#25 days of angst

[messenger-of-babel]

Just Like Him

Summary: When you argue with Jason, you slowly start seeing less of Jason Todd and more of Bruce Wayne. (Jason Todd x reader)

Word Count: 1.9K

Notes: I legit came back home from a night out and sat here editing this till 3am cause I refused to miss a post haha. A little bit shorter due to that and I'll do a second look over it later. Only warning for this is mentions of violence as usual for most of these, and that it hasn't been as edited cleanly as usual. Tomorrow's post might be really delayed too since I've got events tomorrow too. Anyways, enjoy my Lovelies~! xx

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You had loved Jason. You did love Jason.

You loved the boy who was too awkward to hold your hand when you went out in public, who left you notes at your door when he was too frustrated and too pent up to explain himself properly. You loved his habits, his quirks, the way that he cooked you food if he knew he was going to be out for a few days, silently leaving it in the fridge in the hopes you’d keep yourself healthy.

You also loved the dark sides of him, the nightmares he woke up to, skin sticky with sweat. You loved him even when his eyes were lost in the darkness, unable to tell who you were exactly but still seeking the comfort of your arms to shield him. You loved him even when he tensed outside in public, a sound, a smell, setting him off and making him clench onto your hand. His eyes were scared, but you didn’t mind bringing him back into reality, letting him know that you were here for him. 

Yet on nights like these, you love for him faltered slightly. These were the nights that you couldn’t temper, the ones here he burned angrily and bit hard. He was currently pacing the kitchen, hands in his hair after a rough patrol. 

“You just don’t understand.” He murmured over and over. “Maybe you just don’t get it. Maybe you just never will. How could you even try to?” 

That hurt you, the way he talked like you weren’t even there. Like you weren’t in tears on the other side of the kitchen island. Like you hadn’t been having this argument for an hour how, sunset drinking its way into the dusk. 

This was the part of Jason that hurt you, the coarse side that snarled and growled at you like he was an injured dog. The side that looked at you with those striking green eyes narrowed into slits, who spat words like he’d never seen you before.

“I do understand Jason.” I you sigh. “You want to protect this city, you want to change Gotham, but don’t you dare tell me what I know or don’t, when I’m asking you to just be home more. Is it really that hard to protect the city and go out for a date?” You sigh, heart beginning to falter under the scrutiny of his gaze. “I know you can’t always be there. Neither can I, but please,” you say, folding your arms across your chest. “Please be there for me.”

“I am.” He groans back out, making a flicker of irritation spark in you. 

“Not you’re not.” You counter. “You leave dates, you leave dinners, you don’t come home some nights. No warning, no text, no notice.” You snap back.  “Being there for me is being at those dinners, going on those dates, coming home, spending time in bed with me.” You snap. "it's not cold sheets, cold food, cold feet on date nights. Step up."

He throws his hands up in the air, teeth clenched. "Can't you see I'm trying to save the city? trying to stop it from eating itself from the inside? You know its corrupted, you know about the violence. Hell, you got shot." he snaps back. His fists are tightly clenched by his side, eyes burning into yours. You stare back at him defiantly, and it makes the frustration in him rise.

He knows he's not good at words, knows that he's rough around the edges. The voice in his head tells him that when he sits up at night, when he finally comes home. His head leans back against the headboard whole you sleep peacefully beside him, rolled completely onto your side. His fingers twist in the sheets, as it speaks at him, tells him that he's not good enough to be with you. That the city isn't safe enough, that he needs to make it safer. He wasn’t the safest out of Batman's gang of protegees. He had a hit list that had started while he was just a young teenager and continued to have names added every other week. He'd been shot at, stabbed, thrown into and off of buildings, and that was something he was fine with. that was his job, his burden.

But when you got shot, that's when life really had caught up with him. It was like he had been living his life in slow motion up until that point, until it all rushed forward like a wave on double speed. He hadn't erven been there, halfway across town with Nightwing on some stakeout when he got the call. Dick had let him go without a word, merely watching him speed away on his bike before calling in backup from the cave to replace him. He didn't care that Bruce would get mad at him for abandoning his post, he could go to hell. What he cared about was you, and the fact that he hadn't been able to protect you, been able to stop it from happening. He heard about it only when the hospital called him, informing him that you were being prepped for surgery immediately.

How bad was it? Was it just one shot? Did it go cleanly through? Where were you hit? What calibre? What make? What model? Where did it take place?

Those were all questions that Red Hood might have been allowed to ask if he had worn the mask and marched through the emergency department, but he couldn’t do that. If he did it would be a giant target on your back, associating you with his vigilante life in the most obvious way possible. Instead, he had to race through the doors breathless as Jason Todd, the worried boyfriend who had to be held back by security trying to get to your ward.

 You had of course recovered, learnt to walk again on the leg that caught a stray bullet from a gang shoot out in Lower Gotham. It had been worryingly close to your artery, but you had pulled through. Jason couldn’t deny the fact that his status as a Wayne kid helped your care and the way the hospital aided your recovery. With a harsh word, Jason could have any of their licenses revoked.

That's why Jason did it. To make sure that the fear that gripped his heart that night never had the chance to wrangle him like that again. He'd fight night after night and come home with a string of broken and bloodied knuckles if it meant that you would be okay. It's all he can think about as he stares you down in the kitchen, watching your jaw twitch.

"Don't you dare use the fact that I got shot, against me." you seethe, hand coming up to point at him. "That wasn’t my fault, and it could have happened to anyone in the town, it's Gotham, Jason." you bite back, and he throws his hands up.

"That's exactly the problem! It's Gotham." he shouts. "You can get shot, or stabbed, or killed. Anyone can. one day you're here, the next you ain't. You really want to go out there, sweetheart? You got shot and you want to tell me not to clean the streets up? The sheets are cold? Well, they'd be a lot colder if you were dead." he spits back, and you are too stunned to say anything. You shake your head, a look of realisation coming over you.

"Oh my god," you breathe out. "you're just like Bruce. You’re no better."

That makes something in his freeze, halting all of his movements and shutting down his train of thought. You see it, see the way his bright green eyes widen and his head tilts slightly, making the white tuft in his hair flop over his eyes as you continue. "You're so obsessed with cleaning up the city. So obsessed with fighting out there that you can't give it up even for a second. You both can't. You criticize the man, tore him apart for his neglect just to do the exact same god damn thing.” Tears begin to prick your eyes in helplessness, lump building in your throat.

"You can’t see yourself out of that stupid helmet." you say, choking up as the tears clog your vision. "When was the last time that you read?" you ask, sniffling. "When was the last time you did a hobby, or rode your bike as a civilian? When's the last time we went on a date or held hands, or went to the park, or the library or anywhere?" you yell at him, hand coming to claw at your heart.

