Lisa | 1998 | Want to use this blog to give support | both to writers and people who need someone to talk to | so send me an ask or a message --> Talk To Me I also write, check out my blog --> buchanan-fics
Hey 👀 is anyone still here? 😅 It’s been forever since I posted anything on this account. I used to post kpop fanfic here but then deleted it all because I wasn’t happy with my work. I haven’t really connected with the community since then but recently I have rediscovered my love for South-Korea. Not just kpop but also the language and culture and I don’t know anyone who shares those interests. Anyone here who wants to talk? Or knows some fun, non-toxic, (online) groups to join? I live in Belgium, there aren’t a lot of irl events here as far as I know, so I think my best shot is online groups. Anyone? 🙏 *waits patiently*
Okay perhaps this sounds odd but imagine Astarion starts to disassociate while intimate with Tav and so he uses their established safe word, only to be bewildered when Tav actually listens to him and stops and asks if he’s okay and tries to comfort him because nobody has cared that much before 😢
OH GODS WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME (i love it)
warning for suggestive content :)
For as long as Astarion's been genuinely intimate with you, for no other reasons but simply because of the affection the two of you hold for one another, he has always been in control.
It soothes him, in a way, to be on top. And as much as he enjoys watching you come undone beneath him, there's a more frustrating reason behind why he always feels the need to be the one to push you down onto whatever surface he deems decent enough at the time. From above you, he can see every little twitch in your body, every shift in your expression, and most of all, he can control what's happening, unlike his centuries spent as a seductive tool for Cazador's own needs.
He knows you're not like those fools. He knows you're different, and you're special to him. But the gnawing voice in the back of his head always forces him to pull you in, to hold you closer, to make love to you.
It's fucked up in so many ways.
"I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel."
But when you look up at him with those imploring, loving eyes, the voice seems to go quiet. He swallows the dryness of his throat, unable to think of anything but how wonderful your touch feels on his skin, and he thinks he could drown in this forever. He's putty in your hands, whether he wants to admit it or not.
"Well? Don't be a tease just standing there, darling."
In what feels like minutes, he's a mess. He's making sounds he shouldn't be making, fingertips digging into your hips as if they're the anchors keeping him from finishing too early. He breathes heavily into the crook of your neck, groaning when you caress the sharp tip of his ear between your fingers.
The only thing keeping him from spilling is the impending embarrassment he'd feel for doing so this early on in the night.
Then, everything stops.
"You're so beautiful," you whisper.
They're only words. They're not ones he's heard little of---in fact, he's heard it too much in the past two hundred years. In an instant, memories of the nights he spent under strangers, forced to shove his mind into its darkest corners just to get through their own pleasures, flood his consciousness. The sickening taste in his mouth afterward, and the need to rub his skin till it goes raw were not uncommon. It was routine. A sick part of his life that he'd rather forget.
You don't mean it the same way they did. They only said things like that because that's all they could say. They didn't know him as anything but the husk of a body he resided in. He knows you are saying the words to him. Not to his body but to the very person he is.
But the word comes spilling out his mouth, and immediately, you freeze.
You actually stopped.
Of course, you would. You're you.
"Are you okay? Did I do something?" you reach to cup either of his cheeks, and he stares at you as if you're a star that's fallen from the sky. He blinks, slowly.
"I don't know, I just---" he searches for words. "--you haven't done anything wrong, darling."
You wait for him to finish patiently. Gods, he doesn't deserve this. He doesn't deserve you.
"I only remembered something I'd rather not," he plasters a crooked grin on his face. "It's quite alright. We can continue now if I haven't ruined the mood."
You pull away from him, and he fears you'll leave.
Moments later, you return with a glass of water. Wordlessly, you hand it to him, and he only stares at it, confused beyond belief. Only once he notices the way you gesture to the glass does he drink it, and you finally climb back into bed, lying down beside him.
"Come here," you open your arm, motioning him to come closer.
"Darling, as much as I'm all for experimenting, that's a strange position to have sex in."
You smile, shaking your head. You don't explain any further, only continuing to hold out your arm.
Hesitant though curious, he slowly lies down beside you, his head just above your chest and slotted between the space below your chin. With gentle hands, you pull him closer and toss the blanket over both of your bodies.
It's warm. Strange, but warm.
"You don't have to wear a mask with me," you whisper.
His eyes grow wide, and his chest stills. He doesn't have many tears left after 239 years, but there's an unfamiliar squeeze in his chest that tells him if he were still 39 and alive, he might have. Astarion wraps his arms around your waist, burying his face into where he can hear the steady beating of your heart.
Later, when your eyes begin to droop, he mumbles.
"Tell me I'm beautiful again."
"You're beautiful," you say softly. "With or without your pretty face."
You might be imagining it, but you feel him smile against your skin.
still working on requests but i suddenly remembered that this post exists and immediately wanted needed to write touch-starved astarion. hope you guys enjoy this as much as i did!
a fervor, a sweet (astarion x gender neutral!reader, baldur’s gate 3)
As thrilled as he is to be free of Cazador’s control, Astarion could do without the constant need for blood.
Deer and boar just aren’t cutting it these days, not when he’s expected to fight goblins or harpies or whatever other damnable creature whose midsts you keep gallivanting into.
Which is why he’s using all of his roguish tricks to approach your sleeping form without notice, intent on nicking a few mouthfuls from your throat before you wake. Nothing outlandish - just a little nibble, enough to keep him going. Keep him strong.
Of course you wake just as he’s kneeling down with fangs bared. Of course. Astarion is quick to explain himself, wary of a stake through the ribs, but you’re surprisingly amenable to having a vampire in your midsts.
You’re surprisingly amenable to many things, actually, including offering him the blood he so desperately needs.
Are you that trusting, he wonders. Or that naive?
Either way, Astarion has learned never to look a gift horse in the mouth. He urges you to get comfortable and then dives into his first real meal in centuries, nearly sighing as the sweetness of your blood spills over his tongue.
It’s splendid, the taste of your blood thick in the back of his throat. He’s never tasted anything like it, never felt anything like it, the sheer rapturous joy of giving his body what it needs, and to have your blood be offered so willingly only seems to add to the euphoria of the experience. Gods, but he could spend ages buried in your throat.
He’s lost in a pleasurable half-state, numb to everything but your blood coating his tongue, and so he almost doesn’t notice your arm rising, not until your hand has settled on the back of his head. Disappointment curdles in his gut; you’re about to push him away and that, as they say, will be that. Ah well. It had been generous enough of you to offer this much.
But you don’t push him off. Your fingers are moving, yes, but not in an attempt to dislodge him. You’re simply… touching him. Pushing wayward curls into place, trying to tame his hair into some semblance of order, no small feat considering how mussed it’s become from his journey through the nautiloid ship and days in the wilderness with you and the motley crew you’ve gathered.
You’re careful about it, gentle. Astarion - well, he doesn’t quite know what to do in response. Even the sweetness of your blood fails to distract from the soft sensation of your fingers carding through his curls.
Even as they slow to a stop atop the crown of his head, Astarion can do little but stare blankly at the skin of your throat, nearly forgetting to swallow his mouthful. And then you pat his head, your palm gentle to avoid mussing up the job you’d just completed on his hair, and Astarion is so surprised he lets go immediately.
“Ah, that will be all, I think,” he murmurs, unable to discern if the warmth in his chest is from the meal he’d just indulged in or the way your fingers had felt combing through his curls. Either way, it would be a good idea to leave, now, lest he do something foolish.
He feels your eyes on his back as he walks - walks, not runs - away. He feels them for even longer after that, a gentle weight across his shoulders that fails to dissipate even as he gorges himself on boar and deer in the dark of the night.
*
The camp is awash in celebration - Halsin has been rescued, the Druid ritual halted, and the goblin scourge destroyed. Merriment flows in the form of drink and song, and everywhere Astarion looks there is joy to be found on faces both familiar and not.
He searches for you, certain that this night will allow him the perfect opportunity to strengthen your bond. You’re already charmed by him - but then, who wouldn’t be, with all of his talents? - and a night together would serve to secure his place by your side, secure his safety. His freedom.
He’s stopped multiple times by inebriated tieflings, all eager to give him thanks for his part in the goblin massacre. One pushes a bottle of too-sharp smelling wine into his arms, and bereft of any other choice, Astarion accepts the bounty with a pasted-on smile.
Surely you’re the one they should be fawning over, he thinks, taking a pull of the wine and grimacing at its taste. It should be you in the midst of this celebration, being plied with trinkets and tasteless wine and heralded as the hero you are.
And yet -
“You do realize you’re the guest of honor, don’t you?” he questions, unable to contain the curl of his lips when you shoot him a startled glance. Apparently you hadn’t expected anyone to find you in this little hidey hole, tucked behind an outcropping of rock with the newest acquisition to your group nestled against your knee. The owlbear has its head resting on your thigh, cooing gently as your fingers stroke along its crown.
“Are they asking for me?” Your voice is hushed, the faintest hint of a slur to your words, and Astarion huffs a laugh. He wasn’t the only recipient of subpar wine, it seems.
“Not yet.” He approaches you and your little shadow, grateful that the owlbear cub seems more preoccupied with your fingers than turning those sharp claws onto him. “But they’ll come calling eventually. Why are you hiding?”
“I’m not!” you insist, though your words lack much conviction. “I’m simply - recovering. From the wine.”
Astarion smirks, taking a seat beside you. “From the adoration, you mean.”
You huff a breath, your fingers scratching lightly between the owlbear’s ears. “That, too,” you admit quietly.
“The life of a hero not quite what you expected?” You’d taken to it like you were born to do so, never failing to offer your aid to any poor soul in need. Yet the grimace that twists your lips speaks of a keen dissatisfaction with the moniker. Interesting.
“I’m not a hero - “ you start, only to falter at the placid look Astarion gives you. You huff out a breath. “Just because I enjoy helping people doesn’t mean I’m entirely comfortable with all the fanfare that comes with it.”
“Understandable.” Astarion leans back on his palms, idly listening to the tiefling bard’s song as it filters through camp. “Surprising, but understandable.”
Your brows climb. “Why is that surprising?”
“Oh, come now,” he teases. “Isn’t half the fun of playing hero the praise and accolades that come after?”
You shake your head, a soft laugh bubbling from within your throat. It’s a pleasant sound. “I’d rather be giving the praise than receiving it,” you confess. The owlbear chirps as though in agreement and you take to cupping its plump cheeks in your palms, an affectionate glint in your eye. “Yes, you understand, don’t you, my brave little one?” Your fingers scritch gently through the owlbear’s feathers and the creature purrs, a rumble that Astarion can nearly feel in the soles of his feet.
You shoot a triumphant glance his way. “See? Much better.”
“Well, as long as you’re doling out praise,” he murmurs expectantly, some small part of him wondering why in the hells he’d decided to say such a thing and swiftly laying the blame for his loosened tongue on the awful wine.
A look of surprise passes over your face before it’s swiftly replaced by an expression that Astarion can only define as fond. He should be thrilled about that - he’d set out to charm you to his side during your first meeting, after all, and here before him was the proof that his machinations were working. He waits for the satisfaction to spill through his veins, the joy of a job well done, but instead all he truly feels is… warmth.
Warmth and the callused pads of your fingertips settling gently against his cheeks. He blinks in surprise at the unexpected touch, mutely staring as your eyes track his face and your lips tilt into a soft smile.
“You were very brave, too, Astarion,” you croon, in much the same tone as the words you’d cooed to the owlbear, and despite himself, Astarion feels a hot flush work its way down his chest.
“Really now, darling,” he begins, adopting a lofty tone to distract from the shock of his own body’s reaction to your words.
“Fierce as well,” you continue undeterred. “Cunning and swift. Utterly brilliant.” Your palms gently squeeze at his cheeks in much the same way you had just been handling the owlbear. That bit should offend him, probably - he isn’t some beast to be swayed by pretty words - but the expression on your face serves to soothe his ego well enough.
You’ve a mind for deception when the situation calls for it, but the wine and general merriment of the evening seem to have stripped you of all but sheer sincerity. You mean what you say.
“Well, I - “ Astarion struggles for words - a first for him, in all truth. Perhaps the wine has addled his mind, too, for the only thought he seems capable of is how nice it might feel to slump against your hold, allowing you to be all that holds him aloft in the world.
The owlbear trills between you, the call enough to distract you. Your hands slip from Astarion’s face and for reasons he chooses not to study too closely, it takes a valiant effort for the vampire not to snatch them back up again.
That, he reasons, is his cue to leave, and with a swift farewell and a promise not to rat out your hiding place to the rest of the revelers, he goes.
It doesn’t strike Astarion until he’s back within the safety of his own tent that his plans for the evening - to seduce you into his bed and bolster your growing bond - had been completely waylaid. He should be furious with himself, and he waits for the bitter sting of disappointment to settle on his tongue -
But it doesn’t.
Strange.
*
Camp is mostly silent when Astarion returns from his late night feeding, though you appear to still be awake, nestled on a log by the fire and staring silently into the depths of the flames.
He debates bypassing you entirely but that feels too much like retreating. The night of the tiefling’s celebration remains fresh in his mind, his body’s increasingly confusing reactions to your touch stalling his feet, but Astarion is no coward.
In truth, you look so lost in thought that he could have passed you completely uncontested, and he might have tried his luck, if only he weren’t so sure that he himself was the source of your turmoil.
The Gur hunter had been a nasty little surprise. Astarion had given little thought to the possibility of Cazador sending someone after him, or perhaps he’d always known it was an inevitability and merely elected not to give credence to the thought. A folly on his part, to be sure. He would have to be much more vigilant in future.
“Don’t tell me you were waiting up for me,” he quips, taking no small amount of pleasure in your startled expression as he settles onto the log beside you.
You open your mouth - perhaps to deny his accusation - but seem to sense the futility of such a claim.
“We can’t be certain that Gandrel was working alone,” you say, turning your gaze once more to the flames. “I felt better, waiting.”
“Ah,” Astarion murmurs. You were concerned for him, then. He’d known as much - even after dispatching of the hunter and facing down the hag afterward, you had refused to rest until the party was well beyond the borders of the swamp. A blessing, really, considering the stench of the place, but even Lae’zel and Wyll had raised a brow at your haste.
Silence falls between you for a moment, slightly awkward but also strangely comfortable, heavy with words unsaid. You look fit to bursting, however; Astarion can feel your gaze darting to him when you feel he isn’t aware, and he resists the urge to smile. He has centuries on you - he can be patient.
“Your arm?” There it is, your voice deceptively light when you finally speak.
Astarion huffs. Was that what had worried you so?
“It was only a flesh wound, pet.” The Gur’s arrow had sliced a furrow into his forearm, leaving behind a stinging, bloody mess, but it was nothing a few mouthfuls of blood couldn’t fix.
You nod jerkily, brows furrowing. “I know,” you mutter, though you don’t sound entirely convinced.
Astarion sighs, though even he can hear the fond exasperation in it. “See for yourself,” he says, holding his bare arm out for your perusal.
The skin is pale, unmarred, as though the wound had never been inflicted at all. He expects the silent look of awe that passes over your face; he even expects the relief, though the vulnerability of the expression - the proof that you’ve grown to care for him - is enough to make him second guess his earlier decision to approach you.
He’s not expecting your fingers, roughened at the tips with calluses from wielding your weapon, to wrap gingerly around his arm.
Astarion goes still, watching as you study the offending limb with far more intensity than it deserves. Your nails drag lightly over the stretch of skin where the arrow had struck, leaving a tingling sensation behind in their wake.
He’s rocketed back to the night you’d first offered your blood to him, to the moment during the tiefling’s celebration when you’d gathered his face in your hands and touted him brave. He’s freshly fed and pleasantly full, but the warmth in his belly has little to do with blood.
It’s you.
It’s you and this damnable urge you seem to have to touch him - his hair, his face, his body, all seemingly without thought, without sexual intent, without cruelty.
When had such a touch ever been bestowed upon him? Before his death, certainly. Before Cazador.
The thought roars through him like a wailing beast.
Why are you doing this? Why do you care?
Why does Astarion never want you to stop?
“I’m glad there was no lasting damage,” you murmur, your hands curled loosely around his arm. You’ve no intention of letting him go anytime soon, it seems, but that’s alright. That lost, fretful look has vanished from your face, leaving behind sweet relief and a small, lopsided smile.
Astarion wants to taste it, to feel the texture and give of your mouth against his. Not to manipulate, not to coax you into bed, but simply because he wants to.
Gods above, he actually wants.
*
He carries the feeling, for a time.
The want, the need. The ache.
It builds and it builds, a sweet desperation that he’s never quite felt before, until eventually even Astarion’s centuries-born patience runs reed thin.
The Elfsong Tavern comes as a welcome respite after spending weeks in the wilderness. The entire upper floor is yours, and even Lae’zel seems more approachable after a few nights spent in the comfort of a real bed - much as she may hiss when Astarion tells her so.
A confrontation with Cazador lies just around the corner, a looming threat that hangs over all of your heads. You’re strong - stronger than Astarion had ever thought possible - but there’s a very real chance that none of you will see the light of day again after you breach his stronghold.
If this is to be his last night on earth, Astarion reasons as he comes to a halt outside your door and raises a hand to rap at the wood, then he’ll be damned if he spends it without the comfort of your touch.
You call for him to enter, and at his first glance of you, his resolve firms. You’ve discarded your armor, clad in loose clothing that makes you look soft, open.
The urge to tease, to pester and charm disappears. Astarion climbs atop your bed, settles himself at your side, and for the first time in recent memory, asks for something he actually wants.
“Touch me?”
Your brows jump, mouth parting on a slow, sharp breath. You set aside the tome you’d been reading, eyes searching his own. He half-expects you to question him, to gently urge him from your room.
But you don’t.
Your palms are warm against his jaw, your touch tentative, exploratory, until Astarion sighs and sinks against you.
You murmur his name, your voice soft, full of surprise, of wonder.
“Please,” he whispers, and you laugh, a soft, shaky thing, disbelieving, awestruck. Fond.
You thumb at his cheekbone, drag your nails along his jaw, trace the bow of his lips until he’s gasping for breath, a fire sparking in his blood. Your fingers shift gently through his hair, and then firm within his curls whenever he releases a low, trembling moan.
Each touch you bestow upon him is a solar flare, blinding, brilliant, hot: your hands stroking over the crown of his head, dragging through the short curls at his nape, scratching lightly over his throat, his shoulders, his waist.
His chin falls to your shoulder as your palms spread out along his back, dragging a trail of fire down the length of his spine. He presses his lips against your throat and bites out your name, warm and wanting, and you croon against his ear, nonsense words interspersed with his name. The scent of your own desire, your skin, your need is a heady concoction, making his head spin and his fangs ache. Thoughts of the parasite, the Absolute, Cazador - they all fade to the back of his mind, unimportant, insignificant to the heat of your hands upon his skin.
“Don’t stop.” It’s a desperate order, his voice gravel, his blood afire. His buries his hands beneath your tunic, feels your body shake as tremulously as his own, and knows in that moment that he could never let you go.
“I won’t.” Your voice is a balm, a declaration, a vow. You press your lips to his brow and say it again, the cadence of the words sinking deep, taking hold, stronger than Cazador’s cruelty and the parasite’s hunger and everything else that you’ve yet to face.
It should be terrifying - it is terrifying, but Astarion has long grown accustomed to fear.
Writing bg3 hc Now! Will also still be doing rdr2 a/n at the bottom for more info! spelling errors
Gn Reader
Gale, astarion,halsin,
Establish relationships
🍓Gale
You see Gale sitting all alone enjoying a good book. He always looked cute when he was enjoying what he was reading, he looked so concentrated and expressive
You couldn’t help but walk over to the wizard. “Mind if I join you?”. He smiled and patted the ground beside him “Of course, what’s better than a good book? Good company to share it with”
You sat down and made yourself comfortable ” What are you reading” You looked curiously over at the book in the wizard's hands. “Ah, It’s nothing really, just another tail of dragons and knights. I could read it aloud if you wish?”
He looked a bit nervous “On second thought you’ve probably grown tired of hearing my voice”. You gave his arm a reassuring squeeze “Never”
You laid back, Gale didn’t look very comfortable, being hunched over “Here,” you said sweetly and pulled him down so his head was on your lap “Better?” He looked a little stiff but quickly regained his composure “Yes, yes it’s quite nice”
As He started to read Your hand absentmindedly went to his hair, and your fingers started to card through his brown locks, you felt him tense but then relax back into it
You closed your eyes and leaned your head back listening to him read, but after a long you heard him trail off, opening one of your eyes to peek at him you could see he was starting to doze
With a smile, you gently took the book out of his hands “Huh?” He opened his eyes to look at you. ”you were falling asleep” your hand still in his hair
“Could You…could you maybe keep doing that?” Gale mutters sheepishly. You just laughed softly and smiled
That night Gale fell asleep with a smile on his face and your hands in his hair
🍓astarion
The party decided it would be best to stay at a tavern that night, treating themselves and of course, astarion headed straight towards where the bath was located
It had been an hour and still no sign of him, getting a tad bit worried you decided to go check on him, you knocked on the door softly “Star? Are you alright in there?” You were met with a muffled “Yes darling quite alright”
After a few minutes you hesitantly “Can…can I come in?" he automatically responded with a "Yes darling"
as you opened the door thick clouds of steam poured out. "hurry my love, we wouldn't want it to get cold in here now would we?" astarion was sitting in a bath you could only assume was boiling hot water "Star, how hot is that bath? your skin is red" he waved off your concern
"now what did you need?" his eyebrow raised in curiosity. "I was hoping to join you honestly" his expression dropped as he opened his mouth to speak but then closed it
"You can say no" your voice filled with nothing but love and encouragement. he hesitates for a moment before finally saying "It's just I don't believe the tub would be big enough for us both that's all" he flashed you a charming smile. you knew there was a deeper reason but didn't push
"i was actually thinking of just sitting in here with you. Would that be ok?' he looked taken aback "You just wish to sit here with me that's all?" you gave a nod "Well I mean who wouldn't want to sit here and marvel at my beauty, go ahead"
as he reached for the soap you beat him to it "Here let me." pouring a generous amount of soap into your hands, making your way behind him, first lathering the soap in your hands before sinking them into his hair
"What are you doing?" his body tensed up slightly. "washing your hair what does it look like" teased him with a sweet voice as your fingers gently massaged his head. "I get that darling but why?" his voice sounded unsure, not used to non-sexual intimacy.
