#Again. I'm shattered I'm sad I'm so exhausted and I don't know what to do

[usurpator]

I did wake up. But it's real

[lillithsalvatore]

million dollar man

pairing: royal!jacaerys velaryon x fem!reader

summary: the price of loving a million dollar man, a prince

warning: modern royal au!, mention of cheating, angst, minor dni, cursing, asshole jace (?), cried. like and reblog are appreciated!! my 1st imagine, please be nice!!

---

"Did you fuck her, Jace? Answer me!" you demanded your soon-to-be-husband, your voice trembling with anger as you stared at Jace, eyes burning with rage. In your hand was a newspaper from a well-known publication, which you held up in front of him. A news about him with his 'childhood bestfriend'

When Jace finally confessed, nearly shouting, "Once, just once, and I fucking regreted it" your heart tightened. His admission felt like a powerful blow to the trust and pride you had invested in him. Your anger intensified, but beneath it all, a deep sadness began to take hold of your mind.

"Once?" You gave a bitter smile. "Even once is fucking enough to destroy everything we had, Jace."

Jace looked at you with regretful eyes, but that only made you feel more exhausted. "Do you know? I trusted you more than I trusted myself. And you betrayed that trust for a moment of weakness."

"Y/n…" Jace began, trying to approach you, but you raised your hand to stop him.

"Don't!" you choked out, but your voice remained firm. "Don't make this worse Jace”

You took a deep breath, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. "I loved you sincerely, but love cannot continue when trust has been shattered."

Finally, you turned away, heading toward the door,

"I hope you never make anyone else feel the way I did."

Jace stood there, frozen, feeling the pain in every word you spoke. He realized that you were not just angry about the betrayal, but also about feeling disregarded, pushed aside in a relationship where you had poured all your heart and soul.

"Y/n, I'm sorry, —" Jace said, his voice trembling, but you couldn't bear to hear any more. Apologies at this point only deepened the pain.

"Don't apologize, Jace," you replied, your voice breaking with sobs. "Sorry doesn't change anything. You chose her over me, It's always been her, Jace."

You could feel Jace's hand still holding yours, but now, that warmth no longer provided the comfort it once did. Instead, it only reminded you of the times he wasn't there for you, when he chose to protect someone else over you.

“Please don’t do this, please let me fix it” He begged

"I tried so hard, Jace. I gave you everything I had, but you chose her, even if you didn't realize it," you said, your voice now filled with nothing but exhaustion and despair.

Jace didn't know what to do, what to say to fix his mistake. He could feel everything between you falling apart, piece by piece, with no way to put it back together.

"Y/n, I—" Jace started, but you interrupted him, pulling your hand out of his grasp.

"I can't stay here anymore, Jace. I can't keep going like this. I guess that's the price of loving a million dollar man."

"And I giving this ring back to you, I hope you'll find someone who deserve it" You turned away, moving towards the door, trying to leave this suffocating space before your heart completely shattered.

Before opening the door, you looked back at Jace one last time, hoping he would understand what you couldn't put into words: that you had loved him deeply, but you couldn't stay with someone who no longer belonged to you.

And then, you walked out of the apartment. As the door closed behind you, you felt a profound sadness but also a sense of relief, as if a great burden had been lifted. The tears had dried up, leaving a void in your heart, but it was a necessary emptiness, allowing you to move forward, to find yourself again and rebuild your life from the ruins.

And though the pain was immense, you knew you had done the right thing. You chose yourself

Jace might realize his mistake, but it was too late. The love and trust you had given him were no longer intact. Now, you had to seek happiness for yourself, a happiness unbound by emotional scars.

And so, you moved on, looking toward the future, knowing you deserved a true love, a love that would never betray you.

[vscabarca]

crying won‘t make you weak - pablo gavi

summary: gavi breaks down after the el clásico game, but you‘re there to comfort him.

genre: fluff, a bit sad tho

———

Frustration was probably the best word to describe how you felt. After a tough loss against Real Madrid, you finally arrived at Gavi’s apartment and plopped down onto the couch with a sight. You couldn't even think how your boyfriend must've felt when the referee blew the final whistle. He played an incredible game, tackled successfully during important moments and fought for every ball.

Sometimes football wasn't fair.

You got home before him, reading a book to distract yourself from bad thoughts and idiots on social media who picked on everything Gavi did. After a while the front door opened, revealing a tired looking Gavi.

If you were honest, you didn't know what to expect. Sometimes, Gavi was still angry after a bad game and needed some time alone to cool down. Other times he let his frustration at the facilities, coming home tired but calm, not wanting to think about it anymore. It really depended on how important the game was.

El Clásico was different. It was one of the most watched games in football and extremely important anyway.

He looked up, seeing his girlfriend's sad eyes.

Gavi dropped his bag lazily onto the floor and made his way over to you immediately. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, pushing you down to lay on top of you.

„Hey amor." you spoke softly and stroked his hair with your fingers. Gavis head was nuzzled into your neck as he mumbled a quiet „Hola bebé". You didn't pressure Gavi to talk and just held him tightly while stroking his back over and over again, placing some light kisses on his head too.

It has been some minutes of silence when You felt Gavi‘s body twitch several times. Quiet sobs could be heard leaving his lips and he shoved his head even deeper into your shoulder. When you realized Gavi was crying, your heart shattered into million pieces. The sobs grew more frequent and you tried your best to calm him down.

„Shh, Shh, Shh... Baby it's alright. You did the best you could." you said, trying to get him to look at you.

„It's just so exhausting. No matter what I do it won't be good enough. I won't be good enough." Gavi answered with a hoarse voice, placing his head now on your chest, his tears staining your (his) jersey. „Bebé don't say that. You were the best player on the pitch today. The two goals were unfortunate, yes, but you played so well."

„We still couldn't win. Now people won't stop bashing us players. I hate the pressure." His tears still streamed down his cheeks as you tried to wipe them away with your thumb.

„Look at me please. Only people who don't know anything about football will do that, and Madrid fans. But your family, Barcelona supporters and the team believe in you. That's what should matter in the end. Sure Bellingham is world class but so are you. I mean look at you! 19, playing your 9th el clásico, won LaLiga, Nations League and the Kopa trophy! You're there for a reason." You took his face in your hands and looked into his gloomy brown eyes, placing a lovely kiss on his lips.

Gavi slowly started to calm down and smiled tiredly at you. „I usually don't cry, I don't even know why I did." He hiccuped, hiding his face in embarrassment.

„Hey, never apologize for how you feel. You know crying won't make you weak. You can cry as much as you need to with me." you giggled, assuring your boyfriend that crying wasn't something to be embarrassed about. „I think I'm good now, thank you for being here for me." Gavi spoke and lifted himself up to kiss you again.

„Always Pablito."

„Can we stay like this? It's really comfortable." He laid onto your chest again, muffling into your collarbone.

„Of course. Anything for you." Not even ten minutes later, Gavi was sleeping peacefully on top of you, while you stroked his head softly again.

[unpopularwriter25]

Shattered Silence

Summary: After a heated moment, Sanemi's harsh words leave the reader in a state of silent withdrawal. As the days pass, the silence weighs heavily on Sanemi, leading him to a breaking point where he pleads for forgiveness and a chance to make things right.

Warnings: None.

Note: This is what I'm doing instead of working lol. If anyone has any characters they would like just let me know! You can message me or send me an ask!

Sanemi Shinazugawa was pacing along the edge of the training field, the sun dipping low in the sky casting long shadows. The leaves rustled in the breeze, the evening air cool but heavy with unresolved tension. Sanemi's mind raced back to that moment earlier in the week—when frustration and anger had gotten the better of him.

"I can't believe you messed up again," he had snapped, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. "Do you ever think before you act?"

He hadn't meant it. He was already upset, a combination of exhaustion and worry gnawing at his patience. But the look in your eyes, the way you had recoiled and gone silent, it haunted him.

Days had passed, each one more excruciating than the last as you withdrew further into yourself. You carried out your duties in complete silence, your eyes avoiding his. It was as if the light had dimmed, and the absence of your voice left a void that nothing could fill.

By the fifth day, Sanemi couldn't take it anymore. The suffocating silence was worse than any wound he had ever endured. He found you sitting by the edge of the training field, the sunset painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. The sight of you, so close yet so distant, broke something inside him.

"Please," he began, his voice raw and desperate. "I need you to talk to me."

You didn't move, your eyes fixed on the horizon, expression unreadable. Sanemi dropped to his knees beside you, his hands clenched into fists.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice cracking. "I didn't mean it. I was upset and I took it out on you, and I... I can't stand this silence."

