#“I can't stay halfway dead forever”

[darcydarlingdabbles]

Helpless in Her Hold

//The Drow twins' proposition of Tav surfaces some insecurities for Astaron. Hurt/Comfort, angst but happy ending. CW: Unhealthy relationship to sex/sexuality, identity issues. Not edited... Song Rec: Supposed to Be (Acoustic) By Icon for Hire//

Astarion x f!Tav, Canonish, Act 3

2.1k

Astarion watched, helpless, with his dead heart in his throat as the drow twins propositioned Tav. His Tav. He want to growl it and glower until no one else in this pleasure den deigned to offer their services.

Why did she have to be such a lure for elven whores?

Astarion leaned back against the wall, hardly resisting the urge to fold his arms and sulk in plain view of the whole party. He wasn’t a child whose toy was being played with—and yet, the brightness of her eyes and the laugh on her lips had him wanting to pout and whinge like a toddler.

“I appreciate the offer, I do, but I must decline.” Tav shook her head. Though personally the vampire thought she could be a little more rude in her rejection.

Because the damn twins were were still giving her looks that were far too inviting. Not that Tav saw, because her eyes had landed back on him, and Astarion was just thanking his lucky stars he’d perfected the mask he wore.

“Is that your partner?” The female drow asked, her smile making disgust creep up his spine—it was easy to see where this was going. “We’d be happy to have you both.”

“My dear, I’m afraid you’d be the one parting with your gold.” A high laugh slipped from Astarion’s lips. “And, I do doubt you could afford me.”

He saw the twins’ mirrored expressions of bewilderment turn to glee for only a flash before Tav was excusing herself from them. Swiftly stepping over to him with—that damnable look on her face.

Oh he knew those eyes, so drawn with her concern and on the verge of pity. Tav looked like that when she was about to do something so dreadfully kind it might make him wretch.

And he could not be the broken toy when she was being offered two shiny new ones.

“Astarion—” Tav began in that tone, and he had to preempt her.

“I know pet, tempting as it is, I simply must decline.”

“Yeah?” Tav utterly confounded him with that lifted smile. “That’s good.”

“Good..?” Astarion asked, his mind trying to race ahead. Find the traps and disarm them before they sprung.

She’d preached to him over and over again about his choice, and what he wanted and how that mattered to her for some reason.

Only for him to make a decision about the drow for her.

Shit.

It was a test. It had to be. She respected his choices, now he was expected to reciprocate.

“Ah I see.” Astarion inclined his head to her, a salacious smile on his lips. “You haven’t had much attention lately…it has been a while for us.”

Tav blinked, and then those bright eyes were on his, searching him out. The pale elf would cling to the façade by the skin of his fangs, if it meant he could keep her.

She turned, and Astarion prepared for the feeling of a stake through his heart.

“Well, if my partner isn’t interested, neither am I.” Tav brushed off the twins’ advances with as much grace as one could muster. Until they finally had the tact to move to other potential patrons.

She was already leading the way out of Sharess’ Caress before Astarion had recovered from his shock.

The cold night air near Baulder’s Gate finally woke him.

“You could have gone with them, you know.” He blurted, wondering why in the Hells she hadn’t. It wasn’t like he was satiating her hungers.

Astarion felt Tav shrug her shoulder through their linked hands. “I’m not interested in any little tryst if it’s at your expense.”

She said it so simple, so easy, as if it were hardly worth a second thought.

Astarion’s mind was still reeling, but he put on a smirk. “Stop being so kind to me; it almost makes me want to return the favor.” 

As if it were a debt he could ever repay her.

…

Hours later, Tav lay in her darkened room, sleep evading her. The soft click of a lock being picked made her tense, hand instinctively grasping the dagger beneath her pillow. But the familiar silhouette slipping through the door made her relax.

"Hello, my darling," Astarion purred as he approached, her darkvision letting her see how his ruby eyes glinted. “Haven’t you gotten accustom to me creeping into your bed?”

"It has been a moment since you came looking for a cuddle?" Tav teased softly, tilting her head. His appearance at this hour had her wondering. The dark of night and hushed voices already strummed tension in the air between them.

“I do seek…something akin to that.”

Astarion perched on the edge of the bed, long fingers skimming up her bare arm and leaving goosebumps in their wake. Despite all her thoughts trying to tame her reaction, for now.

"I merely wished to express my gratitude, my sweet. For standing by me, even knowing what I am. What I've done. And what I haven’t."

“What you…haven’t?” Her half-awake mind might be jumping to conclusions, surely. Twining their fingers together, Tav brought his hand to her lips, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles. "You never have to thank me for that."

Astarion's eyes shimmered suspiciously in the darkness before he blinked it away, his trademark smirk back in place. "I want to thank you," he purred, “Won’t you, let me?”

He moved then, pressing her back into the soft pillow she’d been having trouble sleeping on after so many nights spent in the dirt.

Though the familiar weight of him was already making the bed more appealing. Now, just like every time he fed from her, he cradled her skull and tilted her head back so tenderly. It was comforting, it was an intimate moment she was happy to share with him.

His eyes didn’t meet hers as he ducked his head. Usually he lingered, to make sure Tav was alright before his fangs pierced her flesh. So why did she feel lips caressing her neck?

Her fingers slid into his hair, trying to get a grip on herself as much as she was on his curls.

“Star, what’s going on?”

The chuckle he gave was at the base of her neck, lips and tongue teasing at her collarbones in a way that made her skin tingle.

“Returning the favor.” He purred. “You deserve it.”

Tav swallowed under his clever mouth, trying to hear what her mind was screaming at her before it could be drowned out by the sweet words and sweeter lips.

Suddenly his face was swimming before hers, still not letting her catch his eye as he cupped her cheek. “So very few people get what they deserve—you, as always, should be the exception.”

Astation, with his ethereal beauty and perfect words, had her stunned. It wasn’t until he lowered his mouth to hers that her mind caught up.

“I don’t deserve anything you don’t wish to give.” Tav managed against his mouth, giving a gentle tug to his hair to get him to pull back.

“My sweet…I very much wish to give.”

That silver tongue slipped right past her protesting lips.

…

The elf was certain he had her when those hands slipped from his hair to cup his face in her palms. Her thumbs stroked over his high cheekbones.

“Astarion, wait.” Tav breathed.

He stilled, pulling back, fear flickering over his features as he was sure he’d somehow hurt her—when he saw it.

That damnable look in her eyes.

“Wait—we’ve done nothing but the waiting.” He snapped.

And Tav, damn her, gave a softer look still. “I’m willing to wait longer, as long as it takes.”

Astarion's posture stiffened, his back becoming an iron rod as he sat upright. "Is that how you see me then?" He couldn't keep the defensive edge from seeping into his voice. Drawing it like a blade when he felt his throat was bared.

"All shattered on the inside? Some broken doll you no longer play with? Am I to be put on a shelf and never touched again?"

“Astarion, you aren’t—” She moved to touch him, but he rose abruptly, evading her reach.

He didn’t even know why he did it. But the way her hand fell back to the bed, dejected, hurt him just as the pain he saw on her face.

"I know you aren’t fragile," Tav said with conviction, eyes pleading for him to understand.

“Then what? Am I some charity case to you? Is that what you get off on?”

Astarion hated it the moment he said it. But, the fangs showed whenever vulnerability crept up on him.

She stayed silent, and he had to fill that void before it consumed him.

“I’m not some delicate boy with a broken heart. I have wants. And I can see that you have them too. So, why not?”

“Is that what you want?” Tav smothered his outrage like a blanket over a campfire.

His shoulders sagged under the weight of his uncertainty.

“I don’t know.” The words barely escaped his lips before they broke apart into whispers of self-doubt. “Gods, I don’t know how to do any of this.” A frustrated hand raked through his white curls.

He wanted her. He wanted to see her looks of want and he wanted to be the one to fulfill her desires.

He wanted to keep her.

She sat up, legs hanging off the bed. And his eyes were drawn to the bare skin of her thighs exposed by her loose sleep clothes.

“Astarion, what do you want?”

He stared down at her, red eyes probing for a hint of the right answer. What did she want him to say? He would say it.

But Tav held without giving an inch.

“Why do you always ask the most difficult things?”

"I’m sorry." she whispered back.

"Don’t. I want—no, I need to know that I am still wanted by you." The confession fell from his lips like a plea. "You who’ve given me so much and seen broken I am. You who’ve made me wonder if I do indeed have any pieces left of my own soul…” The words were on his tongue, but his throat constricted around baring his neck one last time. “Do you still want me?”

“I will always want you.” Tav’s reply came without hesitation or doubt.

Either he had gotten to sloppy to see it—or there was simply no guile in her.

Tav reached out, her hand finding his where he stood frozen. He could feel the tension coursing through him—an all too familiar vulnerability that he constantly tried to suppress.

“Then let me give you something in return.” He dropped to his knees before her, desperation etched into every feature. .“Please, Tav.”

She lifted the hand she held, cupping it in both of hers, before she pressed his touch against her chest. And he had a moment to hope, that maybe, she would just let him give a fraction of what she’d given him.

“You’ve given me everything already, my heart.”

A scornful snort burst from him, everything in him prepared to banish her romanticized drivel with a dose of reality.

“This,” Her fingers tightened around the fabric of his shirt over his chest. “Past the petty armor you wear. Beneath the pretty face and clever tongue,” She yanked him close before he could quip back.“That is what you give me; parts of you that you’ve given to no one else.”

When he looked at her then, he had no idea what she might see, even if he could use a mirror.

“Your kindness, your hurt, your wants. The truth of you. That’s what I want.”

“I can’t give—“ Astarion couldn’t get this damn silver tongue of his around a his words. “I don’t know what that is…who I am.”

