassurance about all of this.
He doesn't like to cry around you, but over time you will lower his guard enough that he'll stop fighting back the tears quite so much. Sometimes it's a bad dream, sometimes you say something that just hits him hard (even if it's in a good way), and sometimes he has no idea what triggered it. You tell him he can wake you up any time if he needs you, but often he chooses not to wake you and just suffers through it alone. When it happens while you're both awake, at first he would roll over and face away from you when the tears started flowing if he couldn't collect himself, and you'd just hug him from behind. But eventually he feels comfortable enough to bury his face in your chest and just let it all out. When it's really bad, he'll be trembling and hugging you so tightly as he sobs into your shirt that it's almost hard for you to breathe. The best thing you can do is just be there with him, stroke his hair, caress the tears off his cheeks. It can be dicey, but eventually you learn to read him well enough that sometimes stroking the scars on his back very gently can be healing for him. There are other times though, when this will be too much for him. Same goes for kissing. Also, don't even think about telling anyone you've seen him like this. But of course, why would you?
Don't go into therapist mode with him when he's that vulnerable, and if he decides to talk, just let him talk. Hold space for him and be there with him. Afterwards, help ground him in the present and reconnect him to his senses by pointing out things in the room, remind him that it's not all happening to him right now. Realize how special it is that he feels safe enough with you to be so vulnerable. There are times when he even breaks down during sex, and he'll say that he's fine and you can keep going, but it's for the best to stop what you're doing and check in instead. He often dissociates when he's triggered, and doesn't realize something is wrong until it's too late.
Trauma isn't always pretty, and there are times when it does strain your relationship. When he's really triggered, he might take it out on you. He'll try his best to push you away, and say terrible things he doesn't mean. Perhaps things Cazador said to him. His articulate manner of speech can be sharper than his blade when wielded against you in the heat of the moment. He doesn't believe you can love this side of him, that he is fundamentally broken and unlovable, so it's a test of sorts to prove his own fears. He doesn't necessarily realize what he's doing, he's just lashing out from a point of pure fear. Trauma is an explanation for this behavior, but not an excuse, so it's important you set very firm and consistent boundaries when he gets like this. He might not appreciate it in the moment, but he will once he calms down.
It takes some time for him to feel truly secure with you, but he's getting there. In the meantime, he's starting to get a little clingy and codependent. He's not used to having so much freedom, and doesn't always know what to do with himself when you're not around. Being in your presence is when he's closest to feeling safe and at ease, and being apart for too long can cause his mind to race, especially when he has nothing to distract himself with. It drives him crazy that it gets to him so much- he's never been dependent on anyone before, and this side of him surprises himself. He hates it, which only stresses him out more. He tries to play it off, but it's very obvious he is struggling with separation anxiety. You don't want to overindulge him, but to ease his fears you decide to get a pair of magical rings. You can make each other's rings glow whenever you want- so if Astarion is feeling lonely, he can make your ring glow and you can make his glow back. Sometimes, just that is enough to get him through a rough day without you. Once he has done some more healing, eventually he will come to enjoy his alone time in a way he's never gotten to before in his life, and as much as you enjoy spending time with him, you'll be so happy for him to finally have that.
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So I keep reading perv!Eddie recently...don't judge me 😂
And I had thoughts. Eddie has the hots for the reader, like pop a boner anytime he sees them kind of hots. How would he handle that? Would he go and handle it? Would he try to control himself? Would he try to sneakily get off somewhere he could still see you?
I'd love to know what you think 😈
You are not the only one who has been reading perv!Eddie, trust me 😈
Warning: perv!Eddie, swearing, male masturbation. 18+ minors DNI
Eddie was fucked. Totally, and completely fucked. It was Tuesday night, and you had come over to get ready before tagging along to the Corroded Coffin show at The Hideout.
When you walked in wearing a tiny black skirt and a top so low cut he was scared you were going to spill out of it, he knew he was in trouble.
He excuses himself to the bathroom while you did your hair and makeup, having popped a boner the second he saw you in that outfit. He slams the door shut and takes a deep breath, willing his erection to go down.
He stands with his back against the door, eyes closed, trying to think about anything other than burying his face in your cleavage. Or between your thighs. Or-
“Hey, do you have an extra hair tie?”, you yell from Eddie’s room.