Tears pricked at his eyes, his chest tightening with regret. "Please, just say something. Yell at me, hit me, anything. Just don't shut me out."

For a long moment, there was only the sound of the wind in the trees. Then, finally, you turned to him, your eyes meeting his. The pain and sadness in your gaze made his heart ache.

"You really hurt me, Sanemi," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

"I know," he replied, his voice thick with emotion. "And I'm so, so sorry. Please give me a chance to make it right. I can't lose you."

You sighed, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly. "You have to understand, words hurt. Especially from someone I... care about."

Sanemi nodded, a tear slipping down his cheek. "I promise, I'll be better. Just... don't leave me in the silence."

You reached out, your hand resting on his. It was a small gesture, but it was enough to make his heart swell with hope. "Okay," you said softly. "Let's work through this together."

As the sun set, casting a gentle glow over the two of you, Sanemi felt a sense of relief wash over him. He knew it would take time to heal the wounds, but he was determined to prove that his words, from now on, would be ones of care and love.

[circlebuttons]

Broken- Rafe Cameron x Toxic!Reader

I wanted to try and write a toxic reader fic but idk i might redo it

-

Rafe Cameron knows what it's like to be broken.

He knows what it feels like to always be hurting, and yet also be the villain, that's why he stays.

Rafe had gone out without you and his phone died, so he had no way to contact you halfway through his night out. He should've found a way to charge it or even started making his way home, all of this would've been avoided, he's beating himself up for letting this happen. He knows how worried you get about him and when his location stops updating and your calls go to voicemail what else can you do other than assume the worst.

He got home so late and you stayed up, unable to sleep with thousands of thoughts running through your head, you were drained. The exhaustion you feel is quickly replaced with anger as Rafe tries to quietly enter, stumbling over himself, phone in hand. He sobers up completely as soon as he makes eye contact with your fired glare.

"Hey baby" he speaks timidly as he leans down to kiss you, but as an instant reaction you put your hands on his chest and all of your weight into them, shoving him away from you and making him stumble backwards a bit. "Don't hey baby me asshole, where the fuck were you?"

"I went out with Kelce and Top, remember baby you said I could" he tries desperately to remind you of the conversation that happened prior, anything to try and prolong the explosion that he knows is bound to happen.

"I said you could go out with them not cheat on me, like what the fuck?" You whine, fighting back tears and quickly letting your anger blend into sadness.

"Baby please, it's not like that" he approaches you again with caution, holding your hands in his until you drop them down, crossing your arms instead.

You wipe your eyes and abruptly stop whining, exchanging it for a glare. "I don't believe you, your location is off and I called your phone a thousand times"

"My phone died I-" you lunge forward and snatch his phone

"If it powers on rafe I swear to god i'll fucking kill you" You scream at him, fumbling with his phone, hands trembling with anger. He chews on his lip in anticipation as you hold the power button. The phone powers on and you don't even wait to see the battery percentage at three percent, or wait to see it almost immediately shut itself back off, you just react. You throw his phone as hard as you can towards him, but he dodges it, making the phone spike the ground. he knows it's broken without even looking at it, but he doesn't care. He doesn't care because you breakdown in front of him crying. You're crying because your constantly convinced and scared he's cheating on you, crying because you feel guilty about breaking his phone, and maybe even crying a little bit because its how you manipulate him, he's a sucker for your tears after all. "Do you want to break up with me?" you cry at him.

He rushes to your side, holding your head in his hands and wiping your tears softly, "No baby, of course not. I love you so much. I'm sorry I should've just came home so you wouldn't have had to worry." It's 2am and his phone is on the ground shattered, his body still holds the weight of the harsh slaps and pushes, yet he holds you as you cry.

You nod, agreeing with him. "You love me?" you ask pouting up at him.

"I do. I won't ever let my phone die again I'm sorry" he promises like he always does, always making and trying to upkeep the most outlandish promises if it meant making you happy.

You flash him a sweet smile and pull him into a hug that he quickly reciprocates. "It's okay Rafey, I forgive you. Im sorry about your phone"

He pulls back, smiling down at you, relieved that you’re back to your normal self again. "Don't be princess, I'll buy another, get you an upgrade too huh?"

[kerubimcrepin]

LIVEREAD: WAKFU, THE GREAT WAVE [TOME 1, Chapters 1-3]

I want to preemptively say that I wasn't the biggest fan of The Great Wave, while reading it originally. It had less to do with the contents of the comic, and more with the pacing — it's written in a very... webtoon-unfriendly way. Every week I'd wait, and then not much would happen.

I am hoping it will be less exhausting to read this comic this time, but there just isn't a lot that happens in it. It's quite sad, really.

Now that I am done with the "hey, I am not the biggest fan of the way this was executed, at least in this tome" warning, I want to say that I actually really like the idea of a tragic story. Like fuck yesss. With all the amount of foreshadowing we got, we deserve to see how Yugo's good intentions are going to bring disaster.

I will be honest, the day this dropped I went to discord and everyone was screaming "THEY ADDED PORN TO WAKFU" and then when I was finally able to read the comic after someone finally pirated and sent it to me, I saw the world's shortest scene of intimacy between a married couple.

Normal world.

Anyway: STOP FUCKING WHILE WEARING THE WORLD-ENDING MAGICAL NUKES ON YOU.

Hey chat! This reminds me of a very poggers thing I had said a while before this manga realeased:

You have no fucking idea how bigly I won. And this isn't even the last win of mine in this manga. No, I just keep winning and winning. Please, Tot Ankama, I beg you through whatever psychic link we have: do this thing you did to Yugo to Joris too. He deserves it.

In the future, I will be liveblogging myself reading the entire tomes too; instead of making small posts, as the comic releases chapter by chapter.

One of the reasons why? I love writing this post, while knowing full-well that these are Grougalorasalar's words.

MAN, I predicted Grougalorasalar using emotionally manipulative language that's pretty much "you're a fraud, you're amoral, DIE" in nightmarish visions sent to people ages before this manga happened, in my fanfic. And I was so giddy — because I love the idea of 'Salar torturing people like that, and because it means I got something right without having too much data to back it up!

First Joris war criminal arc, then Salar emotional abuse via nightmare visions arc... How is my taste so similar to Tot's??

I think it's very funny for Salar to be moralizing now. My brother in crepinjurgening, you were trying to resurrect your lizard son by shattering his soul forever and bringing him unimaginable suffering so that you can go commit more war crimes together?

Then again, his war crimes had virtually no chance of ending the world. I suppose it's natural for a Black Fire dragon to understand the sort of danger Yugo presents — the fact that they may all end up the same way the Necro world is...

I guess his morals are as weird as Joris's (world ending = bad, war crimes = sometimes good if they do those themselves?). Similarities are only to be expected, since they influenced and changed one-another irrevocably.

this shuoild happen to joris too. pleask.

LITERALLY IT'S SO FUNNY. HE'S SEEN THIS SORTA SHIT HAPPEN AGAIN AND AGAIN AND IS STILL GOING DOWN THAT ROUTE. BRO? 😭

Somehow I really doubt that Grougalorasalar's involvement in this situation is going to improve it in any way.

"I am the black dragon Grougalorasalar and I am going to save the world" ok and flowers can sing, and the world is made of pudding. Get a grip.

[twirling my hair around my fingers, giggling cutely] A shadow you say? This reminds me of Dofus MMO lore :3

I've seen people be upset at there being bigotry towards Eliatropes, but really — this has been coming since season 2. You've seen what a shitshow the idea of another class appearing caused back then.

Maybe it's my "knowing too much about hupperage oppression lore" and "knowing just a little bit about ouginak oppression lore" bias kicking in, but I'm not surprised? Eh?

THEY MULTIPLIED?!

Guys I don't think they're happy.

Originally this made me giggle: "ohh, is Joris going to have to choose between Bonta and his friendship with Yugo, in the future tomes of this manga? I wonder what he will choose, tee-hee."

But ngl, considering the fact that Joris has already demonstrated choosing Yugo over Bonta in season 4, and has been implied to be at odds with the government of Bonta during some ages, and downright opposed in others — I think we know the answer.

Literally not how it would work in real life. Even if Aurora has the right to inherit the throne in some way, her father is completely unrelated to that. He shouldn't even be here — if Aurora has the right to inherit the throne, it means she was made a member of the Sheran-Sharm family, and is no longer a part of her original family, because— [STARTS FOAMING AT THE MOUTH FROM ANGER]

[mmurazz]

Love on Act. lhs

previous. | main. | next.

note. special uploud because today is heeseung's birthday!! happy 23rd birthday heeseung!! all engenes wish you all the best, oh and yes this is a bit of a fast part because i'm trying to find ways to finish this but hopefully i can, thanks to for those who enjoyed, taglist is still opened!