"Because I love you, and you deserve to get pampered" his breath caught in his throat and quickly cleared it "Of course I do, I'm glad we're on the same page." you gave him a small laugh as you kept washing his hair, he closed his eyes and lent back into your hands. you swear you could hear him purring
you both sat in comfortable silence until he softly said "I love you too" You could hear the faint smile on his lips without having to see it
🍓Halsin
this morning was a rare morning, not only did you wake up early voluntarily, but you woke before Halsin which never happened. (to be fair he just got back from a long and exhausting journey but still!)
waking up feeling warm. not sure if it was because of how the sun was hitting your face or because of the giant man holding you close to him
your eyes fluttered open and you were met with the sight of a sleeping Halsin. he looked peaceful. the sun made him look radiant, glowing almost, as his chest rose and fell with a steady rhythm. something else caught your eye. he had his hair down
yes his hair was always down but it was always pulled back, but this morning it sprawled messily over his pillow, and a couple stray strands laid on his face. you couldn't help but reach out and brush it away
his eyebrows frowned before he quietly spoke "Your hands are cold" You quickly retracted your hand. "sorry" you whispered back, Halsins eyes opened slolwy. blinking away the sleep, he smiled and grabbed your hand and placed it back on his cheek, and kissed the palm of your hand. "it's ok my heart"
you could feel your face heat up all you could do was smile dumbly "It's down" was all you said and tucked a few more pieces behind his ear. "does it bother you my heart?' you shook your head, all too eager to see the druid with his hair down. "no, I like it"
running your hand through his usually well-kept hair. "how is it so soft" you wondered out loud, Halsin just chuckled and let you have your fun.
he let out a content sigh. "awfully affectionate this morning. not that I mind" his lips pressed against your forehead. "Is something the matter?"
"no, I just missed my bear that's all" You studied his face, taking in every detail. "I think I finally understand the whole "appreciate nature's gift" thing." the druid just laughed warmly and shook his head fondly
the two of you spent all morning like that. his arms wrapped around you and you playing with his hair
🍓A/N
hey guys im back! so much as happened i graduated and im 19 now? life has been crazy!! i know this is different from my usual content but playing baulders gate gave me inspiration to write again. dont worry i will still take requests for RDR2 but i will also be writing for BG3. With that said im cleaning out my inbox so if you see your request finally go through a year later.............🤷♀️. i will also be taking BG3 requests. i did astarion, gale, and halsin i think i can write them comfortably. but do not be scared to request other characters if you really wanna see me write for them or have a really specific scenario in mind. i will also try to post every other Wednesday
In a fit of guilt, Astarion tries to confess his deception to you. At the last moment, he loses his nerve and ends your relationship with another lie. He's resigned himself to having lost his chance with you forever when once again everything changes. With the two of you out on your own, will he be able to take a chance and tell you everything, and will you forgive him when he does?
༺Pairing༻ Astarion x Female Reader
༺Warnings༻ Sexual references
༺Word Count༻ 1888
Astarion was, well, he was loath to admit it, but he was brooding. He’d taken up a private room at the Elfsong now that everything was over, one where he could keep protected from the sun while the rest of his companions, yourself included, lived their lives in the light of day. Slowly, condemned back to the shadows, locked in his room with drapes drawn tight against the burning daylight, he’d drifted further and further away from the group. Culminating in tonight, where he had one perfunctory drink at the farewell party and slipped off away from the group to hide out amongst his books and the shadows of his mind.
For the last several weeks, everyone had put their all into assisting Baldur’s Gate in starting to rebuild. Those who were left anyway, Wyll and Karlach were in Avernus, and Lae’zel was off to wage war on Vlaakith. Now those who were left would be parting ways as well, Shadowheart to see the world, Gale back to Waterdeep, Jaheira and Minsc to rebuild the Baldur’s Gate Harpers, and you and Halsin…hells, he didn’t want to know.
If he were being honest with himself, which felt like it was to be avoided these days, there was more to his self-imposed exile than returning to a nocturnal life. Seeing the two of you together made it feel like a dagger was shoved between his ribs and playing around with his insides.
And the worst part was, it was all his fault. He couldn’t be mad at you or the infuriatingly perfect Druid. Well, he shouldn’t anyway, he still found himself wanting to shred Halsin’s throat with his teeth every time he pulled you close and kissed you like you were a goddess he was paying worship to. He’d done it to himself though, weaving a web of lies and manipulations so dense he’d trapped himself while you slipped through, unscathed.
That web became too entangled with the way you’d stood firm against that Drow, for him. You’d seen him as a person, and he’d repaid that by seeing you as a pawn. At least at first. By the time you shouted at that vile creature on his behalf, he’d become so hopelessly lost in the strands of feeling that had grown and wrapped around his heart, he knew he had to give up the plan, and give you the truth, even if you hated him for it.
As soon as your group had made camp that night, not far enough from the shadows of Moonrise Towers for anyone's comfort, he'd made his way over to you. “I want to thank you,” he’d started, sure of his course. “For what you said whilst in front of that vile Drow…
“...You made me realize I never stopped thinking like his slave.” He drew in a breath, despite the fact that he didn’t need it, and froze. Patiently, you stared up at him with that affectionate look you always had, giving him space to collect his thoughts. You, the fount of warmth and sweetness he didn’t deserve, the love he couldn’t hope to keep. Frantically, he willed himself to speak, to tell you what you needed to know, no matter the consequences.
“And I realize I don’t think I’m ready for a relationship.” The words had spilled out of his lips before he could think them through and he watched as your eyes widened in hurt.
“Gods no, what the fuck are you doing,” he cursed himself, but still the words came.
“Being with someone still feels tainted, I need to figure out who I am, what I want.” Finally, he’d bitten down on his own tongue to stop the tide, but the damage was done.
Those loving eyes of yours sparkled with tears, but that composure he’d begrudgingly come to admire since he met you held firm. “Is this really what you want, Astarion?”
“No, no, no. I want you, I want it to be real.” If he gave you the truth and you sent him away, he couldn’t bear it. At least this way he could salvage your friendship, still bask in your light from time to time. The excuse was flimsy, even to himself, but he’d been a liar from the start.
“I think it's for the best, I'm sorry.” Twice, he’d lied to you, twice, there would never be any coming back from this. “Please don't be mad at me.”
You stepped forward and he instinctively came close to cowering away. But you weren’t intent on harming him, instead wrapping your arms around him in a gentle embrace. “I think I understand. I’m not mad if this is what you need.”
Your arms felt as though they were crushing him, their touch burning his skin. The urge to pull away and flee was almost overwhelming. But you deserved this one last bit of comfort. “Thank you,” he murmured, resting his head on your shoulder, breathing you in, and resigning himself to a life without this.
After you finally pulled away, you went to his tent and packed your things, leaving to set up on your own and let him endure the night without you at his side. There was a time when he’d never believe his own space could feel so empty. Back in the spawn dormitory, he would have given anything for this solitude. Now it was wretched. And so his first night alone was passed in miserable resolution, and when the day dawned, he went on as though all was right.
It wasn’t lost on him that you would eventually find other companionship, you were attractive, witty, brave, and immensely caring. And from what he’d seen, you certainly weren’t interested in a celibate lifestyle. That line of reasoning still didn't prepare him for the night the group camped outside Rivington.
Astarion had just returned from a hunt, the blood of a rabbit fresh on his tongue. It wasn’t you but he hadn’t dared ask to touch your neck after everything, electing to spend his trance hours dreaming of those moments between you instead. It was better than the nightmares of Cazador and his tortures at least. As he’d crept into the circle of ruined buildings that camp had been set up in, he stopped short, the world feeling as though it was closing in around him.
You were talking to Halsin, who held one of your hands in his, and somehow, even with his ridiculously large hands, delicately brushed a strand of hair behind your ear with the otherl. Time slowed and Astarion felt as though the blood in his stomach might make its way back out of his mouth.
In the dim firelight, the stars gleaming without a cloud to obscure them, Halsin kissed you. Softly, slowly at first, and then his hands wandered to your hips to pull you in as he deepened it. Your hands came to rest on those broad shoulders and instead of pulling away as Astarion desperately hoped you would, you leaned into it, eager and wanting. He wasn’t close enough, but Astarion could swear he heard the little moan you probably made. The same sound you used to make for him.
Halsin stared down at you after breaking the kiss, no doubt with naked lust written on his face, and offered you his hand again. And that was the that, the two of you began to quietly walk away from camp while Astarion fled to his tent, crawling into his bedroll and desperately choking down the sobs that threatened.
It had been bound to happen, but how soon, was what burned from the inside out. Just like that, you’d forgotten all about him, as though he hadn’t mattered in the first place. How dare you. He tried to summon anger with you, to wash away the pain. It was a betrayal, he had every right to be angry. You waited for no time at all, you moved on so easily, you…you just forgot he loved you.
Not that he’d ever said it, but you must have known. The bedroll was even colder than usual as Astarion clung to the one object he found comfort in. Kept secreted away amongst his things, a shirt of yours he managed to pilfer before his botched confession. By day, it was tucked in his pack, and at night it filled his bedroll beside him. Pulling it into his arms, he inhaled what was left of your scent on it, and buried his face in the pillow to weep bitter tears.
He emerged the next morning into daylight that no longer held the promise it had so recently. Almost immediately you ran to him, taking your arm in his, giving him a moment of foolish hope. If things had gone badly between you and Halsin, he would rectify his mistake and tell you everything, he privately swore.
All it took was one look in your eyes to know that hope was in vain. “Astarion, I need to tell you something, and I wanted you to hear it from me first.” You led him away from the rest of the group, almost to the spot where he’d seen you with Halsin. The rest of your companions pretended not to notice the obvious personal moment occurring a stone's throw away from them.
It was a good thing he'd cried every tear he had last night. “Well go on Darling, don't keep me in suspense,” he plastered on a grin.
“The thing is,” you look everywhere but at him, “Halsin and I, well, things happened between us last night, and I think I'd like to pursue whatever this is. It just felt right to tell you first.”
Astarion laughed, a hollow sound to his own ears, but convincing enough for you, it seemed. “My Dear, you were worrying yourself about this? Don't vex your pretty little head like that, I don't begrudge your need for intimacy. Even if I fail to understand the appeal of a man who's always going on about enjoying the freedom of nature's gifts.”
“Astarion,” you scolded, but a subtle smile told him you were relieved. “Behave yourself.”
“Let me have a little fun at your expense.” He disentangled his arm from yours, its warmth suddenly smothering. Taking your hand, he kissed it gently. “I'm glad, you deserve to be happy.” That part he did mean, even as he reviled how it was happening. “And I'm sure you and Halsin will be. Don't worry about me.”
“Please worry about me. Can't you see how I'm bleeding?”
Leaning up, you kissed his cheek, with all the gentleness in the world. “Thank you, Astarion, I'm glad you understand, I'd never want to hurt you.”
From that moment on, you were Halsin's and Astarion had to grin and pretend to be happy for you. That's what friends were for and you insisted you two were friends. The two of you seemed so disgustingly infatuated with each other, he wanted to scream at times. So naturally he'd assumed you'd be happily headed out on some grand, romantic journey together.
Which was why it startled him to nearly a second death when you burst into his claimed sanctuary, clearly distraught and slamming the door behind you. “I'm sorry… I can't be in there,” you gasped out between sobs.
Okay so on Astarion, I was reading this fic about him not knowing Tavs true intentions with him and it bothering Astarion a lot, so what if he goes to some mage or magic user and asks them to show Tavs true intentions to him, when he does the vision he sees is just... being snuggled. It's Tav on top of him and the both of you are falling asleep, his hands are under your shirt softly petting your skin as your sleepy self is contently snuggled up to him. I just start crying about him finding out that Tavs DASTARDLY and EVIL plan with him, their greatest desire from him... is to simply be held. 🥺
Hi @goblin-creatcher! Thank you so much for this BEAUTIFUL prompt. I, uhh, kind of took it and went a million miles an hour with it. This is honestly one of my favorite things I've ever written. I hope you enjoy it as well! xoxoxo
Something Imagined / Something Real
Word Count: 3.9K
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Astarion x f!Tav
Warnings/Tags: Brief but detailed description of rough consensual sex, descriptions and references to Astarion's trauma/trauma responses, minor Act 1 and Act 2 spoilers, FLUFF, angst
Suggested Song Pairing: Slow Dancing in A Burning Room (Stripped) - cover by ST LUNA
Summary: Astarion has been suspicious of Tav’s true intentions toward him. He persuades Gale to cast a spell and reveal her motivations. ANGST and FLUFF ensue. A rewriting of Astarion’s confession scene from Act 2.
The sun had just begun to set on the campsite when Astarion decided to put his plan into action. He had waited until Tav departed with some of the other party members before making his way over to the wizard. Gale was too busy reassembling the bookshelf inside his tent to notice Astarion’s approach. It wasn’t until he gave a polite cough that Gale jumped and whirled to face him.
“No, no, no,” he began all at once, hands raised in a sort of shooing motion. Astarion stared at him in confusion. “I can respect Tav’s indulging in your need for blood, but as I’ve said before: I taste terrible.”
Astarion scoffed. “Charming. Actually, wizard, I was coming to request your aid in a different, though somewhat related, matter.”
“Really? Care to elaborate?” Gale responded, still somewhat wary. It wasn’t often he found himself alone with the vampire.
“Testy, I see,” Astarion crooned teasingly. His knee-jerk response to people treating him like a monster, to behave in the most false saccharine sort of way.
But he drew up short, censoring himself before saying anything else he might regret. He knew he needed to get on the wizard’s good side if he had any chance of getting the answers he sought.
“I was hoping you knew a spell to reveal someone’s true intentions. Their… motivations for behaving in a certain way, so to speak,” he finished more seriously.
Gale pondered the question for a moment before answering.
“Hmm… yes, there is magic to determine that sort of thing… Although it’s been some time since I practiced it…” He trailed off, rubbing his chin in thought.
“Why are you asking for such a thing?” he asked suddenly.
Astarion had been prepared for this question, of course. No one did anything for free, no questions asked. He delivered his explanation perfectly, as he’d been rehearsing in his mind.
“One might say our dear sweet Tav and I have been growing a bit… closer these days, but I can sense a master manipulator when I see one. I just simply want to ensure their intentions toward me - toward the party - are true,” he replied with mock innocence.
“Ah, yes,” Gale nodded. “I gathered as much when the two of you slipped away from the tiefling’s party a few nights ago.”
“But,” he continued on,”I needn’t think you should worry when it comes to Tav. She seems about as transparent as they come. I’m sure any intentions she has toward you are true.”
Yes, but the best actors always mask their motivations behind innocence and transparency, Astarion thought to himself. I should know. I’ve been doing it for centuries.
After the party’s unfortunate meeting with that Gur in the Sunlit Wetlands, Astarion realized he would have to take potential threats from Cazador even more seriously. He wasn’t about to lose his freedom, not now that he finally had some small taste of it.
It didn’t hurt to be more suspicious of everyone he encountered, even the sweetling Tav. Anyone could be an operative sent by Cazador, and the best ones would be as skilled as he was in the art of manipulation. It was well-known at this point that the person he’d grown the closest to on their journey was their brave party leader, Tav. Unlikely as it may be that she was scheming for his master, Astarion’s paranoia wouldn’t let him indulge in interactions with her a second longer unless he knew how she truly felt.
Given Gale’s hesitation, Astarion knew he would have to kick his acting up a notch. Press on that wizard’s heartstrings. Touch the one nerve he knew he was sensitive to.
“Gale, darling, from one literally damaged soul to another, indulge me just this once,” Astarion beseeched him.
The wizard glared at him a moment, before finally relenting with a heavy sigh. “Fine. Fine. But I want it known that I don’t agree with this so-called solution one whit,” he grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Yes, yes, noted and formally documented, on my word as a former Baldurian magistrate,” Astarion replied cheerily. “So, let’s hop to it then, shall we?”
“What, right now?” Gale asked, shocked. “Shouldn’t we be, I don’t know, a little less conspicuous?”
“What better time than now?” Astarion responded. “Tav’s out gathering firewood with Wyll and Karlach. They won’t be back for some time. As for Lae’zel and Shadowheart, well…” he paused, gesturing over his shoulder.
Said two were engaged in a heated sparring session on the outskirts of the camp. Snarls and curses could be heard emanating from both warriors as they tried, and failed, to gain the upper hand against their opponent.
“That lovers’ dance could go on until morning,” Astarion finished.
“Fair point,” Gale admitted begrudgingly, grimacing at the sound of swords clashing violently. “Very well. Let’s get started.”
Clearing his throat, Gale began to utter a series of phrases completely foreign to Astarion. He watched as the wizard began moving his hands in a wavelike pattern, forming a circle before them. Suddenly, a mist began to form from seemingly thin air, taking shape according to the boundaries Gale’s hands were creating. The mist grew more and more opaque until it appeared before them like a clouded mirror.
As the fogginess of the ethereal magic began to clear, the “mirror” became a confusing blur of scenes whipping by, too fast for Astarion or Gale to really comprehend. There were flashes of Tav and Astarion, together and separate, but they disappeared too quickly to ascertain their context. It was as though the spell was shuffling through the entirety of Tav’s thoughts, assessing each one at breakneck speed.
Finally, the spell slowed to a halt, stopping on one scene in particular. Astarion was struck speechless by what began playing out in the foggy portal before them. So distracted, he didn’t even notice Gale’s tight cough, or how the wizard suddenly became intensely interested in a copse of trees nearby, rather than the revelation the spell was revealing.
Not that the scene was especially profound, objectively speaking. In fact, to anyone else, it might be viewed as the least revelatory thing possible that the spell could have shown. Boring. Inconsequential, even. But to Astarion, it was almost earth shattering.
He saw himself - he could see his face! - with Tav, lying tangled together in some immaculate four-poster bed.
That was the first shock that coursed through him, nearly causing his knees to buckle. He was seeing himself for the first time in over 200 years. Or at least, he was seeing himself as Tav saw him. And… the person he saw… Well, he was gorgeous. White blonde locks, curled and tousled in a devil-may-care sort of way. A strong, patrician nose that suggested good breeding. High, sharp cheekbones. Full lips, upturned in a thoughtless grin. Red eyes bordered by long, sweeping lashes. Delicately pointed elven ears. Smooth alabaster skin, without blemish or spot.
Astarion could scarcely believe his own eyes.
The second shock to his system was the nature of their activities. He would have been less surprised had the vision shown them fucking. Him taking her roughly from behind perhaps. His name a cry of ecstasy from her lips as he pistoned in and out of her with a feral sort of determination.
Fantasies of lust, of total domination, now those were things he was familiar with inspiring in the minds of the victims he had taken as lovers. It was what he strove for, in all honesty. Desire like that all but ensured he would capture his prey and live to serve another day for his master.
But nothing of the sort was occurring between vision-Tav and himself. Instead, they were just… embracing? What in sweet hells was this?
She lay halfway on top of him. Her hair was mussed, perhaps from sleep or perhaps from previous lovemaking. One hand was drawing absentminded shapes across his chest, her lips trailing behind, leaving kisses in their wake. He watched as vision-Astarion chuckled softly, as his hands slipped beneath her sleepshirt to caress her waist, as he placed an innocent kiss on the top of Tav’s head. Eventually, she reached for his hand. They both watched their fingers intertwine, blissfully content.
It was the purest, unadulterated expression of affection that Astarion had ever seen. Something in his heart quaked at the sight of it. He wanted that moment. He envied, he hated, vision-Astarion for enjoying such apparent happiness.
So absorbed in the vision and its implications, Astarion failed to notice the soft padding of feet that indicated someone’s re-entry into the camp.
“If the two of you are quite finished poking around in my head,” an angry voice suddenly spat from behind them, “I’d appreciate you preserving what little privacy I have left and shutting that damn spell off.”
Mortified, Astarion and Gale turned to see Tav, arms crossed and visibly seething with rage. Gale quickly dispelled the magic with a flick of his wrist. A blush was slowly but surely rising up Tav’s neck to reach her cheeks. Whether from rage or embarrassment, Astarion couldn’t be certain.
“Tav, let us explain-” Astarion started.
“It was his idea-” Gale blurted at the same time, pointing at Astarion.
Both paused, glaring at one another. But Tav would have none of their feeble attempts at backpedaling.
“The explanation doesn’t matter. Whose idea it was doesn’t matter. The fact is that both of you violated the privacy of my mind, which I’ll remind you, has ALREADY been violated by having a bloody tadpole forced inside of it!” Tav shouted. At their words, the camp became enveloped in a heavy silence. Even the crickets ceased their chirping.
Astarion cringed inwardly, knowing the other party members could plainly hear this altercation and had likely stopped whatever it was that they had been doing to listen in. He noted the sounds of swords clanging together had ceased. He was certain Lae’zel and Shadowheart at least were aware of what was happening. Nosy bastards, all of them.
But what disturbed him even more was the realization that Tav’s eyes were welling with tears. She was too proud to acknowledge them or wipe them away. Such was her nature. But they were there nonetheless, and the knowledge that Astarion had brought her to the point of tears was enough to spur a rush of utter self-loathing inside him.
Without another word, Tav turned on her heel and marched stiffly out of camp, toward the direction of a nearby creek they’d identified as a water source earlier in the day.
“I can’t believe I let you convince me to perform that spell,” Gale said as she disappeared between the trees. He dragged his hands down his face.
“How could we have been so doltish, forgetting that all of our privacies have already been violated with this tadpole business?”
Astarion didn’t have an answer to that. At least, not one the wizard could possibly understand.