He feels his cock kick in his pants at the sound of your voice and swipes his hand over his eyes in frustration. He reaches down to palm himself through his jeans, hissing as the already sensitive head scrapes against his boxers.
“Bedside table!”, he answers. His erection is never going to go away with you around unless he gives in and takes care of it. He undoes his jeans and shoves them and his boxers down, groaning as his fingers wrap around the base, squeezing gently. He watches as a fresh bead of precum bubbles from the slit, using it to slick himself as he pumps his fist.
As much as he wants to savor this, to take his time and think about dragging you back to his van after the show and fucking you until you scream, he’s pressed for time. He twists his wrist on the upstroke, head falling back against the door with a loud thud.
“Eddie? Are you ok?”, you call. You stood in front of his mirror on Eddie’s dresser, adding the finishing touches to your makeup.
“Y-yeah! Fine, I’m fine!”, he answers. His cock throbs at the sound of his name on your lips. He groans and tightens his grip, hips thrusting up into his fist.
You finished getting ready, packing up your makeup back and hairbrush before slinging your bag over your shoulder as you make your way into the hallway.
“Eddie! C’Mon, we’re going to be late!”, you shout, knocking on the bathroom door.
The slick sounds of his fist flying over his cock echo through the small bathroom, and he prays you can’t hear it from outside the door. “Ok! I’m coming. Fuck, I’m coming.” Eddie bites his lip to keep from moaning as he cums over his fist. He reaches out and grips the edge of the counter to steady himself, afraid his legs might give out as he catches his breath.
He washes his hands and makes sure he doesn’t look completely wrecked before opening the door. He’s greeted with the sight of you still in the pretty little outfit, now all dolled up. He feels his spent cock start to stir. Yeah, he’s fucked.
#eddie munson#eddie munson smut#eddie munson drabble#eddie munson x reader smut#eddie munson x reader#blurb weekend#Melissa writes#perv!eddie blurb#perv!eddie munson#tw: noncon
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Lost in You
T | 1,247 words
Prompt for @steddielovemonth: Love is when you look at his lips for half the conversation because you can't stop thinking about kissing him
Steve had a problem.
Or, no- Steve has a problem.
He did think it was a one off issue, something that would sort itself out if he just ignored it for a while. But, instead, it only seems to have gotten worse.
He really, really wants to kiss Eddie.
At first, he didn't think anything of his staring problem. The world was ending, people were dying, there wasn't time to worry about small things like that.
Although, even after they defeated Vecna, Steve continued to stare. He continued to dismiss it as a normal, totally platonic thing.
As Robin said; "it's almost embarrassing how long it took you to realize".
But, at the time, it had felt so normal. It still does.
Eddie's a good looking guy and Steve has eyes. Of course he's going to look at his best features. His lips just... are the one that draws his focus most of all.
He's sure that no one would blame him, either. With how full Eddie's lips are, how he tends to bite his lower lip when he's stressed, how he pouts so much when he's asking for favors, how he licks his lips whenever he looks Steve over, looking so plump and pink and-
... well. At least he knows he has a problem.
For a while, he thought that it was that simple. He had thought that he was doing a miraculous job of hiding how distracted he always gets, how he gets lost in the daydreams.
"And I know I'm boring," Eddie says, casually. "But-"
"Wait, what?" Steve interrupts, confused. "You're not boring, who said you're boring?"
"C'mon, don't lie to me, man. I know you hate how much I drone on about shit."
"No, I don't? If I didn't like hearing your rants and that then I wouldn't ask about those things."
Eddie huffs, looking always, shoulders hunching as he mutters, "coulda fooled me."
"Eds, where the hell is this coming from?"
"You don't listen to me!" He explodes. "You just- I don't know. Your fucking eyes glaze over half the time- and I know you don't care about this shit but could you at least pretend?"
"Wh- oh. Oh, no, that's... that's not because I think you're boring, I swear."
"Why then?"
"That... I don't know if I should say."
"Right," Eddie mumbles, shaking his head. He gets up, grabbing his jacket off the armchair next to him. "Of course you can't."
"Wait, where are you going?
"Away from you."
"But- I just don't get it right now. Like, I need time to figure some shit out, you know? I don't wanna tell you one thing now and then have to take it back later. You know? It's... complicated."
Eddie pauses, before slowly turning back to look at him.
"You just need time?"
"Yeah. That's it, I swear."
"And then you'll tell me what the fuck this is about?"