YOU SAT THERE, ALONE ONCE AGAIN. Heeseung is gone, and you're just left with your own thoughts, thoughts about how your relationship isn't real, and how you'll have to keep up the act. It makes you feel so sad, and your heart hurts from the weight of it all. You lie down on the bed, and continue to cry silently, feeling completely alone. As you lie there, you think about how this marriage is just a business deal for both of you. All you need to do is to act in front of other people, and be the ideal, loving couple. But you can't help feeling sad that Heeseung doesn't love you, and that this marriage is just an act. It makes you feel so hurt and alone..

The gossip you heard replays in your head "Their marriage will only last a few months.." "They don't love each other..." "Their relationship will only last two months..." "They'll divorce even before that." You can't help but think about how it's all true, and you find yourself crying even harder from thinking about the possibility of your relationship ending soon.. Every time you try to stop crying, more and more tears just pour out, until you can't stop yourself from sobbing. You feel like your heart is breaking, and you're completely alone. You feel so hopeless, and you don't know what to do.. All these thoughts just make you cry even harder, and finally, exhaustion takes over your body. You slowly fall asleep, still lying in bed alone, crying softly..

You dream of a happier life, where you and Heeseung truly love each other, but when you wake up, you realize that it's just a dream, and you feel an ache in your heart. You realize that no matter how much you wish for it, the truth is, Heeseung doesn't love you, and that your relationship is just a business deal.  

Will the wishing star help her..? Does her wish come true when the shooting star appears..? Let's find out in a few more days

You feel exhausted from all the crying, and the weight of the thoughts running through your head. In an attempt to cope with how you're feeling, you fall asleep again, but the thoughts of your false relationship come rushing back to you in your dreams. You dream of how you and Heeseung truly love each other. You feel warmth and happiness in your dream, but then you wake up, the dream leaving a void in your already shattered heart. You realize that that kind of a relationship will never happen... All you can do is to act like a good, loving, doting wife in front of people. The realization makes you feel so lonely and lost. It's too hard for you to bear the truth, so you just stay in bed, feeling trapped in your own unhappiness. You feel so much pain, knowing that you'll never have a real relationship with Heeseung, and that you'll always have to act in front of others, showing them your 'happy relationship'. 

You're left alone in your bed, with these overwhelming thoughts, as the reality hits you like a wave. No amount of wishing and hoping is going to change anything, and what is happening between you and Heeseung is all a lie. You feel so trapped, with nowhere to go, so you just stay in bed, crying silently, and wishing that things were different.. 

Eventually, sleep takes over your body again, and you drift off into a deep slumber. But even in your dreams, you're left feeling alone and broken, haunted by thoughts of the lies that your relationship is built on. You keep on having terrible dreams, and it feels like you can never have peace, even in your dreams. The weight of everything is too much to bear, and you can't help but feel like you're falling deeper and deeper into sadness and loneliness. You feel like you're stuck in a dark tunnel with no exit, only filled with pain and despair. 

THE NEXT MORNING, You woke up, your eyes red and puffy, but you have to put on a fake smile and act like nothing is wrong. You make breakfast for Heeseung, as the good 'wife' that you are, but inside you're still hurting from everything that has happened. You prepare the table, setting it with plates and utensils for breakfast. Your heart is heavy, but you have to pretend like everything's fine, even though you're hurting inside. This is your first taste of 'being a wife', even though your marriage is just a business deal for the both of you. “Heeseung..! Breakfast is ready..” you called him.

Heeseung comes in, and sits down at the table, he takes a look at you, and speaks,

"You seem tired, did you have trouble sleeping?" He asks, sounding a bit concerned. He doesn't know (partly) that you were actually crying in bed last night. 

“Y-yea I couldn’t sleep well last night.. but that's fine! Don’t worry about it”  you reassured him, not wanting to make a situation in the morning.

Heeseung looks at you for a moment, before speaking,

"You sure? You don't have to act brave in front of me, you know.. I can tell if you're tired." He says, his tone sounds a bit concerned, though it's hard to tell if he's pretending. He really cares about his business reputation, so he acts concerned to some extent. 

You force a smile and reassure him, saying, "I'm good, don't worry."

You try to hide your true feelings, but Heeseung knows you're not completely fine. He can tell that you're exhausted, but he doesn't press further, he just sits down and has his breakfast. You feel so alone and trapped, even though Heeseung is sitting in front of you, it feels like you're miles apart from each other. You both eat breakfast in silence, the sound of your heart breaking is so loud, even louder than the quiet sound of the utensils. All you can think about is how your marriage is a lie, and that you have to act in front of everyone to make it look real. You can't even fully enjoy the breakfast you made. The awkward silence continues as you both finish your breakfast, but you don't leave yet. You stay, acting in the 'wife' role, and make sure to clean up after him, even though you feel so sad and hurt inside. 

You clean up after Heeseung, washing the dishes and putting away the leftovers. Even though you're doing these chores, you feel so distant from Heeseung, like there's an invisible wall between the both of you, no matter how physically close you are. You finish cleaning up, but even though you spent some time with Heeseung, you still feel so alone and unloved. You're still trapped in this fake marriage, with no way out. Your heart feels so heavy with despair, but you have to hold all these feelings inside. You try to keep a smile on your face, but inside you're hurting so much. You realize that this will probably be your everyday life from now on -- cooking for Heeseung, cleaning up after him, and acting as the ideal wife even though it's all fake. The loneliness is almost unbearable, and you just feel so hopeless. Even though you're physically close to Heeseung, you feel a thousand miles away from him. You wish you could escape all these responsibilities, but you know that as a 'wife', these are your duties, and you have to fulfill them no matter what. Weeks pass, and you continue your daily routine. You cook for Heeseung, clean up after him, and act like the perfect wife, even though inside you feel dead. You hide your true feelings, pretending like everything's okay, but you're dying inside… You try hard not to make mistakes, because every time you do, you get lectured by Heeseung. He's always telling you to improve, to be better, to be perfect. It's exhausting, but you have no choice but to keep up with it all...

cpyrght. @mmurazz

tglst. @mheretoreadff @lovestruck-sky @orimuraa

[normal-internet-user]

GROW UP

♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡

Summary: You and Raph get into an argument about your lack of emotional communication.

Warnings: shouting, crying, angst hurt to comfort.

Requested: N/A

GN Reader!

....................................

You took in a deep breath as you stepped into the Lair, smiling tightly as Mikey pulled you in for his usual sunshine hug.

"Hey there, 'Angelo." you said, patting him on the head, as you walked away to find Raph.

You knocked lightly on the wall next to his curtain before pulling aside the cloth to enter his room.

"Hey, Red." You said, kissing him on the cheek.

"Hey, sweetcheeks." he turned to face you fully, his brows furrowing in concern as he looked at your face, "What's wrong? You look upset."

You shook your head, smiling, "I'm fine." you said, trying to drop the subject.

Raph took your face in his hands, "No you aren't, I can tell. So talk to me, babe."

You pulled away with a groan, "I'm fine, Raph, can we just drop it?"

Raph huffed, grabbing your hand gently as you turned away from him, "No, not until I know what's bothering you!"

You closed your eyes tightly, looking away from Raph as your fathers words from earlier today echoed in your head, "Grow up! You have nothing to be sad about, there are people who have it worse, so get over yourself!"

"Raph." You growled, "Drop. It."

Raph sighed, frustrated, "Why won't you just tell me-?"

"YOU WANNA KNOW WHY?" You shouted, turning to face him with tears in your eyes, "BECAUSE I'M SCARED, RAPH! I'M SCARED THAT IF I TELL YOU WHATS WRONG, YOU'LL JUST TELL ME TO GET OVER MYSELF LIKE EVERYONE ELSE I'VE EVER OPENED UP TO! THAT-," your voice cracked and your body shook, "T-that you'll just tell me to grow up."

You sobbed, furiously trying to wipe away those stupid tears. God you hated crying, and infront of Raph? Really?

Why couldn't you just stop? Just STOP!

You were practically rubbing your eyes raw trying to stop the tears before Raph took your hands in his own.

"I would never do that to you." He said softly, "Never in a million years."

You sniffled, your face scrunching, "I-I just wish people, listened to me. My whole life I was told that children are to be seen and not heard, no one ever took my emotions seriously."

You sobbed again, burying your face in Raph's plastron, "I was j-just that overly emotional nobody, until I stopped. I stopped crying, I stopped feeling. I stopped so no one else had to. I don't cry, so my siblings can."