“Then we can both find out. That’s all I ask of you.”

He swallowed hard as her words left him parched and speechless. The notion that he might still have something to offer, a piece of himself that was untouched.

Astarion found himself staring at her, wonder and disbelief battling for dominance in his gaze.

A gentleness tugged at Tav's lips. And for a fleeting moment, Astarion dared to believe that perhaps he could have this.

He moved up, but only to wrap his arms around her. To engulf her in his embrace. Just as that night when she wrapped her arms around him, and first showed him that there was affection, there was closeness, without the expectation of more.

Astarion would be just fine if he was helpless in her arms.

[chaosmultiverse]

@playedbetter

"Max"'s face nor eyes went up to meet the stranger, it was best to play it as though he was very shy, anti social, someone who makes social encounters dull.

"Oh yes, that's me." He simply replied holding the package closer, and continuing to look at the ground, his bangs covering most of his face.

'Max' was someone dressed rather plainly though... notably out of date given his long selved shirt & t-shirt, as for his bottoms he was wearing plain black leggings & well worn running shoes.

The package itself was roughly the size of his torso, just a little smaller & it was a amazon box that was marked fragile & that it had to stay right way up.

"Can I help you?"

[jaewritesfic]

Everlasting Trio DPxDC Nobody Knows Au

I love nobody knows aus.

I love aus where danny flees to Gotham after a Bad Time with his parents.

So what if:

Sam moves to Gotham for college after graduation. Tucker has flown down from MIT over the semester break to spend the month with her. They've stayed very close knit.

They're having brunch at a small cafe maybe a week in, and suddenly Sam's hand darts across the table and grips his forearm so tight it hurts.

He startles and asks her what's wrong, but she doesn't answer. She's too busy staring across the room with a haunted look on her face. Tucker follows her gaze and goes cold and still with shock and disbelief.

They're both frozen because that? That looks like Danny.

Danny, their childhood best friend. Danny who came to their freshman year of high school a little different. Withdrawn.

Danny who kept pulling away and making excuses no matter how hard they tried to engage him, who looked more tired and ragged with every passing week.

Danny who disappeared without a trace shortly after he turned sixteen and who, though it largely went unspoken, they believed dead and gone forever.

"It's not," Tucker whispers weakly. "It can't be, right?"

The guy across the cafe is older than the kid they remember, of course. Around twenty, exactly how old they are. How old Danny should be. He's tall, tall like they and Jazz always assured Danny he would be once he hit a growth spurt and into his dad's genes.

His nails are painted and his ears are pierced and his hair is a little longer, but he sits in front of his papers and computer with eerily familiar bad posture and a pen tapping at his bottom lip like their Danny always did when he tried to focus.

He looks leagues healthier than their Danny did before he went missing.

He huffs a breath out of his nose and pokes his bottom lip out as he scowls at something on his screen, and before Tucker can even process the gut punch of such a familiar mannerism Sam is out of her chair and halfway across the cafe.

Tucker scrambles after her with half coherent protests.

He reaches the table as Sam slams herself down into the chair across from the doppelganger, the guy jerking in surprise and blinking up at his two unexpected guests with confusion and alarm.

Then, slowly, Tucker watches his face go pale and the confusion be replaced with dawning shock, recognition and something unreadable.

"Oh," Danny breathes.

[kradogsrats]

The last time Lissa cries is in Katolis.

As she rides away, she feels as if she'll weep forever—tears she can't stop flowing down her cheeks, ceaseless and steady—but when she crosses into Del Bar, her face and eyes are dry. Her parents welcome her back into their home. Her siblings and their children turning out to comfort her. Lissa smiles and thanks them, lets them embrace her.

None of them say, I told you so. Not outright, at least. She can tell some of them are thinking it.

Doesn't seem all that broken up about it, does she? Not a single tear.

Shush—let the poor girl be. Not all pains can be wept over right away.

But when her mother falls ill, she doesn't cry like her sisters do. When they bury her—when her father, always mountain-strong, is reduced to gravel in his children's arms—she has no tears to shed.

Nor does she weep for her brother's son—young and bright and brimming with promise—dead the instant his horse throws him, his neck snapped cleanly. He'd planned to marry his sweetheart, in a year or two. There's a funeral instead, the other boy's anguished tears a river of grief.

Lissa still does not cry. No matter the sorrow, her eyes sit in her head like stones, hard and heavy. Dry as bone, even as her throat closes and her chest burns like her heart is on fire.

There are no tears from her even for her second sister's husband, a sailor whose ship never returns from its last journey through the spring storms. Her sister holds her own shattered pieces together for the sake of their small children, and the family rallies to support her with food and chores and company. They cry with her, late into the night—all of them, except for Lissa.

Cold as the heart of Hinterpeak, that one.

You're surprised? She married a mage, she was cursed from the start.

Then she abandoned her children in the snake's den, when she'd had her fill of him and his poison.

I suppose it takes a monster to love a monster.

What could she tell them—that Viren had meant no ill? That she'd been the collateral damage of a miracle, a negligible cost for saving a child from death? That her children were better served by staying with a father who loved them so fiercely than by their broken mother dragging them away?

That when he'd stumbled in half-mad, his face scarred beyond recognition, ranting and raving his demands that she weep to save their son, she had refused? That she'd feared what he might take from her, as if anything she possessed could be worth more than Soren's life?

That when his hand twisted in her hair and the cold glass pressed against her cheek, she cried not for Soren, but for the man she'd loved and the monster he'd become?

That, most of all, she had cried for herself?

She stays quiet, and does not cry.

Her father finally passes, never recovered from her mother's loss, and her brother approaches on behalf of the family. We love you, Lissy, you know that—but we think it would be best if you didn't come to the funeral.

Lissa's heart burns, her throat clenched tight against any protest, and she nods. She leaves that night, vanishing into the mountains. No one comes looking for her.

She settles outside a remote village, in a tiny hut halfway up the mountain, more a hunter's seasonal shelter than a house. She busies herself with survival—tends a garden, hunts and forages. Down in the village, she trades the pelts of what she can trap, and sometimes plays the decrepit, barely-tuned piano in the tavern for coins.

That's where she hears of the great march on Xadia. King Viren of Katolis, leading the united Pentarchy to end the threat of dragons for good.

Lissa returns to the tavern every day after that, desperate for more news—it's barely a week later when she hears he's dead, his army broken by an alliance between the elves of Xadia and those loyal to King Harrow's son. There is no mention of her children in any of the garbled rumors.

It's almost a relief, that she doesn't cry for Viren.

But Soren would be old enough to have joined the Crownguard, just as he'd always wanted. With two kings dead in such quick succession—first King Harrow, and then, somehow, his own father—could she even dare hope he still lives? And Claudia, so fascinated by magic, even when it tore their family apart—had she succumbed to all its dangers? Would Viren have let her walk a different path, if she chose?

She imagines going back, demanding to know what happened to her son and daughter—if Viren remained in a place sufficiently prominent to somehow become king, someone has to know. She imagines seeing them again, being able to run to them and take them in her arms. She imagines crying, then—a decade of stolen tears released in a flood of joy and relief.

Then she imagines their revulsion at the mother who left them, should she be unable to shed a single tear of grief or regret.

Lissa stops going to the tavern. Her heart burns as if its falling to ash.

She doesn't cry.

[grogusmum]

TIME AFTER TIME (drabble)

Max Phillips x f!Reader

For @burntheedges Roll-a-Trope Writng Challenge. My trope is reincarnation with Max Phillips .

Of course, I am incredibly late, and it's just a little drabble. More of these two might come down the pike... I don't know just now.

Let me clear up the discourse on Vampires and their need to rest… or not.

Sure, it's very melodramatic to imagine someone who lives forever and doesn't sleep.

All the emo vamps love that headcanon.

Vampires sleep… okay. But we don't dream. We sleep like the dead. And nothing’s going on in there.

Until I did.

I'm Max, by the way. Max Phillips, Aries, vampire, award winning director of sales.

I have to say, it was disconcerting. It was always the same, well, not really. It was always a vivid dream about some couple. One from the 40s, a GI coming home from war and his wife meeting him at the train.

Some newly weds with heart eyes for each other, 1920s from the clothes… over and over, doing just everyday things.

So domestic.

So quaint.

So boring.

Here's the thing, whether gay, straight, black, white, whatever, one half of every pair, was me. And that other person, the love of my life, is the same person no matter what they look like. Sometimes I'm watching like it's a movie, sometimes I am in the action.

I don't know much more than how much I love them. And they love me.

It's weird.

Anyway, one night, I'm out looking for a bite of something, and this sweet little morsel is walking on their own. So soft and delicious looking…

Walking along, you know you should keep to the more bustling streets, but if you cut across Manard to Wells, you'll be home so much faster. It's been such a long and trying day. It's not like it's some dark alley, you justify to yourself, and you hop off the curb and cross to the side street.

At this, Max smiles, a wide thin smile. Perfect, he thinks.

Max allows you several yards. He's in no hurry. No fear that you'll slip away. Then he crosses Manard and turns onto Wells.

It's lit, residential window glow from the lights of reading lamps and televisions from within. But it's quiet. Probably more quiet than you anticipated when you chose the short cut.

Tsk tsk, always stay on the path, Little Red, he thinks, short cuts through the woods never bode well for sweet morsels like you, poor lamb.

Under a street light, he sees it, the moment you realize he's there. The telltale tension in your shoulders. A hesitation in your step. A head turn, not all the way, of course, you know better than that, just enough to listen. Trying to decide if he is following you or just on his own way home.

Almost at the halfway point, you know your step stuttered for a beat, to your annoyance. Maybe this is the guy's street, maybe he didn't notice. You too far in, you can't double back, so you press on. You put your phone to your ear, no, you're not calling anyone - just making it seem so.