"Promise."
But, uncomfortable and uncertain, Eddie keeps his distance after that. He is careful to avoid group hangouts, using Corroded Coffin or Hellfire or his uncle as an excuse when needed.
He even lies about being ill one time.
It only serves to make Steve feel guilty about his own confusion. Especially considering he's no closer to figuring his mind out than he was when they spoke.
He has to get it right though. He's not sure they'd be ok if Steve assumes he wants to kiss Eddie because he wants to date him, only to later realize it's only lust.
Steve's sure that it would sting just as much to assume that it's only lust and later, when it's too late, to realize it's love.
"That sounds like a terrible idea," Lucas points out.
Out of everyone Steve thought would figure out why Steve and Eddie were so tense all of a sudden, he didn't think it would be one of the kids.
"It's the best thing I can do right now," Steve points out.
"No, it's not?" Lucas frowns at him, expression a mix of frustration and disbelief. "The best thing you can do right now is talk to him. Actually tell him why you need time. Tell him that you're worried about disappointing him."
"I'm not gonna dump all this shit on him."
"Jesus, you're worse than Mike."
"Hey-"
"He doesn't know any of this, Steve. He's probably thinking of the worst case scenario. What if he thinks you're going to kick him out the party?"
"I can't do that," Steve can't help but snort. "Even if I wanted to, I don't have that sort of authority over you brats."
"Steve! He doesn't know that! You have to talk to him, soon. He's not going to wait forever when he doesn't even know that he's supposed to be waiting or what he's waiting for!"
"But what if-"
"No."
"What?"
"I have to pick up Erica. I've told you what you should do, so do it."
Lucas makes a shooing gesture at him once he's out the car and, reluctantly, Steve turns the car around.
He heads to the trailer park.
"Hey," Eddie greets, looking him over. "You had enough time now?"
"Sort of," Steve winces. He shifts, glancing behind Eddie. "Is your uncle home? We should... talk."
"He isn't," he steps back, gesturing Steve inside.
Steve steps inside, hovering in the middle. He turns when he hears the door click shut.
"I have a problem," he blurts. "I mean, uh... Robin has always teased that I never know if I love a girl or just want... but that's- I was worried that I was, uh, maybe doing that with you? And I don't want to rush into anything or have this turn out like-"
"Woah, woah, woah. Slow down, big boy, you've already lost me. What does this," he waves his hand between them, "have to do with the girls you date?"
"Everything. Eddie, I'm not ignoring you because you're boring, I can't stop... I can't stop thinking about you."
"What?"
"You've got really nice lips, dude."
Eddie blinks at him, eyebrows disappearing behind his fringe. "What?"
"What do you mean, what? I know you like me, it's why I don't want to rush into anything and then later realize it was just, like, lust. I can't do that to you, Eds."
"So, wait, ok," Eddie waves his hands around, face scrunched and voice high. "Wait. You've known that I like you this whole time?!"
"Yeah? It's fine, I don't mind, it's no big deal."
"It's no- what the fuck, Steve!"
"Was I supposed to tell you that I knew?"
"No- or, yes- but not- ugh!"
"Whatever, ok, that's not the point! I just- I don't want you worrying and thinking this is because of anything bad. I still need time to figure this out."
"To figure out if you want to fuck me or not?"
"Oh, no, that's not a maybe, I definitely do. I just don't know if I might, like, love you too." Steve scratches his jaw, pondering on that while Eddie flails. "Well... I'm pretty sure there's a crush there at least. I don't usually get so distracted by the idea of just kissing that I check out of conversations."
"Fucking hell, Harrington, you're ridiculous."
"What-"
Eddie strides over to him, taking his face in both hands, cutting him off with a kiss.
It's barely more than a press of lips, but Steve feels alight.
It's better than his daydreams could have prepared him for.
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One day you're gone – Tommy Shelby
Let's just ignore the fact that songs are my biggest inspiration, ok? Alright. Inspired by "one day you're gone" by "gavn!". I know this is super angsty, but I think it's a beautiful fic, so please give it a chance. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: She died years ago, and yet he still dreams of her, forced to relive their moments together every single night
Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, loss of his wife (sorry for killing us off), this is sad, like really
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (1.3k words)
One day you're here and one day you're gone, you beat to the drum but you keep movin' on, ain't nobody knows when the next name's called, ‘cause one day you're here and one day you're gone
He dreamt of her, hands trembling from feeling his fingers interlaced with hers just moments before waking, heart racing from clinging to her like a blanket made to protect his shuddering body, lips tingling from kissing her breathless, at least in his dream.
