#SOBBING INCONSOLABLE I'M SO SAD I LOVE THEM

[funnywormz]

thinks about major kira and her family and tekeny ghemor and

[danieyells]

Think about this idea! It's been almost a year and you didn't find the anomaly or how to solve your curse, most of the boys know but aren't really keeping track, a year is so far away and it slips away so fast but suddenly the MC one day starts skipping some classes or acting odd so one of the boys (for special angst one who has a crush on mc but didn't confess yet) ask them what is going on and they fall in the realization when they say "one week left"

I was trying to take a nap when i remembered this ask and this idea clawed its way into my head. So hey.

It's not quite what your idea was, but I hope you like it anyway, anon.

Frostheim.

Vagastrom.

Jabberwock.

Sinostra.

Hotarubi.

Obscuary.

Mortkranken.

Even the previously missing Dionysia ghouls.

You'd met and bonded with all of the ghouls in Darkwick, and even a few outside of it. You'd gone on missions. You'd even begun to get the ghouls to capture anomalies instead of kill them. The anomalies were being studied and discoveries were being made.

But none relating to your own curse.

The Gala came and went, the Laurel Crown awarded. The third years had moved on to become fourth years. You'd had many hard and tearful goodbyes. Promises to meet again that you hoped could come true. Some more firm understandings that this was goodbye, and wishes of good luck.

Soon the new first years would be coming and they would be assigned their houses.

Soon. . . .

"Dandelion?" The temporary Captain of Jabberwock leaned over to stare at you, a curious look on his face. Towa had been inconsolable for a while after Haru had left, and Jabberwock had been plagued by violent storms of snow and hail and lightning. Eventually it all calmed down. You hoped the quieter and natural atmosphere of Jabberwock could heal your stressing heart. All it did was leave you to your thoughts. Thoughts that must have shown on your face. Towa seemed to have had gotten over his own problems, and seemed back to his usual self. His arms looped around you, feeling like warmth and sunshine incarnate. No wonder plants lived him so much. "Here you go! A hug to make your sad face go away!"

You laugh weakly. But it doesn't take the dread away. You turn into him and smell the sweet and floral scent about him, clinging and trying to hide your woes so he wouldn't begin to feel bad again. You thank him, and he gives you a squeeze.

"That didn't help?" Somehow you felt bad for not reassuring him. "What's the matter? Do you miss Haru too?"

You did miss Haru. You missed all your friends and loved ones.

You were going to miss all of your friends and loved ones.

"Whaddyou mean? Tell me." He gave you a squeeze of encouragement. You choked back a sob, but barely managed to whimper out your woes.

"One week left. . . ."

"One week. . .?" In one week the new first years would arrive and be assigned their houses. In one week, it will have had been a year since that concert, since that anomaly, since-- "Oh! Your curse!!"

Part of you wanted to feel angry at how Towa didn't seem bothered by it. He cuddled you, petting your hair. "You're gonna die soon, huh?"

How blunt. He was like this a lot, dismissive about life. Sometimes it scared you, but in ways it was comforting to hear it said so straightforward. Yes, you were going to die soon. Someone said it. Someone acknowledged it. Someone remembered.

"That's okay! Everybody dies eventually!"

"But I don't want to die, Towa!" You cry, snapping your head up to look at him desperately. He parted his lips as of in surprise. "I'm not ready to die! I-- I--"

"Hmm." Towa looked at you with contemplative pity. "So you don't wanna die yet? You wanna keep living?"

You nod. Did Towa think so little of his own life that he couldn't comprehend wanting it to continue? Or was he just that unempathetic? Maybe you didn't mean much to him, and he didn't care if you were gone the way he cared when Haru left.

"Why don't you ask me for help?"

What?

"What do you mean?" You looked at him inquisitively. Towa smiled back down at you, beguiling, lavender hair framed by an inky black sky.

"Why don't you ask me to save you? So you don't die as soon."

You shook your head. "Towa, I was cursed by some anomaly--we never found another one like it, I--I can still remember its eye and nothing that erases my memory works to make me forget. Everytime I close my eyes lately I see it like--like it's coming after me, like it's getting closer. I see that eye in other people's eyes, I--"

"Do you see it in mine?" It's eerily still and quiet in Jabberwock today. You look in his eyes. It's easy, like nothing but you two exists right now. "Is it there?"

"No." You swallow. You don't remember standing. You don't remember Towa standing, either. "No, it's not."

"I can help you. I promise." Why was it so dark? The sky wasn't clouded, and Towa wasn't upset. You didn't remember it being dark when you came here. The warmth of the sun was your only comfort alone with your thoughts. "You just have to ask me. Ask me to help you."

"But. . .how will you help me?" As a matter of fact, it was midday when you came here, wasn't it? Why could Towa talk in the first place. "What can you do that no one else could? Wh-why didn't you say something sooner?"

"Do you want me to grant your wish? Or not?" You could see Towa clearly, but the deep darkness around you reflected no light in his eyes. It reminded you of being in the sunken ship disguised as an undersea palace, when those anomalies tried to keep you from leaving. You didn't feel cold like that time though. You felt warm. You almost felt safe.

"I. . .I. . . ." Something told you to run away. For a moment, you saw the anomaly's eye again. Towa looked irritated, and suddenly it was gone, as if frightened away. You heard thunder crack in the distance. "I want to live. . . ."

"Tell me what you wish for." He smiled at you. It was welcoming and pitying. Like finding a lost child. "I'll keep your safe."

His face was very close, your eyes locked in his. You felt weaker than ever with him holding you like this. The words spilled out of your mouth.

"I wish my curse was gone. . .I wish I could live. . .please help me, Towa. . . ."