The thought hadn’t occurred to Astarion, he realized, because violations of privacy had been something so intrinsic to his being for over 200 years. He didn’t even recognize it as something abnormal. Like a fish unaware that the water surrounding it is, in fact, water.
Violations of privacy were a part of life, at least for him. So much so that his request for Gale to perform that magic hadn’t even occurred to him as an overstepping of boundaries. To Astarion, it had simply been a matter of survival. He had needed to know another potentially manipulative person’s true intentions, and so he had found a means to uncover it and maintain the upper hand.
Belatedly, he also realized that Gale’s hesitation to cast the spell had had nothing to do with being inconvenienced for the evening, but because the wizard had known that it was improper to do to another person. If he had misread that, Astarion wondered, then what other truly benevolent behaviors had he mistaken as pragmatic manipulation?
“I need to go find her,” Astarion murmured, clenching and unclenching his fists in an uncharacteristic fit of uncertainty.
“Yes, you do,” Gale asserted. “We both owe her a sincere apology… if she’ll even accept it.”
“I’ll see if I can convince her to come back to camp,” Astarion replied, making to leave in the direction Tav had stormed off.
“Wait,” Gale said, a hand on his shoulder. Astarion turned to meet his gaze.
“Look, well, I’m obviously not an expert in healthy demonstrations of affection. But I do think it’s obvious from what you saw in that spell that Tav well and truly cares about you. In perhaps the purest way possible. Treat that carefully.”
Part of Astarion wanted to laugh aloud in utter hopelessness at the wizard’s advice. Someone cared for him? Truly and purely? No hidden games, no strings attached? Oh certainly, that wouldn’t be a problem for Astarion at all. Obviously, his 200-year existence as a master-manipulator-fetch-hound for a power-hungry vampire lord had perfectly prepared him to respond to this situation in a healthy manner. Obviously.
But all that was too much to reveal to someone he barely knew and too heavy to say aloud. Rather than giving some smarmy retort, Astarion opted instead to give a stiff nod and continue walking toward the edge of camp. He had no idea how he could make things right with Tav, but at the very least he could try.
***
He found Tav sitting on a fallen tree near the edge of the creek bed. Her legs were drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped around them as she rested a cheek to her knees. In the waning twilight, she reminded Astarion of some misbegotten gargoyle perched on the roof of a temple, solitary and so very sad.
Her ears twitched as she noted his arrival. Astarion wasn’t trying to be stealthy. On top of everything else, the last thing he needed to do was scare her.
“Can I join you?” he asked softly, wincing to himself at the awkwardness of the question.
The reality was that there was no way to broach this conversation without some stilted beginning, and he hated it. Navigating tricky conversations was normally something he excelled at. But as he was quickly finding, when it related to Tav, nothing in his past life had prepared him to respond to her well.
“If you’d like,” Tav answered tonelessly.
Knowing it was probably the best response he was going to get, Astarion swallowed thickly and moved to sit down on the log next to her.
“I… wanted to… apologize for what you saw, back at camp,” he began.
“Apologize for doing it, or apologize for getting caught?” Tav asked as she turned her head to look at him, resting her other cheek on her knees.
Astarion balked at the question. Her piercing gaze unnerved him. He hadn’t really thought that far.
“Both, I suppose?” he answered honestly, although it sounded more like a question to Tav. She huffed a laugh.
“You know, part of me really wants to yell at you. Scream in your face. Tell you off proper,” she mused.
“So why don’t you?” Astarion asked, perplexed.
Tav didn’t respond at first, just sat there studying him. As if by staring at him long enough, she could project the answer into his mind.
Astarion didn’t interrupt her, much as he would have liked to. Part of him always bristled when people gazed at him for too long. It was unfair that they could study him, when he hadn’t been able to so much as glance at his reflection in over 200 years.
Finally, Tav released a heavy sigh, her body curling further in on itself. She closed her eyes as she spoke.
“Because then I would be just like every other bastard in your life who’s mistreated you.”
Astarion flinched in surprise. Those had not been the sort of words he’d been expecting. The truth of them cut deeper than had she raged at him like she wanted to. It left him feeling even more vulnerable, and that in turn made him want to retreat into the comfort of viciousness.
“I don’t need you to pull any punches,” he scoffed, glaring at her. “Go ahead and say what you will.”
She straightened up at his tone, opening her eyes and returning his glare.
“No. I don’t want to,” she said testily.
“I don’t need your pity,” he hissed. “It’s insulting.”
“Gods damn it all, Astarion!” Tav exclaimed suddenly, causing him to jump in surprise. She threw her hands up in defeat. “I’m not doing anything out of pity! I don’t want to rage at you, because I know that whatever I say right now, I won’t mean it come the morning!”
Astarion blinked. Once again he was left feeling flat footed by the turn of the conversation. Sensing his surprise, Tav continued on with her deluge of words.
“You hurt me tonight, and I’m angry at you - and at Gale, for that matter - for what you did. But you’ve shared enough of your… history… with me, that I realize your behavior is just… just a byproduct of centuries of abuse and manipulation you’ve endured! And I won’t be another abuser in your life. I won’t,” she asserted.
Astarion continued staring at her, as if she were some otherworldly creature that had just wandered across his path. He watched as Tav inhaled a deep breath, releasing it shakily. She turned away from him to peer out into the forest, uncertain. She opened and closed her mouth several times before actually speaking. As if whatever she was about to say was more intimidating to her than anything else she’d said tonight.
“I… care deeply for you, Astarion,” she said quietly. “You obviously saw that in the vision. I’m not playing any games. There’s no hidden motive. I’m not trying to manipulate you.”
She turned to look at him again before continuing, her breathing a bit unsteady.
“I didn’t sleep with you that night of the tiefling party as some sort of maneuver to gain your trust. Although I understand if that was your motivation for doing so.”
Astarion’s expression morphed into one of guilt. But Tav nodded soberly, as if she had already expected it, before continuing on.
“It’s okay. I’m not angry. But I’m putting all my cards on the table now, so to speak. Actually, your decision tonight forced my hand, but I had been planning on telling you soon anyway. So, there you have it. The truth of my intentions. What you do with that information is up to you.”
She turned back to gaze out at their surroundings. Like she was giving him the opportunity to bolt away without her watching him. As if she expected him to flee from her confession.
But Astarion didn’t flee. He remained seated, staring at her in complete wonderment.
“Why?” he asked quietly.
She looked back at him again, confusion evident on her face.
“Why what?”
“Why do you care for me? You’re so… well-adjusted. And I’m well… this,” he finished lamely, placing a hand on his chest.
Tav pursed her lips. “It would be a mistake to misconstrue my empathy for you as me being well-adjusted. Everyone has their own demons, Astarion,” she murmured. “Mine just look different from yours.”
Astarion mulled her words over in his mind, considering them. He leaned forward to brace his forearms on his knees, his head drooping slightly.
“I…,” he started, unsure. “That vision… what it implied… You deserve something real, Tav. You’re incredible… truly.”
Tav closed her eyes, bracing for the fallout. Even though she would accept his decision, whatever it was, she didn’t think she could bear to watch him deny her. It would hurt too much.
“Look. When we met, I had a plan. A nice, simple plan,” he blurted all at once. Rising swiftly to his feet, Tav watched as he began to pace before her, near to bursting with frenetic energy.
“Seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you’d never turn on me,” he counted off, laughing half-heartedly. “It was… easy - instinctive. Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in. All you had to do was fall for it. And all I had to do… was not fall for you… which is where my nice, simple plan fell apart,” he finished, stopping to stand before her.
She held his gaze, speechless.
“I want you,” he whispered fervently. “I want what was in that vision… I want us to be something real.”
Never in a million years had she thought he would respond to her like this. She opened her mouth to speak, but Astarion cut her off with another sudden exclamation.
“I just don’t know what real is,” he confessed, his tone a touch hysterical. Tav knew from his body language that being this transparent was completely out of Astarion’s comfort zone.
“Being… close to someone - any kind of intimacy - was something I performed to lure people back. For him. Even though I know things between us are different, being with someone still feels… tainted. Still brings up those feelings of disgust, and loathing. I… I don’t know how else to be with someone. No matter how much I’d like to,” he finished, staring at her with beseeching eyes, willing her to understand.
Tav rose to her feet, coming to stand before him.
“I don’t want you for your body,” she whispered. “Or to perform any acts of intimacy. We can be together, without sleeping together, for as long as you need.”
“Really,” he asked softly, his voice pitched low, rough with emotion.
“Really,” Tav asserted, giving him a small smile. “Would it be all right if…” she paused, conflicted. He eyed her curiously.
“Could I hug you?” she whispered.
The fact that she asked before doing so caused a well of emotion to spring up inside him. Eyes watering, Astarion nodded.
Slowly, Tav moved forward to wrap her arms around his waist. Her head nestled into the crook of his neck and shoulder. A perfect fit. He felt her exhale a deep sigh.
Tav hugging him was a sensation unlike any he had ever felt. At least, any he could remember feeling. The act of being touched, embraced, without any desire for something more. She just wanted to hold him, feel him close to her. It was incomprehensible to him, but utterly enjoyable, at the same time.
Slowly, ever so slowly, Astarion raised his arms to return Tav’s embrace. Drawing her even closer, he bowed his head to rest his cheek against her hair. It was soft, like the finest silk. He closed his eyes as he inhaled deeply, appreciating her sweet, floral scent.
She made to pull away after a moment, not wishing to overwhelm him. But Astarion gripped her more firmly, a silent urge for them to stay that way a little longer.
“This… this is nice,” he whispered.
He both felt and heard Tav hum contentedly in response.
It wasn’t identical to the vision from Tav’s mind that he had seen, but Astarion reveled in their embrace nonetheless. It felt like the beginning of something new. And for the first time in his very, very long life, Astarion felt excited at the prospects of what would come next.
If you are still taking requests for Astarion, what about him exploring non-sexual but romantic touch? It seems like he enjoys kissing, even after asserting his boundaries around sex in game so I've been wondering what he would do if Tav or Durge kissed wrist or the tip of his ears or fingers l, etc. Basically gentle, exploring love.
(G/n reader if you could!)
Hi, hi, thanks for being patient with me. I hope you like.
Soft as Starlight - Astarion x GN!Reader
Reader and Astarion share a moment of intimacy that explores what love without sex is like.
"Can I kiss you?" You ask, cuddled up to Astarion in the tent you share.
For a second, his eyes widen, and you worry it was maybe too much, too soon. "I'd like that very much, my Love." He seems giddy and shy about it, like the two of you have never done such a thing.
You plant your lips on his and he returns it, arm looping around your waist to bring you closer. There's a hunger there for your touch that you can sense. Not the type of amorous passion he'd once claimed to enjoy, but the physical show of your love, the kind affection of your touch. Gently, you pull your fingers through his hair, glorying in the silken texture beneath your fingers. In response he hums happily.
"Hmm." You hesitate voicing your next thought until he pulls back to look at you expectantly. "Can I keep going? Not like that," you add when he tenses beneath your fingers.
"You may," he says, not yet relaxing completely.
"Stop me if you're uncomfortable," you reassure, kissing him lightly on the tip of the nose. He nods and you kiss his forehead, leaving him immediately sighing.
Lips find his temple, his cheek, and finally the tip of his ear. A short giggle escapes him. "Watch it," he warns playfully.
"Ticklish, good to know," you tease, but leave it be. You can always come back to that when he's more comfortable.
Fingers have been gently tracing their way down his back and you turn to his arm, caressing it until you come to his hand. Grasping it with both of yours, you rub it gently, and bring his wrist to your lips. Then his palm, his fingers, and the back of his hand, lavishing your love on him.
"Darling," he breathes and his other hand covers his face, lost for words.
"Do I need to stop?" You release his hand, giving him space to make a boundary.
"No, maybe, I don’t know. I'm not used to this."
"It's alright Astarion, I don't want you to be uncomfortable." You settle back down next to him and he takes your hand, taking a turn to squeeze it softly.
"Can I kiss you?" He asks and your heart soars.
"Absolutely," you say instead of shouting giddily like you want.
He surprises you by starting with your cheek, your temple, and then hesitantly grazing your neck. A hand rests gently on your waist, playing with the fabric of your shirt. He nuzzles against the spot on your neck where he kissed. "You're wonderful."
"You're pretty wonderful yourself, Love." You loop your arms around his shoulders and shift so he's laying on your chest. "Can I keep touching you?"
Silently he nods, eyes closed, seeming lost in the moment. With the lightest touches, you rub his back, working your way to his neck and hair. Then you start your way back down. "Never stop," you hear him breathe like a prayer against your skin.
"Never," you promise, kissing his forehead once more bringing, a soft smile to his lips.
okay but can we talk about this: when halsin tells tav he wants her (and Astarion) but you're in a relationship with Astarion so when you go talk to him about it he asks "But answer me one thing, this isn't because haven't.... you know... in a while" because oh boy my heart, just the thought of what must be going through his mind
See, this is also what I was thinking about and I would have loved there to be an option to just listen to Halsin's proposition (because he's a national treasure and just so damn pure) but then be like "listen, you honour me, so thank you, but no thank you. I'm with Astarion and I fear there's no more space in my heart." And then go to Astarion and talk about it with him and reassure him that there is only him for you.
And because I would have liked that, I'm gonna write it out in a drabble:
Astarion / GN!Tav (You)
"First in my heart!"
"You wouldn't believe the talk I just had with Halsin..." You say as you saunter over to Astarion, awkwardly crossing your arms over your chest. What Halsin had just proposed had majorly thrown you off your game - who would have thought the archdruid had it in himself to be so... forthcoming?
Astarion looks up from his book with raised eyebrows but catches your meaning in a heartbeat. He throws his head back and starts laughing. "No way, I was waiting for that to happen actually", he says and puts the book down, then crosses his arms over his chest as well, mimicking you.
Your brows furrow: "How did you..." Astarion lowers his head a little and stares at you. "You must've been blind to not notice the stares he's thrown you since he joined our jolly party. The man's basically a dog barking and salivating at the dinner table that is you - waiting to devour whatever he gets." You blush hard, too stuned to speak and your mouth just falls open - no way this had been actually a thing others had noticed before tonight. But also - can you just hear the slightest strain in Astarion's voice?
"And on top of that", Astarion scoffs "the guy can't stay quiet about 'enjoying the freedom of nature's gifts'. I bet he'd outlaw clothing if he could." The impression Astarion makes of Halsin is incredibly on point, he laughs, seemingly waving the druid's adavnces off but... you see that the laugh doesn't reach the vampire's eyes fully.
Still you are dumbfounded by the developments of the evening, your mouth basically only closing and opening as if you'd been turned into a fish.
"Astarion, I wouldn't...", you finally get out but get immediately interrupted again by the spawn who starts to ramble on about how he doesn't mind, how he'd actually be interested to know how it goes down - and also if Halsin would shapeshift in the bedroom...
And what had been your suspicion from the moment you had started to tell Astarion was now clear for you: no matter how much Astarion would actually be open for you to share the bed with someone else even though the two of you are in a commited relationship - it wouldn't actually be fine for him. Maybe not exactly out of jealousy, but because he is actually insecure albeit he'd never openly admit it. Because he actually does care very much about his relationship to you and is so deeply scared to do anything that will break the spell. So scared actually, he'd rather let you share the bed with someone else despite not being fine with it.
And that makes your heart break because no one should feel forced to do that, right? But luckily for the vampire, you're decision had already been made. More so, there hadn't been a decision to begin with.
"But let me ask one thing", Astarion finally says, his eyes wide now, face open and vulnerable "it's not because... you know... we haven't... in a while?" His eyes almost seem to widen more while desperately waiting for your answer. Even though he doesn't move you can see the fear and nervousness in his posture that is just too tense for his usual nonchalant manner.
Your heart breaks into a thousand pieces: "Oh, Astarion, I'm not... asking for your permission to get nasty with Halsin."
The vampire's face drops completely, his arms fall down limply at his side. You see how shock and hurt start clouding his face. He helplessly opens his mouth: "Oh..." His gaze lowers from yours, flitting around everywhere but your face
Your eyes widen - that is not at all what you meant. "No, no, no, Astarion" - you rush to him and grab him by the shoulders. "No, you didn't catch my meaning. What I'm saying is, I'm not asking permission because there is nothing to ask for. I would never consider being with someone else." His gaze snaps back to yours - his eyes not yet free of worry and hurt.
You lick your lips, desperatly trying to show him what you feel for him. To show him that the reason you hadn't noticed Halsin's interest in you was because you only had eyes for him. And to make sure he knows there will be no one else: "Astarion, you are first in my heart. No, more even, you are the only one in my heart like this - there's no space to share." And because you feel that your feelings might completely overwhelm you, you wrap your arms around the vampire, holding him tightly.
"Oh", Astarion makes again - but this time in a much different tone. He hugs you back, burying his face in your hair.
After a while you lean back and look into his eyes before pressing a kiss to his lips that makes him sigh dreamily. "I'm sorry I doubted you", he whispers, his face still vulnerable. "I'm sorry I made you doubt me", you reply and give him a warm smile.
"Also", you say and grin at him "I think I already had a date with a bottle of wine, a book and a vampire for tonight." Astarion grins back at you and unwraps one of his arms to motion towards the pillows in front of his tent: "Let's not make the bottle wait any longer then."
Finally having arrived in Baldur's Gate, Astarion finds the wrong pocket to pick - and gets turned into a goose as punishement. Peace was never an option.
PART 2 | MASTERLIST | AO3
Author's Note: This might as well have been the stupidest idea I've ever had but I couldn't get it out of my head, so here we are. Thanks for input and giving me some more stupid ideas for this to my bf, @tatterings, @bearhugsandshrugs and @the-littlest-raindrop and @megschaef98 for already cackling about it (and everyone else on that server for your love and support!); ah also Neil Newbon for coming up with this... The wonderful little doodle is once more done by the lovely @azaani-art!
Pairing: Uhm, Goosetarion(Astarion)/GN!Tav (You)
Rating: Stupid
Warnings: goose? (I'm sorry, I'm really just running with the bit by now...)
Wordcount: 3,7k
~~~
A goose sat in front of you all.
And it looked weirdly humanoid how it sat there: tiny rubbery legs stretched out in front of it and the wings too – as if it didn’t know how to properly move or place them.
The goose’s head turned around on the long neck to look at you and your companions out of its small red button eyes. The feathers on top of its head were a bit ruffled and almost gave it the look of having a flurry of white curls right there.
It lifted its stretched out wings a little. Looked at them one after another and made a small croaking noise as it did so.
That made it shut its beak again and snap its red gaze back to you.
You looked down at the goose in shock. The goose looked at you with what you presumed was shock too.
And then it opened its beak wide and started wailing with loud honks, as loud as its avian lungs would allow.
The party had finally arrived at Baldur’s Gate. And then had quickly realised that none of you had really an idea where to start your investigation. So, you had taken to walk around the Lower City and just casually ask around to find out more about what seemed to be going on in the city – especially with this Lord Enver Gortash and his newly established Steel Watch.
The day had been long and exhausting. You all kind of had forgotten how a day without a battle, killing and mortal peril was spent – just walking around in the city, engaging in inconspicuous small talk and trying not to lose your mind by getting nowhere with it – what could possibly be more dreadful than that?
Morale had already been low since the start. Halsin had very obviously been a bit unsettled by the big, bustling city, no matter how much he had tried to hide it. Jaheira had just stoically taken in the city and what had changed since she had last been there. Lae’zel had basically been gnawing on your ears with her complaints of how stupid your approach of talking to people was. That in turn had made Shadowheart almost want to choke her (again). And Wyll had become awfully silent since you’d entered the city – too much was weighing on his mind. Gale was just sad.
Karlach probably was the only one in quite the happy mood: since it’s been a very long time for her since she’s actually been to Baldur’s Gate she was just amazed by everything she saw. And she promptly called that out. Every. Single. Thing. So really not doing anything to help with the low mood of the group.
You had just tried to make the best out of it although you certainly had had to admit to yourself that the missing success of your day had been weighing on you also. But you had tried to be stubborn about it.
Astarion had walked by your side the whole day, surprisingly diligent on his part. You had felt that he was tense – as could have been expected upon entering the lair of his master again. But he had really tried to support you with your current goals – and you were absolutely thankful for that.
But as the day had grown late you had felt the annoyance rise in him too, just as much as it had within you.
It had already become dark in the city. Lanterns and the pale moonlight now had been the only sources of light. You had known that the group should’ve soon gotten back to the inn to retire for the night – despite having found out nothing today.
But you had wanted to push for one last attempt - unfortunately. And when you had happened upon a rather feisty older fellow, Astarion’s thin-stretched patience had finally snapped.
After you had tried to talk to this guy and he had only kept answering in riddles, you had been about to give up when you had noticed that the vampire beside you had disappeared.
You had feared nothing good from this finding and sure as all Nine Hells you had seen how Astarion had tried to sneak up on this man and pickpocket him.
And this had been, when things had really gone sideways – and then backwards; and down a hill.
With Astarion’s hands still in his robe the man had turned around to the vampire and looked him straight in the eye: “What do you think you’re doing there, young man?” He hadn’t even sounded awfully angry, rather a bit amused.
Astarion had simply blinked at him, absolutely dumbfounded that he had so easily been found out. The guy had watched him for a second longer with a small, suppressed smile playing on his lips and then started to whisper as an ominous purple glow had started to emit from him.
The vampire had hastily tried to scurry back, but it was already too late. An explosion of purple light had blinded you all and made you turn away with groans.
And when you had turned around again, both men standing there had been gone, only a single goose left in their place that had looked dazed and very out of place.
So here you were now: with a vampire turned into a screaming goose.
You really didn’t know if you wanted to laugh or cry – probably both. The wailing from polymorphed Astarion was ringing in your ears. Gods, geese could be really loud, couldn’t they?
You looked around your group of friends in desperate need for help.
Karlach had completely lost it, almost doubled over on the cobblestone street. Even Lae’zel bit her bottom lip in an attempt to not burst out laughing, covering half her face with one of her hands. But most of your other companions just looked as shocked and surprised as you.