“Nice night.”

You would have jumped in surprise if you had time, but you are pulled off the street so - well, quickly doesn't come close. It's like you appeared suddley in the alley

Your gasp, though, almost makes Max feel bad.

Almost. Because the fear is his favorite part, and now that your side is pressed up against him, you smell even more delicious. Your breath comes fast and shallow.

“Well, well, Little Red, how far you've strayed from the path.”

“I-”

Max breaths you in, and his brows knit, then turns you to face him. His large hands firm on your upper arms. Like the temperature dropped several degrees, you shiver, teeth chattering - you slowly bring your eyes to meet his.

Max does not gasp, but he doesn't not gasp.

In your eyes he sees lifetimes. Yours and his. The GI and the USO volunteer, the flapper and her beau… All of them.

And he loves you. To his horror more than he loves himself.

“You-”

You continue to tremble, twisting your shoulders arms, but breaking free is not happening.

Suddenly, this man, this assailant's dark eyes are soft, wet even, though a moment before you could almost see a red glow in their coal blackness. Then he is gone before you have time to fully register his vice-like grip had softened.

Confused and relieved, you return to the sidewalk under a streetlamp, he his nowhere. Did you imagine it?

Max watches from the rooftop, as you pull yourself together. Without thinking he follows, not as before to stalk his prey, but now as a protector.

You pull your key from your bag and with a look to the left and right, you push the door open and enter. The door clicks as the lock catches and you are safely inside. Max exhales.

"I'm fucked," Max concludes, as he stands sentry until he hears your apartment door close and the deadbolt and chain.

THANKS FOR READING 💚

[shanastoryteller]

Happy birthday!!!!

WWX identity shenanigans? Or anything!

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33

A-Qing is scared.

Everyone around her is dead.

Everyone except Xiao Xingchen and Chengmei.

She doesn't know what to do. Xiao Xingchen remarks at how strange and reclusive everyone in this town is and she nods and complains, saying she wants to go someplace a little more lively, but Chengmei insists he likes it here.

Xiao Xingchen is blind and can't tell that everyone around them is dead and A-Qing can't tell him because she's supposed to be blind too, because if she tries then Chengmei will discover the truth about her and she'll become just one more dead girl who can't do anything to help anyone.

There has to be something happening here, some spell or trick. Xiao Xingchen had smelled blood on the road but he doesn't seem to notice the air of decay or the way no one around them is breathing. Chengmei has done something to dull Xiao Xingchen's senses or addle his mind, has done something to him that he hasn't done to her.

It's important to her that people underestimate her. She's worked hard to be underestimated. But she's almost regretting it now - maybe it would be better to be walking around in ignorance, rather than having to smile and laugh and pretend that the walking corpses around them don't frighten her halfway into being a corpse herself.

She could leave. Chengmei doesn't care enough about her to stop her, she doesn't think, and maybe she could get some help. But what will happen to Xiao Xingchen while she's gone? What if Chengmei does something terrible to him? What if he takes Xiao Xingchen and leaves and by the time she comes back they're gone forever?

The thought is ever worse than her current situation, so she stays, and hopes one day she'll find an opening to get them to safety.

She's by the river, because the corpses seem to avoid running water, when she sees a woman she's never seen before walking through the mist. A-Qing squints, trying to make sense of what she's seeing as the woman heads in her direction. It makes her nervous, but the corpses have never hurt her before.

She's wearing pale blue robes and she's tall, for a woman, and almost too skinny. Her dark hair falls freely down her back but she has a strange ribbon wrapped around her forehead. A-Qing is trying to figure out what killed her, considering she lacks the puffy face of strangulation or and her robes are free from blood, when she notices a sword at the strange woman's side.

Terror shoots through her. A-Qing yanks her robes to her knees, getting ready to run, when the woman waves at her and shouts, "You there! You're alive, aren't you? Have you seen anyone else alive around here? He'd be this tall, in all white, very pretty?"

A-Qing freezes, mouth dropping open. The woman still has her tongue. Her eyes sting and she desperately tries to blink her tears away, worried if she loses sight of the woman in front her that she'll disappear completely.

This woman is alive. She's got a sword and she's smiling and she's asking for Xiao Xingchen, which means maybe she's a cultivator too, maybe she can save them from Chengmei's horrible games.

A-Qing throws herself at the woman, who in spite of her small stature doesn't so much as sway with the impact, and instead lays a warm hand against her back. "What's all this, then? What are you doing here with all this going on, anyway?" She rubs soothing circles into her back. "Hey, hey, don't cry! It's going to be okay. I may not look like much, but I'm pretty good with stuff like this."

She's warm. She's warm and alive and she's a cultivator and she's going to help.

A-Qing keeps her forehead pressed against the woman's chest and starts talking.

[stealingyourbones]

Hey Bones, I saw your thing about a Bat family member becoming a ghost and it reminded me of a very heart breaking au a friend and I came up with a while back that I don't remember if I submitted or not. Either way, be prepared to have your heart broken.

Tim is dead. He's been dead for a while actually. But No one seems to have noticed. He looks and feels just as solid as he did before he died, even if he's got a lower body temperature and doesn't seem to get hurt on patrol beyond bumps and bruises. Never anything that would land him in med Bay, never anything that would make his family check on him.

No one has noticed the way he doesn't eat anymore, or the fact he doesn't sleep. He's extended his patrol hours and cut back on time at Wayne Enterprises. He's pretty sure not even Alfred noticed. He knows the Kryptonians aren't worried about him not having a heart beat and they have no reason to tell anyone. They know he has a special device that can hide him from their senses and tests it on Kon a lot to make him focus on spacial awareness beyond his hearing. He used it a lot before he died. They just think he hasn't turned it off in a while.

Tim remembers how he died. Not fully, but there are pieces. He remembers he was fighting someone on a bridge and he didn't call for back up because he thought he could handle it. He doesn't remember who he thought he could handle. He remembers something stinging his arm. A bug? No a bug couldn't bite through Kevlar, it was a needle. Then everything started going dark and he was stumbling back. His back hit something hard and he tiped over it. He thought he could land on the other side. He remembers wondering why his suit felt so damp and heavy as the world went black around him.

Tim's body is still at the bottom of the bay where it will likely stay forever with so, so many other bodies. It makes Tim wonder, why him? Why not everyone else who ended up down there? Why not everyone who has died in Gothem? Did he come back like Jason did, is it something to do with being a vigilante? Tim checks his own pulse again while he's alone. Yep. Still dead. He continues on his patrol and tries to shove those thoughts away.

So what if Tim's dead? He's still here and he still has work to do. His family is full of detectives. If they can't figure out that something as important as death has happened to one of their own? Well then Tim thinks they need to pay more attention. He ignores the pain that curls in the back of his mind at that thought.

It's been 6 months. Why hasn't anyone noticed? Tim can't help but wonder if they ever will.

Howdy its me @bonebrokebuddy answering. I'm Twone's (twin bones) twin who is helping answer asks because this fucker has like, over 100 of them in her ask box and I help her with making prompt ideas frequently so she trusts me to not horribly fuck up her account.

This is my first answer for her I've written because I had my screen on low brightness and on darkmode, so your profile jump scared the shit out of me when I scrolled past it. Therefore im answering this one first.

Anywho, from my chronic inability to write angst here goes: Tim died, came back and none of the Bats seemed to care. So what? It's not like his best friends hadn't done the same thing. And he was tired and sick of the Bats thinking his entire life revolved around them.

So he packed up his bags and headed to Kansas.

The Bats might not be worried but neither was Kon or Bart. They're actually thrilled after getting over their initial grief that Tim now has also personally experienced death and came back. The funeral was a rather small, breif, and quiet afar. Kon made sure to help locate Tim's corpse and Bart helped with the eulogy (surprisingly heartfelt and moved them all to tears.)

Sure, they're sad that Tim died but he's right in front of them, it's a little more difficult to morn when you've been laughing at said dead guy who got stuck halfway through phasing out of the wall. And now Tim can keep track with them!

Kon is a little pissed that Tim can now go intangible and escape his TTK so he can't take away Tim's coffee anymore. But it's kinda worth it. The first time he took Rob on his favorite flight path, he's never wanted anything else than to hear Tim's breathless laugh and see his frighteningly perfect smile again. They now often go on flights together, high above the clouds with no-one else but them for thousands of miles around. (it almost felt like a date)

Bart knew this would happen one day. He was from the future, of course he knew that Tim Drake, formerly Red Robin, died at age 19 and changed his alias to The Grey Ghost. It doesn't mean that Bart doesn't morn the passing of his friend. Tim means a lot to him and the brief guilt that he did not stop Tim's death also quickly passes. He can finally show Tim that hiding space in the walls that no one else can get to without phasing through the wall! One other thing. Bart is unsure if Kon has noticed yet, which he knows Kon isn't the most observant of the old young justice crew but he has to have noticed it by now. Ever since Tim left Gotham he's developed an insane appetite despite claiming that he didn't need to eat while in Gotham and also being dead so why does he need to eat? (Unknown to Bart, Kansas doesn't have as much ambient ectoplasm as Gotham and Tim is starting to experience the withdraw symptoms. If the trio don't realize how to fix Tim's worsening symptoms soon, Tim might actually die for good this time.)