Those were the nights where Tommy woke with a cry, unable to wipe away the tears clinging to his cheeks as he choked on his gasps. Ever since he had been a little boy, he had been forced to let go of people, a dull pain Tommy had slowly adapted to. Until (y/n) had been ripped from his side, leaving him and the life they had begun to build together.
He dreamt of her nightly, of their moments together, from childhood memories, to their wedding day. He saw it all so clearly as if he was watching recordings, though not in black and white and without sound, but full of colour. A bright splash of life like she had been, the light in his darkness, the colour in his grey life, the guiding hand that was now one with the soil he still felt clinging to his fingers.
“Today we mourn the loss of our (y/n), daughter, friend, wife.” Tears blurred Tommy’s vision as he stood near the coffin, hands interlaced in front of himself to try and stop his hands from trembling. He, Arthur, some of their friend’s and (y/n)’s father had carried the coffin up to the grave, unable to speak as the weight of their sadness weighed them down.
“Thomas.” The bucket filled with soil was reached out for him to take, forcing his eyes to find the dark ones of their pastor. With a shaky exhale leaving him, he let his fingers disappear in the cold soil, taking just enough to throw it down onto her coffin, covering a small part of the dark wood.
“How could you do this to me?” His voice carried exhaustion, speaking to those who were listening, the holy Father promising to protect those finding his way to him, people like (y/n) who had been ripped from this life too early.
Tommy rose to his feet as his fingers found a cigarette, alighting it before making his way out his empty bedroom. One of the places that held too many memories. One of the places he couldn’t part from just yet because his nose could still pick up on the scent of her perfume, because his eyes could still see her soft frame lying next to him, even though it had been years.
“Oh, Tommy.” She had her back arched off the mattress, legs wrapped around his middle. The two had gotten married hours ago, saying yes to one another in the company of their families and friends, finally reunited after the war. Tears had been shed that day, tears that were falling now once again, though these tears were urged on by desperation, by love, by lust.
His hips met hers with every thrust, drawing moans from (y/n) as his cock nudged her sweet spot. Tommy couldn’t rip his eyes from her features, the beautiful face he had thought of in France, clinging to his memories as if they were the oxygen he needed to survive.
“My beautiful wife,” his words left (y/n) moaning, walls fluttering around his cock. The scent of her perfume wrapped itself around Tommy, luring him even further into the grasp she had on his body and soul, a promise made to last for eternity, a promise broken in only a few months time.
“I love you, Thomas, I always will.”
Rain was pouring from the sky, as if nature was sharing Tommy’s pain, missing the one who had spent most of her time in their garden, the one who had talked to the flowers as if they were her friends, the one who had watched birds pick up the seeds she had left for them as if they were pilgrims sharing her path. A kind hearted soul who had paid the price for a life Tommy hadn’t been able to protect her from.
Tommy didn’t know how to make it through life without (y/n) by his side, he hadn’t lived a single day without her being part of his closest circle, glued together from birth, brought together by their mothers who had been friends for years. Ever since their first days together, Tommy had loved her, first as a friend, then as a lover, then as a husband, and now as a widower.
“Can I kiss you?” Tommy’s voice filled the evening, forcing her wide eyes towards his bright ones.
“What?” Nervous chuckles bubbled out of the young girl. She struggled to hold eye contact with Tommy, shifting her weight from one leg to the other, unable to rip herself away from the boy. It was Tommy’s fourteenth birthday, celebrating his day with (y/n) glued to his side, chasing him through the streets both knew like the back of their hands.
“It’s my birthday wish.” Heat flushed through her as Tommy carefully cupped her cheek. She knew that he had kissed other girls before, locking lips with those she envied, but not once had she been kissed, waiting for Tommy to finally give in.
“Do it.” His lips were on hers in an instant, drawing a surprised gasp from (y/n). It was a clumsy kiss both had to adjust to, but once her nerves finally let go of her, allowing the young girl to get used to the new sensation, she found herself enjoying the new feeling.
With a sigh rumbling through Tommy, he plopped down on the stairs leading up to their house, stairs she had walked with naked feet whenever she had finished her garden work. The garden had withered away with her passing as Tommy hadn’t found the strength to step foot on the grass she had cared for.