Raph felt his heart shattering as you spoke, he didn't know. He never knew...

"I don't know how to talk about it, Raph. I-I can't. I haven't needed to in so long, I just push it all down and it goes away. It didn't go away this t-time, wHY didn't it go away?"

Raph pulled you close as you cried, he rested his head atop yours, "It doesn't just go away, (Name). It never does. It takes a long time, sometimes you need to talk about it. I'm always here to talk about it if you need to."

"B-but, I don't want to be a burden-"

"Nuh-uh, none of that. look at me, hun." Raph held your face gently, smiling softly at you, "You will never, ever be a burden to me. Ever. Don't you even think that, got it?"

You nodded, leaning into his hands, "Can you hold me? Please?" you begged quietly, face stained with tears.

"Of course, sweetcheeks. Raph's got ya'."

Raph picked you up easily, carrying you over to his bed where he set you down gently. He sat next to you, leaning back against the headboard as he pulled you into his lap.

He then pulled a blanket over the two of you, kissing you softly on top of your head as you slowly drifted off from exhaustion.

Since you were sleeping, you weren't aware of his brothers coming to check on you, asking Raph softly if you would be fine.

Raph reassured them that you would be ok, you just needed a little help emotionally.

"Don't worry, bros, Raph's got this covered."

....................................

I'm on a roll huh? Don't worry I got more fics coming soon!

[meadowziplines]

Hiii. For the WIP ask game, can I ask about the old lie?

this is pain eater dream, with a tentative title from Dulce et decorum est by Wilfred Owen! Dream has the ability to heal people by absorbing their pain and it just makes him progressively sicker if he's not granted respite. except there's a scandal, and Dream's packed off to the war front, where he's certain to meet his death trying to heal everyone.

it's almost done actually. it's at 6460 words and I'm writing/editing the last couple of scenes at the moment. it has so much angst and Tragic Backstory! but also caretaking and hurt/comfort and a happy/hopeful ending :)

I am snippeting from toward the end (read more for length)

Warmth surrounded Dream, and far-off voices spoke in quiet streams of tumbling sentences. The warmth was fuzzy and foreign but welcome nonetheless. Air curled in tendrils across his face, and the scent of countless flowers – sweet and crisp – and petrichor, damp earth and loam, flowed into his nostrils. The air was clean, untouched by war and death.

His limbs were heavy, and he could not raise his head, but he thought perhaps he should open his eyes. The reek of blood and decay, despair coating the inside of his mouth, knees sunk into the muddy ground, and Hob prone before him – the last things he remembered told him he should not be warm and breathing pleasantly-scented air.

Yet his eyelids remained glued shut, and he struggled to pry them open even a crack. A faint noise escaped his lips, and a different kind of warmth touched his face, plough-calloused fingers that danced up his face into his hair, with words that curled into his ears. 

Dream? Dream, dove, can you hear me? It's Hob – 

Hob. Dream tried to speak, but his throat was sandpapery dry, and all that came out was a croak that hurt his throat, before he succeeded in unsticking his eyelids just a crack. 

"You're doing so well, Dream." Hob's voice drifted into his ears. "Your body is healing; you don't have to get up yet. Just rest." 

He wanted to look upon Hob, find out what had happened, but he was still so tired. Exhausted by the effort of opening his eyes, his senses faded again.

****

"Hob?" 

Hob whirled in the meadows of Fiddler's Green, noticing how dark it was. Little dotted lights floated among the shrubbery and grass, and the stars drowned the night sky, illuminating it bright and bedazzling and draping the meadow in a veil of silver light.

None of it held a candle to Dream, staring wide-eyed at Hob, eyes glowing; they were lambent and lit with stars. "Dream? You shouldn't be up yet, dove." 

" I think we are in a dream," his lover said. He wore the shift Gilbert had dressed him in, feet still bare. "I do not know how. My magic has never done this." 

"Your eyes are full of stars." 

"They have never done that before, either." 

"Dream," Hob finally choked, and lurched forward, some part of him desperate to hold Dream, another half-convinced that if he touched Dream, his lover would shatter into stardust. 

"Hob…" Dream looked down, voice tinged with sadness and regret. A touch of anger, too. "You should not have done what you did for me."

"Why not? You were dying."

"I – you deserted, Hob. For one person. And I – I am not – good."

"I am selfish and greedy, Dream, and I want what I want. I wanted you, and do not have idealized notions of our army, and so I abandoned them with you. Who the fuck told you you weren't worth it?" 

Dream laughed, humorlessly. "Everyone. And they were right. The only valuable thing about me, my healing – I failed to save someone important, and so even that wasn't useful anymore." 

"Fuck that," Hob snapped, and finally closed the distance. "You matter to me. That can be enough for now." 

"I do not understand," Dream whispered, as Hob crushed him in an embrace.

"You don't have to yet," Hob said. 

[dinoace2]

Things Left Unsaid

Cute sad moments is how I cope ok

1.2k words of soft Aziracrow angst

s2 spoilers!

~~~~~~

Crowley paced the shelves of the bookshop. He always did. If there was nothing else to do, then he would spend his days looking over the dragon's hoard of literature that built up over the past millenia or so. Why was he there anyway? Perhaps waiting for something? But Heaven knows - no, he knows - that what he's hoping for isn't going to return.

The new guardian of the shop found this to be a normal occurrence now. She would watch the demon wander aimlessly for hours at a time, keeping an eye out for nothing at all.

Muriel occasionally brought him pastries and to-go coffees, by Nina's recommendation, so that he wasn't walking a marathon indoors on an empty stomach.

After far too long of walking toward an unattainable destination - onlookers could argue he'd carved a groove in the hardwood floor of the path he'd followed - his legs led him to the chair of Aziraphale's desk in the bookshop's study.

They collapsed beneath him as he finally sat, the overworked limbs numb from use. Now that he was still, he was exhausted. His whole body felt heavy, weighed down nearly equally by fatigue and sorrow. His eyelids were heavy, and after a moments' hesitation, he let them close.

The door's bells chimed, not necessarily uncommon for this time of day, but the footsteps that followed made their way...right to him.

"...Crowley..."

The demon froze and his eyes shot open, now quite awake and very aware of his surroundings.

He scrambled to his feet, pulling his glasses off his face, hoping this wasn't some sort of trick of the lighting.

He reached out, tentatively, as if the being in front of him were to shatter or vanish at his touch.

"Angel?"

Aziraphale gently took hold of his outstretched hand, his crystal blue eyes gazing lovingly at Crowley.

He took a breath, then opened his mouth to speak. "Crowley, i-"

Nothing else got through. The angel was cut off, his lips interrupted as the demon pulled him into a tender embrace, and an even gentler kiss.

This one was different than the last time.

Last time was rough, aggressive...afraid. a desperate pull, a final plea for Aziraphale to see things from Crowley's perspective. Begging him not to leave.

But this one?

Both angel and demon were clinging to one another with the same level of need. The same want, the same desire. The same mournful feeling of having missed the other for so long. Crowley's fingers curled in the hair at the nape of Aziraphale's neck, and Aziraphale, still quite unsure what to do, rested his hands on Crowley's back.

The kiss broke breathlessly, the pair leaning their foreheads together. Neither dared to break contact with the other, lest his beloved vanish before him. As long as they could feel one another, they would remain. As long as they held each other, they were real.

Aziraphale reached up, gently swiping tears off the demon's cheeks with his thumbs. "Please don't cry, Crowley..." he whispered.

Crowley shook his head, reaching up to hold the angel's hand against his cheek. "I...i didn't think you would come back..."

"I'm so, so sorry, Crowley, I really am," Aziraphale said gently, looking up at him. "I was so...overwhelmed by heaven's offer...and...i...I really did think I would be able to make a difference. I thought that...together, I - we could..."

"Doesn't matter," Crowley muttered, pulling his angel into a tight hug. "Because you're back. You're here. We're together again. And-" he took a shaky breath. "I can tell you what I wanted to say before..."

He stepped back, taking both of Aziraphale's hands into his own. He breathed steadily through his nose, gazing intently into his eyes. Those eyes he missed so much, those eyes that, no matter what else changed over time, were always the same gorgeous sapphire shade. No matter what happened, he knew his angel would stay the same.

"Aziraphale...i- ngk-" his voice caught in his throat, and he took another breath. "I'll spare you the dramatics. I think I used 'em all up last time anyway." He let out a weak chuckle. "...i...I love you, Aziraphale. I don't know how long I have, maybe always, but I need to say it now. You're the only thing I know I can count on. You're everything to me, and you always have been. You were my first, only, and best friend, and my heart broke when I thought i lost that. It's unfortunate that it's taken this long for me to say so, I know...but...we have the rest of, well, forever, to try and figure this out. And no matter what comes..." he squeezed their hands. "We can do it together."

As he spoke, Aziraphale's eyes welled with tears, and for the second time in existence, he found himself completely speechless. He reached up and kissed his demon once more, pouring his entire heart into their embrace. He didn't know what to say, he couldn't find the words. The depth and feeling of everything he could never tell was coming out through his actions now, or at least he'd hoped so.

When they parted for breath, he hugged him tightly. His entire body was shaking as the tears spilled over his cheeks, feeling too overwhelmed to say everything he wanted. After a long moment, he finally pulled himself together enough to whisper, "I love you too, Crowley."

They held each other for a long time, neither wanting to let go.

"Crowley...?"

"Yeah?"

"Crowley...."

"I heard you, angel...what is it?"

"Mister Crowley, are you okay?"

"...why are you talking like that, what's going on?" He opened his eyes.

Muriel stood over him, shaking his shoulder gently. "Mister Crowley, you're crying...you were sleeping..."

The demon sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes. He was still at the desk. Still sitting. His legs still burned from walking so much. Tears blurred his vision and he felt like he couldn't breathe. He felt like everything was shaking. Muriel studied his expression intently. "...are you alright?"

Crowley let out a long sigh, putting his glasses back on and lightly pushing her aside as he stood up. "Im fine."

The young angel looked at him worriedly, while he made his way to the shop's door. "Where are you going?"

He sneered, pushing open the door with a familiar ding. "I need a drink."

‐

The Archangel Aziraphale looked at the square, a little window to Earth that he couldn't quite call a screen. His vision blurred with tears and his shoulders shook as he watched Crowley empty another glass.

They'd been apart like this before, but...this time he felt further away than they ever had been in six thousand years.

Due to his new assignment, he couldn't leave Heaven...no matter how much he wanted to.

He'd remembered stories through history where angels visited in dreams, and he wanted to try. It worked, but not nearly as long as he had hoped it would.

He didn't get to say what he wanted to. It always seemed to work out like that. His heart ached with everything he couldn't say. "Im so sorry, Crowley...."

He sighed, closing the 'window' and slumping down in his desk. "If only I could've asked you to forgive me..."

He choked back a sob and held his head, the angel's cries echoing in the empty, endless halls of what humans called paradise.