"When was the last time you were Jason?" you whisper softly. "Because right now, I feel like Jason Todd has died for a second time." you choke out. "Except this time, it wasn’t Joker who killed him."

You wipe your eyes with your sleeve while you leave him stunned, pushing past him to go into your bedroom. When the door slams harshly it snaps him out of the stupor he had found himself in, body swivelling on his heel immediately to follow you.

 You didn't respond to his soft knocking at the door, or his calls. You didn’t accept the apologies he murmured into the wood, didn't bother to listen to his promises or ways that he swore he could make it better. It was only when he began knocking desperately, worrying building, that you swung it open violently.

Your face is a mess, sticky with tears and chin wet. Your breath comes out in small hiccups as you try to collect yourself, still mid sob as you shout at him. "Couch." you seethe, your puffy eyes glaring at him with a hurt filled dagger before the door slammed in his face. He sighed, forehead against the wood before pushing off the door frame with a click of his tongue. He plops down onto the living room couch with a groan, legs thrown over the side to try and accommodate for his size. He raises an arm to cover his eyes, other arm grabbing a couch cushion and bringing it to his chest.

"You're just like Bruce, no better." rattled around in his skull, making him chew at his lip. He didn’t like that. He didn’t like being compared to Bruce, even if he respected the man at times. He had come back, intending to be everything for others that Bruce had failed to be for him. Yet according to you, he was walking the same steps the man before him had traced.

Was he really no better than Bruce?

He groans and removes his arm from his eyes. He casts them over to the turned off TV, catching the sight of a much younger Robin peering back at him. With a smile the boy took off the domino mask and revealed the childish figure that was young Jason Todd. He raises a hand to his face as well, mirroring what he had just seen the reflection do. Except when he pulled his hand away, studying the digits instead of the TV screen, he could still see the remnants of the Hood he failed to leave at the door.

[kingofbodyrolls]

Christmas at Lissa’s 🎁

🎄✨ I’m back, my wonderful friends! And what better way to celebrate the season of giving than to share an early gift with you—or rather, a shimmering glimpse of your Christmas surprise, lovingly wrapped from me to you. 🎁✨

The air is crisp with holiday magic, and you know how much I cherish spreading joy, warmth, and cheer. So, as the twinkle of inspiration found its way back into my heart, I knew I had to craft something special—something that whispers the enchantment of the Christmas stories I’ve cherished for years. This year, I’m delighted to present my own little Christmas event, a celebration of tales both familiar and new.

Within this holiday collection, you’ll find a mix of cozy extras from beloved stories and fresh adventures that glitter with festive wonder. And for even more holiday delight, I’m also hosting a Christmas Rec Event (Lissa’s 25 Days of Christmas) + (Bangtan Christmas), brimming with treasures to share.

So come along, dear friends, and let’s make this holiday season unforgettable. Together, we’ll unwrap the magic of stories, sharing laughter, love, and joy with every page. 💜✨ 

Let’s read, dream, and sprinkle the world with holiday cheer!

Since today is my birthday, I wanted to give you this little present, even though I still need to finish writing the last story (but it’s like ¼ done 🤭). edit: this was posted on November 10th (on my birthday).

🎄Doughn’t Go Baking My Heart // Seokjin // enemies to lovers + romance // 16.5k 🎁 This Christmas season, you’re back in the kitchen, whisk in hand and determination in your heart, entering the annual holiday baking competition once again. The goal? Finally beat your long-time rival, the infuriatingly talented Kim Seokjin. But as the ovens warm and the ingredients come together, you realize it might not be just the doughs rising this year… Will the holiday spirit bring you closer, or will the heat of competition drive you further apart? 😜 🎁 Peek at the gift [teaser] 🎁 Peek at the spoiler [JINtastic subreddit] 🎁 Release date: 4th of December 2024 [link]

🎄 Perfect Strangers // Hoseok // fake dating + romance // 19.7k 🎁 When a man as warm as a crackling hearth steps into your cozy bookstore seeking the perfect gift for his friend’s Christmas party, you can’t help but offer him your brightest smile. But when he returns days later, with a spark in his eye and a bold request—to be his pretend girlfriend for this very party—you think, Why not? After all, Christmas is a time for a little magic, a little whimsy. Yet as you step deeper into his world, you discover a heart weighed down by scars from the past, a man more complex than the merry mask he wears. Still, what’s Christmas without a little hope, a touch of wonder, and a heart ready to spread the joy it knows so well? 🎁 Peek at the gift [teaser] 🎁 Peek at the spoiler [text messages between Namjoon and MC] 🎁 Release date: 9th of December 2024 [link]

🎄Coming Home to You // Jimin // thriller + comfort // 11.7k 🎁 It’s been five years since Hyun was arrested, and you’ve done a lot of healing to get where you are in life; married, finally opening your very own yoga studio. But when the shadows come crawling back, and old memories resurface, will Christmas be ruined? 🎁 Peek at the gift [teaser] 🎁 Peek at the spoiler [MC’s text messages to Jimin] 🎁 Release date: 13th of December 2024 [link]

🎄Sprouting Love // Namjoon // fluffy + romance // 13.7k 🎁 As snowflakes dance in the crisp winter air, you and Namjoon find yourselves wrapped in the warmth of each other’s company. The holiday season brings the aroma of freshly baked cookies, the magic of twinkling lights strung through the house, and laughter echoing in your greenhouse where you tend to flourishing plants, lovingly nurtured together. Amid the glow of Christmas cheer and shared moments filled with wonder, perhaps this season will sprinkle a touch of courage and clarity to finally define the blossoming connection between you. Will the magic of Christmas help turn what’s unspoken into something beautifully real? 🎁 Peek at the gift [teaser] 🎁 Peek at the spoiler [text between Jungkook and MC] 🎁 Release date: 17th of December 2024 [link]

🎄Stuck in a Cave // Jimin // enemies to lovers + romance // 9k 🎁 Trapped in a snowbound cave over the Christmas holidays with your long-time rival, Park Jimin, you're forced to face the simmering feelings you've both been burying beneath layers of denial. As the cold closes in, unspoken desires begin to thaw, setting your hearts ablaze in a season meant for warmth and wonder. 🎁 Peek at the gift [teaser] 🎁 Peek at the spoiler [group chat texts] 🎁 Release date: 24th of December 2024 [link]

If you wish to be tagged for one (or more) of these stories, please just leave me a comment here, or on the specific story’s teaser and let me know. Then I’ll add you! 💝

[devildomwriter]

One Little Thing, A Ring Part V | Mammon x Reader

1.2K Words | GN! Reader | CW: Slight angst

Mammon blushed as you held him in your arms. He wiped the dried tears from his cheeks and tried to straighten his hair. You both sat in silence until Mammon couldn’t bear it and lied, “nothin’s wrong.”