[variousqueerthings]

so the thing is, back when i first watched s3 of elementary i was not a fan of joan coming to this moment of "oh maybe i should break up with my stable, attractive, nice, charming boyfriend" only for him to immediately die, because it felt like a cop-out -- that she'd almost come to some kind of moment in figuring herself out, but now she'd be regressing into "oh well, i can't have romantic relationships because it's dangerous, not because i don't want them," there will forever be a tinge of something in her relationship with andrew now, even though she was literally in the process of breaking up with him because it wasn't doing anything for her. a certain rose tint over what was actually happening, which was that she wasn't into the idea of the relationship, or indeed, any romantic relationship

however this time around i'm more into it, because this time i'm suuuuch a fan of the continuous push and pull of introspection and refusal to introspect that exist in both sherlock and joan -- getting the emotional truth out of either of them is like pulling fucking teeth!

the fact that the "aftermath episode" of her bf getting murdered in which joan is steadfastly refusing to Feel Her Feelings is the same episode as the sherlock-and-marcus excursion, in which marcus bell is telling sherlock over and over "call me marcus" and sherlock's grimace makes it clear that too much vulnerability feels like getting stabbed, something he's only allowed five times it seems:

two are with people who are locked up (jamie and abigail, although the latter has some serious extenuating circumstances)

one is dead (alistair, and even then i feel like alistair never knew how much he meant to sherlock)

one is on the run from the law atm (kitty, although i know she works that out)

and joan

(and arguably mycroft, but that's slightly different, they're siblings, being a sibling is smthinsmthin)

and even with them -- with the exception of joan and previously jamie -- he is oh so very careful about how much of himself he shows

it's such a fascinating double-up episode exploring their attitudes towards relationships (the fact that jamie makes a form of appearance and it's via writing a letter to joan!!!!) (also ofc sherlock calls him marcus by the end)

and now back to joan, who is ostensibly much more "adjusted" to living a conventional life, after all she's prepped for conventional since she was a kid! except she really isn't, is she? she's canonically trying to fulfill some assumed goal of normalcy (stated to be expected of her by her mother/upbringing), and she's fighting against it every step of the way. she doesn't do close friendships really (she tried, and she sucked at it until she started meeting people more like sherlock, and then it's a little closer to the way he does "friendships" that is, we create a wide network of people, but we don't have to know that much about each other beyond what we need to support one another), and she certainly doesn't do romance (or, she tries for a bit, but fails over and over) and the entire time she's insistently going "sherlock you need support to figure yourself out, you need some help to stay sober, if you want to talk..."

her whole Thing is that she's very polite and charming, so of course she's not like her standoffish abrasive partner, sherlock, she's the "Nomal One" who's so well-adjusted, except when this life forces her to make decisions beyond her control

and now going "well, i'm dangerous to get close to, so i may as well not try anymore" is another wonderful way to avoid thinking about what she wants. she doesn't have any choices you see, it's simply the way things have to be (oh noooo). anyway this interaction suddenly happens halfway through the episode:

joan: you know i pulled away from you last year because uh… i felt myself sucked into this world that you built. i wanted something normal. something that was mine. sherlock: there's nothing wrong with that. you have a right to your own space, physically and mentally joan: im not sure that i do. i don't think i can keep our work and my private life separate. it just doesn't seem possible. but you already know that, i mean it's part of the reason you life the way that you do sherlock: yes but my choices dont have to be your choices watson joan: it might be better if they were. andrew would have been better off

see, andrew would have been better off, that's what the problem was, suuuuuuure. girl you were in the middle of dumping him when he was murdered, stop avoiding the real issue here! you shouldn't not-be-dating because of The Work, you should be not dating because you... don't want to. you've got to admit that you like the world you were getting sucked into. do it!

(once she's made the change to wearing suits, we know she's started to sort herself out, it's coming, she'll get there)

end of the episode:

joan: i feel... ok. i feel clear about something: our work, what we do... it's not just a job now, it's who i am. i'm a detective, i'm ready to embrace that. i live in this world - your world - and i probably will for the rest of my life sherlock: it isn't my world. it's our world joan: i understand that now. i accept it, i know what it means sherlock: and what does it mean? joan: it means that... it's ridiculous for me to think that... i can have a normal life. i'm not gonna do that anymore.

joan i want to study you like a bug!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(but also, youknow, if it's getting her there, then let her think it's the detective work enacting upon her life like an unstoppable force that she must stop fighting and accept the inevitability of. youknow. that's an aromantic way of looking at things too. can't do romance, oh so unfortunate, but The Work!!!!!!!!!)

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Watching you get hurt is like a blade through the heart, I can't take it.

Could you write a small piece of Highchool AU with this? (Perhaps the night Adam got attacked? Please :<????)

Ouch my own heart.

Beep....... Beep....... Beep......

That was the only sound that Adam could hear as he started to wake up. He groaned, everything ached his head felt heavy. Opening his eyes, light hit him right away making Adam wince.

When he finally adjusted, he opened them to see his arms covered in many wires and bandages. The sheet was pulled up halfway and Adam could see the bandages on his chest. His chest suddenly felt heavy, it throbbed with pain making Adam gasp.

What the fuck happened?

"Adam? Oh my god you're awake." He looked to see Lucifer sitting beside him, his cheeks stains with tears but he was smiling at him. "I was so worried."

"Lu?" Adam's voice was coarse, his throat dry like sandpaper. "What happened?"

Lucifer took Adams hand in his, making sure to be gentle. "You don't remember?"

Adam looked down at their hands, trying to recall what happened. It hit him like a semi, the memory of Alastor coming up from behind and throwing him into the wall before stabbing him.

I don't normally play with my food, but I'll make an exception for you.

The words echoed in Adam's mind, his stomach clenched, chest felt tight.

He was gonna puke.

Sensing this, Lucifer grabbed the trash can and placed it in front of Adam in time as he threw up the contents of his stomach. When he was done Lucifer put it back.

"That fucker stabbed me, he tried to kill me, he called me food." Adam sobbed. He felt a weight move onto the bed and he leaned into Lucifer's chest and cried he didn't care how it looked.

Lucifer was still pissed at that asshole Alastor, he deserves worse than what he did to him for stabbing Adam. "Shhh, it's okay love you're safe now." It took a while for Adam to stop crying. "I'm sorry."

Adam looked up at his boyfriend confused. "The fuck are you sorry for?"

"Not being there. Maybe this wouldn't have happened. Watching you get hurt is like a blade through the heart, I can't take it." Lucifer felt his eyes water again, the memory of Alastor having Adam pinned to that wall, blade in his chest, blood pooling....... Lucifer didn't want to think about it he never showed up.

Adam would be dead for sure.

"Luci, you saved my life. I'm forever grateful to you, I love you." It may be the pain meds talking, but Adam was feeling emotional.

"I love you, too." Lucifer placed a kiss on Adam's forehead. "I'm glad you're alive."

Adam snorted. "Yeah me too."

They stayed like that for a while until Sera and the doctor came in. Adam would be in the hospital until his injuries healed more and Lucifer would visit every day.

[rottenmemes]

the front bottoms—various lyrics sentence starters.

some lines adjusted to fit; feel free to change pronouns, proper nouns, etc. as needed

am i getting into heaven? there’s no fucking way.

i would sleep better on your floor than i ever would in my bed.

learn to accept that the things we have now are the best we've had yet.

your friends are here and they miss you, but they’ll eventually move on.

i will always think about you, ‘cause you remind me of who i am.

i’ve tried and i gave everything i had, but i just gave up.

what we have is nowhere near as good as what we should have by now.

it's okay to give up, 'cause nobody here could care less.

time is running out and i need to choose, the clock is moving faster than it used to.

they say face your fears, but i can't stop running.

i'm scared i'm gonna die as lonely as i feel.

it's okay if you're unhappy—just take a look around. there's no one here that's happy either.

the only thing that'd shut me up now is your hands around my throat.

if i tell you all my secrets, would you tell me all your lies?

i have stitched a mask of confidence and i wear it like a glove.

no one's going to listen ‘til you mean every word you say, so if you can't find the feeling, you better learn to lie—and if you know we're gonna fail, then there's little point to try.

i can't get what i need, and you're all i need.

there are certain things you ask of me, but there are certain things i lack.

you say i'm changing—sorry, i didn't know i had to stay the same.

i think you're changing, but don't worry—you don't have to stay the same.

i shouldn't feel like i have to protect you.

at my funeral, don't lie. tell them i didn’t want to die.

i understand that everybody's got their problems, but you seem to have a little more than anybody.

there are things i think we'll come to regret, and the majority of them are dealing with me.

i used to love the taste, i'd do anything for it—now i'd do anything to get the taste out of my mouth.

what about your friends? don't you love them enough to stay?

it probably won't get easier, just easier to hide—prepare for an aching the rest of your life.

i have this dream that i am hitting my dad with a baseball bat, and he is screaming and crying for help—and maybe halfway through it has more to do with me killing him than it ever did protecting myself.

i believe that, yeah, maybe no one's perfect—but i believe that you're pushing your luck.

there's no doubt in my mind that if you could, then you would try to crack my ribcage open and pull my heart right through.

i've been around long enough now to know that the good things never last.

how low is your self esteem? how low could it possibly be?

i know you're in love with me, and i've been ignoring you.

i’m alone only half of the time, and the other half, i’m only hiding.

i got miles to go 'til i ever get home, but the sound of your laugh and your voice on the phone makes me feel like i’m already there.

hey man, i love you, but no fucking way.

make sure you kiss your knuckles before you punch me in the face.

the good thing about this cast is i can still hold a knife, so if you ever twist my arm again, i'll be sure to put up a fight.

the past few months were pretty rough; a couple times i wished we both were dead.

just try to appreciate what you got while you got it, so if it ever goes away, you can say you enjoyed it while it lasted.

i don't regret it—how could i? you were the best i ever had.

i wish i could pretend to be all of the things you think you see in me.

i don’t care if you’re not sorry; i forgive you.

the farther you go from where you start, the harder it is to get back.

just because something burns bright doesn't mean it's gonna burn forever.

don't feel bad for me, because i won't feel bad for you.

when i wake up, i think of you.

it doesn't get worse, and it doesn't get better; you just get old—it lasts forever.

no one saw me the way you did, and no one's seen me that way since.

i know that no news is good news, but that’s always felt backwards.

i’m bound by love, born to obey.

you are the truth i choose to bend myself around.

a long time ago i promised that if you were happy, then i was happy.

don't take it easy on the animal—i am the animal.

sometimes things work out perfectly when there's nothing to lose.

i don't know where i am, but i've been here before.

i'm sorry for your loss, there's not much i can do.

i could see myself dying for you.

we're both trying, you gotta give us that.

why don't you put your boxing gloves on and punch your punching bag, get some of this rage out you have deep inside of you—you’ll feel better, that's the point.

there was resentment built up that was never expressed properly.

you seem to see through whatever it is about me that's trying to be tough.

this is the fear i was born into, it somehow still affects me today.

it may or may not seem like you're leaving me behind, and it may or may not be always on my mind.

i don’t wanna put a curse on myself—i don’t wanna put a curse on you either.

you don't have to try so hard to not see me around.

the more you give, the worse it gets.

i wanna be good to the people that i love—i want them to think of me as someone that they can trust.

i wanna settle down—i want you to settle down with me.