Gale had his hand on his chin and was obviously very deep in thought – surely, he was already figuring something out to fix this mess. At least you immediately deeply hoped for it.
For a moment you just stood there. Warm, orange light from some nearby windows was lighting the absurd scene. The goose’s wailing drifted to the background for a few moments as your vision blurred and your gaze wandered miles away.
How exactly had you ended up in this ridiculous situation? Out of everything, how had all the steps you had taken led you to this night where your already traumatised soulmate had been turned into poultry and was now shouting the whole city down? Didn’t you have enough on your godsdamned plate already? Would the damned gods ever give you a break?
Your eyes started to burn and water as you stared into the void. You really couldn’t take much more.
But how many times had you been at this point? Too many already anyways.
So, you did, what you always did: took a deep breath, closed your eyes for a hot second, pressed your fingers to the bridge of your nose and tried to focus your thoughts again.
You’d find a way out of this and if not… Well, you’d find a way to live with Astarion as a goose, for better or for worse.
When you focused again on the scene, you saw how Halsin was slowly approaching the goose that was Astarion and was still honking as if his life depended on it – and maybe it did, who knew? Gale was whispering an incantation and focusing on the goose. The rest was just still standing around with quizzical looks on their faces or casually losing it and losing their last shreds of sanity.
Halsin had almost reached the crying bird, all the while softly mumbling calming words to Astarion. The druid stretched out his arms as if he planned to pick up the still screaming animal.
But just before he could reach it, Astarion saw it coming, stopped his whining and jumped up with fluttering wings. With a quickness that would have been astounding for such an animal, had you not known that it was normally a dexterous rogue, the goose got up from its awkward sitting position and snapped at the fingers of the druid. Halsin immediately recoiled and looked a little hurt.
Astarion was flaring his big white wings now – lifting them up and his long goose neck stretched out, ready to snap again at anyone that tried to touch him. At least he had stopped honking now and was just swaying his head around at all of you standing around him in a loose half circle – ready to fight anyone who would dare touch a single feather on his head.
“Astarion?”, you asked cautiously, fearing that the transmutation hadn’t altered the vampire’s mind as well. The goose immediately turned to you, a small and much more silent honk left its throat. Its wings lowered a little as soon as it heard your voice. “I know this will sound stupid given the situation, but uh, please try to calm down?”, you asked him and made a grimace while you helplessly stretched out your arms to him, bending your knees.
Astarion honked once more in a clearly annoyed tone and let his wings sink fully as if he was letting his shoulders drop in defeat.
“I’m sorry”, you whispered and felt a wave of sadness wash over you. Meanwhile the others had started to get out of their stupor or calmed themselves from their laughter. Everyone stayed clear of the clearly readily violent goose though.
You crouched down fully and stretched out your arms even more towards the animal that kept watching you intently. With no more words or honks, the goose settled down its wings and carefully waddled over to you and your opened arms.
Once Astarion was very close you couldn’t help yourself but go to your knees and reach out both your arms wider for the animal – ready to give it a hug. Astarion slowly stepped into them and you carefully wrapped your arms around the goose as it made a small honk. It sounded pretty sad and helpless and you could suddenly feel tears well up in your eyes.
You held the much smaller animal. The feathers were surprisingly soft and Astarion carefully placed his small goose head on your shoulder with another quiet honk. It was so light you could barely feel it at all resting there.
The mood in the group had suddenly soured watching you take your partner in your arms – no matter the actual ridiculousness of the situation.
You held the goose and petted it softly, until Gale interrupted the awkward silence with an exclamation.
“Aha”, the wizard made and came back out of his trancelike concentration. He looked around in some confusion as everyone watched the tragic scene of you sadly hugging the poor animal that had awkwardly stretched out its wings a little to return the sentiment – it hadn’t really worked well.
“Uhm”, Gale made and then cleared his throat to catch everyone’s attention. The group just looked at him in silence.
“By the gods, what is with the sudden graveyard atmosphere? You all do realise Astarion is not de- I mean…”, he started sassily and interrupted himself when he realised his mistake. And before he could start again, the bird in your arms had started writhing and honking again. Obviously, Astarion had opinions on not getting the same kind of compassion from Gale as from the others now.
He tried to break free from your arms, but you held him easily – he was just… a goose after all. Although, you got whacked in the face by his wings several times. “Astarion!”, you scolded him. “I really don’t think you’re in a position to be feisty right now. And I’m pretty sure he has something to share that will help about the situation you are in. And might I add, the situation you put yourself in on your own!” A bit of anger welled up in you at the vampire and his godsdamned shenanigans that had landed you all in this mess now. Also his audacity to still be sassy about it – not even being turned into a featherball could stop him from that, it seemed.
The goose calmed down, reluctantly. Its beak was still open as it stared at the wizard – probably the equivalent of the vampire baring his teeth at him. You carefully let him go and just sat down backwards on the ground. You could use it right now.
“Now, if we’re not in a poultry house anymore”, Gale continued cheerily and gave the present poultry a death glare. The goose gave a very slight hiss – at least he had retained that capability.
You waved Gale to please go on.
“Alright, it’s – as you might’ve figured already – a transmutation spell. And might I add a mighty one. I really have no idea who that fellow was, but it surely was the wrong pocket to pick, Astarion – or might I say Goosetarion”, the wizard explained in his scholarly manor and wiggled a finger at the goose while grinning – earning himself another hiss. At least someone present seemed intrigued about the whole situation.
Hearing that it was a mighty spell already let your heart sink. But Gale went on and everyone just listened intently: “The good news is though: transmutations spells can’t be held for overly long. So, I’d say we’re back with our sassy humanoid companion in about…” Gale drew out his words as everyone hung on his lips.
“I’d say twenty-four hours at the latest.”
“TWENTY-FOUR HOURS”, came back the answer in unison from almost all the companions – and a mournful honk. Your mouth fell open but honestly you were immediately flooded with relief that you wouldn’t have to spend the rest of your life with a goose – although you would have committed to that.
“Tchk, and what are we going to do with him in the meantime? Walk him around on a leash? We can’t waste any time!”, Lae’zel commented. Karlach started to snicker again, and so did Shadowheart and Wyll around her.
Goosetarion small red eyes flashed viciously and he quickly lashed out at her like he had at Halsin before, aiming for the githyanki ankle. But Lae’zel had the upper hand and quickly pushed him away with her foot – not exactly kicking him but not exactly being gentle either.
The goose landed ungracefully on its back, legs flailing in the air while it kept complaining and trying to get up again.
“Lae’zel”, you shouted but she simply shrugged at you.
“Well, what else are we going to do? Tomorrow will just be another day of walking around the city trying to gather more information. What harm can it be then? Also, it’s not like we could just leave him here anywhere anyway. Beastly as he is, but he’s still only a goose now, we need to protect him”, Wyll chimed in sympathetically. You nodded your head in agreement and the others muttered their agreement, although some just a tad reluctantly.
Goosetarion in the meanwhile had waddled back over to you to be embraced again, head hanging slightly, doing his best to look like… well, a kicked goose.
You softly stroked his long feathery neck and noticed to your amusement that his rump started to wiggle when you did that. It surely seemed he wasn’t aware that he was doing that. You couldn’t hide a grin and you saw that Halsin grinned at you and the goose too.
“Can we just go back to the inn then? It’s already super late and my feet hurt”, Shadowheart added after it had been settled. Everyone hummed in exhausted agreement.
And so you went on your way. You softly got up from your seat on the cobble road while the goose complained about the lack of caressing happening. You stretched your back and watched after your friends that had already started to walk back towards your location for the night.
“Want me to carry you?”, you asked looking down at the goose and stretched out your arms again. But Goosetarion gave a curt honk and stretched his long neck away from you in an offended manner, then started to waddle after the others.
Now that you knew that he would hopefully be back to his normal humanoid self very soon, the humorous nature of the situation wasn’t as lost on you anymore. The way the goose wiggled its whole torso around while trying to catch up with the others was a sight to behold. Especially if you compared it with Astarion’s usual feline grace. And yet he was way too proud to just accept help.
You snorted and started to follow behind Goosetarion. He heard that and swung his head around while he kept walking, making him look even more ridiculous. You snorted more. And were pretty sure you could see the small red eyes scream bloody murder at you for mocking him.
But Astarion was way too focused and needed all his energy to keep up. Occasionally, he even had to break into a sprint – almost tripping over his rubbery feet and spreading out his wings to not lose balance. It was truly hilarious.
Some idle chatter developed between the companions and you on the way back. And of course, Goosetarion was the subject matter.
“Is there nothing you can do before the spell runs out?”, you asked Gale at some point while you were careful to walk exactly by the goose to offer at least a little protection.
“Oh, believe me, I would if I could – although I have to say I’m enjoying this situation a little bit-“ (“HONK!”) “ but it is, as I pointed out before, a pretty powerful spell. And if I started to fumble with it I might make it worse and-“ (“Honk…”) “- and I guess you’d rather have him back in one piece”, Gale ended and ignored the bickering animal between him and you. You nodded in agreement with the wizard – seemed your safest bet would be to just sit this one out.
“Looks like until tomorrow you’re just going to be a silly little goose then, aren’t you, Asta-OWW!” That had been a line crossed for Goosetarion. And other than Halsin and Lae’zel, the wizard surely was not quick enough to avoid the rogue goose’s vicious attack on his ankles. Gale awkwardly tried to kick at the goose but Goosetarion had learnt from the last time and quickly ducked out of the way, rushing around you so he could hide behind your legs.
“You had that one coming”, you mumbled under your breath as Gale looked at you hurt. He walked a little faster then, trying to steer clear from the murderous bird and engaged others in conversation. Goosetarion waddled through your legs so he was walking in front of you again although you noticed that he was clearly starting to struggle
“And couldn’t you not just at least cast “Speak with animals” or something?”, Karlach took up the conversation about Goosetarion’s fate. You hadn’t even thought of that so far. You had just been too occupied with the situation as a whole. You simply shrugged because you had absolutely no idea.
“But he is not an animal”, Jaheira replied to Karlach’s suggestion in her matter-of-fact demeanor from in front of you. Halsin beside her nodded silently. “He is still his vampiric elven self, just temporarily in another form. Even if Halsin or I wildshaped into geese we would not be able to speak with him because we are at least partly beast when we turn”, the infamous druid added to her explanation. “As far as I know there is no spell to work in this situation. But quite frankly maybe we could all do without his yapping for at least a day and he learns a lesson about all of this”, she finished and gave the goose a stern look.
Goosetarion stopped and made another rather sad honk. He really must have been having the worst and most humbling of times.
You stopped just behind the goose: “I’m sure she didn’t mean it.” The look Jaheira gave you made sure though that she absolutely did, but you brushed over it. You held out your arms to the goose again. However, Goosetarion again just waddled off on his own.
But the way to the inn was long and the goose was soon almost completely exhausted, probably amplified by not being used to moving around like that. At some point, when you had already slid out of all the other conversations and were just deep in your thoughts, you were stopped by another soft honk just below you.
Astarion stood before you and had spread his wings towards you, neck craned up towards you. It again looked weirdly humanoid with the way he moved and behaved. When you didn’t immediately react because you were really just very exhausted and didn’t catch on, the goose started to kind of hop in place and honked again.
“Oh, you want to be picked up! Sorry”, you replied and bent down to awkwardly grab the animal.
After some wriggling around and Astarion’s earnest tries to not writhe around too much in your arms, you were able to lift him up. He was stretching his neck and small feet out and made small noises that made you think that he wasn’t quite very comfortable with what was happening. But he gave his best to cope.
Once you kind of had him settled down on your hip, one arm around him and one under him to support him, he seemed to be considerably more comfortable, better even. When you had caught up to the others again and Gale sassily lifted an eyebrow at the goose now being carried around, Astarion made full use of his long neck to peck at the wizard’s sleeve.
Gale squealed again – much to the amusement of the rest of the group and made sure to keep even more distance from the goose. Goosetarion gave a contented honk then and refrained from biting anyone else for the rest of the way.
You were still laughing softly with the others, when the inn came into view. At least you hadn’t lost your humour so far.
OKAY, so I KNOW I've already kinda done these for Danse, Hancock, and X6-88, but those were headcannons and these are reactions. Totally different. So... they're all going to be on here eventually.
Included Below: Deacon, Gage, Maxson, and X6-88.
(I have NO idea why Gage's is so ungodly long, but just bare with me on it, it's worth it I think 😂)
The next part will be the rest of the companions from FO4, so be on the lookout for that... eventually 😅 I hope you all enjoy! And, as always, if you want to see anyone else, just let me know! I love doing this sweet shit.
(Also, sorry I've been a wee bit MIA for the past couple weeks, things are picking up at school, but I'm still here, and I'm still writing! Things are just going even s l o w e r than usual, so just bare with me, and I thiiiiiiink I'm gonna open up requests again pretty soo, but I'll put an announcement out for that when I do!) <3
Deacon:
Deacon’s eyes narrowed from beneath his shades as Sole approached. He was happy to see her, beyond excited, actually. He’d been grinning ear to ear like an idiot all day knowing that she would return to their shared home in Sanctuary after her extended soiree out into the Commonwealth for the past week.
Without him.
Yeah, no, he's not bitter about it or anything. He really was psyched though. It'd been months since they'd been separated this long, and the codependency was really making itself known to him these past few days. The anxiety really reminded him of old times.
Damn, it was good to see her. Especially returning to him unharmed. Yeah, that really was a plus.
But something was off.
Sole walked up to him quickly, her hands absent-mindedly wringing themselves out as she forced a grin. Though her eyes were on him, they seemed almost to look through him as he bridged the gap between their bodies at a light jog.
“Hey, hey. There she is! My little Nuka Cola pie.” Deacon wrapped his arms around her, feeling a number of eyes from the community on his back as the Minuteman General returned to her basis of operations.
It seemed Deacon was never quite welcoming her back alone.
As he held her, he could feel Sole's heartbeat pounding out of her chest, even as she made a show of smiling and wrapping her arms firmly around her partner in return, waving to the others with one hand, while the other clung tightly to his back.
“We need to talk.” She whispered in his ear as they held each other, and Deacon’s jaw clenched.
“You got it.” He whispered, trying to keep the reluctance out of his voice. They pulled away and strolled through the community, trying not to seem conspicuous as they made their way home. Sole paused a few times to speak to settlers, to give Preston an update on the settlements she had helped while she was away, to give Dogmeat a few well-deserved scratches. Finally though, the pair found themselves alone in their living room as the sun kissed the horizon, and the pale outlines of stars formed in the darkening sky above their shared home.
Deacon gestured to the couch, intending to get his counterpart a beverage while she finally took a rest, but she held onto his other hand tightly, planting her feet where they stood in the center of the room.
“So. Is there something I need to be concerned about? This, uh, quick pulse of yours… it’s really putting my mind at ease, I’ve gotta tell ya.” He threw his partner a half smile, hoping to diffuse whatever kind of tension was lingering in the air before the pin dropped.
It didn’t work.
“It’s, well... It's big. I’m not going to lie to you--”
“Oh, well how out-of-character for you.”
God, why did I say that? It’s not even funny. And not even accurate. Deacon's face crinkled a bit from beneath his shades as he felt his own heartbeat pick up.
Sole smiled at him. Out of pity, for sure.
“No, I know. That’s usually your department.”
Oh, humoring me, how nice of her.
“Anyway,” She continued, and Deacon flinched visibly.
Whatever it is, I guess it’s coming.
“We’ve been together a while now, we’ve been through a lot together, and I know we’ve both had so much on our minds the entire time, but we’ve always been really good about certain things… But now, things are starting to change, around us, between us, and I don’t think--”
“Wait.” Deacon panicked again, squeezing her hand in his own as her eyes stayed locked on his. He didn’t know what he wanted her to wait for, he just…
“Don’t do this." He continued hastily, "Whatever this is about, we can figure it out, okay? I know we’ve had a good run and all, but there’s no reason to cut it short, right? That ‘quit while you’re ahead’ stuff is just bullshit, I promise you. I know it’s not always gumdrops and fuzzies, and carrot flowers, but come on, just up and leaving can’t be the answer. Not after everything... Everything we've been through, you know?” Deacon didn’t even know what he was saying anymore, didn’t know what he had done to warrant this detrimental anti-development in their relationship, but he knew it must have been something serious to have Sole all worked up like this.
Did she hear something about me? Did I do something? Did I not do enough? How could I let this happen?
“No, no, Deacon. Calm down. It’s nothing like that, alright? I’m not going anywhere.”
What?
He was sure that was where this conversation was headed, he was positive, from the moment he saw her walking towards him, that troubled look on her face, her quickened pulse, the way her voice shook… but he was wrong?
“It’s… well, it’s sort of the opposite, really.” Deacon’s eyebrows scrunched together as her hand squeezed his even tighter than before, practically cutting off the blood flow in the process. Not that Deacon really noticed.
Sole’s face flushed a moment and the Railroad spy’s mind raced, trying to catch up with his frantic heartbeat as he studied her expression.
“That’s, I mean, that’s good, then." He tried, "A relief, honestly. I thought I was gonna have to spend the rest of my days trying to dig up another 200 year-old popsicle out in the wastes so I could replace you. Odds are they still wouldn’t quite cut it, you know what I mean?”
Look, okay, Deacon usually wasn’t overly fond of himself, of who he was, he'll be the first to admit it; but there were certain special times where he hated himself just that much more. Now was one of those times.
What the hell is even coming out of my mouth anymore? Don't I know when to just shut up? Ugh.
To Sole’s credit, and Deacon’s relief, she laughed at his poor attempt at humor in this tense moment. Chalk up another pity laugh for the guy in the sunglasses, let’s see how many more we can get before this horrible conversation is over.
“Okay, yeah, you don’t need to worry about that.” Sole’s eyes found their way back to his, and she released his one hand so she could bring both of hers up to rest atop his shoulders.
“What I was going to say,” She continued, as Deacon held his breath, “Is that, since we’ve been together so long and had so much on our minds, I don’t think we’ve been as careful as we used to be.”
Deacon’s mouth parted slightly as he thought through her words and tried to decipher the meaning of them. Sole looked at him with an insistent expression, like she had just revealed something substantial to him, with the way her eyes locked to his beneath raised brows, the way they searched for a reaction he didn’t have readily available.
A couple of sounds sputtered from his throat in his effort to form words, but he didn’t know what the hell she wanted from him.
Being 'careful'? Was she concerned about their safety?
“Are you… Are you hurt?” He tried, “Cuz, while I’d love to help, I’ve gotta just ask, you know I wasn’t there, right? This whole week? If you weren’t careful out there, I’m not sure how much of the blame you can actually push into my pockets, miss 'go alone'.”
“No, ugh.” Sole’s head fell back as she groaned, but her hands re-adjusted their firmness on his shoulders and she leaned closer to him, taking a deep breath before bringing her gaze back to lock with his. A faint shadow of a smile played at her lips as she looked at him with renewed intensity.
“It’s not that kind of ‘careful’... What I’m trying, and failing to say is, well, Deacon… We’re going to have a baby.”
In that moment, Deacon was glad for the hands at his shoulders, steadying him as his entire world seemed to shift. As the breath rushed out of his lungs, as his heartbeat redoubled, as his brain filled with useless air and he lost all feeling in his body. He felt like he was going to pass out, as the news settled into his very bones.
He didn’t know what to do.
He felt like embracing Sole, like spinning her around and kissing her and laughing until he cried. The shaky relief he felt at her assurance that their relationship wasn’t over was amplified into a thunderous avalanche of emotion greater than any that the damaged threshold that was his mind and heart had let him experience in years. There was so much that he wanted to say, to do; but only one thing he could do.
He fell into his partner, the resistance of her hands pressed at his shoulders proving futile as he collapsed into Sole, wrapping his arms as tightly around her as he could manage. His sunglasses fell from his head and clattered to the wooden floorboards as he pressed his forehead into Sole’s shoulder, as his knees shook to the point of nearly buckling, and his voice continued to fail him as the pressure in his throat increased. Unable to keep the tears at bay, they flowed freely, coating the fabric of Sole’s shirt as he shakily held them to his body in a vice grip.
“Woah, Deacon, are you okay? Did you hear me right?” Sole brought her arms further around him, releasing his shoulders and stroking up and down his back as his body was wracked with emotion. She didn’t receive a verbal response, but she felt his head nod further into the crook of her neck.
Sole didn’t say any more, she just kept rubbing soothing circles over his soft cotton t-shirt as she rested her chin on his hunched over shoulder. The quivery breaths that left him rocked into her, and she found herself trying to stave off her own wave of emotion in response to his reaction.
Finally, he pulled back, his clear, blue eyes still shining with unshed tears, paths of wetness shone on his pink, puffy cheeks, and Sole was relieved to find a weak smile touching his lips. He sniffled once, and pulled back enough to wipe the backs of his hands over his face.
“Hoo-ey, sorry about that.” His voice still shook slightly as he forced the words from his strained throat, “You know how it can be, getting something in your eye. Really messes me up.”
Sole rolled her eyes, letting out a few chuckles as she smiled at her partner, her own eyes still glistening as she felt some of the anxiety leave her at the sight of his grinning face.
“You’re, ah, not just messin’ with me, right?”
“No, sweetie. This is happening.”
He let out a breath. “Good, cuz… I’ve gotta tell you, I’m so fucking happy.” He pulled her into an embrace again, this one softer than the last, as his hand stroked over her hair, and he pressed his lips to the side of her head. “I love you, you know that, right? I love you so damned much, and this... This is more than I’ve ever deserved.”
She hmm-ed in response, her arms tightening around him as she leaned into the pressure of his lips on her temple.
"I can't believe it..." Deacon pulled back slightly, looking down at her stomach with a grin so large it almost scrunched his eyes over completely.
"We're gonna be a family."
Gage:
Gage sat down heavily on the old, worn couch, his head falling to the rough sanctuary of his own calloused palms. The sun was going down again. Why the hell did it have to do that? It just meant another wasted day, another day with no damn luck, another day of Sole being fucking lost.
Gage had looked everywhere.