You glared at him and he shifted awkwardly and looked up at the hanging Christmas lights instead. You followed his gaze and came to a partially true conclusion.

“Oh, is it holiday stress?”

Mammon decided this was technically the truth and he crossed his arms and nodded still blushing. Embarrassed he’d cried in his sleep. What was there to cry about…this was everything he wanted. But was he what you wanted? He had to be right?

You could tell Mammon’s mind was swirling with anxious thoughts and hugged his side. His breath hitched in his throat and he leaned his head on yours.

“Let me know when you’re ready to talk about it…” you whispered and he nodded.

It was quiet again and as soon as you turned the lights back off Mammon blurted out the question he’d been dying to ask. “Why do you love me?”

Your eyes shot open and you stared at him in amazement. “What!?” You gasped and he flinched in shock. He hadn’t expected that big of a reaction.

“What do you mean? Don’t I always tell you, all the time?” You asked, concerned your absence with work was taking a toll on him—he was always pretty sensitive, and as hard as he tried not to, he wore his heart on his sleeve. It broke your heart to see his conflicted expression and you began to panic.

Why was he thinking these things now of all times? You hoped this wouldn’t ruin everything and bit your lip anxiously.

Mammon was quick to assure you that you’d done nothing wrong. He quickly got out of bed and started pacing the floor, trying to get rid of his excess nerves.

“Like…I mean…I ain’t rich…like I’m tryin’ but…” he sighed and finally let it all loose. “Why’d you choose me? Im happy ya did obviously but like, I’m not a prince like Diavolo, I’m not a trillionaire or whatever he is like Mephistopheles. I don’t control time, I’m not the strongest brother, I don’t summon a giant ass fish-snake-thing, I can’t charm entire crowds, I’m not a famous author or heaven’s greatest warrior. Hell, I can’t even cook, and half the time I clean things it ends up worse! Aren’t ya gonna regret it?” You gasped and he held a hand over his chest.

A tear slipped down your cheek and he froze, pale as a ghost.

“Mammon…I will never, ever regret you.”

Mammon’s heart lifted slowly as you continued. “I do not love you for money. I do not love you for power. I do not love you for fame. I don’t love you for a home-cooked meal or a journey through time.” You wrapped your arms around him and leaned into his exposed chest. “Mammon. I love you because you’re kind. You care far more than people realize. You’re both extremely adorable and incredibly handsome. You always think about how I feel first. You might steal your brothers’ things but you’re also the first to jump to their defense and put yourself in harm’s way. You are loyal to your family and your friends. I love you because you are amazing. You’re my greatest support, my strongest ally, my most cherished friend. Everyone else is family to me, cherished family…but I don’t love them like I love you.”

Mammon was sniffling and holding back his tears as he hugged you tightly.

“I-I’m sorry,” he practically wailed.

“What? Why are you sorry?” You asked, dumbfounded.

“The truth is I’m stressed…I’m stressed because,” he blushed and decided to confess what he’d found. “Cause I went snooping through your room and I found the wishlist you made…and I wanted to get ya the perfect ring but…”

Your eyes widened in shock as he groveled.

“But I’ve always been too damn nervous to ask ya what ya like best and even though I’m breaking my back for Diavolo and Barbatos, I definitely won’t have enough money to get you the perfect ring for you! I can’t even figure out what would be the perfect ring because you look good in all of them,” he blushed madly and the room was silent.

You stepped back from Mammon and turned around to head to your bed.

“Huh-Wha?” Mammon was astonished you’d just walk away and became nervous he’d said too much.

“I’m sorry I know I shouldn’t have snooped—“

You held the piece of paper to his face that he had tucked back into the envelope and hidden back underneath your bed.

“This is my wishlist?” You asked and he nodded shyly.

Again there was silence until you shook your head and began to laugh. Your laughter grew louder and you fell onto the bed, clutching your stomach.

Mammon was bright red. He’d never felt so embarrassed.

“H-Hey! What’s the big idea laughin’ at me!”

You shook your head and wiped the tears out of your eyes. “Oh, Mammon…” you giggled and reached back under the bed. You pulled out the gifts you’d wrapped for him.

“Mammon,” you said, making sure he was paying attention.

“Y-yeah?”

“That wasn’t my wishlist.”

Mammon froze, “h-huh!?” He hid his face in his hands. He couldn’t believe he really thought you were ready to tie the knot.

You grabbed Mammon’s hands and he slowly took them away to see you kneeling in front of him.

“It was my checklist,” you clarified and his eyes widened. “I was planning on waiting until Christmas Day but…”

Mammon let out a loud gasp and his hands shook as you held up a small velvet box.

“Mammon…will you make me the happiest person in all the realms and marry me?”

Mammon’s floodgates open and his lip quivered. He nodded enthusiastically and leaned into your arms. The box fell from your hand as he hugged you on the floor.

“Yes! Yes of course I will!”

You laughed excitedly and hugged him tightly. You felt his small wings flap in excitement and stayed there on the floor frozen in time.

Minutes passed and Mammon had finally calmed his heart. He sat back up and pulled you with him. He crawled to reach the box and opened it back up to see the shining golden ring inside embroidered with diamonds.

“Shit…how’d ya even afford this beauty?”

You laughed, “That’s why I’ve been working so hard lately too.”

Mammon chuckled that you’d both had the same objective this entire time and he hugged you again. “Here,” you declare, taking the box back. “Let me put it on your finger.”

Mammon nodded and his wings flapped as you slid the ring onto his finger. It was a little big but with a few words of sorcery, it fit like a dime.

Mammon grinned, blushing madly, and began laughing. He jumped to his feet and ran to the door beckoning you over, “c’mon! We’re showing everyone right now!”

“On one condition,” you grinned and he nodded, waiting to hear it. “Introduce me as your fiancé.”

He turned redder than he was before and nodded quickly as he grabbed your hand and pulled you out the door behind him.

“Hey idiots wake up! Guess what, you were so wrong!”

~Fin

Part I • Part II • Part III • Part IV

[mytheoristavenue]

Day 11-

BES Mizu x Reader - Winter Proposal

Summary: Mizu has to ask you something before leaving for London.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, sad, rushed/short, spoilers, takes place days after the last episode, grammar

Yesterday's events still played fresh in your mind. The sounds of gunfire, screaming, and metal clanging rang in your ears like a broken record. You'd sustained some injuries, thankfully not from any man-made weapon. You'd been trapped in a collapsing building and pinned under a burning beam. Luckily, Ringo found you and dragged you to safety, before hauling you back to where Master Eiji lived.