~~~~~~

Thanks for reading! :]

[snonkerdoodlewritesstuff]

Hey.

I'm not gonna ask how you are, because I know how you are. At least, I think I do. I don't know if I want myself to be true.

When you...left...I'm not sure whether left is the right word, actually. The horror of what happened...the horror of what you did to me...is something that can't be described with words. My soul was ripped apart. My heart shattered into a million pieces. My soul was wounded. My life ended when you went away from me.

And...even after all of that...I hope you're okay, my love. I really do. You...I don't think you could help it. If only we talked to each other. If only we worked things out before IT happened...maybe this wouldn't've been such a bad thing.

At any rate, I want to tell you something. Something that I never told you before, and now definitely won't ever get the chance to.

I loved you. When you would smile the way you did in the sun and we would sneak off together to do things we should'nt've been doing, I loved you. When you would marvel at little things like flowers and hummingbirds and nightingales, I loved you. I've always loved you, from the moment I met you.

I love you. I love you, even now that you're gone, even now that I'm nothing but a pile of broken pieces and memories. I love you, even though they all dragged you away from me, so that I could never embrace you again, and never have the chance to call you mind. Even after all that, I still love you.

I will always love you. Even though I'll never see you again--not for a long while, at the least--I will always love you. There doesn't seem to be anybody else for me, because my heart was yours the moment I set eyes on you. It's always you, my love. Always you...

And lastly, I will miss you. I will miss the way you were a fucking diva all the time. I'll miss the way you were so rude to anyone who crossed you. I'll miss your smiles, the way you saw the world, the way...the way you looked when you were happy, or sad, or anything really. You're fucking beautiful, sweetheart.

This letter can be read from 3 perspectives:

Crowley to Aziraphale after Good Omens season 2.

John Watson to Sherlock Holmes after Sherlock season 2. 🧐

Blade Ranger to Nick Loopin' Lopez after the crash.

There are 3 more lines to add as well for each:

He let out a sigh laden with a thousand years' worth of exhaustion and

took a look around the bookshop--his bookshop now, that Aziraphale had found it in him to abandon it. He didn't know why he stayed, given the pain it caused him, but leaving would somehow make it worse. Sinking low into the cushions of the couch, he took a swig from his bottle.

sank back into the chair, facing the other one that should've been filled with a lanky man and his stupid curly hair and stupid angelic face. His vision blurred in and out of focus from the lack of sleep--he knew that if he gave in now he would only wake up to the words, "Goodbye, John" ringing in his ears.

sank low onto his landing gear, staring at the picture of his one-- and it seemed only--love. It didn't matter how many years it had been since the accident; a part Blade was and would always belong to Nick. Looking around at the scene of the base, he headed back to his cliff, parking a little ways from the edge to keep watch over the park for lightning storms. He fought fires now. He saved lives for real. After all, that's all he could do at this point, wasn't it?

So sorry if the ending seems rushed on any of them but constructive criticism would be appreciated! Thank you for reading this!

[bat-mom-writer]

How Was School?

Reader(Mom) X little Richard (Dick) Grayson(Son)

Summry: Bruce brings home Dick Grayson, and he isn't really happy being here. What will it take for him to start opening up? For you to get an accident of course! Enjoy!

Note: This could be Part 1 of Nightmare Refuge

(I do not own any DC characters)

She sat in the armchair beside the bedroom window, her eyes scanning the pages of a book she had picked up from the library that afternoon. The words danced before her eyes, but her thoughts kept drifting to the day's events. The sun had painted the sky with strokes of orange and pink, giving way to a gentle dusk that wrapped the city in a soft embrace. She heard the distant hum of the city, the occasional honk of a car, and the chirping of birds settling in for the night.

The quiet was shattered by the sound of tires screeching against the pavement, and her heart skipped a beat. She knew that sound all too well—it was the unmistakable growl of the black limousine that Bruce used when he was in his other life. She set the book down, her heart racing as she hurried to the front door. This couldn't be a social call. Bruce had been gone for hours, and the urgency of the situation was clear in the way the car had pulled up.

As she reached the door, it swung open to reveal Bruce's shadowy figure, his jaw tight and eyes focused. And beside him, dressed in a simple orphanage uniform with a backpack slung over his shoulder, was a small, trembling boy.

"You must be Richard," she said, her voice gentle as she crouched down to the boy's level. He looked up at her with wide, haunted eyes, and she could see the fear and uncertainty in them. "I'm Bruce's wife, it's a pleasure to meet you."

The boy nodded stiffly but said nothing, his hands clutching the straps of his backpack as if it was his only source of comfort. She could sense his wariness, the tension coiled in his small frame. He didn't know her, didn't trust her, and she couldn't blame him. Being ripped from the only life he had ever known and brought into a mansion filled with strangers was bound to be overwhelming.

"Alfred, would you be so kind and show Richard his room?" Her eyes searched for Alfred, their long-time butler and confidant He stepped forward, a gentle smile on his lips. "Of course, Ms.," he said, his voice as comforting as a warm blanket. "Welcome to your new home, young master Grayson. I'll make sure you're well settled."

With Alfred's comforting arm around him, Dick followed, his gaze darting around the grand foyer, taking in the opulence of the mansion that was now, somehow, his home. She watched them ascend the staircase, her mind racing with thoughts of how she would help him adjust to this new life.

Turning to Bruce, who was still standing in the doorway, she could see the exhaustion etched on his face. His jaw was tight, and his eyes were filled with a mix of determination and sadness. He had made this choice to bring Dick into their lives, and she knew it was not a decision made lightly. She approached him and placed a hand on his arm.

"I'm sure he'll warm up to us." she offered, her voice soft and understanding.

Bruce nodded, his eyes never leaving the spot where Dick had disappeared upstairs. "I hope so," he said, his voice gruff. "I can't bear to think of him going through what I did."

Several weeks go by, and Dick started in school again. She made it a point to always be there when he came home. She'd have a snack ready for him, something simple and comforting like apple slices with peanut butter, or a warm plate of cookies and milk. She'd ask him about his day, trying to coax him out of his silence, but he'd just shrug and mumble something non-committal before retreating to his room. She understood his reticence; he was grieving for his old life, and she and Bruce were the embodiment of everything that had changed.