All the parks, every damn inch of Fizztop, he’d checked the bars, he’d hassled the other bosses, threatening to wring the neck of the one who had Sole in their possession, but all had insisted she was elsewhere.
Then he’d come here.
She hadn’t been back to Sanctuary in months, she said this wasn’t no home to her anymore anyhow. That she belonged with the raiders in Nuka World, with him. He almost scoffed at the thought now.
If that were the case, why the hell did you leave, huh?
Still though, Gage couldn’t overlook her old home, just in case.
Worst part of it was, he didn’t even know why she’d left. They were fine, he thought, they were great, he’d even say. The bosses weren’t giving no flak, or backtalk as they almost always did, the raiders were doing better than they had in years, and him an’ Sole, well… Gage had never been so happy in his damned life. It’d only been a few months since they’d gone “public” with the whole thing, but he felt closer to Sole than he had to anyone, cared about her more than anyone, or anything for that matter.
It was fuckin’ weird.
He knew that he’d put his life, an’ everything he owned on the line for her without a second thought, and that shit was weird. Maybe that’d made him a shitty raider, but damn, he’d been a good partner, he thought.
Guess maybe I was wrong.
The way she’d been acting all these months though… He’d thought she felt the same as he did. Thought she’d loved him. Maybe he was just dumb and "in love" himself. He didn’t have much experience when it came to all this, but he’d thought it wouldn’t matter, not with how strong his feelings were for her. Hell, he’d hardly thought he’d even had the things before Sole came along, but now all those feelings of his were boiling to the surface in a way he’d never experienced.
It was like he’d been in one wicked fight, he ached all over, and not just on the inside, where those feelings are meant to stay. It was like he’d been in a tussle with a goddamn gatorclaw. His shoulders ached, and his feet hurt, he’d had a headache for two days now, and his guts were churnin’ like they were crawling with mirelurk hatchlings. In all his years as a ruthless raider, he’d never felt ache like this.
Why? Why had she gone?
The question kept rattling around his head as he thought through every mistake he’d made since the day he’d met her. And hell, who was he kidding? There’d been a shit ton.
But that doesn’t fucking matter now. He forced himself to think. She’ll explain everything when I see her again, I just need to fuckin’ find her.
The metal of Gage’s eyepatch dug into the skin of his cheek as he grimaced, the heel of his left hand grinding into his eye socket as he shook his head, his face heating with emotion he’d refused to let burst forth over the last five days.
Damn. I need some fucking sleep.
He sighed aloud, letting his hands fall from his face to grasp the weathered couch cushions beneath him, where they continued their uneasy clenching. He’d hardly even sat down since waking to find their shared bed empty on one side, almost a week ago now. Hardly ate or slept either. When had she gotten such a hold on him like this?
Gage thought through his options. He could keep looking ‘till he keeled over from exhaustion, he could get shot by some wasteland rascal cuz he couldn’t dodge fast enough in his fatigued state, he could try to make it back to Nuka World, but he’d already looked for her there a hundred times. He could sleep here tonight and… And what? Keep on looking for her after wasting hours being unconscious?
None of the options seemed all that good. Least if he slept though, he’d probably be less likely to get himself killed…
“Where the fuck are you, love?”
He asked her empty house. A chilling breeze was all that answered, sending a shock through Gage’s body as he prepared to stand and make his way to the room where she once slept. With her spouse… Before the war, with her baby in the next room over. How the fuck could he have been able to believe that someone like her could fall for him? They were so different, and he’d almost forgotten. She’d always assured him that they wanted the same things, that she was happy to be with him, but that was months ago.
Good to know she finally got her priorities figured out. She’s always deserved better. Just wish she’d have said somethin’ before runnin’ off. That’s all.
A creak in the floorboards sounded behind him, and Gage swiveled his head towards the sound expectantly.
“I told you Garvey, I’m not meaning no trouble. Just here to spend the night. So you can get off my ass and get back to your damn patrol. I’m not gonna cause any trouble.”
“But trouble’s always what you’ve been best at.”
“Shit.” He breathed, his good eye widening as he turned around fully. “Baby, that you?”
“It’s me.” Sole said softly, nodding as she stepped all the way into the house and closed the door behind her.
“Fuck, I was worried ‘bout you. Where you been, huh?” Gage rounded the couch, meeting her just inside the entryway as he folded her into himself in an embrace. He hadn’t even realized he was doing it until his arms were wound tightly around her.
“You alright?” He asked her softly, arms refusing to relent in their tight grasp until his heartbeat slowed back to a normal rate, ‘till his breathing started up again, ‘till all he could smell and feel was her.
Damn, she makes me soft.
“Yeah, I’m okay.” Just a moment more he clung to her, sighing slightly as her arms squeezed his waist, but when they fell back to her sides, he let his own unravel around her. He meant to pull away, to give her space if she needed it, but he found he just couldn’t. Instead, Gage’s thumbs and fingertips remained lightly on either side of her hips as he took a half step back, as far from her as he felt he could physically go.
Any further, an’ who knows? She could run off again. His brain tried to reason.
Gage's good eye narrowed as he looked down at her, holding off on any more questions in case Sole offered him some explanation of her own accord.
As much as he wanted to wring the truth out of her, to try and expel some of the tension growing in him, some of the fear that there was somethin’ that he did to make her scamper back to the house she swore would never be a home to her again, he knew that trying to force anything out of the stubborn Overboss would be a mistake. If she wanted him to know, she’d tell him. Simple as that.
But what if she don’t?
“You look tired, Gage.” Her calm voice and the smooth caress of her fingers on his weathered cheek tore him from his thoughts, and he felt a bit of the anxiety drain out of him at her tender touch. Still though, the raider couldn’t keep from clenching his jaw at the words she spoke.
No shit I look tired. I’ve spent the last five days awake and lookin’ for you, jackass.
“Well, ya see,” He said slowly, trying to hold back the tone of frustration in his voice that he’d easily let loose if he was talking to anyone but her, “A certain Overboss went an’ got herself lost or somethin’. She’s been missing a few days, and leavin’ her second back in the dust to worry about her. So, I’m thinkin’ you can’t blame the guy for lookin’ half dead.”
“I’m sorry.” Her eyes fell to Gage's chest, refusing to meet his gaze, even as he tilted his head downward, trying to catch even a hint of what was going through the damn woman’s head.
This ain’t like her to be meek like this. I can’t do this shit anymore. I gotta know what the hell's goin' on.
“Why’d you leave me, huh? Why’d you run off, sweetheart?” He tried to be soft, bringing one calloused knuckle up to brush away a stray hair from her face. Even if it made his stomach churn uncomfortably to act in such a way, so against how he's been acting all his life; still, it was easier with her than it ever had been before.
“'Sweetheart' huh?” A scoff of laughter left her, “I must’ve done something right for you to be calling me that.” She backed away from the contact of Gage’s hands, looking down at the floor as she moved around him with suddenly hurried steps. He closed his eyes and allowed his jaw to clench as his hands fell back down to his sides. Sighing, he turned around to face her once more.
“Alright, sweetheart, why don’t you cut the shit an' tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it, an’ we can get you back home, hm?” He kept his voice level as he trailed her to the sofa, and took a seat beside her as she plopped down, moving slowly and deliberately all the way, as though one sudden movement on his part would scare her off again. He didn’t know what caused her to run away in the first place, but he sure as hell wasn’t gonna let it happen that way again. Her leaving him, without a word, a sign, a goddamn note, anything. Least he could do was make sure that he wasn’t gonna be the cause of a repeat scenario, no matter what set off the first.
“Really? I've never known you to be the one to fix anything, Gage." She let out a puff of dry laughter, bringing a hand up to rub at her face wearily, "And this, well… What's happened, why I left, I don’t think of it as a problem really, but you… I don’t know. I don't know how you're going to feel about it, but there's nothing I can do, nothing I want to do to change it, and-- ugh, I just don't know.”
For fuck’s sake, please spit it out so we can put this shit behind us.
Gage swallowed hard as the anxiety rose in his chest, and his hands flexed impatiently from their place in his lap.
“Yer scarin’ me a bit there Sole, not gonna lie. You gonna tell me what’s goin’ on, or you gonna make me guess? I warn you though, shit could take awhile.”
“No, no… I’ve gotta tell you.” Despite her words, Sole made no move to continue her sentence, and Gage just stared, brow raised, and waited for whatever news it was she had for him.
Maybe I was wrong. He thought sourly. Maybe it would take less time for me to try an’ guess.
“Well… Go on then.” He said, reaching out to stroke along her thigh lightly, and down to her clasped hands, taking one of hers into his own gingerly.
Is this reassuring at all? Shit, I hope I’m doing this right.
“What is it you need to tell me, boss?”
“Please don’t call me that, not… Not right now. Not with what I’m about to say. This isn't an 'Overboss and second in command' thing, this is a you and me thing.”
“Well shit, girl, if I knew what you was about to say, maybe I wouldn’t call you the wrong fucking thing.” The fatigue came out in him, and he closed his eye tightly at the rough sound of his voice as it left his strained throat.
Sure I wish I could take that back. Dammit. Why the hell do we need to talk about 'you and me', anyway, huh? I thought shit was going well.
“This is what I’m talking about, Gage.” Sole pulled away roughly from the touch of his hand on hers, scooching over and folding her arms over her chest as she faced him more directly, and Gage had to fight back a groan of frustration.
“This is why I was afraid to tell you the truth. You can’t just lash out and say whatever you want all the time. I know you’re a raider, you’re used to behaving like a fucking barbarian all the time, without any filter, any consequences; but dammit, what if there were? What if your behavior had actual, real repercussions on someone besides yourself? Have you ever thought about that?”
Despite Gage’s better judgment, he felt rage stirring in his gut, causing a snarl to form on his face as he refuted.
“Why the hell are you acting like you ain’t like I am? You’re the fucking Overboss of Nuka World, of all those fucking raiders. You’re no goddamn saint yourself.”
Gage found himself up and pacing before he even realized he'd moved. Prowling around the coffee table like a cornered mongrel, teeth bared, and the heat of frustration and desperation reddening the visible parts of his face with every feverish step he took around the darkened living room.
“And the fuck are you talking about? What consequences? What repercussions? We do what we have to to survive, to keep a handle on our people and our way of life, I thought you fucking knew that. You told me this shit wouldn’t happen, when I told you the way I felt about you, I said you were too good for me, you remember? That all these feelings o’ yours would fade, that one day you’d realize that you deserve better, that you’d want more, that you wouldn’t want nothing to do with the fucking raiders, with fucking me, once you got that shit outta your system, that you’d wake up and want out of this little… whatever the hell it is we have. You remember that? Fuckin’ told you so. Dammit Sole, you couldn'ta saved me the trouble and just realized it back then? Shit.”
Gage collapsed back down onto the couch, his hands shaking from his outburst as his chest rose and fell with exertion. Sole only stared, open mouthed as his eyes fell to the floor, his expression a mixture of frustration, shame, and deep sadness as he came down from his adrenaline.
“Honestly though, Sole?" He said softly, "Thought it woulda happened months ago, so guess I should just be grateful that you stuck with me this long. So… Thanks for that, I guess.”
The raider stared hard at the filthy floor beneath his feet, the pressure in his throat causing an unfamiliar rise of heat in his face as his eyes threatened to fill with unwanted drops of emotion.
Shit. Did I just… End it? I better fucking not have. The hell was I thinking?
The pressure moved from his throat to his chest. He wasn’t sure if it was just cuz he was tired, or he really did care that much, but he hadn’t felt this emotional in… Well, he couldn’t even remember when. He wiped at his face with one of his hands, feeling Sole’s gaze burning into him as she waited for… What?
How am I supposed to know what to do, huh? I was never any good at this shit, an’ she knows it.
The couch shifted beside him as Sole stood, and Gage finally looked up to see her trying to brush past him. He stopped her with a hand on her forearm.
“Where you goin’, huh? We ain’t done yet.”
“No, Gage, I think we are.” She said the words quietly, but the shaking in her voice was unmistakable.
“Darlin’," He said, rising off the couch until the pair were face to face. "I ain’t lettin’ you go to sleep like this. An’ trust me, no one wants to sleep more than me right now, but… You know. Wasn’t it you who told me never to go to sleep when yer pissed off at your partner? Eh?" He tried to catch her eye as he threw her a small smile, lowering his face to meet her downturned gaze. "Wasn’t that you? Well, practice what you preach, or whatever. Let's get this thing figured out.”
I don’t know who started all this shit, but dammit, I’m gonna finish it.
“Why’d you leave, Sole? You know you can tell me. Who the hell am I to judge you? You know me, right?”
Still, she remained silent, and Gage let out a breath as he felt his overtired impatience rise to the heated surface once more.
“If you wanna end it, you’re gonna have to tell me at some point, you know? May as well just get the shit outta the way.”
“I don’t want to end it.” She said instantly, and Gage blinked in confusion, dumbfounded for a moment at her insistence.
“That’s the problem…” Sole continued, “I just… I don’t know how you’re gonna react to what I really need to tell you, but I don’t want to lose you, I can’t fucking lose you, but I know that what I need to say isn’t something you want to hear, and I was so fucking scared of you being the one to leave, or being angry, that I just had to-- I couldn't face you, I thought--”
“Look, Sole, listen here, I ain’t going nowhere if you don’t want me to, alright? No matter what it is you’ve gotta say. I can take it, I swear. I ain't leaving.”
His relief washed over him as she cast his fear away.
She didn’t leave cuz she wanted to leave me, she left cuz she wanted to be with me, she didn’t want me to leave… I don’t get it, but damn, it's a fucking relief.
Gage reached out his hands to her shoulders, and she didn’t pull away as he took a step closer, and leant in to place a light kiss on her lips. The raider was rarely chaste, but he needed to touch her, to feel that reassurance, to feel her warmth and reciprocation, but he knew he couldn’t take things any further. Not now, not when they were both so damn tired, and she still had to tell him why they were in this whole fucking mess in the first place.
“An old raider like me,” He whispered as his arms still encased her, “What have I got to lose, hm? You’re all I got, darlin'. An’ I ain’t lettin’ you go easy, alright? You hear me?”
She nodded, and brought her lower lip between her teeth, looking down at Gage’s chest before raising her eyes to finally meet his, their color enhanced by the clarity of her expression, and the dewiness of her own tentative relief.
“You won’t leave? No matter what I say?”
“Nah, I’m not goin’ anywhere.”
“Okay. Just know that things are gonna change. Those consequences I talked about, our way of life, our priorities… All of it’s gonna be different now.”
“Oh, that's no big deal. Everythin’ already changed after… Well, after I realized the way I felt about you. My priorities an' all that... I can handle it.”
“Alright, if you say so. Here goes nothing." She took a deep breath, closing her eyes briefly, opened them, and released it. "Okay. I left because I found out that I’m going to have a baby, Gage. Our baby.”
Her gaze never faltered as she stared into his uncovered eye, even as it widened to twice its usual size, even as his mouth fell open and he ceased to breathe. His hands gripped her shoulders tight, and before he knew it, Gage found himself pulling her into him, wrapping his arms as tightly around her as he dared, burying his face into her shoulder as he breathed her in, as he took in her words and felt his overtired mind go into overdrive.
How–? Okay, no, he knew how, but… It had never happened before, with anyone else. He’d never considered it, never thought about it, somehow he just… Had she thought about it? Apparently not, but maybe? Had she wanted to start a family with him? Did she think he'd be any good at that shit at all?
Gage shook his head, pulling back to look into her glistening eyes as a small smile pulled at her lips.
“You’re serious?”
She sniffled as she nodded, uncertainty flashing for a moment, before it was hurriedly cast away by his own explosive grin.
“An’ you thought I was gonna fuckin' leave? No darlin’, not now, I ain’t goin’. I couldn’t, I can’t, I… I can’t believe it. You’re serious?”
“Yes, Gage, yes.” She practically squealed as he brought her into his arms again, kissing the side of her face, the top of her head, down to her neck rapidly as she continued to shake with glee in his embrace.
“How-- how are you okay with this? I thought you didn’t want kids?” He heard Sole say through the deliverance of his affections, and her own breathy giggles.
“I never once said that.” He reluctantly pulled away from her, keeping his face close to hers as he spoke softly, “That was you who thought I didn’t want kids, but that ain’t true at all. It’s just… Well, you know what I am, how I live, an' all that. Just didn’t seem like a place for little ones, you know? But now I know it’s happenin’...”
He couldn’t help it, Gage reached one hand down tentatively to brush over her abdomen, his smile growing broader by the instant, as he felt the warmth of her on his palm, stroking mesmerizingly over the soon-to-be bump on her stomach.
“Damn, I’ve never felt so lucky in all my life. What’d I do to deserve you an’ this, huh? What did I do so right?”
“So… You’re happy, then?”
“You fucking kidding, Sole? You thought this was gonna scare me away? Nah, darlin', you don’ need to worry about that, not ever. I ain’t going’ nowhere. ‘Specially not now. I’ve never been so happy in my life.”
He kissed her again, this time drawing it out, smoothing one hand over her back to pull her against him, while the other caressed her jaw tenderly as he kneaded against her lips until they were both straining for breath. He pulled back, resting his forehead against hers, grinning as he panted for air, feeling the rise and fall of her own chest against his.
“I really love you,” He said, almost too low to hear, “You know that?”
“I do now.”
“Fuck, I love both of you." He gave her one more squeeze before pulling away, clasping one hand in hers as he looked at her with an uncharacteristically wide grin, "Now come on, darlin', let’s get to bed.”
Maxson:
“Busy day?” Cade peered over at Maxson’s bowed head as he damn near fell asleep in the middle of the Prydwen cafeteria.
The Elder only grunted in response, tipping back the beer in his hand to take another sip. Though the Institute threat was now thankfully eliminated, his slew of electronic messages on the matter were seemingly never-ending. He didn’t want to have to spend his entire day notifying the entire rest of the Brotherhood on the recent development in the Commonwealth, while he was still trying to handle the myriad of other threats that continued to plague him, but Arthur did what he had to.
Now he was just tired.
And what’s more, he hadn’t seen Sole in almost two weeks. It’d been ages since they’d been apart that long, and though their union was still a well-kept secret, he missed the way she warmed his bed at night, the way her reasonable words calmed his nerves during the day, and how she would hide away with him to share a meal, or distract him from his duties just enough to keep anyone from noticing. A small smile touched his lips just at the thought of her, and Arthur felt his chest ache momentarily as he felt the sting of her absence all over again. He'd been distracted enough with his duties during the day, but the nights... They were almost unbearable. He could never rest properly when Sole was away from him, never really relax when they were apart like this.
I hope she returns soon. I can't take much more of this.
Her mission was only supposed to last eight or nine days, and the worry that was beginning to set in certainly wasn’t making his attempt at rest any more fruitful.
“Well, it seems that’s not likely to change anytime soon.” Cade interrupted his thoughts, the bottom of his glass tapping loudly against the steel table as he set it down.
“May even get worse," Cade continued, "What with some of the staff shortages we've been dealing with. Let me know if you need any sleeping medication, by the way. I know you haven’t taken it recently, but those bags under your eyes look pretty serious. Meaning no offense, sir.”
Maxson let out a humorless chuckle at the Knight-Captain’s words, though his mind lingered on one distinct portion of what the doctor had told him.
“Staff shortage you say?” Arthur asked, as he took another sip of beer.
“Well, I just mean we still have a good few Knights out with injuries from the battle with the Institute, as well as our recent mutant struggles to the Northwest. Also, with the teams we sent to reinforce the police station after all of those raider attacks…”
“Right. Don’t remind me of the raiders.” Maxson brought his fingers up to pinch the bridge of his nose as he set his bottle back on the table.
He hoped he was wrong, but he thought he could feel a headache coming on. “Foolish, thinking they could stand up to a force like ours. Our firepower, our discipline. Raiders could never hope to win, they're just a nuisance, all of them.”
Cade nodded in agreement, swirling his drink in his hand before continuing, his gaze shining with a curious glint as they met Arthur’s. The Elder narrowed his steely blue eyes suspiciously at the doctor's look.
“Oh, and you’ll likely have to pick up the slack from your Sentinel pretty soon here too, she’s going to be out as well.” With that announcement, Cade downed the rest of his drink, standing up, and leaving the Elder to ponder the meaning of his statement in a brief moment of silent befuddlement.
Does he mean Sole? He must… She’s the only Sentinel there is in this chapter…
“Wh-why is the Sentinel going to be out of duty?” Arthur said a bit too loudly and hastily, trying in vain to keep his voice relatively neutral, but frankly, the news shocked him, and Cade really wasn't permitted to leave until he provided the Elder with an explanation.
Why didn’t she tell me she was going on leave? And why was she doing so in the first place? Was she hurt? Was that why the mission was taking longer than planned? Why the hell hadn’t he been notified!?
“Enlighten me, please, Knight-Captain.” He finished, even as a suspicious grin graced the doctor’s lips.
Could he be... Is he... Jesting with me? If it really was something serious, he wouldn't be giving me that look, surely.
Cade took his sweet time in taking a seat across from the Elder once again, pointedly settling himself on the bench and giving him another humored look before finally opening his mouth to speak.
“The Sentinel is going on maternity leave, sir.” Cade said, and his sly gaze rested on Arthur’s expression as he uttered the life-altering words as though he was revealing the most obvious thing in the world. A moment of silence passed, and Cade's eyes widened, nearly matching the roundness of Arthur’s own icy blue orbs as the Elder’s mouth involuntarily hung open in shock.
“Oh. Oh no." Cade whispered under his breath, "F-forgive me, sir, but I… Well, I thought you knew.”
Cade's voice sounded like it was underwater. Hell, everything sounded like it was miles away from him as the shock set in. Arthur had been in shock before, when he’d been injured, when he'd been afraid, even, but this was entirely different. His throat seized up, and his body went numb, all he could hear was his own heartbeat as Cade’s words echoed through his consciousness over and over again, the sound of them becoming more foreign and jumbled with each bit of repetition in his addled and over-tired mind.