Whatever it was that now spurred him on, it forced Tommy back to his feet. The cigarette was long forgotten as he stepped foot on the wet grass, his shirt and underwear instantly soaked through by the pouring rain. He had his bright eyes focused on the weathered flowers, coming to a halt in front of one of many flowerbeds.
His hands started working, reaching for the dead flowers to rip them from the lifeless soil. And for the first time in years, he felt connected to (y/n), clinging to what she had once planted. Tears once again ran down Tommy’s cheeks as he kept working, only halting his movements as his glassy eyes found the rising sun painting the sky orange and pink.
“I’m sorry it took me this long, love.” The words were whispered, eyes unable to leave the sky as he made plans to revitalise their garden. He’d never be able to bring her back, but at least he could keep the memory of his loving wife alive.
Broken bones, you live and learn, ‘cause we don't know that a good thing ends, but someday I hope that it'll all make sense, one day you're here and one day you're gone
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ok but can I talk of the little bits of foreshadowing that led up to Phil's kids being used against him once again
the broken trapdoor and the missing objects, his talk with fit and how he would love his kids no matter what they were, him bringing signature items that represents his kids to the event, spending all day going "chayanne would've loved this" "Tallulah will like this when she comes back" "today is her birthday" "chayanne would've been excited to cook for today", seeing chayanne's floatie being the only thing displayed in the middle of the maze, making his mental state more unstable as he blamed himself for not finding anything that could lead them closer to his kids
to the final nail in the coffin that was the bait chest in his basement, the slight glimmer of hope and total desperation of having his kids back, not even considering the implications of having to leave all his stuff behind just because maybe this might lead to his kids, they are the world to him so he wouldn't even hesitate to drop everything for them
but his instincts were what lead him to his doom, lowering his guard and ending up in a trap he totally could've escaped from if he wasn't so desperate to have his family back, leaving him more broken than he was in a sick twisted retaliation from his actions, his warning coming to bite him back tenfold
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Hiii cherry♥️ i have a request for simon🙃🫠 ok so smth where they kidnap his civilian wife and he's losing his mind trying to find and save her😣😫 also she's pregnant but he doesn't know🥲 love your writing mwah mwah💋💋♥️♥️
Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader
Warnings: Angst(???), Mentions of Kidnapping, Mentions to Simon’s Trauma, Happy Ending
Summary: His worst fear has come true.
Word Count: 1.5K (Unedited)
He’s loosing his fucking mind.
Of course, right when he got comfortable. Right when all these fears started to melt away. Right when he was happy and he had a family again. Everything always goes to shit for him. He can't have a single good thing. History repeats itself. Again and again and again. He should have known. He should have known better. He knew better. He shouldn’t have gotten close to someone again.
Six good years. Six peaceful years.That’s what he got. Six years without any threats, or blackmailing, or discovering. Six years of learning how to love and be loved. Six years of finally having a home again. Six years isn't enough. He wants more damnit. If you’ve taught him anything, it's that he deserves more. And he’d be damned if he didn’t fight for it. Fight for you. But in order to do that he has to fight through this… this fog in his head. This murky fuzziness that shadows in the corners of his mind. It makes his trained focus wane.
He can’t focus on anything for more than a few minutes. He’s zoning out. One second he’s thinking strategies in a briefing room, then his eyes are floating past Price’s shoulders and he’s looking at the fucking wall. You’re missing and all Simon, or Ghost, or he can do is look at the fucking concrete walls like a fucking idiot. Any sounds are just white noise, a soft, distant buzzing. He doesn’t process anything. It’s not going through one ear and out the other. No, it’s not even reaching him. He’s not even thinking about anything as he sits there. It’s all just blank, empty.
He’s claustrophobic too. He can’t sit in a room for too long. Can’t stand too close to any single person. Fuck going to the mess for food or training or meetings or even being on base. He can’t even fucking spend more than an hour in his barrick before he can see the walls shrinking in on him. It makes his breath quicken and he races out of there quickly. But there isn’t anywhere else he can go. He can’t even stomach the thought of going to your shared home. He knows the second he steps in he’ll feel like a traitor, a murderer, and an accomplice to your abduction. He won’t survive that, he can’t. It feels like he’s back in that fucking coffin again.