[omgsquee2001]

Chapter 2: Hell is Forever

As Charlie left to take the phone call with her dad, Angel looked over at Vaggie, [Y/N] and Alastor.

"Hey, I have a question. If freaky face over there is so powerful, then why can't he just make people stay here?" Angel asked.

"Oh, trust me," Alastor smiled menacingly. "I can." Alastor said. Dark Magic swirled around his closed hand.

"Why do you think I'm here?" Husk asked. Everyone looked over at the winged cat demon behind the bar. "You actually think I'd be cleaning bottles and listening to you fucks bitch and moan all the time if he wasn't forcing me?" Husk asked. He wasn't mad at [Y/N]. Despite being upset with their father, Husk actually liked [Y/N]. He thought they were a good kid, despite knowing their secret. As Husk was cleaning a bottle, Niffty popped up from behind the counter.

"I like being forced." She said, and smiled.

"Keep that to yourself, Nif." Husk said, glaring at the smaller woman.

"What? You don't love being here with me, Whiskers?" Angel Dust teased. Husk glared at Angel.

"Call me Whiskers again and I'll jam that bottle down your throat!" Husk shouted, a cat like growl coming from him. Angel smiled.

"Kinky~ Come on, keep talking dirty." Angel said, smirking. Vaggie sighed.

"Angel. Let Husk do his job. And, no, we can't force sinners to stay here." Vaggie said. [Y/N] nodded and looked at the Spider Demon.

"Vaggie's right, Angel. They need to choose to stay here." They said. Angel shrugged.

"I'm choosing to be here and I think it's all stupid. We're in hell, toots. That's kind of the end of the road, ain't it?" Angel asked. Vaggie sighed again.

"Well, Maybe it doesn't have to be. Just because nobody has made it out before doesn't mean it's not possible." She said. [Y/N] nodded. Angel placed a hand on Vaggie's shoulder, giving her a deadpan expression.

"Hey, whatever means I can keep crashing here rent-free. Crack is expensive." Angel said. Charlie was still talking to her dad on the phone. She nodded excitedly.

"Yeah, I can totally, yeah. I'll head over there right away. Okay?" Charlie said, and hung up. She let out an excited gasp. "Yes…YES!" She giggled in excitement and leaned out in front of the wall. She called over to Vaggie. "Vaggie! Holy, shit!" In her excitement, it sounded like gibberish. Vaggie's eye widened in surprise.

"Ah! what?" She asked. Charlie waved over at her girlfriend.

"Get over here!" She mumbled excitedly. Vaggie sighed, a happy smile on her face. She walked over to Charlie.

"What's going on?" Vaggie asked. Charlie took a deep breath to calm her nerves.

"My dad just called, he said that the leader of the Angel Army wants to meet. He asked if I could go instead." Charlie said excitedly. Vaggie placed her hands on Charlie's shoulders, trying to calm her down.

"But-but, the extermination just happened. What could they want this soon after-" She didn't get the chance to finish her sentence as Charlie suddenly started singing.

"I can do this! Somehow, I know it!"

"I'll get Heaven behind my plans!"

Vaggie sighed.

"Charlie, hold on..."

"There's just no way I could blow it."

"Not this once-in-a-lifetime chance!"

"It's just a meeting." Vaggie said, trying to calm her girlfriend down.

"To change their minds

"And touch their hearts

"Or... whatever angels have!"

Vaggie sighed.

"This could be bad..." She said. Charlie walked over to Vaggie and grabbed her hands. Charlie smiled.

"Cheer up, Vaggie!"

"This could be swell!"

"Something tells me that today will be a happy day in Hell!"

Vaggie sighed.

"Okay, but just don't... sing to them." Vaggie said. Angel, Niffty, Alastor, Keekee and [Y/N] all watched as Charlie bounded out the hotel doors into the partially destroyed Pentagram City.

"That bitch is halfway down the street!" Angel said, smirking. Vaggie sighed.

"Is she—?"

Angel smirked and nodded.

"Oh, she's dancin'!" Angel said. Vaggie groaned.

"Ugh, no!"

Charlie made her way down the streets, oblivious to the destruction and dead bodies of demons everywhere as she continued to sing.

"There's a warm, fuzzy feeling.

That wafts through the air."

"Every street so revealing. It's hard not to stare!"

She came to a window of a sex dungeon where a Hellhound was humping against an imp, wearing a sadomasochism mask. The two looked at the girl and she awkwardly walked away from the scene, continuing her song.

"It's a realm so appealing it beats anywhеre.

If you don't mind the smell..."

Charlie accidentally stepped on a dead shark demon that was releasing a fume, making Charlie hold her nose in disgust. She avoided the corpse and continued on.

"It's a happy day in Hell!"

Charlie waved at a demon who was holding a newspaper, however, it was revealed that he had a spoon full of meth.

"Hi, mister!" Charlie said gleefully.

"Go fuck yourself!" The demon shouted. Charlie gave a tight lipped smile and continued on. Another demon opened his window, showing a fire behind him.

"There's an endless trash fire that's burning my soul." The demon sang.

Charlie continued to greet each demon she came across.

"And a ton of barbed wire to shove in his holes!"

"Doing what is required, we all have our role."

"I'm not doin' well!"

"Another shitty day in Hell!"

Charlie climbed up onto the trunk of a destroyed car and faced the other direction from the demons.

"If I can show them the dream I've dreamed.

That any soul can change!"

From the Hazbin Hotel, Vaggie climbed into the watchtower, as if calling out to her girlfriend.

("Those angels' minds are hard to change.")

"Then they will know everyone can be redeemed.

From the evil to the strange!"

("They're bloodthirsty and deranged!")

"I can hear all their stories.

The lost and displaced."

"And I know that they're more of an acquired taste.

But! if I open the door and I give them a place.

At my Hazbin Hotel. It'll be a happy day in Hell!"

A truck drove by, and Charlie hitched a ride from the back to get around the city. She passed porn studios and Cannibal Town.

"From the porn studio.

Where the cinephiles go.

To watch award-winning demon bukkake shows!"

"To the Cannibal Town. Where they don't wear a frown 'cause," Charlie got hit in the eye with the blood from one of the corpses the cannibals were feeding on. "Holy shit! Ew, my gosh! WHY?!" Charlie frowned in disgust. Her frown then turned to a smile.

"And I don't give a crow that. His brain's got in my eye!

Cause with the Shifters gone, I know I can spare them. From Heaven's genocide!"

"I can do this, I just know it!"

"I'll get Heaven behind my plans!

There's just no way I could blow it."

"Not this once-in-a-lifetime chance!

To change their minds."

Right then, a slug demon with a trench coat appeared in front of Charlie, exposing his nude body to her, which freaked her out.

"And touch my parts!"

Charlie smiled awkwardly and with disgust.

"Uh... No thank you. I'm just gonna...

Fulfill my destiny!"

The demon rolled his eyes and pulled his trench coat over his body again. "Your loss, bitch!"

"I can already tell!

Today is gonna bе a fuckin' happy day in Hell!"

~~~~

[Y/N] sighed, a guilty look on their face. They walked into their room and walked over to their window, overlooking Pentagram City. They wrapped their arms around them, and sighed again. There was a sound of a whisper behind them. They already knew that their father was in the room with them.

"[Y/N]? What troubles you?" Alastor asked, walking over and placing his hand on his child's shoulder. [Y/N] sighed and leaned their head against Alastor's chest in comfort.

"I'm, debating whether or not I should tell the others what I am. About me being a Shifter." [Y/N] said. Alastor hummed.

"Well, it is ultimately your choice, my dear." Alastor said. [Y/N] nodded.

"I know that. But, what if they get mad at me for not telling them? I mean, Shifters were the only species of Hell Born that could actually kill an angel." They said. Alastor hummed.

"Well, put yourself in their shoes for a moment. Suppose that the child of the Radio Demon told you that they were a Shifter. How would you react?" Alastor asked. [Y/N] shrugged.

"I dunno. I guess I would be upset for a while, considering I thought that all the Shifters were dead. But, after they explained that they were the last Shifter and couldn't possibly defend all of Hell from the Exorcists, then I might be a little bit more understanding." [Y/N] said. Alastor nodded, and smiled gently down at his child.

"Well, there you go. They might get upset, sure. But, I'm sure coming out with the truth would be better for them, and for you." Alastor said. [Y/N] sighed and nodded.

"Maybe. Can, can I ask something of you, dad?" [Y/N] asked, looking up at their father. Alastor nodded.

"Anything, my dear." Alastor said.

"If and when I do tell them, would you be there with me? Just in case things turn south?" [Y/N] asked. Alastor smiled.

"I promise I will always be there for you, my dear." Alastor said, pressing a kiss to [Y/N]'s head. [Y/N] smiled and wrapped their arms around Alastor's waist in a hug, the Radio Demon returning it, resting his head on their own.

"Thanks dad."