The doctor’s eyes narrowed as Maxson remained seated across from him, still, and stiff as steel, eyes unblinking. He resembled a statue, and Cade found himself moderately concerned.
Not much seemed to rattle the Brotherhood's fearless Elder, and though Cade suspected the truth of Maxson’s relationship to Sole, this all but confirmed it. Cade wouldn’t say a word to the rest of the crew, or the soldiers… But Quinlan does owe him 50 caps…
“That’s…” Maxson finally managed, “Well, it’s- That is good to know. Thank you, Knight-Captain. Would you, ahem, would you excuse me?”
“Of course, sir.” Cade stood as Maxson did, trying not to let his gaze rest on the way the Elder’s knees seemed to shake, and the doctor saluted him, setting off for the bar for a refill, and trying with all his might to keep that knowing grin from spreading across his face in the presence of the other bar-goers.
Maxson swallowed hard, nodding to the doctor’s salute, and walked as quickly as he could, without garnering undue attention, to his quarters.
He slammed the door shut behind him, finally gulping in breathfuls of air as his hyperventilation set in.
Sole’s going on maternity leave?! H-how is that possible!? How could she not have told me?
He didn’t know what to do with himself… There were so many emotions raging inside of him. There was uncertainty, and fear, trepidation, apprehension… Were those all the same feelings? But there was a sense of delight as well, wasn’t there? He was terrified, but he was happy, wasn't he? He'd always wanted this, always looked forward to this day, even since he was only a child himself, and his position in the Brotherhood, his family name had practically guaranteed this turn of events to occur sooner than later in his life, but now it was here.
God, he wanted to be happy, wanted to be nothing else but completely overwhelmingly overjoyed at the news. He'd always wanted this, but he'd never thought it would be with someone like Sole, that it would be with a person that he loved so deeply, that he respected so wholeheartedly, that he felt he couldn't be without.
In Arthur's mind, he'd always imagined it would be more formal, with less feeling. More of a sense of accomplishment and pride when he'd learn of the next one to carry his esteemed family name. But this... This wasn't about heirs, or legacy, or the Brotherhood, as he'd always thought it would be, maybe even as he hoped it would be, because then there would be less pressure to be a proper romantic partner, a husband, potentially, and a proper father. He'd never had one himself, not really, so how was he supposed to know how to behave, what to do, how to feel? Now though, Arthur found that he didn't care. Sure, there was uncertainty, there was apprehension, there was feeling of worry that he could lose his Sole, that he could lose his child, not only in the dangers of childbirth and raising a kid in the wasteland like this, but also in service to the Brotherhood, his one other great commitment, that he was meant to put above all else.
How could he now? The child wasn't even here yet, he hadn't even seen Sole, hadn't even confirmed the validity of Cade's statement, and yet, he felt unwavering loyalty to the child already. That same loyalty he feels to Sole, the power of which could render his undying dedication to the Brotherhood practically meaningless in a case where he had to choose between the two of them.
Elder Maxson didn't scare easily, but the power of his devotion to Sole, his dependency on her, and now, his feelings towards their shared child? It frightened him to the point of paralysis.
I have to rein in my thoughts, my feelings. I have to remember who I am, I have to remember my duty; why I have had the privilege to know Sole in the first place, to be in the position that I'm in. I'm still the Elder. Even if Sole is my partner... my... wife one day, the mother of my child... my children, even, maybe. That doesn't change who I am, what I am. And she wouldn't want it to.
Right?
At first, he had felt dumbfounded at the fact that Sole hadn’t told him herself, but now... Maybe that was why she hadn't.
Was this a mistake? Was she angry with him? Maybe she should be.
Dammit, I don't know. I just wish she were here.
The Elder paced around the room, mumbling to himself, talking himself off the ledge, and trying to keep from catastrophizing as thoughts of every reason she would have kept this news from him rattled about his brain.
Is this why she took the mission that would take her so far away for so long? Was she avoiding me? Is she as afraid as he is? As anxious? Could she possibly be happy? Why had she left, then? Did she… She couldn’t have… Sole didn’t intend to leave the Brotherhood for good, did she? Could she? Had she left him for good?
Maxson nearly leapt out of his coat at the sound of the knock at his door, and he quickly bit back to the aggressive shout he’d intended to throw at whoever it was that decided now was a good time to disturb him.
“Not now!” Was the kindest he could manage in this state.
“Yes, now!” A muffled voice sounded through the door, and he froze mid-step of his pacing.
… Sole?
The Elder practically leapt to the door, hastily undoing the lock and wrenching it open with shaking hands.
Sole stood before him, unharmed, unmarred, unmaimed, perfect, and saluted him as his Sentinel, keeping up appearances, even with a barely contained grin on her face.
“May I enter your–” She started, and Maxson’s gloved hands reached out and pulled Sole into the room, slamming the door shut behind them once again, even as he crushed her against him in a tight embrace.
“Easy there, big guy. Cade admitted that he told you about my condition, right? So maybe let a girl breathe, hm?”
Maxson's heart skipped a beat.
“So, it’s true, then?” He pulled away, his hands still grasping firmly at Sole’s arms in his desperation to prove that this wasn’t just some fever dream of his.
“It is…" She said softly, a flush rising to her cheeks as her gaze fell to the steel floor beneath them. "Are you... I mean, is it okay? Are you–”
“I was a little shocked, I’ll admit."
“Just a little?" Her eyes widened comically, "That’s not how Cade told it.”
Her words wrenched a chuckle from him in this state of hyper-emotion, and Maxson could almost swear he felt tears starting to rise to the surface, but he held them back.
Not now, not yet. Not until I know how she feels about all this.
He took a breath, passing it off as another huff of laughter.
“The man exaggerates, we both know this.”
“Right, yes, of course.” She nodded, a sarcastic expression gracing her face as she reached out to fiddle with his collar briefly.
All Arthur could do was smile, his chest swelling with affection for the woman with the flushed cheeks in front of him, his hands rubbing comfortingly up and down her arms as her gaze rose up to meet his once more. Her eyes flitted back and forth, looking into each of his as a small smile touched her lips.
“But are you… happy, Arthur?”
His eyebrows scrunched, the question feeling like a blow to his stomach.
Can't she see it? Can't she tell?
Maxson pulled her in, the grip on her arms tightening as he pressed his lips to hers tenderly, instantly tilting his head to deepen the contact, closing his eyes and savoring the feel of the one he'd missed so much, the one he loves, the one he couldn't be more happy to be with, to start a family with. It was too much. She was too much.
How can she not know the depth of my feelings for her? For us? For this?
“Sole, love..." He said as he pulled away from her, "I don't think I've ever been happier, in all my life."
X6-88:
X6’s eyes narrowed as he watched his partner get dressed. She’d hardly said a word to him that morning, and though he didn’t really mind, it was… uncharacteristic. Come to think of it, much of her recent behaviors have been unconventional lately, and though he hasn’t said much, they both knew that it was rubbing the courser the wrong way.
He didn’t like that it felt like she was hiding something from him. But what right did he have to demand answers? They may be partners, but she was still his Director. She deserved boundaries, and respect, no matter their closeness to each other personally.
Still... It's concerning. Perhaps if I simply inquire...
“Ma’am?” He tried.
“Sole.” She said shortly, trying to zip up her jumpsuit over her chest. She struggled, bringing the zip down and up again in quick succession before growling at it and leaving the top partially undone.
“Right, Sole… Is everything alright? You seem… Distracted lately. Would you like help?”
“No, I’m fine, thank you. I just… It’s been difficult adjusting, is all.” Sole turned to the dresser beside her, reaching inside to grab a white cotton undershirt before unzipping her jumpsuit once again, and pulling her arms out of the sleeves. She put the T-shirt on underneath, the higher neckline allowing her to leave the jumpsuit zipped only as far up as it would go without being indecent. X6 stood up from their bed and padded over the cold, hard floor to her as she looked in the mirror. He reached out hesitantly, gentle in the way he placed both hands on her shoulders and pressed his chest against her back.
“Father would have been proud of you. Even if your vision differs from his, and from the majority here, you are doing what you believe is best. That’s all he, or anyone, could ask for.”
Sole took a breath and nodded, turning her head to the side so she could look at him as a small smile graced her lips.
“Thank you.” she mouthed and X6 pressed forward to touch his lips briefly to hers. The contact was still strange, the relationship still uncanny to the unpracticed synth, but it was getting easier.
I suppose a year will do that for you.
He released her as he pulled away, turning to dress himself properly for the day, shedding his comfortable sleep clothes for his usual courser uniform. Sole finished a mug of… tea, herbal, by the smell of it, in the kitchen as he entered and set off for the door to the main hallway.
“I’ll be back in a little while, I have a meeting I need to attend, then maybe we can get something to eat? My schedule is clear the rest of the day, so long as nothing comes up.”
X6 looked down briefly. She didn’t have any meetings scheduled today… And if one came up, why did she not notify me sooner? It was unlike her.
“Very good, I will see you when your meeting has concluded. I will be here.”
The door slid shut behind her as she set off into the hallway. X6 sat down at the dining room table with his fingers clasped together. His thoughts reeled.
Am I doing something wrong? No, she would tell me if I were the problem… Still, she’s been handling the responsibilities of Director for over six months, why is it that she is having difficulty now?
X6 stood, unable to hold himself still any longer as his thoughts grew more tumultuous, and he found himself pacing around the room.
The courser wasn’t meant to grapple with the complexities and depth of human emotion, especially a human as unique and complex as Sole, but he’ll be damned if he won’t try. It’s what she requires from him.
He was more than just her protector now, and he’d been honored to step beyond his role in order to be her partner. Sure, he had been surprised that she could even want such a thing with him; even now, he found it strange to wake up at her side, to be able to put his hands on her, to be allowed to hear her plans, her ideas before anyone else, to be able to offer his own suggestions, to have someone consider his opinion. Before Sole, X6 hadn’t even been allowed to have one, and he’d been fine with it, but now… He couldn’t fail.
He had to be what she needed, because he couldn’t stand the thought of returning to his usual duties, of waking up alone, of speaking only to the doctors of the SRB in that awful monotone voice. If he couldn’t be everything Sole needed, he didn’t want to remember what they had. He’d felt so secure in what he was then, been content to do his work without complaint, without reservation, but his life back then paled so in comparison to what he had now.
He couldn’t go back, knowing what it was like… what it was like to love.
X6's bout of pacing ended with him on the balcony of he and Sole’s shared residency, silver eyes sweeping over the white, unmarred walls surrounding him, and lush branches of the trees within the Institute. X6 exhaled and let his eyelids fall shut.
He stood for a long time, just taking in the muted sounds of the Institute, the soft music, the hushed voices, the flowing water, and he let his mind quiet in the same way. Until those loud, disordered thoughts of his quelled and subsided to a clarity that he could actually work with, when Sole returned to him.
The sound of the sliding door opening behind him caused his eyes to snap open once again. He turned slowly, hesitant to find out how the mysterious meeting had gone, but as his gaze settled on Sole’s face, he released a quiet sigh of relief.
She’s… smiling.
“I assume the meeting went well?” He asked.
“Better than I could’ve imagined.” Her small smile broke into a broad grin as she swiftly walked towards him, wrapping her hands around his shoulders before X6 could even properly respond. His body involuntarily stiffened at her touch as she crushed his body to hers, but soon enough he found his hands coming up to fold her into him reciprocatively.
“That’s… that’s good.”
“It’s more than good. I got an answer to all of my questions, an explanation for everything that’s been going on and… Well, it’s a little unprecedented, and it might come as a bit of a shock, I’m actually, I’m not sure how you’re going to take it.” Sole pulled back from him, daring to meet his piercing gaze as her hands swept up to caress either side of his face.
X6 blinked as his fingers flexed at her waist.
“Well, care to find out? I’m afraid you’ll have to tell me first.” X6’s voice remained calm, even as he sensed a distinct quickening of his heartbeat, and his thoughts threatened to race once more, but he forced his attention to remain on his Director.
“I went to see Dr. Volkert.” She told him, and already X6’s confusion must’ve been plain in his expression.
She went to see the physician?
He’d considered that her strange behavior had been the result of an illness, or something of the like, and even recalled speaking with her about his concern, but she had assured him that it was her duties that were the cause of her stress, and her upset stomach, her fatigue, her strange eating habits, her weight gain…
It couldn’t be…
“And he confirmed my suspicions. I was a little nervous to tell you before I knew for sure, but since he confirmed it, I… Well, I think I should tell you now.”
He nodded to her, unblinking, as he held his breath.
“X6, I’m pregnant.”
…Or maybe it could.
He didn’t… X6 didn’t know what to say, or do; how to react, hell, he didn’t know that this was even possible. He supposed he was never expressly told that it wasn’t, but he knew that was likely due to the improbability of him engaging in such acts that would result in being… Reproductively successful.
X6 stared down at Sole, stared through her as his brows furrowed in thought. His throat felt dry all of the sudden, and his heartbeat pounded in his ears as though he were in the midst of combat.
“Forgive the delayed response," He managed, "I… didn’t think it was possible. But I suppose, if it were to happen with anyone…” He stumbled a bit over the words as they left his mouth, knowing that Sole was expecting a response, ideally a positive one, given her own reaction, but he was still working through his own shock at the news.
I should’ve been more prepared for this eventuality.
“You never cease to amaze me, Sole. That’s what I’m getting at.”
“I honestly was a little surprised too. To say the least.” She smiled a bit nervously at that, chuckling more in relief than in humor at her partner’s response. It wasn’t overwhelmingly positive, and she wouldn’t have expected that from X6 anyway, but it wasn’t… Negative, per say. It was interesting to see him stumble over his words though, that was unusual.
“But, even though it’s unexpected,” she continued, “It really is exciting, don’t you think? I’m actually… I’m happy. I know the doctors will talk, as they always tend to, and even the synths may–”
“It doesn’t matter what they say. You’re their Director, and your personal life is none of their concern.”
“Okay, that’s true… But it is yours. X, this includes both of us. I want to know how you feel.”
He felt his hands tighten their grip on her sides of their own accord, pulling her closer to him as he tried to consider that which he’d always been forced to repress. He’d always thought it strange that the Institute scientists programmed his kind with the ability to feel. Now though, he found himself grateful. He would never want to lie to his Director… And he never could lie to Sole.
He couldn’t help but smile at these feelings he wasn’t supposed to have. It was still an unnatural feeling, an unfamiliar response, but it wasn’t like he could hold it back now. Not with the way he felt. He’d never wanted kids, never really liked them, even. Sure, synth Shaun wasn’t so bad, but infants always frightened him a bit for some reason he couldn’t quite discern. Sole’s done it before though… She could help him, train him to be, at least passable as a… a father.
“I am a bit surprised as well, I'll admit," X6 started, "But I feel… I am happy. I'm glad that this is happening with you, that we will be... Joined together in this way, and I'm relieved at your own contentment with the situation. Although, I’m not going to pretend to know what I’m doing, because I clearly don’t. They never did cover potential parental responsibilities in basic courser training.”
Sole laughed at that, her beaming smile lighting up her face like a warm sunset in August. Damn, he never really saw the beauty of the world until she became a part of it, and now he saw it all in her. His own grin broadened, spreading to warm his icy gaze as he took all of his partner in.
“Despite the unease I am feeling though, I am relieved that you are healthy. Your recent state had me worried.” He admitted, but he continued with a small smile, “However… I suppose I really should have seen it coming. Your vault suit hasn’t fit properly for weeks now.”
“Oh, you noticed that, did you?” Amusement shone in her eyes as her brows rose high on her forehead.
“I’m very observant, ma’am.” The courser said with a smirk.
Hey, how about companions (romanced or not, your choice) react to Sole disappearing into thin air one day and reappearing after months as the Overboss of Nuka World?
Better yet if the companions are the ones finding them at Nuka World but anything is fine really. Whatever feels best to you!
Yes! Hm… I'll admit I could have been a little carried away with some of them… and I hope you will like it even if I didn't enphased on the romances very much
Some stories end happily, while others do not…
I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it
I also realised I had left MacCready off the list. I have to correct this because my lovable ratface couldn't be forgotten!!
Be aware that Danse - Elder Maxson - Porter Gage - Nick Valentine shorts finished badly
Preston is the longest
I have had this poor forgetten Piper, and I think it's even much longer then Preston...
Cait : She doesn’t give a damn. She doesn't care that Sole promised to return for her soon and that she has been waiting in Oberland Station for several months. She is unconcerned. She is unconcerned about tales that Sole has vanished from the Commonwealth's surface. She doesn’t care about Travis suggestion that it’s worrisome. She is indifferent. Just because she's on the road looking for them doesn't mean she's worried, it doesn't mean she cares, and she doesn't give a damn about trying as hard as she can to recall what they told her about finding a missing person. It's not because they're important to her that she's enthusiastic about discovering Nuka-World and learning that they may have been kidnapped by the raiders.
Cait is smarter than we would imagine, and she would never fall into such a dumb trap, not like that moron Sole. She walks instead of taking the monorail. She has plenty of stamina. She goes through an abandoned city, a heath that appears to be more deadly than the rest of the Commonwealth, a former Nuka-Cola bottling facility... and there, on the ruined route in front of her, were two raiders.
Her smile becomes as awful as her baseball bat rise. Perhaps she'll simply locate Sole's body, but these teo will perish.
She runs towards the biggest, strongest one, the one with the headband over one eye, when she is stopped by a voice.
"Stop, Cait!"
This is the voice... of... no, impossible. And yet, she recognizes Sole under this raider's armor. Her baseball bat falls to the ground as she becomes enraged.
"Ya moron!"
She can't think of any qualifiers to describe how she feels, so she does what she knows best: she sends them the strongest live one she's ever sent, right into their blasted little surviving face.
The stiffer with the blindfold approaches to stop her, while the other orders him to remain still.
"I missed you as well. Sorry, I was a little caught."
"A little caught? What the hell?"
"Sure you don't want me to take care of it, boss?"
"Boss?! BOSS?!"
Cait pays Sole the second most solid direct she's ever sent. While Gage assists them in getting up, they rub their jaw and try again to smile at their companion.
"You know, I would prefer you to be less emotional, but come to Fizztop with me and we'll have a long conversation."
Cait runs back to throw them a third hit, but ultimately stops herself.
"Ah, ya lookin' ta chat? Well, we can do that. But if ya ain't got a good reason fer me, we'll be finishin' this little convo with a swing of my trusty bat here."
In Gage's stupor, Sole bursts out laughing.
"All right, but first you have to try one of those Nuka-Specials."
Codsworth : Madam/Sir has been gone for a long time! Preston assured him that everything would be OK because, Sole was frequently on the road for extended periods of time. True, but they hear about them on the radio. Codsworth listens to the station all day for any hints Travis might provide regarding Sole's stocks, but the advertiser is entirely mute about them.
Since his sir and mistress bought him, Codsworth has never left Sanctuary. Not even once. He was busy bringing the town back on its feet, first with Sole, assisting them with the bigger works, but Sole has been on the road a lot since they became General.
But they frequently return.
This time, it's been nearly a month since they departed to investigate the rumors around Sunshine, and no one in the entire Commonwealth has heard of them since day one.
Codsworth has never left Sanctuary since his sir and mistress bought it, but he crosses the crumbling bridge and follows the road this morning. He is provided with a cutting-edge GPS system, if only to allow him to return to General Atomics in the event of a malfunction. He now uses this system to get to Sunshine Tidings, and from there he follows the settlers' leads to retrace Sole's steps.
When the poor robot takes the monorail to the ancient theme park, he is not done. He quickly finds himself trapped in the Gauntlet and must use all his efforts to keep all of his pieces intact. He hesitated, between two rounds of twelve and a grenade; he wasn't sure Sole could have make it through this inferno... Regardless of the outcome, the Butler swears to return the body to Sanctuary.
When he arrives at the arena, he realizes the truth, which hits him like a rain of disappointment.
"Madam/Sir, how dare you degrade yourself in this way?"
"Let me explain, Codsworth. It is not what you believe."
The robot looks about at the unhappy raiders exiting the arena, knowing that their Overboss and butler would not fight.
"But how could you, Madam/Sir—
"I'll explain everything!"
"How could you go a month without taking a shower?"
Curie : This is beyond above Curie's capabilities. She doesn't yet understand how the modern world works, but one thing is certain: what Sole asks her seems strangely... unethical.
"But, if he's a raider, you should probably let him die, right?"
"What about your hypocritical oath?"
Curie is powerless to argue. She had taken a vow as a doctor to always do her best to save lives. However, a raider...
She travels with Sole and enters Nuka-World alongside them. She is astounded to find that all of these evil guys appear to respect Sole. They make a huge thing out of calling them Overboss. Sole, on the other hand, ignores them and heads straight towards an artificial peak beyond an artificial basin.
Curie discovers the raider that Sole informed her about in the flat at the top, at the bottom of a bed that appears to be meant for two. He is severely damaged, and it's a miracle that he has lasted this long. It demonstrates amazing character strength, which Curie can admire. She, on the other hand, wasted no time in getting to work, cleaning the poorly wrapped lesions, suturing, and administering the appropriate medicine.
After some time has passed, she is able to consider the raider stable and safe. She sighs as she cleans her hands in the small kitchen sink.
"Can you please explain who I just treated and why?"
"This is Gage." Gage, Porter. I owe him everything... I owe him my life."
"And it appears to be important to you. Is it important enough to deny everything you were working on?"
Sole dismissively places one hand on Curie's shoulder.
"I'm not expecting you to comprehend. But this man is my entire world, and I'd rebuild the world for him."
Curie can't stop smiling. She knows, deep down, that something awful is brewing deeper inside the tangles of this world. But who wouldn't feel weak in the presence of a living reproduction of Romeo and Juliet?
Danse : No! Impossible! Certainly, ultimately, IMPOSSIBLE. Nuka-World's Overboss cannot be Sole. It's had to be the last grenade. That's right. In that awful cage of doom, the grenade that burst dangerously near to his head. He's confused and realizes everything incorrectly. As a result, he enters the arena, grabs Sole's arm, and pulls them towards the exit.