He needs to get up and walk around. His body demands it. He… he needs to be doing something. He just doesn’t know what. So he trains and works out and runs laps over a thousand times. He bounces his knees when he sits. He shifts in his chair no matter how comfortable it is. He picks at loose threads on his gloves and he fidgets with his combat gear. He cleans and disassembles his guns and puts them back together. He does paperwork, or he attempts to. He can’t focus on the words and he can’t get his words right. He spends the time in his office bouncing his knee and clicking his pen and sweating because even though the window is open he can see the walls caving in from the corner of his eye. Nothing is right. Nothing he does is ever right.
He’s just so tired.
In the late hours of the night, usually on the nights he comes back from deployment or had a god awful nightmare, he would lay awake with you. The two of you facing each other, breathing in each other’s exhales as he played with your hair. He would lean in close and whisper into the still air, I don’t know what I would do without you. It’s the truth. Look at him now: an unfunctional mess with less capabilities than a bloody piece of paper. He’s absolutely useless without you. I don’t know what I would do without you, he had said. Guess he knows now, and his future doesn’t look very promising, (not that it would last more than a couple of hours if you weren’t ever saved).
He isn’t the only one who sees how he’s losing his mind. Everyone sees it. Johnny, Price, Gaz, even fucking Laswell. It makes him want to laugh. In fact, he does laugh in Price’s face. It’s funny, really. Really goddamn funny. Price and the lot of them. He won’t admit that he feels like he’s backed into a corner. That he’s seconds away from barring claws and fangs at them. He thinks he’s really fucking funny.
“You’re not going on this mission, Simon. I’m not signing off on it.”
Ghost wants to roll his eyes. Of course Simon isn’t going to go. That weak, emotional twat would get killed in seconds. Ghost is going. Not Simon, never Simon. Not anymore. But Price is looking at him like he’s fucking stupid. Like he’s dense and missing something. Then it clicks. If Simon isn’t going… that also means Ghost isn’t going. Two lives in one he realizes. Ghost and Simon. Simon and You.
“Like fucking hell I’m not going!” Both of them growl, Simon and Ghost together. For your sake, he can get his mind straight. There is no fucking way that he isn’t going to go out there and save you. Leave your life- the only life that matters in this damn world- in the hands of someone else? He thinks absolutely fucking not. He just hopes Price doesn’t see the thickening film over his eyes that’s been developing since you’ve been gone.
“It’s too personal for you. At this rate, you’re more of a liability than an asset.”
The anger coursing through his bones is strong and vibrating. His hands are clenching and unclenching at his sides and he feels like he can breathe fire. “Yeah? Things between the two of us are about to get fucking personal.”
Price does nothing but look at him calmly. He gives Ghost a pat on the shoulder, one that he quickly brushes off, and… walks away. It leaves Simon fuming, but as he stands there, his mind drifts again. And it floats and it flutters and his mind has gone blank again. His anger dies down to nothingness. He hates when that old geezer is right.
______________________________________
It’s made final. He watches them through the cameras in Laswell’s room. Yeah, he’s on Laswell’s personal assistant duty. He’s standing besides her, brooding as the rest of 141 board the chopper. He watches as it slowly begins to lift off the pad, and in a few seconds, it’s flying away. Laswell gives him what’s supposed to be a comforting pat on the shoulder, but Simon just stands there, looking at the empty helicopter pad.
He spends the rest of the time blanking out. He doesn’t really care for what Laswell is saying to her team on base, telling them to check coordinates and statuses and whatnot. Every now and then, one of the lads says something in comms that fills the room with static words. It all just sounds like white noise. Simon only realizes that they retrieved that target when Laswell shakes his shoulders and gives them a tight squeeze. It takes him a minute or two, his mind trying to channel in. But then it hits. It registers in his mind and in his heart and in his body. The fuzzy edges of his mind recede and everything looks sharper than it has in the past week and a half.
You’re coming home. He sags, head buried in his hands. His shoulders shake as he cries.
Even when the tears dry, he stays in that position until the boys get back. He jumps up, following behind Laswell to the medical center. The rest of 141 is there already, conversing about the briefing they will have to go to afterwards. When they hear the two of them approaching, they quieten up and smile. Simon doesn’t give them the chance to say anything before he pulls each of them into a hug, muttering that he owes each of them one. When he gets to Price, he holds onto him the longest, thank yous rushing from his mouth. When he finally pulls away, he asks how you are.