"I just don't know what to do, Bruce." she said into the phone, her voice tight with worry. "He's so quiet, so closed off. It's like he's just…existing." the engine of her car purring softly in the background as she drove home from her afternoon shopping trip.

"Give it time," Bruce's voice was measured, his patience a testament to his own tumultuous past. "He's been through a lot, and he needs to learn to trust us."

"I know," she replied, her grip tightening on the steering wheel. "But I can't help but feel like I failing him."

Bruce sighed heavily into the phone. "You're not failing him. You're giving him a home, a safe place. That's more than I had."

She nodded, her eyes misting up as she swiped at an errant tear. "I just wish he knew that."

"He will," Bruce assured her. "But we can't force it. He'll come around when he's ready."

The conversation with Bruce lingered in her mind as she navigated the city streets, her thoughts swirling like the leaves caught in the autumn breeze. She knew he was right, but the weight of their new responsibility felt heavier than ever. Dick's silence was a constant reminder of the gap that lay between them, and she yearned to bridge it.

Suddenly, without warning, a blur of headlights and the screech of tires pierced the night. Her heart jumped to her throat as she saw a car barreling towards her. She slammed on the brakes, but it was too late. The world spun into chaos as metal crunched against metal, and the airbag exploded in her face with a deafening bang. The car skidded to a halt, the force of the impact jolting her body and leaving her ears ringing.

A few hours later, at Wayne Manor, Dick stepped out the black car that had brought him home from school, his school bag slung over one shoulder. The house loomed before him, a stark contrast to the warm, welcoming sight he had hoped for. The grandiose architecture felt more like a fortress than a home, and he couldn't shake the feeling of being a stranger in his own life.

He approached the front door, the same one he had first stepped through weeks ago, and paused. The usual warm glow of lights was absent from the windows, and a quiet had settled over the property that seemed unnaturally thick. Dick's stomach churned with unease as he reached for the handle, expecting to be greeted her gentle voice.

But when he stepped inside, the foyer was eerily empty.

"Hello?" Dick called out tentatively, his voice echoing off the marble floors and high ceilings. No response.

He set his school bag down and made his way to the kitchen, where he knew she often liked to spend her afternoons, baking cookies or preparing dinner. Only Alfred was in there, his usual calm demeanor replaced with a taut expression that told Dick something was wrong.

"Oh, master Dick," Alfred said, turning from the stove with a forced smile. "Welcome home. Is there anything I can get you?"

Dick's eyes searched the room, avoiding Alfred's gaze. "Uh, no, Alfred I'm fine," he mumbled, his voice cracking slightly. "I just happened to notice that she wasn't at the door when I come in."

Alfred's smile wavered, and he set down the spatula he'd been holding. "I'm afraid there's been an accident, young master." The words hit Dick like a punch to the gut. "Mrs. Wayne was involved in a car crash earlier today."

Dick's eyes widened in shock, and the room seemed to tilt around him. "Is she okay?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

"She's quite alright," Alfred assured him, his eyes filled with a warmth that seemed to defy the gravity of the situation. "Mr. Wayne is with her at the hospital now. They're both shaken, but no serious injuries."

The relief washed over Dick like a wave, but it was quickly followed by a swirl of guilt. She had been trying so hard to be there for him, and he had barely said a word to her.

"Alright," he managed to croak out, his throat tight. "Alfred, might you drive me to the hospital?"

"Of course, young master." Alfred's expression remained composed, but Dick could see the concern in his eyes. They hurried to the garage, where Alfred helped him into the backseat of the car. As they sped through the streets of Gotham, Dick couldn't shake the image of her lying in a hospital bed.

The ride to the hospital felt like an eternity. The neon lights of the city blurred past the tinted windows, casting an eerie glow over the leather interior. Dick's stomach churned with a mix of fear and regret. He hadn't had the chance to tell her how much he appreciated her efforts, or how much he had grown to rely on her quiet, steadfast presence in his life.

When they arrived, the hospital was a maze of white corridors and the sterile scent of antiseptic. Alfred led Dick to the right wing, where she had been taken. His heart hammered in his chest with each step closer to her room, and he couldn't ignore the sinking feeling that maybe he had pushed her away too much.

They entered to find her sitting up in bed, a bandage wrapped around her forehead and a bruise already forming on her cheek. Despite the injuries, she looked beautiful to Dick, her eyes lighting up when she saw him.

"Dick, sweetie, you're here," she said, her voice weak but filled with love.

Dick's eyes searched hers, looking for any hint of pain or distress. "How are you?" He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to touch hers, but he pulled back at the last second, not wanting to cause her any more discomfort.

"I'm okay," she replied, her voice stronger than Dick expected. "Just a little bump on the head." She managed a weak smile, but the shadows under her eyes revealed her ordeal.

Dick felt his own eyes sting with unshed tears. He hadn't realized until this moment just how much she meant to him. She had become his anchor in a world that still felt like it was spinning out of control.

"I'll go and find you some food," Bruce said, arising from his chair. "Alfred, would you come with me?"

Alone with her, Dick felt his throat tighten. He wanted to say so much, but the words remained stubbornly lodged in his chest. He hovered by the bedside, unsure of what to do next. she patted the space beside her, and he sat down gingerly, his hands in his lap.

"How was school?" she asked, her voice a gentle probe into his silent world. Dick felt the sting of unshed tears at the back of his eyes. Despite her own pain and fear, she was still concerned about his day. He nodded, not trusting his voice.

"It…uh… it was good," he finally choked out. "Thanks for…for always asking." The words hung in the air, thick with unspoken emotion.

Her smile grew, the corners of her eyes crinkling with warmth. Sliding her hand into Dick's, she says, "Always," gently squeezing his hand.

[hongmingoo]

Untitled,

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x reader

Synopsis: Nothing could have ever prepared Wonwoo for this. Nothing. Those six months of preparation couldn't even help him stand on his feet now. His world has crumbled, shattered– destroyed beyond repair. 

Inspired by: I can't run away | SEVENTEEN HHU, In the stars | Benson Boone

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: MINORS DNI | Major character death, critical ilness, heavy angst, very slight mention of suicide, mental illness, self loathe, hurt. Let me know if i miss anything.

Today is another day of him walking through the day in mute, like a zombie. Wake up, cold shower, coffee, go to work, came home, ate dinner at Joshua's and went home to sleep. Before sleep, he washed up, and sat up at his desk to write a journal. To keep his sanity. His fingers caressed a photo of you, hidden in between the pages. 

Without warning, his tears fall yet again. He doesn't even remember when was the last time he could fully smile. His heart broke at the sight of you, his dearest, in a pale yellow summer dress, smiling so brightly while staring at the sun. Wonwoo wept, with all his heart until he fell asleep on the desk from exhaustion.

…

"Wonwoo-yah. I really appreciate you loving my sister this much. But you being like this broke my heart to pieces. Let her go, Wonwoo. It has been 5 years since she passed. I don't think Y/n would've wanted to see you in pain like this. Please, talk to us," Joshua, his brother-in-law said, his voice cracking a bit.They were in the middle of drinking. It was their weekly routine. 

Wonwoo raised his head to look up at him. He saw that tears were filling the waterline in his eyes. His lips turned up a bit in a sad smile. 

"I can't," the younger man croaked, his clenched fist raised in the air before punching at his chest weakly. Wonwoo choked on his own sobs before he broke down completely, for the nth time. 

His mind brought him back to the memory of 5 years ago.

He was still blissfully resting in your arms. But somehow, you looked restless. There was something on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn't bring yourself to say it. Of course, he noticed this so he asked you what was wrong.

"Do you remember that I said that I was going for a check up at the hospital last week? Because I collapsed the day before," you asked.

"Yeah. What about it?" He replied, looking up at you with loving eyes. You took a deep shuddering breath, and that somehow alerted him that he's going to hear something that he won't like. 

"I was diagnosed with cancer. The same one that killed my mom. And they're already in my backbone…" you uttered and Wonwoo felt like his gut had been punched very strongly. His ears are ringing and his breath hitches. When he doesn't reply, you added,

"The doctors predicted that I'll only have 6-12 months at most due to how fast they're progressing. I- I'm sorry, Won" you broke down, pulling him into your embrace when you see the broken expression plastered across his beautiful face. 

"Why are you sorry? It's not your fault, it's just–" he choked on his tears too, holding onto you so tightly. 

What he said was true, it wasn't your fault. None of these are. But somehow it felt like it was. You never want to make him cry, never want to be the reason for his sadness and misery. But, not telling him about this news just to avoid seeing him sad would be unfair to him. Wonwoo is your husband, your lover. He deserves to know. After all, it takes two sides to make a relationship work. 