The night was spent with Ringo tending to your wounds and delivering news of Mizu's death to her father, who pretended not to be phased. You were unprofessionally diagnosed with a shattered ankle and varying degrees of burning on your legs and waist. Nothing fatal, thank God.

In your short time with Ringo and Eiji, you'd taken to being placed out in the nearby forest. Close enough to yell for help, but far enough to get away from the noise and heat of the forge. Of course, you still had to contribute in some way, so every morning, Ringo would set you outside with a task, usually washing clothes or dishes in a rudimentary tub, and let you watch the woods for anyone looking for trouble. In the evenings, he'd come back and hang the clothes on the line if needed, as you were in no shape to walk.

-----

On the third day, you sat in your chair on the edge of the forest, humming and mending clothes when you finally did spot trouble. A slender figure came hobbling through the woods, peaking out from behind trees when it heard a twig snap. You eyed the shadow cautiously, ready to scream out for the men to protect you at a moment's notice.

"Leave us be, stranger," you warned, brandishing a kitchen knife you kept to cut stray scraps of fabric for patches. "I may be vulnerable, but I'm deadly with a blade even still."

"I know you are," a tired, hoarse voice croaked. "I taught you that."

Your heart skipped a beat at the possibility before you shook the hope away. "You haven't taught me anything, stranger," you rebuked. "The one who trained me is dead."

Just then, the knife plummetted to the snow, let go of by your trembling hands. The stranger finally had inched close enough for their face to be unobscured by the light shining through the trees. Glacier eyes peered down at you from under shaggy chocolate fringe as she leaned against the nearest tree, waiting for you to react.

Without another thought, you left out of your chair, forgetting entirely about the searing pain in your brutalized body, but crumbled at her feet, clinging to her pants.

"My darling," she gasped softly, falling to her knees with you to hold you in her arms. "You're hurt, I'm so sorry, I didn't even know-"

"Where were you?!" you sobbed into her shoulder, making her fall silent. "I thought you were dead- we all thought you were dead!"

"I am," she corrected, bringing your hands from her shoulders to cradle them in hers. "For now, at least. You can't tell anyone I came to you."

"I-I don't understand..." you sniffled, (e/c) gems boring into her very soul. "You only came to see me?"

Her face softened and she smiled. "Yes, my love, I did. I couldn't leave without telling you where I was going."

"You..." you froze in her grasp. "You're leaving again? B-But-"

"But nothing," she corrected, sternly but with love. "I'm going to London to continue my mission." she confessed.

"London..." you repeated. "W-What's that? Where is that? Why can't we go with you?" Your head was spinning, you were so hurt and overjoyed and confused all at the same time.

"It's very far away, in another country. But I promise I'll be back." Mizu swore, pressing a kiss to your forehead with her palms on either temple. "I'm gonna finish my mission and I'll be back before you know it, and we're gonna live a normal life."

"We can't, you know that!" you argued but melted at her soothing touch. "Women can't be wed with one another, women can't buy property, women can't have kids together..." you trailed. "Besides, I know you'll never be done with this endless path of vengence..."

"I hate when you say things like that, my love," Mizu cooed. "Lips as lovely as yours have no place uttering words so violent. You leave all that talk to me." A moment of silence passed between the two of you before she mushed you away enough to hold you at arm's length. "I promise you that I'll be back, and when I am, I'm going to marry you, (Y/N)."

"But how..." you sighed, immense sadness for the death of a dream making your chest hurt.

"I'm a man in the eyes of the law." she smirked. "I can travel unaccompanied, own land and property, and marry who I damn well choose. And...I choose to marry you. If you'll have me?"

You'd never seen Mizu so enthusiastically sure of anything, short of destroying her bloodline. It made you feel incredibly special, the amount of passion she seemed to carry for this. "I'll have you, but I have a few conditions."

"Which are?" she cocked a brow.

You reached up and cupped her cheeks with both hands. "Come back to me in one piece, promise me you will."

Mizu smiled, studying your face lovingly. "I promise I will."

"And I want a farm near Osaka so I can see my family, and I want children to chase around the yard." you dreamed.

"A farm in Osaka, got it," she snickered. "Though knocking you up may be a different story."

"We'll adopt some!" you chirped.

"I think I can do that," Mizu sighed happily, nuzzling into your throat. "I promise a thousand times, my love."

Almost as quickly as she appeared, she was leaving again, begrudgingly tearing herself away from you. "Promise to write me," you sniffled, getting ready to cry again as she helped you back into your chair.

"I will, but it'll be under an alias." she agreed, brushing the hair out of your face and gathering your things to put within your reach. "But you gotta promise me something too."

"Anything."

"Darling, wait for me."

[crossingthedreams]

spare me — javier peña x f!reader

masterlist | day 25 (@angstober) — spare me

a/n: this was really rough for me to write, as I am going through a breakup right now. a really painful one. that's why I wrote this in this way with this character. I hope you enjoy it and, somehow, that this is cathartic for you, should you need it. I sure did.

word count: 638

summary: even after it was over, you could only think... how did it end?

warnings: angst, breakup, no use of y/n, not proofread.

The last time this happened, you promised yourself there would be no next time. This was it, and you knew what you had to do. 

You sat at Javi’s sofa and he sat across from you, in a chair. His eyes were kind, but the uncertainty that lingered killed you. 

The truth was simple: you loved Javier and there was no way you wanted to break up with your three year boyfriend. However, there was a part of you that knew you couldn’t let this happen again, for your own sake. When you walked into his apartment earlier that day, you didn’t think you would be leaving as a single woman. You had chosen to fight for you and him, but the conversation you two just had changed your mind. Unfortunately. 

For months, Javi would constantly ask for a break to “think”. What was a break? What was “thinking”? Whilst he occupied himself in a week of thinking, you would suffer from excruciating anxiety wondering whether he would end things for real or not. 

When he asked for a break again, saying he would call you in a week, after you returned home from a trip he was supposed to go, you knew in your heart what to do. 

“No, Javi”, you softly said, shaking your head. There were no tears. “You can always talk to me, but this is it. I can’t sit around and wait for you to figure out if you'll dump me or not. This is it”.

Javi’s face didn’t change. He just held your hand, and nodded. 

He was soft, so soft, and you already missed his touch. You missed sleeping on this couch, in his arms, as a football game played out on the TV. 

How did you go from “I love you” to “this is it” in a thirty minute conversation? You wanted to tell him again that you loved him, beg him to change his mind and go on your trip with you. You kept replaying the last 24 hours in your mind, thinking about all the events that led to this — to the end of the road. 

There were issues, but none of them were unfixable. Javi’s mindset was not yours to rearrange, and it killed you that he hurt you. You knew it killed him too. 