"We're going back to the Prydwen, you're going to take a well-deserved vacation after being off the grid for so long, and I'm going to have Cade check my brain. It's strange, and you'll probably find it amusing, but I had the impression for a little time that you were the raiders' Overboss."
Sole retracts and try to push Danse out of the way. They try in vain to break free from the grip of a Power Armor, and all they get is to finish on the buttocks, pulled by a paladin in complete denial. Until Gage and a few subordinates formed a barrier in front of Danse and Sole, the weapons were aimed at the paladin's head.
"Not another step with our Overboss," Sole's lieutenant threatens quietly.
"It's all right, Gage. He's not trying to hurt me; he's just taken aback."
"A little stunned, yes," replied Danse hurriedly. "I just heard one of these dissidents refer to you as Overboss. I definitely need to get checked out, and I need it now."
Sole is able to let go of their pal and stand up this time.
"Danse, take a deep breath and let me explain."
And Sole begins to explain. But Danse is deafeningly silent. Nothing makes sense to him. He doesn't get it. He's trying; he knows Sole's saying something vital to them, but it's beyond his comprehension.
"So, you're going back to the Prydwen with me?"
"You didn't listen, did you?"
"You... you belong to the Brotherhood. Come back with me."
Danse gets seized by panic as reality dawns on him. Sadly, he shakes his head. He's already been there. It will undoubtedly be his final engagement. He will do it, however. For the honor. For the Brotherhoods. For Cutler.
He lifts his weapon against the one he took under his wing, guided, and helped. He points his weapon at his companion.
"Ad victoriam!"
Deacon : He didn't miss a single detail of what happened. He followed Sole from afar throughout the process. He was sweating blood and water as he saw the other go through the Gauntlet's hardships and then face this terrifying electric beast. When Porter declared Sole Overboss, he couldn't help but smile. However, the prank lasted long enough. He sneaks inside the Fizztop that night and approaches them as soon as Sole is alone.
"Boss, can't you stay out of trouble?"
When the spy emerges from the shadows, Sole lets out a huge sigh of relief.
"Deacon! Shit! You have no idea how pleased I am to see you!"
"I can imagine that. What kind of trap did you get yourself into this time?"
"Golden, but with sharp bars. Sharp bars that yearn to tear off my skin. Do you have a plan to get me out of this mess?"
Deacon is doing his best to process things. They might try to use the night to slip between the various factions and exit through the large entrance... But he doubts the monorail will finish its race before the watchdog realizes his Overboss has escaped.
"We'll have to go through Nuka-World and then out of Bradberton."
Sole's relief vanished in an instant. The two friends exchange long glances. Sole sadly shakes their head.
"No, I will not put your skin at risk for mine. RailRoad desperately needs you."
"We, too, need you, Whisper."
Sole shakes their head sadly, then comes forward with a resolute step towards Deacon, offers him the strongest hug Deacon has ever received in his life, and then walks back.
"Escape. Find Preston if you can. Inform him about the situation here."
"I'm not going to leave you behind."
"Yes. That is the only way out. You are the only one who can return. But if I accompany you, we'll be in grave danger at every turn. Get after Preston. He should be north of here, at Sanctuary Hill."
"I know exactly where Sanctuary is," Deacon grumbles. "But I'm not leaving Nuka-World without you."
They can hear the platform moving. Gage’s returns. Sole must be swift. Deacon is pushed back into the shadows by him.
"You're gonna do it. You are my only hope."
Deacon finally realizes that Sole is right, and he returns home with a heavy heart. With one final look at the ghostly shape of Nuka-World in the night, he swears on his soul that he will return with an army and rescue his one and only friend from the mess into which they fell.
Dogmeat : The good doggy had been right on Sole's tail the entire time. What a difference it makes whether they're here or elsewhere. So long as he stays with Sole. The odd men in colorful armor are kind, and they fill his belly with meat. The large red goatee is a favorite of Dogmeat. He understands how to scratch a dog. Sole is also fond of the huge redhead. Dogmeat is aware of it. But when Sole calls Dogmeat that night, Dogmeat is perplexed. Sole gives him a tight hug, and Dogmeat feels pain and terror. Dogmeat licked the face of Sole. Dogmeat is there. Dogmeat will stay with Sole until the end of time.
Elder Maxson : His most recent report is unequivocal. Paladin Danse has tracked down their greatest potential recruit in a place named Nuka-World. There has been radio silence since then. That sounds a little too much like a threat. A threat that ate two of his closest officers. The Elder issues his orders, the Prydwen is released from his moorings, and the massive ship traverses the Commonwealth once more. That is the most effective method. They already have to fight an invisible enemy; they cannot afford to keep behind their backs a visible enemy whose situation is obvious. A first detachment is sent to the ground to see if the two soldiers can be repatriated, but the detachment returns in shreds with very dismal news. There is nothing more to be saved.
That evening, the Commonwealth can watch the massive fireworks display that the Prygwen and all his vertibirds pour down on Nuka-World from as far away as Kingsport Lighthouse.
The sun rises the next morning on the remains of what were, for two centuries, the last vestiges of a time when children might laugh and play.
In a neutral mindset, Maxson's gaze wanders over the smoking remains.
But a wound opened deep within him, deep within his soul, and it bled furiously.
To him, the loss of his companion, the Paladin Danse, seems insurmountable. The loss of this bright recruit, Sole, whom he had grown to respect, feels catastrophic.
Elder Maxson vows to himself that he will never again let anybody to approach the boundaries of his heart, the loss he must bear not sawing at the function he must assume.
Hancock : Beer, drugs, and booze. The mayor of Goodneighbor appreciates the appealing qualities of the place.
What he despises are raiders and slaves.
He shakes his head as he sits on the bench next to Sole.
"Okay, survival. Completely the party. But this? This is a monstrosity, you feel me?"
Sole feel him. They feels him too well. Sole has said very little since Hancock found them in this odd area, sipping the bottle of Nuka-Victory in their hands, their gaze lost on the flaming lights below. The ghoul examines his companion with interest.
"What's your plan?"
"The merchants suggested supporting me if I managed to blow off all the big heads in the park."
Hancock was unaware of his anxiousness until relief washed over him like a pleasant shower. But how dare he question? How could he doubt that his friend, who was always willing to help, would approve of what was being planned within the confines of this park?
Of course, Sole does not rule from a bloody throne. Sole is getting ready for a bloody cleanse. And Hancock's shotgun is all set to accompany them on their heroic adventure.
Gage : This is a number. This Sole. It's a one-of-a-kind case. Strong, agile, and smart. Smart enough to have listened to Gage from the very beginning. They created an invincible team at the top of the Nuka-World raiders. They cleaned the park together, and now they're ready to take on the world.
Gage could never have imagined himself to be that great. He never imagined himself serving such an Overboss. What a clever boss.
On their first day outside Nuka-World, he follows Sole. He follows them outside Nuka-World's walls to conquer their first colony. He'd follow them all the way to the end of this world.
Gage had never had such faith in another person before. That's why, when he sees an army of Minutemen blocking their path, his first instinct is to place himself in front of the boss. It's the first time he's experienced such a surge of bravery and loyalty, but Sole is worth it, right? Right?
The .10mm click on his back is amusing. Sole believes they can defeat an army with such a little gun. Then he feels the weapon's coldness against his temple.
"It's finished, Gage. We'll set the slaves free. The raiders from Nuka-World will be defeated by the end of the day."
"B-B-Boss?"
Gage simply cannot believe it. Like a child, he was used and abused. He had faith in Sole all along. Everything they've accomplished together...
"You don't have to do it that way. Gage, you're a wise man. Follow me, and you can use that intelligence to help the Commonwealth rather than harm it."
All that faith he had placed in the one he dared to consider as... as a friend. All that blind faith. Even later on, he was willing to die to protect them.
"So, Gage, what do you say? Surrender and join us?"
He was willing to die for them. He was preparing to charge the Minutemen and buy the boss some time to take cover. He was prepared to die...
"Shoot," Gage can hardly say with his jaw so clenched, "Shoot right now; the second I see your back, I'll shoot it."
Sole is sadly shaking their head. They would have preferred that things had gone differently. They were confident that Gage would seize the opportunity to live a better life. But they must have been wrong. A raider is still a raider.
The detonation that rings in the slowly lengthening morning is most likely the most painful thing Sole has doing from their lives. But they don't have a choice. The decision was in the hands of the person they had come to consider a friend. And this friend was now lying face down, slowly surrounded by the blood oozing from the bullet wound.
"I'm sorry, Porter. Really sorry."
MacCready : MacCready paced back and forth in his improvised nest, his gaze fixed on the horizon. He'd been a mercenary for the Sole Survivor for months and had grown to feel strongly about them.
But they'd been gone for weeks, gone without a trace. MacCready had looked everywhere for them, but they had simply vanished into thin air.
As he sat there brooding, a Sunshine Tidings settler approached him, holding a miniature wooden soldier.
"Hey MacCready, someone left this for ya," the settler said, holding up the toy.
As he recognized the soldier, MacCready's heart jumped into his throat. He'd handed it to Sole as a mark of his affection.
"Where did you get this?" he asked, his voice shaking with emotion.
"Ironically, it's a raider from East."
MacCready's eyes welled up with tears as he clasped the wooden soldier to his chest.
"Thanks," he responded, his voice choking with emotion. "Thanks for bringing this to me."
MacCready sat there, lost in thought, as the settler went away. He knew the appearance of the wooden soldier indicated that Sole was still somewhere out there, and he resolved to find them no matter what.
With newfound zeal, MacCready packed his belongings and returned to the wasteland, his sniper rifle at the ready. After days of research, MacCready discovered Nuka-World, a long-abandoned amusement park on the Commonwealth's outskirts. He went to the park without hesitation, ready to seek out the love of his life.
When he arrived at Nuka-World, he discovered the park overrun with raiders. MacCready, on the other hand, was unfazed. He knew as the best sharpshooter in the Commonwealth, he could take down anyone who stood in his path.
MacCready fought his way into the park with his trusty rifle in hand, taking down invaders and eliminating obstacles as he went. His heart was racing in his chest, and he knew he was coming closer and closer to getting Sole.
After what seemed like a lifetime, MacCready finally found the love of his life.
Without saying anything, MacCready took the wooden soldier from his pocket and held it out to Sole. They were crying as they gazed at the toy and then up at MacCready.
"I knew you'd come," they said quietly, wrapping their arms around MacCready and clutching him tightly. "But, you know, there was no need to kill all of my people."
"Your... people?"
"The raiders. I was their Boss."
"You're crazy but you're my crazy."
MacCready didn't give a damn about any of it. Overboss of the raiders? Anyway, dead raiders. The only thing that mattered was that his love was back in his arms, and nothing could ever separate them again.
Nick Valentine : [As I previously wrote in a fanfiction about Nick finding Nora at Nuka-World and saving her, I want to try something different, but don't be ashamed to tell me if you don't like this version]
He does not require sleep at night. He's not going to quit regardless. He went over the Commonwealth, interviewing people and hunting for leads. He surveyed the entire Commonwealth, colony by colony, but his best buddy, Sole, seemed to have vanished without a trace.
He's returned to Sanctuary, defeated. He is burdened by his failure. Sole has vanished. He can't seem to find them. Sole tracked him down after himself disappeared. Sole has recovered every missing individual from every file that has been on Nick's desk since then. Sole even located all of Eddie Winter's holotapes, and Nick was able to kill Eddie Winter and finally be at peace with himself. But Nick is unable to locate Sole.
Sturges is working in his workshop, messing with an ancient radio, attempting to pick up transmissions. Nick gets closer to him, dismissed. Sturges is Nick's closest buddy outside of Sole, and Nick really needs a friend right now. That's when he comes to a halt.
"Sturges! Don’t touch anything!"
Nick listens intently as the trailer resumes its loop. Nuka-World. A little east of Sunshine Tidings.
"Many thanks! Thank you a million times!"
The technician scratched his neck, unsure of what he had done, while the synthetic detective turned heels and left without even explaining why he had come.
Nick's steady pace gets him to the gates of Nuka-World in less time than it takes to say. He skirts the monorail and rushes across the moor towards the old amusement park, but he moves more cautiously near the spot where the raiders appear to gather.
He observed a bunch of raiders standing guard outside the Fizztop Grille as he approached it. These were not the usual foreigners, Nick realized—they were brutal, cunning, and heavily equipped. He crouches in the shadows and moves in closer to hear the dialogue. So he discovers that this group is run by a brilliant man dubbed Overboss.
Nick took out his handgun and crept closer, staying in the darkness. He needed to find his pal as soon as possible. He had intended to find them straight, but fate seemed to have other intentions.
He noticed the Sole Survivor sitting at a table with a group of raiders, laughing and conversing as if they were old friends. Nick couldn't believe what he was seeing; had his friend actually turned into one of these freaks?
Too much seized, and he is unaware that the guard group has just noticed him before pointing their weapons at him and opening fire. Nick sought shelter immediately and pulled his firearm, ready to protect himself.
The fight was fierce, with bullets flying in everywhere. Nick fought valiantly, defeating raider after raider. But something weird happened when the last guard dropped to the ground. Sole approached him with a devious look on their face.
"Welcome, Nick," they greeted him. "I welcome you to my new kingdom. I am now the Overboss. And you, my friend, are trespassing on my land."
Nick was stunned by what he was hearing. His companion, the Sole Survivor, had transformed into the very thing they had been fighting against all along. This is the most bitter nightmare he could have imagined in his far too long existence.
But he knew what had to be done.
He drew his revolver and aimed it towards his erstwhile friend. "I won't let you hurt anyone else, not on my watch."
The two ex-partners confronted each other with their guns pulled and their eyes locked in a deadly look. And as they pulled the trigger, Nick knew their friendship had come to an end.
Piper : "Piper Wrigth is on the verge of solving a new Commonwealth mystery. Sole says Survivor has been missing for a few weeks, and our local celebrity, the private detective Nick Valentine, has been on their trail for nearly as long. Sturges informed me that Nick travelled to Sunshine Tidings after hearing a radio broadcast, so I'll tracks him back there."
Piper taps her lip with her finger as she holds the recording for a bit.
"I'm not sure what's going on, but hey! This isn't the first time I've been on the front lines of uncovering the Commonwealth's dark secrets!"
The reporter puts her tape recorder away, adjusts her bag's shoulder straps, and then, after a final gesture to greet Preston at his guard station, she heads towards Sunshine. She gets in sight of the colony shortly before the end of the afternoon, and she is promptly informed of what the detective found before her. East. She must travel east.
She discovered the Nuka-World installations just as the sun was about to set on the horizon.
"It's amazing" she begins with her recording. "A genuine historical relic just a short distance from a Minuteman settlement. There appears to be a lot going on behind the walls of this Nuka-World. I'm going to try to sneak in because there are so many raiders nearby."
Since the gangs appear to be making their way slowly towards their neighbourhoods, Piper surprisingly have it easy to infiltrate up to the market, where a doctor gives her the latest developments. This time, the journalist doesn't to turn on her recording device. If the Mackenzie woman is correct, things are going much worse than Piper could have imagined. But she won't believe it just yet. She must discover the facts without allowing her emotions to take over. She immediately arrived at the Fizztop Grille and took the lift right into the Overboss quarters, following the directions that she was given.
"Blue," she says softly.
She sees a movement to her right in the darkness, then someone lights a lamp and painfully gets out of their bed.
"Piper?"
"Oh! Finally! I found you!"
As they approach her, Piper rushes to Sole, but when she tries to jump to their neck, they raise their hand and stare at her coldly.
"Remain where you are. What do you expect from me?"
"Blue? But… I came to save you!"
Piper is moved to tears by the cynical laughter of the person she believed was her friend. When Sole moves out of her line of sight to show her what is hanging from a Power Armour rack, she screams in horror.
"How could you?" she managed to say between sobs.
"He deserved it! Are you also here to get rid of me?"
Piper can't take her gaze away from her dear buddy Nick, or what's left of him. His coat is riddled with bullet impact marks, and a coolant puddle has formed beneath him. His eyes are shut and the hat has vanished. He is so miserable that the journalist feels her heart breaking into pieces in her chest.
"Are you coming here to kill me?" Sole keeps on ask.
"No," Piper replied with more vehemence than she felt she was capable of. In reality, she is extremely demolished, but her sharp mind has already made a decision. She wants to take Nick home no matter what happens to Sole, and she won't be able to do so if she is slain.
"Good. It would have been quite unpleasant for me to have to... terminate our friendship."
Piper clenches her teeth tightly, trying with all her will to remain calm.
"I never said we were still friends. I'm not sure what happened to you, but..." she swallows hard. "I'm leaving. I'll go back and never return. You won't hear from me again."
"If that's what you want," they sigh, unconcerned.
"But I'm bringing him back with me."
Sole lets out a cynical laugh.
"I'd really like to see you do it."
"You will see me and help me!" Piper had no idea she possessed such determination, but she is determined to see her goal through to achievement. "You're going to give me a brahmin so I can bring his body back to Diamond City. Whatever happened between you two, he was your friend; he helped you, he supported you, and you owe him that!"
She expected to have to fight claws and nails, and she expected Sole to protest vehemently and act sadistically. But they groan deeply, as if they are entirely broken.
"You know, that's not what I was expecting about. But they," he says, gesticulating towards the park below, "would have ripped me apart if I had shown weakness. Nick failed miserably on that one. He should have been more discrete. Things could have turned out differently."
When he looks at their old acquaintance, she can see his sincerity.
"You are free to take him. We'll just have to say you paid his weight in capsules. I'll arrange for his transport. While you prepare, you can roam around Nuka-World in peace. Nobody will bother you. That is something I will personally ensure."
Piper approaches Sole again, and this time they do not push her away. She takes their hand in hers and looks them in the eyes.
"You still have a chance. Leave with me."
Sole sighs and shakes his head.
"No. I'm not going back. I abandoned everyone who had put their trust in me. Right now, this is where I belong. But please make certain that no one follows in Nick's footsteps. I'll never have the strength to kill another of you."
There isn't much else to say. Piper recognises that what was will never be again, and the body of this wretched synthetic she brings with her to Diamond City is proof of that. She'll travel to Amari; she'll do everything she can to save Nick, but she already knows she'll never be able to bring Sole back.
And, for the first time, she does not consider writing an article.
Preston : Preston listens attentively to the man, out of breath, standing in front of him. He maintains a serious demeanor throughout the discussion while Deacon relates what he saw. Some might tell him never to take Deacon at his word, but Preston wouldn’t listen.
Because the facts remain the same. His general has vanished from the Commonwealth's surface, leaving no trace. It corresponds exactly to what the man in front of him says.
Prisoner of a band of raiders more organized than anything they've ever encountered.
"Allow me to broadcast messages. I intend to gather as large an army of Minutemen as possible. Meanwhile, if you're up for it, I have an assignment for you."
"I'll do anything for Sole. It’s… I've never really had a best friend."
"Reintroduce yourself to Nuka-World and get Sole ready. The army will be at the amusement park's gates in five days, preparing to attack." But he wants this army to march with its General at the head, a General who has had time to study the area and be ready when the time comes. However, the General must be warned, which is where Deacon comes in. Except for the spy, no one else could enter Nuka-World. Preston has faith in him.
Preston prepares the offensive while Deacon goes back. On the fifth day, he stands with all the Minutemen at the foot of the gates of a Nuka-World completely unaware of what awaits them. Unfortunately, Deacon did not return to Preston to report, so the colonel has no idea if Sole has been informed of what is going on. He hopes that nothing bad occurred to the spy; he seemed sympathetic and concerned about the General's safety.
As the sun rises, two figures emerge from the amusement park's gates. Preston can't express how relieved he is to see his old pal. He was about to cry. But he is still waiting. He's waiting for the signal before launching an attack.
Sole holds a gun to the raider’s head at their side and talks to him. Preston has no idea what they are discussing, but he is still waiting for orders. He's not going to let Sole down.
He feels relieved rather than surprised when the detonation sounds. One fewer raider. Sole enters the parking area quietly to meet their colonel. Preston can't help but notice how defeated they appear. While Sole is just a few steps away from Preston, the Minutemen notice that his pal... is crying.
The other swiftly wipes away their few tears before straightening up. They address their orders and they all storm as a group. The battle has raged for a long time; there are many pockets of resistance, but Sole knows where they are and who defends them. Furthermore, once the market is liberated, the merchants join the offensive, and the forces swiftly shift in favor of the Minutemen.
By the end of the day, the entire park has been cleaned up and the severe threat has been carried out to the last.
Preston searches the ranks for his General, but he cannot find them. Instead, he comes across the other man, Deacon. This one instructs him to follow him and guides him to the artificial mountain. They ascend the lift and find themselves in a loft that is rather luxurious for the surrounding area. Sole stands in front of the window, gazing out into the park. Their demeanor is solemn.
"General! Great victory!"
"Keep your congratulations, Preston. A man died today who should not have died. It is a victory for the Commonwealth, but an awful loss for me."
Preston is gripped by his friend's gloomy statements. He approaches carefully and hesitantly.
"General?"
"I don't believe I'm deserving of this title. I had the opportunity to change things, to make them better. That window of opportunity closed today. I return the uniform to you."
"No!"
Preston is taken aback to hear another voice echoing his own. Deacon takes a deliberate step towards them.
"No way, Sole! Stop! What you're doing is admirable, as is all you've done. You changed the face of the Commonwealth; you offered those who felt they had lost everything a remarkable chance. The RailRoad has never thrived more than with you at the command of the Minutemen. Tolerance and prosperity are on the horizon for synthetics and humans. Racism has vanished. Ghouls, too, find their appropriate place. All of this, you delivered it to the world."
Preston agrees with the spy and nods.
"Only you and no one else," continue the spy. "I'm feel awful for Porter, but he'd never accept this reality. He would never have understood. But you, you created it. And the world still requires you. We haven't saved all of the Institute's synths yet. You still haven't freed all colonies from the threat of raiders or mutants. You still have a lot of work to do, and no one but you can do it."
Preston would not have said it so well. He puts a hand on his friend’s shoulder, looking into their eyes, the bright hope in his own.