~~~~~~

Charlie walked up to the Heaven Embassy, where she was going to meet the leaders of the Extermination Army. She pushed open the door.

"Hello?" Charlie called out, her voice echoed in the empty hall. She walked through and found the Embassy to be completely deserted. "Hello? Creepy." Charlie commented. Her footsteps echoed through out the hall.

Charlie came to the front desk. No one was there. The only thing there was a bell to ring. She tapped the bell. In an instant, a golden scroll and a feather pen appeared before her. "Oh, okay. Also creepy." She said and signed her name. The scroll and feather disappeared. To her right, a set of twin doors slid open, showin Charlie an empty meeting room. She cautiously walked inside.

"Uh...hello? Is anyone here?" Charlie called. Suddenly, the lights switched on, revealing two Angels. One of them was dressed in black and gray armor. The other, dressed in a white robe with gold accents. What was interesting, was that both Angels had masks with what looked like demon horns on them. The angels were Lute, the lieutenant of the Extermination Army, and Adam, the leader.

"'Sup!" Adam greeted, surprising Charlie.

"Holy, shit!" Charlie shouted, surprised by their sudden appearance. She quickly got back up and smiled. "Hi, I'm Charlie. My dad asked me if I could meet you." Charlie said. Adam nodded, seeming uninterested with what she had to say.

"Yeah, I know." He said. He had a plate of ribs sitting before him, eating them casually. Charlie chuckled awkwardly.

"Okay, well, it's nice to meet you." Charlie said, reaching her hand out. Adam smiled at her and reached his had out as well.

"Totally. It's nice to meet you, too." He said. Charlie reached for his hand, but it suddenly slipped through, scaring Charlie. It was revealed that Adam was just a hologram. Adam burst out laughing. "Ha! I fucking got you. Did you see that?" He asked, turning to Lute, who just nodded. Adam laughed again and leaned back in his seat. "Ha. Good shit." Adam said. Charlie narrowed her eyes.

"Uh...so, wait. You aren't here?" Charlie asked. Adam scoffed.

"No, you think I'd come down there?" He laughed in a condescending way. "No, I mean, I love the vibe, totally, I love your tunes. Pretty fucking hardcore, don't get me wrong. But! it's such a bummer! man. Everything down there's just so "eugh", ya know?" He chuckled again. "Ew." He shook his head. Charlie smiled awkwardly.

"Right. So, I'm happy we've got this opportunity to meet. There's a project that I've been working on that I really want to talk to you about-"

Adam put his finger to Charlie's lips, silencing her for a moment.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey, slow down. We've got time. How about we get to know each other a little, hmm? How about lunch? You hungry? I got you." Adam said. He took the plate of ribs he had been eating and handed it towards Charlie. "Here's my personal favorite. You'll love it." Adam said.

"Uh...thanks." Charlie said. She reached for it, completely forgetting that it was a hologram. Her hand went through it again, freaking Charlie out again. Adam let out a bark of laughter.

"I got you again, bitch! Fuckin' hilarious!" Adam said, laughing. Charlie chuckled, unamused. This was going to be a long meeting.

~~~~

Back at the hotel, Vaggie was walking back and forth in the lobby. [Y/N] and the others were sitting in various chairs and couches. Angel Dust was constantly looking at Husk and winking, while Husk was glaring daggers at him. Vaggie sighed.

"Okay, so, Charlie is dealing with something very important, so while she's gone, we are making a new commercial. One that represents her vision and what we're doing here. So, we need a camera." Vaggie said. She looked over at Alastor. "Alastor?" She requested. Alastor snapped his fingers and conjured up a camera for Vaggie, however, the camera was a folding-type old camera from the 1930s with no recording films at that time. Vaggie glanced at him, unamused. "A video camera?" She requested.

"Hmmm." Alastor hummed in distaste and snapped his fingers again. A modern day video camera appeared in Vaggie's hands, replacing the older looking model. Vaggie smiled. "Alright! Let's do this!" She said excitedly. [Y/N] was watching behind Vaggie as she was recording Husk and Angel at the bar.

"And, action!" [Y/N] called. Husk was looking down at the script he had, reading right from it with the script in his face.

"Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel. Can I help with anything?" Husk read, looking up at Angel, who was sitting at one of the stools. Angel smiled and winked at Husk.

"I've been a bad boy, and I need a big, strong daddy to put me in my place…on the path to redemption!" Angel said. Husk groaned in distaste. [Y/N] cringed lightly at the scene. Husk looked down at the script again.

"Well, you come..." He was interrupted by Angel moaning.

"Oh yes!" He cried out.

"To the right place." Husk finished, not looking amused. [Y/N] sighed and pinched the bridge of their nose.

"Cut! Okay, Angel, we need you to be less horny if possible, and Husk, can you maybe not have a script in front of your face." [Y/N] requested. Husk looked over at [Y/N] angrily.

"I ain't no actor! I can't memorize this shit!" He shouted, smacking the script. Angel leaned over the bar, smiling seductively.

"Well, we could improv this shit, baby cakes," he got closer to Husk and purred seductively. "Rrawwr."

Husk growled and shoved Angel off the counter, making the porn star fall onto the floor. Husk shrugged.

"Whoops." He said, and grabbed a bottle of alcohol and began drinking from it. Vaggie sighed.  

"Husk, come on." She demanded.

~~~~~

Back with Charlie, she was being bored to death by what Adam was telling her about his weekend.

"So, I was playin' this gig, and for some fuckin' reason, this virtue chick was diggin' on the drummer, and it's like, "do you know who I am? I'm fuckin' Adam. I'm the original dick!" He complained, pointing to his nether regions. "All dicks descend from me. You think you want drummer dick?" He asked, looking to Lute, who shook her head. Adam nodded. "No way! I'm the Dick-fuckin' master!" He shouted. He then ate a rib, speaking with his mouth full. "So, anyway, then we fucked, and it was awesome. What'd you do this weekend?" He asked, looking at Charlie. Charlie sat up straight in surprise.

"Wait, your name is Adam? Like the first man Adam, that means you…Oh…." Charlie put two and two together, realizing just why her mother had left Adam in the first place. "That explains so much." She said, wincing. Adam smirked.

"I know. I fucking rock." He held up his hand in a rock pose. Charlie cleared her throat and got back to the matter at hand.

"Well, Adam, sir. Mr. Adam, sir." Charlie said awkwardly. Adam smirked.

"Call me, Dickmaster." Adam said. Charlie gave him a deadpan look.

"Adam. You seem like a smart, well, stand up guy!" Charlie said, trying to appeal to his ego. Adam picked at his teeth, clearly uninterested.

"Uh-huh." He said.

"And I know you are the leader of the angels. And you are a big thinker, a revolutionary. You and your Executioners killed an entire race of Shifters! You're, well, a, a genius!" She said. Though she hated talking about how he killed the only beings that could protect her people, she had to get him on her side. Adam scoffed.

"I mean, your words, babe." Adam said, smiling. Charlie smiled.

"Who would really love to put his name on something." Charlie said. Adam sat up, a big smile on his face.

"Fucking love putting my name on shit! Shit's the best!" He shouted. Charlie smiled.

"It's a solution to our biggest problem!" She said, thinking that she was finally getting somewhere with him. Adam's eyes widened.

"Oh, Herpes. Yeah, that's a bitch." He said. Charlie groaned lightly.

"No! Our... other biggest problem." She said. At this point, Adam was just messing with her.