“I’m sorry”, was all that he said, gaze avoiding yours. He was staring at your intertwined hands, and you knew it was time to let go. 

The coldness in your gesture, as you let go of his hand, surprised even yourself. Hours later, as the pain and sorrow striked, you’d look back and wish you hugged him. But you had to spare him, and yourself, from constant indecision. 

“I’ll walk you to your car”, he said, a hand on the small of your back.

You shook your head no, still exhausted from your work and family affairs. It was the worst thing that you had to let go of the man you loved so dearly, and add this emotional hit on top of all others. 

“Don’t worry”, you replied, and both of you knew your words could be translated as "spare me”. 

Respecting your wishes, Javier only led you to the door. He tried to kiss you, but you simply presented your cheek. You didn’t look back as he watched you leave, and you drove straight away. There were still no tears.

Hours later, in the airport, that’s when the tears came. When you realized he wouldn’t come running through the airport security and confess his love. When a couple sat across from you, and called themselves “baby”. When you sat in the airplane alone, next to the seat that would have been his. You couldn’t spare yourself from getting hurt, but you could make a choice on what would hurt you.

[shiorimakibawrites]

Day 25 - Older

Day 25 - Older Prompts: Day 25: “What's Wrong?” + 23: Father {angst} Character: Matt Murdock Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader Word Count: ~560 Warning(s): Referenced canon character death, grief, mourning, drinking, mild swearing Taglist: @loves0phelia, @nowheredreamer, @beezusvreeland, @yarrystyleeza Tuna-Tober 2024 Masterlist

This was an one-shot written after random bit of inspiration one day. But now with art!

Older

Now, it wasn’t entirely unusual for you to turn on the lights and find Matt already home. He never used them when it was just him. Sometimes he flicked them on when he heard you coming up but other times he didn’t. You think he enjoyed making you jump with a startled ‘Matthew!’ when you hit the switch and found him standing right you.

Not tonight. Tonight, you found him sitting on the couch with his shoulders hunched and his head bowed. In one hand, he was holding a bottle of whiskey. He didn’t seem to have noticed your arrival, something that only increased your concern.

“Matty?” you asked. You had spoken softly but he still flinched like you had shouted. He lifted his head and you felt your concern turn to worry. His eyes were red, his cheeks stained with salt. He had been crying. “Matty, what’s wrong?”

He flinched again.

“D-don’t –,” he started, his voice thick with pain. “N-not that name. Please.”

“Okay,” you said, keeping your voice low. Sometimes when he was stressed, Matt experienced sensory spikes. Not always but that flinch implied this might be one of those times. Regardless, you tended to err on the side of caution. You came closer, torn between your desire to hug him and the knowledge that touch might be painful . . .

Qualms that Matt apparently didn’t share. He scooted over to the edge of the couch, dropping the whiskey bottle to the floor. Thankfully, it didn’t break. Just hit the wooden floor with a dull thud. Must have been the fancy one that Frank gave them as wedding present. This particular bottle had proven surprisingly resilient. But the bottle was put out of your mind in favor of the man wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face against your chest.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him against you more firmly. Then you slide one hand up to run your fingers through his hair. Matt usually found that soothing. Today was no exception. You felt some of the tension start to drain out of his muscles in his shoulders and back.

“Matt,” you said, lowering your voice even further. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

“It’s stupid,” he muttered.

“I doubt that,” you said, massaging his scalp with your fingertips. “I doubt that very much. Anything that upset you this much isn’t stupid. Whatever it is, you can tell me. You know that.”

A deep shuddering breath. “Today was my father’s birthday.”

You remembered. Matt had been a little melancholy this morning but he always was when Jack’s absence was especially painful. Like his or Matt’s birthday. The day Jack was killed. Holidays. The day of your wedding. You made a soft, encouraging sound.

“He should have been turning fifty-four this year. But he’s not. And I just . . . I just realized that I’m older than my father. I got to see thirty-three and he never did. Risk my neck almost every damn night and I’m alive. But he’s not. And it hurts.”

His voice broke on that last word and fresh tears begin to soak your shirt. You tightened your arms around him, wishing there was something you could say that could ease this pain. Anything that would make it all better. But there wasn’t. All you could do was hold him while he grieved.

[doyelikehaggis]

25 Days of Sleighpairs: Paige Krasikeva x Violet (Teen Wolf) + “Chocolate”

Requested by @mariedemedicis

"I have a surprise for you."

Paige lit up as soon as she laid eyes on Violet, slipping into the empty music room and closing the door behind her. She kept her hand behind her back for dramatic effect.

"I like the sound of that."

Putting her cello aside, Paige raised her eyebrows and waited - impatiently - as Violet dropped into the seat beside her, their knees touching. Finally, she produced the gift, wrapped up in brown paper with a deep purple satin ribbon tied around it. Paige's favourite colour, of course.

"You know Christmas isn't for another week, right?" she teased, but she eagerly took the present.

"It's nothing big," Violet said quickly, watching her delicately untie the ribbon, making sure to keep it intact. The paper was a different story.

As soon as she got into them, Paige lit up like the Christmas tree that she always complained her family put up too early. Violet liked it; it was definitely better than her foster parents' attempts to "make her feel included" in their traditions. She forced the smile to stay on her face, but as soon as Paige started squealing in delight, it didn't take much effort.

"I love these," she said, already opening the box of chocolates. "They're my favourite kind."

"I know," Violet said softly.

Paige lifted her gaze to her, and her smile stretched. She leaned over and kissed her cheek, startling her. But Paige didn't seem to notice as she pulled back, saying, "This is the best gift ever. I'm totally going to eat these before Christmas, you know that?"

Violet laughed, trying to ignore the warm flush beneath her skin. Paige popped one in her mouth then insisted that she eat one, too. And she could never say no to her.

They stayed in the music room, messing around with the instruments. Paige didn't do a whole lot of proper practicing, but she didn't seem to mind Violet's distraction. As they were mid-laughter, there was a knock on the door and a head popped around it. A boy. His beaming smile fell a little when he saw them both sitting there.

Violet was about to ask if he wanted something, but Paige spoke first with a roll of her eyes. "Derek, what are you doing here?"

"I was just coming to see if you were in here," he said with a shrug, trying and failing to be totally smooth. "Wanted to say hi. And see you."

Violet's stomach turned. Violently. She glanced from him to Paige, trying to gauge her reaction - annoyance, right? She hated Derek Hale, they both did. He was loud and annoying and was always disrupting the class.

But Paige was smiling. "Well, now you have. So, you can go."

"Right. See you later."

He left, but Paige was still smiling. Violet coudn't muster one. Her heart was almost beating too fast to hear her as she said, "I forgot to tell you" and launched into a recollection of how he had talked to her and what they had said the other day. The chocolate aftertaste turned sour in her mouth as Paige's cheeks turned pink and her smile grew wider with every word.