"Let's try everything we can okay? Every possible treatment available. Every therapy, and every remedy we can find. You'll be with me all along the way, right?" You assured, trying desperately to lighten up the heavy air between the two of you. 

Your small hands cups his beautiful face, gently wiping away the tears that cascading down his soft skin. 

"I love you, Wonwoo. So so much" 

"I love you too, Y/n. Please don't leave me"

As promised, you guys tried every possible treatment you can, and you stayed strong through it all, no matter how painful it is for you. Wonwoo could see how battered your small body got after every chemo, but you still smiled so sweetly at him. It made him feel guilty at some point to see you hurting like that. But he's a selfish man. He wants you to be with him forever. He doesn't want you to leave him. Even though he painfully knows that you dying would mean you won't be hurting anymore.

It's in the middle of the fourth month that you collapsed again, and this time it takes you 2 attempts at CPR and 24 hours to regain consciousness. The guilt is eating away at Wonwoo, seeing you so weak and fragile– very much in pain. He couldn't bring himself to see you like this. And yet, he didn't say anything but wished you would fight through it all for him. Because you love him. And you wouldn't leave someone you love. 

But fate seems to hate him for thinking so, for being so selfish. 

2 weeks after the 6th month, you breathed your last, in his arms, with tears staining your pale face. Wonwoo hated himself for making you cry even in your last moments, that your last words being you're sorry, instead of saying you love him. 

In that moment, he was sure that you hated him too, for forcing you to go through all those painful chemotherapies, for taking disgusting meds, for not being able to be strong and let you go. You were sick and in pain, but he still clings to you like a child. 

And for that, he refused to forgive himself. He let himself be in the deepest darkness possible, loathes himself so much that no one could save him. He would then go see you and apologize for being so stupid. He believed that he was the reason that you were in so much agony. 

But, so deep in his heart, he desperately wished that you would forgive him. That you'd tell him it's okay, it was normal to be afraid. So that he can be free from his misery. He wished that you'd pet his head and tell him you still love him despite his stupidity, so that he can breathe properly again. 

That night, after 5 long years, you appeared in his dream. Looking so ethereal like a literal goddess. You took him in your loving embrace, kissed his face and hair so gently like he's so fragile. You let him weep in your arms for who knows how long. 

"I love you so much, Wonwoo. Please don't be in pain anymore" 

His eyes shot open, seeing he's passed out at Joshua's couch as usual. The windows are open a bit to let the cool air in. And for the first time in a while, he can breathe properly. The heavy feelings confining his chest have dissipated and he believed that it's your doing. 

"I love you, Y/n. Thank you for staying with me"

And that night, Wonwoo realized that you might not be there with him physically, but you'll always be there in his heart and mind. 

-Fin-

[lizzy-theshyone]

About that night

a/n: I wrote this little piece of... I don't what this is? But I hope you enjoy it :3 None of this canon! I do think that there could be something going between those two, but I'm not sure about it. They do feel like a married couple tho.

Pairing: Beelzebub x Bael

summary: Feeling a little emotional during his work, Bael gets a little emotional about that one night he spent with Beelzebub before the King of Avisos left.

CW: Implied Sex, smoking cigarettes

Word count: 944 words

An endless amount of documents piled up on the desk, leaving Bael exhausted from all the work he is doing. With a sigh he pushed the sunglasses up again, as he already lost count of often he did it before. He straightened his back before he stared at his reflection in the window in front of him. It was already dark outside, as usual, since he never really took a break in the first place. Waking up with his head on the desk, occasionally drooling on the papers, was normal for the Substitute King of Avisos. He had to take care of the work Beelzebub left behind.

Bael flinched at the thought of his best friend, wondering when he decided to check on him for the last time. He didn’t care anymore if it was once a month or four times a year, he simply wanted him to take care of his responsibilities as the King of Avisos. He wanted him to be back by his side, though he would never confess the latter. He shared a deep bond with Beelzebub, they were best friends, they looked rather similar and were turned on by the same things.

“Get your ass back here, Beel…”

Letting his head fall on the desk, a groan escaped him. He was so exhausted, pissed and sad. Exhausted from all the paperwork. Pissed at Beelzebub for being everywhere but not where he should be. And sad because he missed him more than Bael wanted to admit.

And before he knew it, he threw his sunglasses against the next wall, causing them to shatter. Anger was always the source for this kind of outburst, but this time it was a different kind of anger. Usually he was mad at the shit Beelzebub did but this time he was mad at himself. Mad that he couldn’t make his best friend stay, mad that he was feeling the way he did even though he should have known better, mad that he even allowed himself to develop those feelings. He got lost thinking back to that particular night millenia ago.

“I want you to take care of Avisos… I’ll be gone for quite some time and I know that you’re capable of taking over the responsibility…”

Beelzebub’s words echoed through the dark bedroom as he lit up a cigarette to take a drag. He leaned back against the headboard of the bed, staring out of the window at the bright city lights that were the only light source to illuminate the room.

Bael’s jaw clenched as he heard the words of the one next to him, he turned to look at the other one, trying to figure out if he was serious. But with the king’s face turned towards the window and away from him, it was hard to read his facial expression. There was a knot forming in his throat that was impossible to swallow. He felt like his heart has been ripped out of his chest, or at least a piece of it. But then again, neither Beel nor him were able to lie, which made that knot in his throat even tighter.

“But you’re coming back, right?” he asked, his voice hoarse at the thought of his best friend he knew for who knows how long. Trying to tell himself that he imagined the tears rolling down his cheek, he shook his head as an attempt to deny what he just heard. But he knew he couldn’t stop him.

The sudden silence between them was killing him on the inside. From a questionable hookup to an uncomfortable silence that he couldn’t bare, Bael turned around again to turn away from Beelzebub, feeling irritated and hurt.

“Why?”

He could feel the other one shifting in his position as if he sat up properly but he didn’t give him an answer. The silence weighed heavy on Bael as he bit his tongue, swallowing down his anger but the knot in his throat remained.

“You wouldn’t understand… Or maybe you do… I don’t know…”

The sound of the cigarette being dragged away was clearly audible as the silence surrounded them again. Bael pulled the blanket up, trying to ignore the lingering fear of Beelzebub leaving him with a burden he wasn’t sure he could carry.

“Bael… look at me, please.”

There was a slight pause before Bael sat up as well and looked at Beelzebub. He noticed the frown on his best friend’s face, but his eyes widened as the one next to him cupped his face and wiped his tears away.

“The last thing I want, is for you to be sad and cry. You are my best friend, my other half… I don’t want to see you like this.”

The words of his King surprised him a little but the kiss that came after those words caught him off guard. They have kissed that night before, did even more than just kissing each other, something best friends actually wouldn’t do. Something only lovers did, but they weren’t lovers. They were friends, best friends. Bael felt like the lines of their relationship towards each other were blurry, he wasn’t sure anymore what they were. All he knew was that what they did, felt right.

“Good night, Bael. My friend, my other self…see you soon…”

Bael snapped out of the memories from that night and shook his head, wiping the tears away that ran down his cheek. It hurt and there was nothing he could do about it. The only one who could make it stop, was the one who caused him the pain.

“When you return… we need to talk about that night…”

[fwckriley]

Endless Echoes

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Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

Word Count: 1.100

I wasn't happy with this story so I decided to rewrite it. It ended up turning into a whole other story, even though it's essentially the same. Hope y'all like it.

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The sound of the door closing echoed through the empty apartment. He turned around and locked the door. The space was almost claustrophobic in its simplicity: an old sofa, a beach chair next to the window, a wooden coffee table, and a rug that seemed to have been forgotten in time. The walls were bare, with no paintings or photographs to bring the place to life. Not that he cared, furniture was just furniture. And nothing more.

He looked around and sighed, feeling the weight of his exhaustion increase.

His shoes made a rhythmic sound against the wooden floor, echoing throughout the apartment. He walked towards the kitchen, and upon reaching it, he opened the fridge, feeling the cold and humid air hit his face. With his other hand, he grabbed a glass pitcher. He left the fridge door open, illuminating the room. Then, he took his phone out of his pocket and played the voicemail.

"Hey Simon, it's me. I've been thinking about some things, about us and... there are so many things left unsaid between us. I feel like I need to talk about it, or it's going to suffocate me, devour me alive, you know? So, if you want to ignore this message, it's okay." His heart raced as he heard her voice. He felt a tightness in his stomach, a mix of anxiety and sadness. He wanted to call her. He wished he could just pick up his phone, call her number, and said everything he was thinking to her. But instead, he just listened, letting her voice seep into his mind. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath.