Price smiles, slapping his shoulder firmly, “Both are fine. Just check ups.”
Simon furrows, looking at Price, “There was another hostage?”
He’s confused when no one answers, looking around. He wants to slap the wide smile off of all their faces. Have they gone manic or something?
His attention draws back to Price as he chuckles, “Her and the baby.”
Simon feels his breath escape his lungs, his mind getting light headed. He might just cry again. He wastes no time walking into the room, eyes wide as he looks to the bed. You’re conversing casually with the nurse, hand resting on your stomach. When they both hear him enter, the both of you quiet and turn. You smile at him, opening your mouth to say something that never escapes as he rushes you. His hug is bone crushing, but you let him have it.
You’re finally back. You and the baby.
#cherry's requests🍒#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#cod simon ghost riley#simon ghost x you#ghost cod#cod modern warfare#cod x reader#cod ghost#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare#cod mwii#cod mw2#mw2#mw2 ghost#ghost mw2#ghost call of duty#simon ghost riley x you#ghost riley
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What happens when they outlive angel? Since poppy was first created in the 50’s it seems like being preserved as toys has granted them longer lifespans if not technical immortality, so angel aging is going to become a problem sooner or later, and I’m kinda wondering what happens when the inevitable comes. I made myself sad thinking about this and now all of you will be too, suffer with me
(i was thinking about this as well, uuuugghhhh)
it's so so sad. what will the toys do without their one advocate, the one person who truly understands them and what they represent? when the one good home they've ever had is gone, they've got nowhere else to go.
so, they stay.
when y/n dies, the toys have a quiet burial for them in their backyard, under a big shady tree. they make a simple marker from rocks, and pick wildflowers nearby to lay on the grave. none of them speak. it was hard enough digging the grave, and unbearably difficult to lay their savior to rest.
the house is horribly quiet afterwards.
poppy is likely the strong one throughout all this. she's had the most experience saying goodbye to people she cares about (thanks to her longevity), and she attempts to maintain a sense of optimism about it all. they'll all be ok, she's sure of it. they'll find their way through this, like always. it's what y/n would have wanted. kissy withdraws into herself further, following poppy's lead and trying not to cry.
dogday is devastated. devastated beyond all measure. he was the one to discover y/n when they passed. they were so pale, he could feel their warmth leaving them. their face looked so peaceful, they looked like they had just fallen asleep. he knew it was coming, they were getting older, but—but it's still not fair. it doesn't feel real. it can't be, his angel can't be dead, nothing has ever kept them down before, they always get back up, why couldn't they get back up—
...he tries to stay calm.
he took on the duty of grave digging. he took on the heavy burden of laying his beloved angel into the makeshift coffin they were able to cobble together. he could barely keep it together when he did. he managed, but not without crying.
that night, he waits until the girls have gone to bed before he closes himself off in y/n's bedroom. in the privacy of the once-shared space, dogday allows the truly desperate, heaving sobs he's been keeping in to finally leave his chest. tears mat down the fur on his face as he cries. he shakily grasps y/n's jacket to himself, wishing that there was some way, any way, that they could come back to him. he knows humans aren't meant to live forever. but that doesn't stop him from wishing that y/n could achieve the tentative immortality that the toys have, if only so that they could stay with him.
dogday becomes somber after his angel dies. they were his source of hope, his reason for living. they saved his life in ways beyond just physical. they were the only reason he was alive at all. without them, he's...he's not sure if he wants to keep going.
but he must. he knows he has to. y/n would want him to take care of the others, they'd want him to protect and provide for them. so, without any other purpose...that's what he does.
the toys live in their savior's house for as long as they're able. it's just their luck that the house is never put up for sale, that it's just sort of...forgotten about. it becomes a "haunted house in the woods," feared and avoided. they're more than happy to become the vague, cryptic monsters in local legends if it means that they're left alone.
nobody will come by to check on y/n for a while, and the toys will have power and food (their water comes from a well hooked up to the house) for at least a little while longer. and after that, they'll manage on what they can find in the woods.
they live as peacefully as they can for as long as they can.
#fr dogday may as well be a widower here#he and y/n werent married technically but they may as well have been#if this is canon dogday he goes completely hopeless after yn dies#but survivor dogday with his limbs intact would keep going and just get kinda bitter about everything
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