"There would be no Minutemen without you. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you. I'm deeply sorry for your loss. Deeply. However, you must not give up. You must fight for all the Porters of the world for whom it's not too late and who have not yet crossed the line of no return."
Sole lowers their head for a time, as if pondering, and then raises it, setting their sights on the horizon with renewed zeal.
"You're right. You are absolutely right."
They then put their Minutemen hat on their head, tackling it with a proud gesture.
"For all the Porters of this world who can still be saved."
Strong : Strong had been wandering the Commonwealth for days, searching for the Sole Survivor. He had grown to respect the human's strength and determination, and he was eager to join forces with them in their fight against the Institute.
But as the days turned into weeks, Strong began to worry. The Sole Survivor was nowhere to be found, and no one seemed to have seen them in weeks. Strong asked around, but no one had any answers.
Just when he was about to give up hope, Strong heard a rumor about a new Overboss ruling over the raiders of Nuka-World. Something about the way the rumor was told caught Strong's attention, and he felt a strange sense of familiarity.
He made his way to Nuka-World, cautiously approaching the raider stronghold. As he made his way through the chaos and destruction, he heard a voice that he recognized.
"Strong? Is that you?"
It was the Sole Survivor, and they were standing on a balcony overlooking the raider arena. Strong was overjoyed to see them, but he couldn't help but feel a little confused.
"Why you here? You leader of these raiders now?"
The Sole Survivor nodded, a hard look in their eyes.
"I had to do what I had to do, Strong. The Commonwealth needs all the help it can get, and if I have to work with these raiders to make it happen, then that's what I'll do."
Strong didn't quite understand, but he respected the Sole Survivor's decision. He knew that they were a fierce warrior, and he was proud to call them his ally.
"Strong fight with you, no matter what. Together, we strong!"
The Sole Survivor smiled, and Strong felt a surge of pride. They may be the leader of the raiders now, but they were still the same person that Strong had grown to respect and admire.
X6-88 : As he delivered his report, X6-88 stood in front of the Director, his arms crossed behind his back. "Father, I have located Sole," he stated calmly and measuredly.
Father cocked his brow. "And where precisely are they?"
The Courser paused for a moment before responding. "They are the new Overboss of the raiders at Nuka-World."
The Director's face became solemn. "I see. And what is your strategy?"
"I propose we send a team to retrieve them. We cannot allow one of our own to be associated with such a group."
Father agreed with a nod. "That's excellent. You will be in charge of the team. Please take whatever resources you require."
X6-88 nodded and walked away. As he walked out of the room, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of something he couldn't place. Even though he didn't always agree with Sole's approach, he had always respected them. He couldn't help but wonder what had happened.
The raiders were well-organized and well equipped when the Institute team arrived at Nuka-World. X6-88 was well aware that a direct assault would be suicide. Instead, he resolved to put his expertise to good use. He gained access to the raiders' computer systems by a combination of stealth and hacking. He realized that Sole had been assisting the murderer in expanding their area by leveraging their knowledge of the Commonwealth.
X6-88 was enraged at the prospect of his former ally assisting the very people they had fought against for so long. But he ignored his emotions and concentrated on his mission. He was able to take away the raiders' defenses one by one by using their own weapons against them. He eventually made his way to the Overboss's headquarters.
As he walked into the Fizztop, he noticed Sole sitting comfortably on a bench, surrounded by their new friends. As the Courser neared, the Overboss looked up.
"X6," they spoke flatly, their voice devoid of emotion. "I see you've come to take me back."
The synth sat up straight, his arms crossed behind his back. "Yes, I was dispatched to retrieve you. You can't possibly stay here with these people."
Sole looked around at their new friends. "These people are my family now," he explained. "They accept me for who I am, not who they want me to be. I've discovered a sense of purpose here that I didn't have at the Institute."
X6-88 maintained a solemn face. "I understand that you have developed feelings for these individuals, but they are still raiders. They cause harm to innocent people and disturb the tranquilly. That is not what the Institute represents."
His opponent stood up, their eyes narrowing. "What exactly does the Institute stand for? Control? Manipulation? Experimentation on unwitting subjects? Do you want me to go back to that?"
X6-88's look was unwavering. "The Institute's methods may appear harsh and intimidating. but they are necessary for humanity's survival. You are aware of this."
Sole made a shaky motion with his head. "I can't go back to how things used to be. Not with everything I've seen and done out here. I'm sorry, but I'm unable to leave."
The Courser let out a sigh. "I see what you're saying. But I can't let you keep hanging out with these individuals. I've been given the order to bring you back to the Institute, using force if necessary."
As the two formerly allies faced one other, the tension in the room was visible. But before either of them could act, the door slammed open and a swarm of hostile raiders stormed in, weapons drawn. Sole knew something like this was coming, but it couldn't have arrived at a worse moment.
X6-88 examined the issue rapidly and made a judgement. "We need to work together if we want to make it out of here alive," he told Sole.
The other nodded, and they fought alongside each other against the raiders. Despite their differences, they made an excellent team. The Courser's battle training combined with the human's skills proved lethal.
When the last forsaken raider was eliminated, the two of them stood panting, their guns drawn. They exchanged silent glances for a little moment.
At last, it's Sole who talk first. "I'm sorry it came to this. I never intended to be your enemy."
Is ex-ally nodded. "I see what you're saying. But our allegiances have shifted. I need to go back to the Institute and tell what happened here."
The Courser turned to depart as the Overboss nodded. But not before pausing and turning back to confront Sole one last time.
"Be careful out here," he warned. "The wasteland is a dangerous place, and you have made powerful enemies by associating with raiders."
Sole gave a nod. "I know. But I'm not afraid. And I'm not Alone. I have friends who will support me."
X6-88 acknowledged with a nod, then turned and exited the room. He couldn't help but ponder about his brush with Sole as he made his way back to the Institute. Even when they were on opposing sides, he had always admired them. And today, despite their differences, he couldn't help but admire their persistence and determination.
As he walked into the Institute, he realized he'd have to explain what occurred at Nuka-World. And he was well aware that his superiors would be dissatisfied with the outcome. But he also realized he'd done what he needed to do and gained a deeper respect for Sole in the process.
How would Romanced!Companions react to a Synth version of Sole's spouse coming back?
Cait: “You’re not considering replacing me with a robot, are ya?” Cait asked as if it was an obvious joke. Sole would clasp her shoulder and reassure her that no one could ever take her place. But instead, Sole looked at their feet in shame. “He’s/She’s a synth, for fuck’s sake! I’m a real person!” She shoved Sole. Tears stung her eyes. Cait could hardly speak when she added, “I love you, Sole. This thing does not.”
Curie: “I understand the plight of synths as well as any of us. But Sole... this person is not Nate/Nora. Surely they know this?” Curie listened patiently as Sole explained how their spouse’s synth had memories of their marriage and Shaun. Hell, they even remembered when the bombs fell. “If you must help them navigate these feelings, I support you, my love. I just need reassurance that throughout this journey you remember our own special bond.”
Danse: “That is... disturbing.” Danse understood exactly what it was like to have memories that weren’t your own. A voice sounding like someone else. A body that was created to house a different soul. His veins iced with terror when he thought of what memories Nate/Nora held of Sole. And if that changed his relationship with them. “What are you going to do?” The question made Danse’s belly heavy as lead. He almost didn’t want to know their answer, but ultimately it was Sole’s choice.
Deacon: Deacon sometimes wondered what he’d do if another synth of Barbara came back. He knew she wouldn’t be the original, but the Institute would’ve probably loaded her brain with memories of their marriage and lazy days on the farm and dreams of starting a family. Maybe even darker ones, such as her murder. He truly felt for what Nate’s/Nora’s synth was enduring. Hell, he could only imagine what was going through Sole’s own head. The spy just had one question, and he asked it as he stroked the back of Sole’s neck with a tender touch. “Will you choose me?” Deacon didn’t have it in him to admit to Sole that he’d choose them over Barbara every time. Even the real Barbara. He was afraid Sole would think he was lying.
Hancock: “Does he/she have everything he/she needs?” Hancock knew how dangerous the Commonwealth was for a newborn synth. Their occasional memory lapses and self-doubt made for unsavory scams and itchy trigger fingers. He would worry about any jealousy he harbored after he made sure Nate/Nora and Sole were safe. “Tell them to come to Goodneighbor. Hell, I’ll even bring them home myself.” Sole tried to search Hancock’s eyes for any lingering feelings, but the ghoul stayed stoic and calm. “I know we’re thick as thieves, Sunshine. I ain’t about to let anyone fuck with what we got.”
MacCready: MacCready used to have nightmares about Lucy when he and Sole first got together. He dreamt that she found them asleep in bed; his muscled arm slung over Sole’s body like a security blanket. Even after he woke up, MacCready could still hear Lucy’s soft crying in the birds chirping outside his window or water running as Sole drew a bath. Moving on from Lucy sometimes felt like betrayal. But now Sole didn’t have to move on from Nate/Nora, and he wasn’t sure where that left him. “I’m, um, happy for you. But, I mean...” MacCready anxiously scratched the back of his neck. “Where does that leave us, Sole? Are you gonna leave me for a synth?” Because the truth was, MacCready would never leave Sole for Lucy’s ghost no matter how badly she haunted him.
Preston: “The Institute will really stop at nothing to get you back.” Preston was sure this was the boogeymen’s last attempt at stealing Sole from the Minutemen. Yet underneath his initial anger, there was worry. He wasn’t sure if Sole still loved their spouse enough to leave him for their imitation. “Promise me you won’t fall for it, babe. This has to be a trap.”
Piper: “You know they’re not really your spouse, right?” Piper was terrified at the prospect of Sole’s husband/wife returning. She had no idea if Sole would leave her for them. And if Sole did, Piper worried it meant she’d been a placeholder all along. “They’ll walk and talk like Nate/Nora, but it isn’t them. I’m really me, Blue. Just... remember that when you’re with them.”
Nick: Nick was extremely sensitive to Sole’s feelings when Nate/Nora returned, albeit as a synth. Sole had already been through so much, and he was worried this would rekindle their grief. “Anything you need, just let me know.” He knew Sole wouldn’t leave him. His partner just needed space and understanding.
X6-88: X6 was furious at Father for bringing back Sole’s spouse. Everyone in the Institute knew how close he had gotten to Sole, and he worried their relationship would be thrown away to this... lesser synth. “Be wise about this, Sole. They aren’t who they think they are. That’s the entire point of rogue synths.”
How do you think the fallout 4 companions would react to having traveled with sole for a few months and sole only referring to them as "pal, buddy, bro etc." and then finally braking down and telling them they can't for the life of them remember their name, but they were just too embarrassed to ask again
Cait: “It’s literally one syllable, Sole!” Cait’s face flushed when Sole just shrugged. “I’m your only companion with such a short name.” Then Sole reminded her of Danse and Nick, and Cait swung a punch that Sole barely dodged.
Codsworth: “The effects of cryostasis must still be affecting your long-term memory.” Codsworth rattled chipperly and blinked in the endearing way he always did when he wanted to mimic smiling. “Not to worry, sir/mum! I’m Codsworth; your faithful Mr. Handy from General Atomic’s finest!” He literally couldn’t fathom Sole actually not remembering him.
Curie: “I do not mean to offend, but I think I rather you have kept that to yourself.” Curie shook her head in pity. “That is embarrassing, Sole. I hope you feel very awkward right now.” Even though Curie was only partly-teasing, she still insisted Sole take extra vitamins to keep up their mental fortitude.
Danse: “I call you soldier out of respect,” Danse said, his mouth stretched in a long frown. “You do it because you don’t know what else to call me. How long were you going to keep up the charade?” Sole admitted they hoped until another Brotherhood soldier said his name, but everyone just seemed to call him Paladin.
Deacon: “If it makes you feel better, Deacon isn’t actually my real name. I tell raw recruits my codename is to safeguard my identity, but really it’s because my real name is... embarrassing.” Deacon’s blush seemed genuine, and he scratched the back of his neck until Sole finally asked what his name was. “Funnily enough, I’m Sole, too!” He giggled like a kid until Sole gave him a playful shove.
Hancock: “I don’t remember my name half the time anyways.” Hancock seemed completely unbothered by this revelation. It was nearly impossible to offend him. “You can start calling me Hancock, or The Best Damn Mayor in the Commonwealth.” Then Hancock tried to pronounce the last nickname as an acronym, and both of them laughed it off.
MacCready: “You’re kidding.” MacCready searched Sole’s face for hints of a prank. When it was evident Sole was telling the truth, his ears burned red. “We’ve been traveling together for, like, months! You don’t even know the name of the merc you hired? Next time we’re in Sanctuary I’m having Curie look at your head.”
Preston: “Oh, um. I’m Preston.” Preston absolutely internalized this as being so forgettable that Sole couldn’t even remember the first human they came into contact with after leaving the vault. Ouch.
Piper: “Need me to come up with a color for myself? It seems to be the only rudimentary thing you can remember, Blue.” Piper then only referred to herself as Red, which only made Sole feel worse.
Nick: “Sole, you come by my office almost every day.” Nick rubbed his face in sheer defeat. “Did the sign out front never jog your memory?” Sole admitted they thought Nick was just a hopeless romantic, and Nick threw a wad of paper at their head.
X6-88: “It has a lot of numbers. I completely understand, sir/ma’am.” X6 wasn’t offended. In truth, he literally did not care.
synopsis: you ask to sleep over at eddie’s for the first time, and he undoubtedly is head over heels for you
word count: 1.2k
authors notes: somebody requested this before i started my blog over! if this finds u, im sending you a cookie and a kiss, as promised x
warnings: fem!reader, use of gendered pet names (princess, pretty girl), dialogue is…….cheesy cringe a little😔, clueless eddie, kissing !!!
“Goddamit.”
Eddie hisses beside you at the jumpscare on screen. It was the quietest sound, drowned underneath the blood-curdling screams in the film. It probably would’ve gone completely unnoticed. Unluckily for him, it didn’t. Luckily for you, your legs were draped over his lap, so the mechanical jolt of fright sent your own legs jumping into the air.
His head is thrown against the back of his couch as he slaps his free hand over his eyes. You giggle as you watch his skin flush scarlet underneath your stare.
“Eddie, it’s okay,” you coo, voice shaky in between your laughter.
The embarrassment doesn’t quite subside, but the sound of your infectious giggle and the feeling of you moving into his lap to pry away his fingers is enough to have his chest rumbling with mirrored joy. He gazes up at you as you hold his hands.
“You scared, Eds?”
You don’t mean for it to sound like you’re teasing, but he laughs anyway. With a grin, he shakes his head wildly and clasps his hands around your back.
“Nope, I’ve got a princess to protect me.”
He pushes you down into the couch so that he’s hovering above you, and you respond with a squeal. Your legs are locked around his waist as his hands dig into the plush of the cushion beside your head. He leans down with a proud smile to press a kiss to your mouth.
The kisses are sloppy. He litters your face and neck in open-mouthed love bites, none hard enough to leave any mark. When he reaches your lips, it’s more smiles and spit than any real kiss, but neither of you seem to mind. Not when the smell of his citrusy shampoo wraps around your figure to make you dizzy. Not when your hands roam along his biceps and up to the nape of his neck like you’re the only thing keeping him from floating away.
It’s a mess of hushed teasing and giggles and clashing teeth, and it’s perfect.
As he pushes himself up for a moment of air, he looks off to the side before releasing a displeased sigh. “Shit, it’s getting late,” he observes solemnly.
He sits back on his heels, just far away enough for you to hold yourself up. You follow his line of sight and find that the digital clock on the shelf reads 11:15. Your shoulders deflate and your heart sinks.
“It is kinda late, isn’t it?”
Once you turn back to him, his eyes are stuck on you. Gorgeous, dilated pupils run across the high points of your cheekbones and back down to your lips. His gaze commands a rush of heat to caress your skin until your insides are set ablaze and your mouth is painfully dry.
The utter lack of urgency may as well have been a weighted blanket.
One of his arms snakes around your waist to pull you into him further. He leans forward, tilting his head ever-so-slightly to catch your lips.
This one is less playful than the ones you shared just seconds before. His movements are languid, purposeful. Like all the air had been stolen from his lungs and you were oxygen.
Your elbows threaten to buckle underneath your weight. Though, you’d happily sink back into the couch cushions and let them swallow you whole, if it meant you got to kiss him all night. And he’d just as eagerly take up the opportunity to have you underneath him for as long as he could entertain.
But he’s pulling away. Your foreheads rest together as you wear matching expressions of bliss: eyes closed, and slick, kiss-bitten lips parted. His thumb sinks underneath the hem of your shirt to dance across your skin. Another weighted blanket.
“I’ll drive ya,” he whispers reluctantly.
You watch as Eddie stands to stretch, and the warmth follows. A pensive wrinkle makes home between his brows as he slowly moves to grab his jacket. This, along with the nagging feeling in your chest, was routine whenever you spent the day at his place.
It’s not that he hasn’t offered for you to spend the night before, because he’s suggested it quite a few times. It was just so scary. The nerves bubble and spill over and it’s just all a mess inside your head whenever you want to ask.
Today is something different, though. All that occupies your mind is Eddie, Eddie, Eddie and suddenly, you think it’d be impossible to spend the night without him.
“Really? You’re not tired?” The questions run off your tongue without a second thought.
“Well, I’m wide awake now,” he jests, running the metal of his rings over his bottom lip. He pats the pockets of his jacket for his keys, and when he comes up empty, he searches the kitchen counter.
The fear creeps back into your head as you watch him rifle through drawers. It makes you shrink in on yourself as you trudge over to your shoes that lay haphazardly by the door.
“Are you sure? I don’t want you to drive if you’re tired,” you ask softer.
Noticing a change in your demeanor, he looks up at you to see your teeth worrying at your lower lip. “I’m sure,” he insists sweetly, “Can’t let my pretty girl drive alone in the dark.”
He finally finds his keys and moves over to where his own pair of shoes rested beside yours. He sends you an easy grin and it makes it all the harder to swallow down your anxieties.
“It’s foggy out,” you mention faintly. You don’t know what the weather is like outside. It was merely you grasping at straws to freeze him in his motion. You’re sure it’s blatantly obvious at this point, expecting a light tease from the wavy-haired boy.
But oblivious as he is, Eddie peeks out the blinds anyway to scan the trailer park. He hums. It’s a little gloomy, but hardly anything to worry about. Just as he’s about to reassure you again, he pauses when he spots your fingers fidgeting with a loose seam in your sleeve. You’re staring down at your shoes — which you’ve purposely done a poor job of putting on, as they’re only halfway on your feet — with your tongue bitten between your teeth.
“Maybe…” you pause to take a deep inhale. “It’s probably better if I stay? If that's okay with you, I mean.”
Then, does Eddie freeze. And he feels like an absolute fool.
He feels like an absolute fool for being the one to get up first. For not getting the totally conspicuous hints you’ve been trying to give him for the past minute and a half. For being so focused on trying to find his damn keys that he hoped he’d lost in the first place. And for standing in shocked silence for so long that you’ve begun to frown and properly shove your ankles inside your shoes.
“Yeah,” he replies abruptly, reaching out for your arm.
“Yeah?” The hopeful rise in your inflection makes him gently squeeze your elbow.
“Yeah, of course you can stay. I want you to.”
You nod. You duck your chin to your chest to hide the shy smile on your lips, but to no avail. Eddie can spot your bright grin from a mile away and makes him go weak in the knees with a blush that he’s sure is making its way to his cheeks.
“Just to be safe, ya know,” you add before toeing off your shoes and pushing them closer to the wall.
“Why are you blowing this out of proportion?!” Eddie’s voice bellowed from behind you as you stormed out of his room with him hot on your trail.
The last half hour had been spent arguing, speaking over each other instead of listening and you were tired of it. You didn’t want to listen to him anyways and clearly it wasn’t going anywhere so you would be.
“SHE LIKES YOU, EDDIE! She doesn’t want to be just a customer, she doesn’t want to be your friend, she wants to fuck you!” You shouted back, as you snatched your bag from where you’d left it on the couch and whirled around to face him.
He was red cheeked, brows cinched together, mouth set in a hard line; one grimace away from being a full blown scowl.
Eddie floundered a bit, mouth dropping open and shut repeatedly before he found his ground and stuttered out with his arms flying about to emphasize his frustration, “So? So what!? It’s not like I’m gonna drop my pants the second she’s near!”
You could only stare at him in disbelief, absolutely offended that your boyfriend was well aware of her interest in him and could be that fucking stupid or that fucking careless with your feelings.
So, you snapped.
“‘So?’”
Eddie didn’t bother masking the annoyance in his excessively loud sigh, arms and shoulders dropping back as he raised his face towards the ceiling. He knew that fucking tone of yours and what it meant was coming next.
“SO YOU DON’T FUCKING INVITE HER OVER TO YOUR HOUSE TO BUY DRUGS! NOT WHEN YOU’VE GOT A LESS INTIMATE FUCKING PLACE ESTABLISHED TO DO YOUR DEALS AT ALREADY, EDDIE!”
His hands dug for purchase in his hair, “OH MY GOD! Do you HEAR yourself right now? All this because you’re just jealous?!”
You didn’t stop, you were back to talking over each other again, “You want her to think she’s special, Eddie? Did you give her a deal for being pretty and flirty?”
“MAYBE I DID!”
Suddenly, you weren’t talking over him anymore. You didn’t even look mad. And that kind of scared him.
The anger washed right out of you and you looked disengaged from the conversation in a manner so natural it chipped at Eddie’s heart, anxiety sinking into his belly.
“Okay, I get it.”
Eddie sighed, eyes squeezing shut as realized he’d crossed an obvious line in the heat of the moment. You turned, hand on the door and Eddie’s arms darted out, desperate to stop you when you flinched away, causing Eddie to also flinch back but it was the words you so casually spoke next that made him feel like he’d been shot.
“Please don’t fucking touch me,” The door was opened, and quietly shut behind you.
Then you were gone and Eddie stood there like an idiot, staring at the door and hoping you’d come right back through it.