Finally, when there was a pause, Violet asked, "Do you like him?"

"What?" Paige rolled her eyes again and scoffed. "No, definitely not. I mean, he's kind of cute. In an annoying way. But I don't like him."

She avoided looking at her. The bell went, perfectly in sync with Violet's heart as she watched Paige get up, suddenly worried about being late for their next class. She waited for her, holding the door open, but Violet knew, deep down, that she had already lost her.

[blackrosesandwhump]

Augusnippets Day 25: Reluctant Whumper

CW: Gothic whump, vampire whumper, self-punishment, blood

A/N: Sequel to this drabble.

He couldn’t bear it any longer, the horrible, consuming hunger, and so he ventured into the dark street, desperate for blood.

His punishment had lasted four days. Four days of self-inflicted starvation. Four days spent wracked with guilt, longing to feed and consumed with remorse because of that desire. Every time he drank blood, his victim would be left in terrible fear, utterly helpless and paralyzed until his venom had run its course. It was his fault, his doing, that they had to suffer. It would never be quick and easy.

And because of that, he imprisoned himself in his mansion, denying himself even a drop of blood.

Until tonight.

The vampire stumbled down the alley, leaning heavily against the brick wall. He could barely stand. His hands shook, his legs trembled, and the dim, twilight world around him swam and bucked. Someone—there had to be someone—someone he could feed on, before—

There. A figure, a man, walking briskly in his direction, accompanied by a smaller figure at his side—

No. Please no. The vampire gasped for breath, his body threatening to collapse under him. A child. The man was holding a child’s hand. He couldn’t feed in front of a child.

As he stood pressed against the wall, his thoughts racing, a tight claw of ravenous hunger closed around him. It was too late. He had no choice, no control over his body as it lunged forward. He seized the man, ripping him away from the little girl’s grasp and plunging his fangs deep into the veins of his neck. The man spluttered and choked for a moment then lapsed into submissive silence as the venom flowed into him. The vampire drank deeply, each swallow of blood more euphoric than the last. So hungry. He was so hungry. He would kill this man, drain him dry, feed on him until his monstrous appetite was finally satisfied.

But he couldn’t. With a cry of agony, he wrenched himself away. The man dropped like a dead weight and lay paralyzed, his wrinkled eyes frozen wide with shock and terror. The child backed away, whimpering, tears tracking down her cheeks.

The vampire couldn’t bear to look at her. Wiping his mouth clean with the back of his sleeve, he reached into his vest pocket. The fresh handkerchief he pulled out glowed white in the darkness. He thrust it out, averting his eyes.

“Take it. Please. It'll help, I promise.”

Slowly, the little girl reached out and took it, then held it close to her face. Her crying stopped.

Without a glance backward, the vampire fled and locked himself away, the sound of her fear still echoing in his head.

@augusnippets @fourwingedwriter @whumpy-writings

[gregorovitch-adler]

La Valentía Desafiante

Gus was back home after yet another failed business meeting. He went to the living room and sank in the couch.

Max was in the bedroom, changing out of his formal clothes.

It seemed as though no matter how hard he and Max tried, they would never be able to convince any drug dealer in town about switching their product to meth from cocaine -- no matter how much potential meth had for the drug business. Least of all someone like Don Eladio.

What's more, Don Eladio and his minions had started to question Gus' relationship with Max.

None of those people had said anything directly to either of them, but Gus was not oblivious to the change in body language and the unspoken things left out of their conversations.

He was certainly not oblivious to the partly amused, partly disgusted looks those people would exchange among themselves every time Gus and Max decided to sit close together during the meetings. That was just one example among many.

Gus sighed in resignation and looked around himself in that dimly lit room.

His eyes fell on the Christmas tree by the fireplace, which he and Max had decorated together a few days ago. Gus could not help smiling at it despite his sour mood.

It was Christmas Eve today. Gus' gift for Max was kept safely in one of the drawers beneath the TV.

Although Gus had already planned a nice surprise for Max tomorrow—not just a gift, but also an elaborate date night—he still wanted to do more.

He was tired of being made to feel submissive, like he was beneath the people he would sometimes have important meetings with. He was tired of not being seen as an equal.

Gus did not want to be a passenger in the car on his own journey through life.

He looked down at the ring he used to wear on his right hand. It was given to Gus by his dad when he was a teenager.

The ring did not have much of a monetary value, but it had been passed down to him as a generational property.

It had a gray band with an artificial blue stone in the center.

Gus had an idea. He would give this ring to Max tomorrow when exchanging gifts with him.

He would give it to Max as a promise ring—a promise of marriage in the future, or at the very least, a promise of a lifetime of togetherness.

That would be his way to set his foot down and take back the driver's seat in his life.

What a perfect gift, both to Max and to himself!

Gus allowed a small smile to play across his lips, feeling very giddy all of a sudden.

Could it be Christmas Day already?

**

Prompts: Christmas tree and The Perfect Gift by @fluff-cember

Tags: @lisbeth-kk @helloliriels @keirgreeneyes @jamielovesjam @totallysilvergirl @peanitbear @gaylilsherlock @topsyturvy-turtely @calaisreno , etc.

[2demon2slayer]

so here's the theory:

because sanemi and giyuu's demon slayer marks fade away, they don't die when they turn 25. but since tanjirou's sticks around, it does kill him

[gijane-7702]

Christmas At Mars - gijane7702 - Star Trek: Prodigy [Archive of Our Own]

My submission for Day One !!!

[kyouka-supremacy]

Like technically I know chuuaku as a ship has a great angst potential too. Not to me though that ship is sugar spice and everything nice

[candywife333]

ANNOUNCEMENT

I am currently planning a 25 days to Christmas chubby reader x bts fic release. The idea is to release a one-shot per day with different themes all the way till Christmas. Hopefully I can pull through.

Wish you all a very happy holidays and I hope I can make it even better!!

I’ve officially started releasing the oneshots. Hope you guys like them ❤️❤️❤️❤️

[devildomwriter]

One Little Thing, A Ring Part IV | Mammon x Reader

1.1K Words | GN! Reader | CW: Angst

You came home late again that night from work and were surprised to find Mammon already asleep. The past few weeks you’d been working extra hard, Mammon had stayed up for you and offered you a rose he’d stolen from a bouquet somewhere in the house. But tonight he was sprawled out under the covers and his cheek was pink and puffy.

You inspected closely without waking him up and felt the skin had liquid beneath. Using your magic you identified the perpetrator and healed his wound, draining the last bit of magic you had in you for the day.