"Oh…uh..ugly people? Math? Global Warming? Nah, wait, that's Earth's problem." Adam said, listing off all the "problems" that they shared in common. Charlie stared at him, unamused.

~~~~

//I'm going to go ahead and skip a few scenes cause I feel like this is getting really long.//

"When you take her out for the fifth time and she still expects you to pay the check but you're like, Hey, I thought you wanted equality." Adam complained. Charlie groaned, getting fed up with Adam and his ego.

"NO! our shared problem of overpopulation in Hell!" Charlie shouted. Adam's eyes widened in realization.

"Ohh, well that's not a problem! We got that covered!" Adam said. He turned to Lute. "Lute, how many demons did you kill this year?" He asked.

"Got a good 275 this year, sir." Lute said, talking as if it was some ground breaking record. Adam's eye brows rose.

"275? Woah! Badass! Awesome job, danger tits! Pound it." Adam raised his fist for Lute, who gave him a fist bump. Charlie frowned.

"Uh no, not awesome. Those are my people, you know that right?" Charlie asked. Adam looked at her and nodded.

"Oh yeah. That must suck for you!" Adam shouted, bursting into laughter. Charlie frowned. She didn't understand how Adam and Lute could care so little about the souls in Hell.

"But these are souls...Humans souls just the same as the ones you have up in heaven." She said. Lute frowned at Charlie.

"They're not the same. They had their chance and they earned damnation." Lute said coldly. Charlie shook her head.

"You're wrong. Sinners made mistakes, sure, but everyone makes mistakes." Charlie said. Lute narrowed her eyes at Charlie.

"Angels don't make mistakes." She said. Charlie rose her eyebrow in challenge.

"You really think that."

"I know that." Lute said. Adam smirked and nodded.

"Yeah, I've never made a mistake in my fuckin' life." Adam said. He chuckled. "If anything, you should be thanking us." He said. Charlie frowned.

"Thanking you?" She asked. Adam nodded.

"Uh, fuck yeah! We got rid of the very beings that were allowing the over population in Hell to begin with!" He said, referring to the Shifters. Lute walked around the table towards Charlie.

"The only reason you're still here is because daddy gave you and your hell born kind a pardon from an exorcist blade. How does that feel, to know how little you matter?" Lute asked. Charlie looked down, frowning in sadness. Adam perked up.

"Oops, almost out of time. Guess we should get into it." He said. Charlie's eyes widened.

"Oh fuck!" She shouted. She rushed to present her plan as fast as she could. "Okay I've got a lot to get through and not a lot of time and I feel like you weren't hearing me before so here it goes." She cleared her throat and started talking at a fast speed to get through everything. Which eventually turned into singing.

"I know Hell's population is out of control.

It's a bad situation.

It's taking a toll."

"If we rehab these Sinners.

And cleanse all their souls.

At my Hazbin Hotel,"

"Wait, I'm getting ahead of myself!" She shouted. She quickly picked up a drawing of the Extermination Angels flying down to Hell.

"Right, Extermination." She said.

"I know you guys fly down.

Just to kill once a year."

"And it must be annoying.

To schlep all the way here."

"If they join you in Heaven.

"That trip disappears!

You can wave that chore farewell." She took a deep breath.

"It'll be a happy day in..."

She was cut off by Adam.

"Let me stop you right there." Adam began singing. Charlie stopped.

"Oh."

"Save us all precious time."

"Okay..." Charlie hesitated.

"If what you're suggesting.

Is letting them climb.

Up the ladder.

Oh, they'd rather cross the Pearly Gates?"

"Well, uh—" Charlie started, but was stopped by Adam.

"Sorry, sweetie. But there's no defyin' their fates!"

"'Cause Hell is forever.

Whether you like it or not.

Had their chance to behave better.

Now they boil in the pot.

'Cause the rules are black and white.

There's no use in tryin' to fight it. ♫

They're burnin' for their lives.

Until we kill 'em again!"

"Okay, but.."

Adam smiled down at Charlie.

"Just try to chillax, babe.

You're wasting your breath."

Charlie chuckled awakwardly.

"Did I hear you imply.

That they don't deserve death?"

"Are they Winners?

Are they Sinners?

Without the Shifters

It's cut and dry."

"Well, actually, if you take a look..."

"Fair is fair, an eye for an eye, yeah!"

"And when all's said and done,

There's the question of fun.

And for those of us with Divine Ordainment.

Extermination is entertainment!"

"Bow-now-now-nownow

Guitar solo, fuck yeah!"

"Oh, da-ah-ah now-now-n-now-n-now-n-now-n-nownownow!"

 "Hell is forever.

Whether you like it or not."

"Had their chance to behave better.

Now they boil in the pot."

"'Cause the rules are black and white.

There's no use in tryin' to fight it.

They're burnin' for their lives.

Until we kill 'em again!"

"Fuckin' Hell's forever.

And it's meant to suck a lot.

So give up your dumb endeavor.

'Cause you don't have a shot!"

Charlie growled in anger. Her demon form coming out as she burned some of the papers she was holding.

"Long as I've got your attention.

I guess I should probably mention.

That we made the determination.

To move up the next Extermination!"

Charlie's demon form faded away as her eyes widened in horror.

"What?!" She shouted.

"Can't wait a whole year.

To slaughter those little cunts.

I know it's just been a week.

But we'll be back in six months!" Despite being a hologram, Adam grabbed Charlie by the wrist and threw her out the door. Charlie tried to rush back to the door.

"Um, wait, you-you..ugh SHIT!" She shouted, slamming her fist onto the door.

~~~~

//Whew! This is a LONG one. I apologize for that. Let me know if you like it being long, or if I should cut it down.//

[chaosmultiverse]

@deathxcko Two 'edgy' foils to yj members walk into a bar & the mun reuses a joke from a different ask thingy-

Inertia almost looked offended by how much Red Hood was missing the point, he wanted to grab the point from over his head and smash it down on him so he'd acknowledge it.

"Okay I mean yes but- You know what I was asking! Don't pretend you don't, I have done some research on you and it suggests that at least in the past you weren't a idiot."

[bullet-prooflove]

The Crab Dance Prompt List

Please check the updated character list on my pinned post to see who I am writing for before submitting a prompt!

Also read the rules and do not forget to put the entire prompt into your ask!

I saw you downtown kissing another man

But we don't say forever, but when we're together

I fell in love with I looked over and saw her singing to the radio

And all them other boys say she's a goodbye girl

Honey, dance with me in this bar tonight

I’m the boy that’s always been in love with you til the end

Don’t mind the strain of a hurricane, they come around every June

You were hitchhiking on an old dirt road

Nobody taught her it takes a lot of water to wash away New Orleans

It 3am Im overthinking again

Why do I still give a damn about you

Yeah, I ain't tryna fix her I just wanna kiss her

Sitting on the front porch with a cigarette burning

Baby you look hotter than west Texas sunshine

She never wanted to be white picket fenced in

Looking out through my window Watching the snowflakes fall

Remember all the nights we had?

But here she is, free, layin' next to me 'Cause I ain't tryna to tame her love

I'm terrified of being alone, so I've been seeking out affection

You once called me forever, now you still can't call me back

Staring out at the sunset With you by my side

There's moments in life that I regret Like never holding you close

And I'll dream each night of some version of you That I might not have, but I did not lose

You promised me I was more than all the miles combined

Wake up again in an old motel

One day you wake up, he’s packing up his truck

Why can’t I move on  and give a fair chance to someone new.

And leave before the mornin' sun

And I'm missing you like hell

He stays for the night but hes gone by the morning

Go on tell me what you really feel, because I’ve been dying to know.

And I know you have gone with her and I can't go back home

She ain't living for a diamond ring

I keep the windows down and the wind in her hair

So I thought that if I piled something good on all my bad That I could cancel out the darkness I inherited from dad

We're burnin' it down Blazin' up a trail of smoke

Why can’t I find a way to forget being in love with you

I said "I love you" but I, I never even meant it,

No, I am no longer funny, 'cause I miss the way you laugh

Wherever we are, wherever we go Yeah, that's where she calls home

Just looking for somebody as wild as her

It’s clear that we were meant to be.

It's getting cold but that sun is cresting

And I recall what she said That she wanted me dead But there ain't no grave deep enough

You don’t want to know what he said about you

My other half was you I hope this pain's just passin' through

And I know your daddy wants to shoot me dead

And it's half my fault, but I just like to play the victim

Should've left me at the door, but you let me in And now, your heart is on the floor

I put up a fight because I can’t stand the sight of his hands touching you

Too many different women in my phone

You aint opposed to digging up old bones and raking over the pas

Now I am stuck between my anger and the blame that I can't facet.

I'm sorry, baby, I'm a liar How is it possible to love someone else if I can't even love myself?

It’s a little piece of heaven when we lay down at night

She keeps on loving me and I keep on wondering why.

Love letters written in the dead of night

You must have had yourself a change of heart like Halfway through the drive

But I took her heart, and then I ripped it in half This ain't the first time I've done this neither

[atarathegreat]

Shota Aizawa- He's Gone

Sleep had been elusive the last month, and as a pro hero I couldn't afford to be even the slightest bit tired. Fatigue meant that I wasn't on top of my game and could be taken down. Easily.

Yet, still I sat in my living room at two in the morning, halfway through my third book. It was a hardback a friend had given me years ago, I'd probably read it a thousand times at that point. It kept me enthralled every time I picked it up, as any good book would.

"You can't sleep either?" Aizawa stepped through my window, his dark hair falling over his eyes, "Reading some more? Do you ever put the books down?"

I waved the book sarcastically in his direction, "Just staring at the cover, actually. I love the flat green and the singular flower."

He chuckled, sitting in front of my chair so he could put his head in my lap. I let my fingers tug at his hair while I read, using his head to hold the book while I turned pages. I enjoyed his company on those late nights where boredom was likely to kill you faster than villains.

For the last couple years we'd climbed through each other's windows if we couldn't sleep, more him than me. Neighbors had become nosy about him coming in through the front door and I was tired of them asking about my love life. Aizawa didn't seem to mind going through the window, though he also didn't mind the front door, as long as he was able to come in and see me.

Aizawa moved to readjust and wedged his hands between my back and the chair, tugging himself closer to my stomach. I began to tell him about the book, bored of the silence. He listened as I spoke, humming when I asked an open ended question. Normally I asked before telling him about the books, but he seemed tired and I kinda hoped that my droning on would put him to sleep.

"Can I ask you a question, Y/n?" His dark eyes searching deep in mine, "Why do we continue to act like this and not move forward?"

I knew what he meant, but I didn't want to have this conversation yet again, "I already told you, we can share my bed. We don't have to sleep out here."

He rolled his eyes, "We love each other, at least I hope we do. Why don't we do anything about it? We get so close to each other and yet we stay so far away."

"Does he still have such a grip on you?" Aizawa moved so our noses were nearly touching and his breath fanned over my face, "It's been over twenty years, Y/n."

I slammed the book down on the end table as I stood, shoving Aizawa to the side. He followed me, telling me it had been years, that Oboro was dead and I was allowed to move on. My body tensed with each and every word he said.

"I know!" My quirk cracked the kitchen countertops as soon as I touched them, "I know I can move on, Shota, but how am I supposed to let go of the guilt?"

"How am I supposed to! I was there! I could've saved him but I didn't, Y/n!" Aizawa shouted, making me flinch away from the volume and anger, "You and him would probably be happy right now if I had just moved a little faster!"