"I just left, without goodbyes... Looking back now, I regret so much leaving you. You deserved a proper goodbye, but I... if I saw you again, I know I couldn't leave. I need to be honest, even if it hurts. I still love you, but sometimes love isn't enough to make us stay, you know?" Her words cut like blades into his heart, tearing open old and new wounds. She tried to stay calm, but her voice trembled, betrayed by the pain she was trying to hide. Simon, on the other hand, remained silent, trying to process the flood of emotions that was invading his chest.

"You know, I wanted to be strong, to be the rock you needed, but you shattered me into pieces, Simon. And now I'm here, trying to pick up the fragments of myself, trying to rebuild. I don't blame you, but I can't pretend anymore that everything is okay."

Her words echoed in his mind. He felt lost, bewildered. How could he have been so blind? So selfish? He loved her, but that wasn't enough. He wanted to be by her side, but he didn't know how to make her happy. He wondered what was wrong with him, why he couldn't love her the way she deserved. The truth was that he was scared. Scared of commitment, scared of opening up to her, scared of being vulnerable. And now he was alone, without her. He wondered if he would ever find someone who loved him and understood him the way she did. He wondered if he deserved that. Maybe he did.

"I just...I...Shit. I just wish it was you." Her voice was trembling. "Did I make your life brighter? Did I bring you comfort? I keep wondering what I could have done wrong. Where did I go wrong? Do you think of me as often as I think of you? Do you want me back? If you do, why haven't you reached out to me? Or maybe you don't want to. Maybe you're relieved that I'm out of your life. Maybe you hate me now for unearthing what was buried deep."

His eyes were fixed on the glass, watching as the drops slowly formed and trickled down its exterior, like tears streaming down his soul. There was no rush, no urgency. Maybe the water in the glass could wash away the pain he felt. Maybe it could ease the ache in his chest. Or maybe it was just a distraction, a small momentary comfort to alleviate the pain of loneliness.

"I sincerely hope you're doing well...Simon. Goodbye."

"Did I make your life brighter?"

Yes. He thought.

The morning sun at eight o'clock shone on her face, illuminating her light brown hair and golden skin. She was always more beautiful when exposed to sunlight, shining like gold. He had been awake since six AM, watching her all this time. She was beautiful, more than beautiful. There were no words to describe it. She was life. She was happiness. She was humor. She was wit. She was color in his gray world. She slowly woke up, annoyed by the sunlight in her eyes.

Her eyes opened, copper-brown. Kissed by the sun, by life, by God, and all the good things in the world. How he wished he could put it into words. She looked at him, and he felt naked, although he was actually naked.

"Weirdo," she said, her voice still sleepy.

"You snore," he said.

"I don't snore," she replied, irritated.

"Louder than many soldiers. You should see a doctor," he joked.

"Keep it up and you'll be without sex for the next six months," she threatened, snuggling up to him and going back to sleep.

He snapped out of his trance and looked around the apartment. His apartment was shrouded in darkness, with the only illumination coming from the city streetlights outside. He made his way back to the living room, taking his glass of water with him. His hand was shaking and his breathing was heavy. When he reached the living room, he placed the glass of water on the floor next to a beach chair. Slowly, he sat down in the chair, feeling his tense muscles loosen. He took the last cigarette from the pack, staring at the empty box for a moment before lighting it. The smoke wafted slowly, a gray trail that mixed with the darkness of the room. He looked outside, watching the distant lights shining like artificial stars. The muffled sound of the city entered his ears, a constant hum, but it was better than silence. The loneliness and emptiness of the apartment were suffocating, and he felt as if he were being crushed by immense pain. Sadness overtook him, heavy like a wet blanket, and he just sat there, motionless, for a long time. Just watching the city.

After an eternity of reflection, immersed in his own melancholy, listening only to the ticking of his clock, he picked up his glass of water. It was at room temperature, but he drank it anyway. It wasn't good, not by a long shot. He lifted the glass near his face, holding it at eye level, and began to spin it slowly. He played with the glass, spinning, maneuvering.

Empty.

Completely empty.

[theravenflies]

I love the Young Justice Barbara Gordon

[Plain text: I love the Young Justice Barbara Gordon.]

(Keep in mind that I am not paraplegic, just a nerd)

I was never the biggest fan of the original Killing Joke storyline (and I will fight people on this,) but I think Young Justice managed to turn it into a plot that wasn't actually bad. In fact, they did a lot of things really well.

The original storyline, The Killing Joke, gave Barbara Gordon waist-down paralysis after the Joker shot her. The problem with that is that he shot her in the stomach at an extremely close range, the muzzle of the gun literally pressed to the middle of her stomach. At that close a range, depending on the gun and bullet, he probably shattered half of her spinal cord, if not more. The thing about shatter injuries to the spinal cord is that they cause more complications in upper-body mobility than other spinal injuries. If a significant portion of her spinal cord was shattered, Barbara wouldn't be as good as she is at fighting. The damage would cause problems in the rest of her body. And then, of course, everyone is grieving for her and so sad that she'll never walk again and have to retire and I'm pretty sure Batman does something drastic? And that's... really not a plot non-disabled writers should go for.

However, in Young Justice, it's completely different. Barbara saw Cassandra Cain, who was unidentifiable but very small so obviously a young child, going after Joker with a sword, so she chose to get between the child and her target to prevent Cass from doing something that could never be taken back. She took the slash, which hit her lower back, just above her tailbone, so that it didn't go to Joker's neck. And the other characters handled it well. Nightwing was a bit panicked, of course, but that's because Barabara had a severe injury that was life-threatening. Batman, knowing that Nightwing had called for a medical evacuation and that he was handling first aid, took the sword from a terrified Cassandra ever so gently, and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. Cassandra was horrified, of course, but it was because she'd just hurt someone who wasn't her target severely, not because Barbara was now disabled. And then Barbara tells her that she didn't do it to save Joker, she did it to save Cass. And Cass is horrified and probably hates herself in the moment, sure, but that memory later becomes something that strengthens her. Cass gets kidnapped in that episode and remembering that during her captivity helps her. It's a memory of the woman who would later become her older sister and one of her best friends. She knows that Barbara, the woman who has done so much for her, will help her. She won't rest until Cassandra is safe, even if it means coming after her herself.

I also really like how the plot handled this. Number one, we don't know off the bat why Barb is paralyzed, it doesn't come up until it's relevant, she's just paralyzed. And when it does come up, it's not a tragedy, it's Barbara risking her life to save the soul of a child who didn't understand the moral consequences of what she was about to do. She chose to do that and she would do it again. That's a really interesting way of subverting the exhausted "disabled by an accident" trope, because yes, it was an accident on Cass's part, but Barbara knew she was probably going to get badly hurt. It's similar to a character running into a burning building to save someone else. They accept the potential consequences because they couldn't live with themselves if they didn't help. She took the risk, she knew what could happen, which is so much better than her having no choice and being shot. It's far less tired an idea and a very interesting spin that I quite like.

Going back to the injury, let's get in-depth about that. I mentioned how a shatter would impact her upper body, too. But the way she was injured in Young Justice, which was probably severing the connection between two very low vertebrae or possibly cutting a vertebra itself if Cass put enough force behind it, makes sense. It wouldn't have as much a major impact on her upper body, so it makes sense that she can throw the person who snuck up on her like it's easy. Barbara can be an excellent hand-to-hand fighter and it's not unexplainable. We don't see her exercising in her chair, likely because she has the wrong chair for both exercising and her disability (she has a hospital-type wheelchair instead of a lightweight chair, which is, I think, just poor research,) but she clearly still does because she's still extremely good.

Also, I like how there's no cure plot. The show might still be ongoing so I don't know if that'll last, but for now, she hasn't been cured and shows no desire to be. The comics would occasionally have her paralysis cured and thank the gods they didn't go with that, even with a character (we won't get into the absolute disaster of Violet Harper here) who could, in theory, heal her, and I love that. For some reason writers are afraid of keeping their disabled characters disabled, so I'm surprised and glad they didn't take the easy out.

Finally, I love that Oracle is still able to do field work with special equipment. Does she go onto the actual field herself? No, not really. But she uses small drones and other things to help out, such as the tiny drone that gave Cass a lock pick or her hacking into systems to protect her allies from security measures. Babs doesn't need to stop being a superhero because she's disabled but also doesn't suddenly use a mech or something, she just finds ways to work with her new circumstances to keep doing what she wants to do, just in a different way. She's still a massive threat to her enemies, just in a different way, utilizing talents she already had (Barbara is extremely intelligent and very creative) to continue to help people.

TL;DR, I really, really like how Young Justice handled Barbara Gordon. If we must have more characters disabled in accidents, this is a very good way to do that.