Not bothering to change out of your old clothes you lifted the blanket and fell asleep next to Mammon.

Mammon was practically comatose but he could sense your presence and his pained face grinned as he snuggled closer to you, head on your chest.

You smiled and held onto him as you drifted into sleep.

Mammon was sad the next day to see you’d left early again. He noticed your slippers by the bedside and began to wonder if you’d actually been there or if he’d dreamed it up.

He pulled out his D.D.D. to call you but you couldn’t answer and he gave up after a few tries and sighed.

He scratched his back and stretched, trying to wake up his body before being put back to work. Despite the cheer of the holiday season, Mammon stayed occupied only with work and didn’t enjoy it as he normally did. All he could focus on was money and this time it was for a good reason. All of this was for you.

Mammon’s brothers had all learned what was happening and dealt with it in their own ways. Lucifer’s way of dealing was to occasionally ensure Mammon had more work to do but he remained at the castle a majority of the day to make sure he wasn’t worked too hard.

His brothers began to randomly appear at the castle and soon after some kind of disaster would occur that they’d never be punished for.

Eventually, Mammon caught on and he wasn’t happy. He put up with a lot of shit from them over thousands of years but he wasn’t having it and called for an intervention.

They didn’t listen to him so Lucifer forced everyone to come together and hear him out. Mammon got a pardon from work so everyone could meet up at an acceptable time of the day.

“Okay, why’d you call us here?” Leviathan asked annoyed and focusing more on his D.D.D.

Mammon growled, “Dammit, you know why. All of ya do!” He pointed his fingers at his brothers.

Asmodeus gasped and placed his hand over his chest. “I’ve done nothing wrong, how could you accuse me!”

Mammon glared at him and Satan nudged Asmo to cool it with the theatrics.

Belphegor rolled his eyes at Mammon’s declaration. “What did you expect?” He hissed, in demon form.

Beelzebub put a hand on Belphegor’s shoulder trying to ease his anger but it was palpable.

“You guys know damn well why I’m working and you’re makin’ it harder what gives!”

Satan glared at Mammon now, “as Belphie said. What did you expect?”

Mammon clenched his fists and his demon form slipped out which surprised his brothers. Mammon didn’t often lose control like the rest of them, even when they beat on him, called his names, or won their money back, Mammon would stay calm. But not now, Mammon was beyond pissed.

Lucifer remained silent, he knew what Mammon was going to say and he knew that Mammon would be right too.

“Do ya realize that by gettin’ in my way, you’re really just gettin’ in ___’s way!”

They froze in silence.

“I get that you’re all mad they didn’t date you instead! I get that cause I’d feel the exact same way! Y’know how pissed I got all those times I thought they were dating one of you! Or when they kissed Lucifer that time he got amnesia!”

Lucifer chuckled and earned hateful glares from each brother.

“Anyways, I get it! But this isn’t about me, it’s about ___! And if you really care about them then you should want them to be happy and like it or not, they’re happy with me! And I’m tryin’ to give them a ring they deserve and I’m doin’ honest work! So quit comin’ into the castle and screwing everything up! It’s not cool and you know that!”

Everyone was silent for a while and Mammon finally tucked away his wings and sat on the couch facing his brothers.

Lucifer finally spoke with a small nod. “I know.” He relented. “You’re right. All of us are making things harder on you.”

“Hey! You don’t speak for me,” Belphegor snapped but Satan shook his head.

“Give it up Belphie. We’re too obvious.” Satan looked Mammon in the eye. “Fine. We’ll stay out of your way and we’ll do it for ___ not for you.”

Asmodeus nodded and Beelzebub looked at the ground.

“But know this,” Satan continued. “I’ll be waiting for the moment you slip up and when that happens I’ll be the one by their side.”

Leviathan set his D.D.D. down and glared, “That goes for me too.”

Everyone agreed and Mammon sighed. “Whatever, that’s not gonna happen so you’re all gonna have to suck it up for ___’s sake. You really think they want you guys trying to ruin their relationship the second you can?”

Satan turned red and Beelzebub blushed in some sense of shame. They wouldn’t admit to it but they still intended to romance you any chance they could get. Similarly to Diavolo, they were hoping that after hundreds or thousands of years with Mammon, polygamy might be on the table.

Mammon knew this and stayed wary of his brothers but took solace in the fact they wouldn’t dare upset you, so his relationship was safe as long as you were happy. That scared him at the same time.

The closer Christmas got the more he panicked. Was he really good enough? Could he really make you happy forever? He couldn’t even make up his mind on a ring because everything looked so damn perfect when you wore it and he couldn’t afford to get them all.

Mammon looked at the calendar one more time before collapsing into your bed, “the twenty-third already…” he sighed and covered his face.

He was so close to eternal happiness but at the same time feared letting you down. Mammon had nightmares that night until you shook him awake.

“Huh! What’s happening!” He shouted with a start, his cheeks stained with dried tears.

“Mammon…” you said in a gentle tone and wrapped your arms around him. “You need to tell me what’s going on.”

Part I • Part II • Part III • Part V

[fandomscraziness22]

it’s something he’s been told all his life

“It’s for your own good.”

kenji angst today! no season 2 spoilers!! written for @whumptober day 25: "it's for your own good"

[lifblogs]

Choices

@ailesswhumptober Day 25 Humiliation, Betrayal, "How could you?"

Fandom: The Bad Batch Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Word Count: 1519 Summary: Crosshair is contacted by Hemlock, and he has to make a choice. He made it. Now he has to live with it. READ ON AO3

“How could you?” Hunter asked.

Hunter’s words weren’t what broke Crosshair. It was the way he said them. Crosshair had expected his brother to snarl at him, yell at him, scream. He hadn’t expected the quiet way he said the words, the way it seemed like his breath was nearly stolen from him from his pain.

Crosshair turned his head away, as Hunter, and Wrecker were put in binders.

“I’m sorry.”

“A load of good that does,” Wrecker snarled.

“Please make sure Wrecker gets taken care of,” Crosshair said to a passing TK trooper.

“Shut it.”

TK troopers were about to lead them away, but Hemlock entered from the main hangar doors of Tantiss.

“Let them stay,” he ordered. “I want them here for this.”

Crosshair was immediately tense at hearing his voice, and he backed away half a step before he could master himself.

Hemlock was massaging his left hand as he came up to them.

“Where’s the other one?” Hemlock asked. “CT-9904, you promised me all of them. If you don’t deliver, well—”

Crosshair held out a hand, heart going colder than Barton IV in his chest.

“Wait! He’s probably disguised as a stormtrooper. He came in with the scientific research vessel.”

Wrecker let out a wordless cry, and charged at Crosshair.

A stun blast brought him to his knees.