My heart sunk at his words, "So you love me out of guilt? You think I'd be happy with Oboro if he wasn't dead, so you love me through that guilt?"

In mere seconds my head was shoved into his chest, his hand holding me firmly, "Not out of guilt, never. I love you because your amazing."

The hug was crushing the oxygen out of my lungs, but somehow I still found the air to cry. Aizawa released the back of my head to hold around my back, his own silent cries making him sniffle. My hands tightened around the fabric of his shirt, my breathes coming out in huge gasps.

Of course I loved Aizawa, he was there when no one else was. Oboro being dead changed none of that. It had never changed anything for me, not my love nor my sadness.

But me being with Oboro when he died was what was holding me back. Twenty years had come and gone, Oboro was forever a teenager and I was in my thirties. The relationship I'd once had was long gone, and I was pushing away the only one I wanted.

The realization calmed my crying, but I still couldn't talk. I loved Shota, I needed him and I was the reason I didn't have him. I gripped tighter to Shota and stared into the dimly lit living room, the book shining from under the lamp.

Oboro was gone, resting peacefully, and I was holding onto the old memories of me and him. I had kept myself in that state of mind just so I didn't have to let go of him.

I pulled away and kissed Aizawa's cheek, letting my cries settle before I spoke, "Let's do it. Me and you. A couple."

Before going to bed that night I grabbed the book Oboro had gifted me years ago. A good story can keep you hooked no matter how many times you read it, and Oboro always knew how to pick the perfect ones. I rested it in its spot on my shelf, running my finger down the spine. My final silent goodbye.

Aizawa stood beside me, looking at the book as he said his own goodbye. We were great friends with Oboro and saying goodbye was the hardest thing we'd ever done. Knowing it was the final goodbye did not make it easier, for me it almost seemed more painful. Was it harder for Shota as well?

"Y'know, he'd probably kick our asses if he knew we were still mourning him." Shota chuckled, his arm finding its place around my back.

I nodded, wiping at some stray tears, "He'd definitely kick our asses for not sleeping. Come on, the sun is rising and it's my only day off."

[bad-at-living]

warning! definitely accidentally a vent! none of this really makes any sense cause i was crying. accidental vague references to sh

sometimes I get things stuck in my head like you get songs stuck in your head except they aren't songs. right now i have this fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59087686/chapters/151188253 on ao3 stuck in my head. its called "the view from halfway down" (minus the quotation marks). its very sad but i can't stop thinking about it so i have to read it agin to get it un-stuck. wish me luck. update from after i finished re-reading it under the line (may contain spoilers, i don't know yet). i don't really want to cry right now but i have to read this, its out of my control. after all i am always the root of my own suffering.

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

somehow the first chapter of this fic hurts more after you know what happens in the second. all these things he says end up falling through or getting fulfilled. i think the fact that someone cared in the end hurts more. it builds onto my whole "i can't hurt myself because if i do someone who cares about me will suffer and it will be all my fault and i will be the bad guy" it should be relieving to know somebody would cry over you but instead it just feels like a weight that makes me feel more. not necessarily feel worse or feel better but just feel. but feeling anything right now is worse than feeling nothing. i desperately want to be missed but i don't want people to feel bad either which is impossible because missing someone is a negative feeling. i just don't get why the idea that someone could miss me makes me feel terrible despite the fact that my biggest fear is being forgotten/alone forever. maybe its the idea that it could/will get to a point where its so bad that the idea that people love me isn't enough to keep me tethered to the living realm. i think what really hurts is that i know at least someone would cry over me in some capacity similar to him but it wouldn't be the same. i need to know someone would do that for me before i go but i worry having someone like that and knowing they would cry over me would make me stay. i don't want that. i don't understand myself. the one person i would stay for if they called never liked me in the first place and it was all a sick joke to them. the one person i want never really existed the way i remember them. it hurts because i relate to both of them even though mine isn't actually dead. but it really feels like it. i did lose a whole person that day. what hurts even more its that these fuckers could have been something but we couldn't have, after all you can't get married to a string of text messages. but only because they were written by somebody who was nothing and everything like that. i don't get to text the person i lost like he does because they one: aren't dead, two: never truly existed at all. it hurts because no one is ever going to text back and you know it. being an atheist sucks when you don't get to have any sort of hope about what's after death. one discrepancy is that he doesn't text his every day, he doesn't text him like he forgot about him being dead. "how could you forget someone being dead!" when you wish they were alive so bad your brain decides to forget they're dead as a coping mechanism. he should be sad he doesn't get a response but not because the other guys dead but because he's so deep into dissociating and denying that he thinks the others simply just ignoring him and now hates him. if i lost someone like that i would text them every day without fail i would just have to. the hurt comes from the fact that my pain is considered less because no one actually died but maybe a little bit of me did inside. i was too busy being angry at the real you to mourn the you i knew to grieve correctly so now I'm just stuck in a mix of all seven stages at the exact same time. for ever. my stomach really hurts right now. maybe its trying to distract me from my brain. it isn't working cause now i just hurt even more. nobody else will ever grieve you with me because nobody else knew you. and now the sobbing im doing hurts because of the ribs i bruised trying to stop myself from sobbing over something else. and now i have heart burn. I'm tired of suffering but i don't think i could do anything to make it stop long term that wouldn't cause even more suffering short term.

everything hurts.

for hopefully some context to this madness its referring to a time someone put their number in my locker and catfished me for over a month over text, knew things about me i had only told my friends (like my favorite music artist), sent me memes i literally had saved on my phone (either they were a friend i had sent them to or they actually just had a similar sense of humor to me and still did this terrible thing which hurts cause like how would someone so oddly similar to me do such a terrible thing). eventually i found out they were cat fishing me and they told me that i was crazy for thinking anyone could ever love me and that i was unlovable. so it feels like someone i knew died because they simply ceased to exist in my world.

[spicy-outer-space]

I've been convinced

Angst writing that I did for the discord. Am unreasonably proud of it

Tw for heavy angst , blood, and death (and probably other things too but I'm not sure)

‎

Characters:

- Starry belongs to @'buc-eebarnes

- Zara belongs to @'tippytanpies

- Thea belongs to @'seraph-draws-stuff

- David is mine

- Mark is (technically) from AHWM, except I think he's very ooc here whoops

Mark couldn't sit still. They were already arriving to some old abandoned house, but it was taking too long, and he couldn't stop thinking about Starry who was passed out, bleeding, in the back seat. He didn't dare look for the fear of accidentally locking eyes with Thea or David. (Starry'll be fine, she's strong, it's fine)

‎

He hopped out of the car before it even fully stopped, tripping on his way and recieving a concerned squeak from Zara. He opened the back door, got Starry out of the car and started walking towards the house (Zara quick to follow him) before the sound of the engine had the chance to die down. He tried to ignore how limp and cold and small Starry felt in his arms. (They're still breathing. It's fine. Everything is ok. It's gonna be fine)

‎

He was halfway to the house when he realised something was wrong. Behind Zara's constant stream of quiet apologies and how loud his own thoughts were, he didn't notice it sooner.

‎

There were only two sets of footsteps crunching on the gravel: his and Zara's.

‎

This realisation caused him to stop in his tracks, earning another startled squeak from Zara as they almost crashed into his back.

‎

Why haven't Thea and David gotten out of the car yet.

Something was wrong

‎

Despite his brain yelling at him about Starry, Mark turned around and started taking long strides back towards the car. Thea. He can't lose two of his friends in one day. He won't. He refuses to

‎

He could see from afar how David lifted its head at the sound of footsteps getting closer. Mark tried to keep his voice level when he started speaking

‎

"Get out of the car."

‎

No answer

‎

"David, wake up Thea and get out of the car."

‎

Mark could see how much effort it took for David to shake his head.

‎

"I can't do that. I'm sorry, Mark," his voice is quiet, but Mark still felt his world get knocked out from under him

‎

This isn't really happening. It can't be happening. It must be joking

‎

Mark reached forward, opening the car door and somehow not dropping Starry in the process (some part of his brain was screaming that her pulse got weaker. He hoped he was wrong)

‎

"David. David ge--" he had to stop and swallow hard before continuing with a shaky voice, "get out of the car. Both of you. Ple- Please"

‎

David was smiling, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. It shakes its head. His voice is barely above a whisper now

‎

"It's too late for us, Mark. You know that. Go save Starry, they still have a chance" David weakly flaps his hand. Mark is pretty sure it was trying to wave him off.

‎

Mark's brain chimes back in at that point, agreeing with David (Starry's breathing was definitely more uneven now, he can't afford to waste any more time-), but his body refused to move.

‎

"Thea?"

‎

The pause drags on forever. He already knows that it's no use, but that doesn't stop him from hoping

‎

This is taking too long

‎

Just as Mark turned and started walking away he heard David speak up "...hey, I think... I think you should go to Stan's after this. It's safe there. He'll look after you."

‎

Mark stopped walking, but he didn't dare turn back around. (The adrenaline was wearing off and he was already tearing up, turning back to face his friends? One of whom is already dead and one who's actively dying? He would have broken down right there and then)

‎

"Just.... Tell him I'm sorry, could you? You don't have to stay with him, but, please-"

‎

"Sure"

‎

And with that, Mark started speeding towards the house, where Zara was already nervously standing in the doorway, twisting their arms in uncertainty of what to do next. He shouldn't dwell. Life is for the living, after all.

‎

‎

‎

.

.

.

A good while after the sound of footsteps disappeared into the house, David tilted its head and pressed a kiss to Thea's forehead, before resting his head on top of hers

His voice was barely there now, a sound that could easily be mistaken for the rustle of the wind, or maybe a calm exhale.

.

.

.

"See you soon, sis"