Crosshair did back away then. Not so he’d be farther from his brothers, but perhaps he’d be farther away from all of this.

Oh stars, what have I done?

They’d taken him back despite what he’d done to them, they’d made amends, he’d made amends.

This whole squad, this family was being torn apart. It was nothing. They weren’t Clone Force 99 anymore.

Hemlock spoke to a TK trooper, and he was sent off with a squad to search for Echo.

“Please… please don’t hurt them,” Crosshair said in a halting, bland voice, finding it difficult to show any of what he was truly feeling, especially in front of the man who had tortured him to near-insanity.

Hemlock let out a small smile, even laughed a little. “CT-9904, that was never on the table.”

“Then give me what was on the table.”

��Hmm, it seems you misunderstood.”

“What?”

“First, let’s see if your squad knows why you did this. Did he tell you?” Hemlock asked.

Hunter, and Wrecker were silent. Their helmets had been taken along with their weapons, and Wrecker’s glare cut deep.

“We accepted you back,” Hunter said. His eyes were wide, muscles in his face slack with hurt, confusion. “I don’t understand what went wrong.”

“Oh, don’t worry. It wasn’t you,” Hemlock said, pacing in front of them.

He grabbed Hunter’s face, and Hunter had a blaster pointed to his head when he tried to pull away.

“You see, it was me,” he said. “Your brother betrayed you all because. Of. Me.”

He let Hunter go, and Hunter looked ready to spit on him.

“I still don’t understand,” Wrecker said. “Crosshair, how could you?”

Hemlock patted his injured chest, which had Wrecker bending forward from the pain. Crosshair nearly lifted his rifle.

He could do it, couldn’t he?

He was fast. He could take Hemlock out.

But who would survive then? He needed his family to survive, needed Omega to survive. Strangely, he himself wanted to make it through this night.

“Oh, don’t you see by now?” Hemlock said. “It was for her, for Omega. I admit, the odds seemed against me when I reached out to CT-9904. He’s always been severe, cold, callous.”

Crosshair growled. That wasn’t true. It just wasn’t true!

“But he escaped this facility before with Omega,” Hemlock went on. “And I was told by the operative that brought her in that Crosshair was rather protective of her. So I used her as leverage.”

Hunter did growl at that one. He tried to get up.

He was whacked in the head with a blaster, and was sent to his knees with a groan.

Crosshair gripped his rifle even tighter.

He’d lost control of the situation, had perhaps never had it in the first place.

Hemlock was in charge of all of this. Crosshair had never stood a chance.

His gut plummeted.

He’d made a mistake.

How could he fix it?

The manpower and firepower he’d be up against was impossible. He’d be killed in at least two seconds. He’d never even make it to a ship to leave the hangar and contact Rex.

“She’d better be okay!” Wrecker cried.

“My specimen is fine, in a sense. Not that she’s ever leaving this mountain again.”

“What?” Crosshair cried. “That—that wasn’t the deal!”

Hemlock smiled, hands behind his back now, as he turned to him. “Oh, you misunderstood me. I never said you could have her. I just said I wouldn’t kill her if you brought me Clone Force 99.”

There was something akin to excitement in Hemlock’s eyes, and Crosshair realized his wording too late.

Blasters were now pointed at him as well.

Panicked, he fired at an approaching TK trooper. The shot burned through their chest, and they collapsed to the ground. Before Crosshair could fully understand the shots that had been fired, the shots he’d missed, he was on his knees. He gasped as his helmet was ripped off, his rifle smacked from his fingers. A blaster was pressed against his head, still hot from firing a stun blast at him. A very handsy trooper took his sidearm and felt him down for other weapons, and for comms. Crosshair grunted at his rough treatment.

“Hands behind your head!”

He slowly raised his arms. He couldn’t see a way out of this, especially as his comms were handed to Hemlock. How could he even fix this? Crosshair looked at Hunter, his sergeant, his leader, his brother. Hunter looked away.

Hemlock came forward as binders were slapped onto Crosshair’s wrists. He tried to lean back, but there was no leeway. He sneered as Hemlock  leaned over, grabbing his face.

Crosshair swore he was going to faint from the terror that awoke in him from being this close to him again, from feeling his gloved hand on his face. His scent of warm spice washed over him, and Crosshair held in a gag. His hot breath was on his face, as close as a lover’s.

He tried to look away, but the forceful, bruising grip didn’t let him.

He could only gasp and pant as he withstood being touched by this monster.

“Look me in the eyes,” Hemlock said.

Crosshair couldn’t follow his command.

He shook him, and Crosshair grunted.

“Look me in the eyes!”

The blaster pressed harder against his head.

Crosshair did so, trembling all over from it, sweating.

Hemlock leaned in even more, his blue eyes full of nothing but hot, sadistic pleasure.

“Omega’s not going to go free,” he whispered to him, like this was some sort of secret. “And neither are you.” Crosshair’s head began to bow at the weight of those words, the sheer horror of them making it difficult to even breathe. “I’m not done speaking to you,” Hemlock said. “Look me in the eyes!” 

He was whacked against the back of his head, Crosshair grimacing at the bright, throbbing pain. Shaking, mouth going dry, he met Hemlock’s eyes again.

“Please,” Crosshair begged. “Let her go.”

“No. But, thank you, CT-9904, for bringing me everything I want.”

Hemlock stood, and motioned for them to be taken inside.

Crosshair couldn’t even scream as he and his squad—well, they weren’t a squad anymore because he’d broken that—were made to stand, and led inside the mountain.

Crosshair looked up at the sky, at the moon, the stars, thankfully this dank, humid planet had gifted him a cloudless night.

I don’t suppose I’ll ever see those again.

He had paused too long, had tilted his head too far back.

He was soundly smacked right above his left ear.

“Keep moving,” he was ordered. “Head down.”

I’m sorry, Omega.

I’m sorry.

The last one had been for Hunter, for Wrecker, for Echo.

For everything he’d ever done wrong, for all the choices that had led them here.

They were all taken inside, never to see that sky again.

And it was Crosshair’s fault.

Hemlock walked beside him, and he tried to not throw up, though his breaths were now very shallow.

“Thank you for playing your part, CT-9904. And just so you know, I wasn’t planning on killing Omega. I’d never kill that specimen.”

She’s a person, Crosshair wanted to argue.

But oh, he was so stupid!

He should have seen that, known that, but he had panicked when the threat was spoken over comms, and all he could think was that Omega had to be safe. He would do anything to keep her alive, and he supposed now his family saw the depths he would go to.

Shame burned through him.

They’d never forgive him for this.

He’d never forgive himself.

And Omega would never forgive him.

I’m sorry.

The hangar doors shut behind them. They were sealed in the mountain, all prisoners to Crosshair’s choices.