Towa smiled and pet your hair. Then he stepped back from you. You clung to his sleeves, afraid of being abaoned to the emptiness around you. Between you, a pale plant grew to eye level, flowering before your very eyes.

"Eat it."

The plant moved itself to your mouth. You parted your lips, allowing it in, and closed your teeth and lips around it like you'd done with so many plants Towa fed you. It ripped itself away from you, and you chewed it. Your mouth was filled with complex flavors, sweet and bitter and painful and unfamiliar. Your senses were filled with something soft and numbing. But you still felt the strong press of Towa's lips on yours, pushing the flower down your throat. Somehow, you didn't gag from the pressure.

When you swallowed, a wave of nausea hit you. The sickly feeling was followed by electricity, jolting through your mouth and down your throat and up your spine, into your stomach and brain. You felt it travel to the tips of your fingers and pores, arcing across every hair along your body.

And then the sharp pain and blast of fog filled your head.

It felt like roots implanting themself through your whole body, as if replacing every part of your nervous system. You opened your mouth ask what was happening, but all that left you was a scream so loud it hurt your throat. Your eyes and face burned with your tears.

You dug your nails into Towa's arms as he pulled Way, and he watched on without helping as you began to vomit. It hurt. All of this hurt. You vomited burning and freezing mud, and what you vaguely grasped to be seeds. The empty world around you seemed to consume the mess, drinking it up and burying the seeds into the invisible earth.

As you heaved and gasped when it finally came down, you watched another plant grow. This one was familiar. It flowered quickly, and you remembered the flowers of the anomaly that cursed you. You saw them flower and grow, and you gasped, yanking your hands away from Towa to cover your eyes.

Not again, you didn't want to see the eye again.

It wasn't until you heard lightning and hail, feeling the fall of it directly in front of you that you realized you couldn't remember how the eye looked anymore. The memory was simply gone.

"Did you feel it? It was like being struck by lightning, right?" Towa's voice echoed around you jovially. "That means we're soulmates now. Because your soul is mine now. Our pact is sealed. And your curse is gone."

"Wha--ow. . . ." You snapped your head up, pulling your hands away from your eyes to look at Towa, only to shield your eyes from the bright, warm sun of Jabberwock. It burned, after being in the dark so long--and after the sensory overload after eating that flower. Looking down and shielding your eyes from the light, you saw something smouldering between yours and Towa's feet, surrounded by charred petals. "What. . .what did you do, Towa. . .?"

Towa made an inquisitive sound at you, tilting his head. He once again looked innocent. He once again couldn't speak under the light of day. He smiled and giggled, covering your eyes and kissing you again, humming happily against your lips. From being around him for over a year you'd already begun to understand him when he couldn't speak. He was reassuring you. You'll be okay, he says. You don't need to be afraid anymore.

"But. . .my soul. . .a pact. . .like a. . .?"

Like a demon?

Was Towa a demon?

He pat you on the back, silently saying not to worry. And then, he leapt into the air, off to somewhere else in the former safari area, leaving you to pull yourself together.

The eye was gone from your mind. You couldn't remember anything besides the flowers and their charred state in the beautiful green grass of Jabberwock.

You held your stomach, feeling it knot with nerves.

The curse was gone. You'd live. . .but now your life was in Towa's hands.

You began to leave Jabberwock, turning over in your head how you would tell Cornelius what happened. You'd made a pact with a demon to spare your life. . .but the demon was on campus. He was a threat. He had power. A lot of power.

The moment you started to consider telling them it was Towa, you screamed out in pain. Electricity ran through your very existence, not just your body but your soul too. A warning.

You caught your breath where you collapsed in the grass, one of the anomalous animals nervously sniffing at you until your rising startled it into fleeing. Right. You couldn't share who the demon was. But you could say there had been one and that your life was safe now. . that you were aware of.

Once your shaking legs were steady and the phantom pain subsided, you made your way out into the main grounds and towards the main building. It was probably important that you share the news. . .whether or not it was good.

[bumpkinspice0]

Parallels Chapter 17: What Is Meant To Be?

Miguel O'Hara x Spider!FemReader

No use of y/n

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4.9k

Summary: You're going to die. It's written in the canon. The canon must always be obeyed... right?

Warnings: Angst O'clock, Talks of death, Near death experience???? Miguel loves so hard, SMUT (again finally) Oral (Fem receiving), Window sex??, sweet sweet desperation

A/N:  I worked hard to get this out quickly because I felt bad about making everything so sad lately 😅 Though there still might be enough angsty to make it plenty sad, Idk. I'm sorry anyway

Previous. - Next

Series Masterlist

AO3

_______________

Chapter 17

What Is Meant To Be?

“Play it again.”

“Miguel, I don’t think–”

“Play it again.”

The simulation of the dingey warehouse restarts. Nothing more than a prediction. A vision of what's to come. A supposed hostage situation set up by the remnants of the Fisk family—a trap for you. It was so simple. He’d seen you dodge gunfire and fight practical monsters, but this is what does it? Trapped inside a warehouse rigged to explode. As indestructible as spiders seemed to be, no one could rightly survive a roof falling on them. A spider can’t dodge bullets forever. 

They’d find your body 3 days later, likely a memorial erected in your honor as well as a day of citywide grieving. And two months later a certain captain’s daughter would take up the mantle— and you’d be replaced and slowly forgotten. 

There was a 98.9% chance of likelihood for these events. It might as well be a hundred at that point.

You were going to die. This is how you were going to die. 

It was predicted to happen within the hour and Miguel was just sitting here waiting for it to happen. How morbid, he scolds himself. He sits there helpless, a pitiful excuse for a hero. 

“Mig, I’m so sorry,” Lyla’s small form comes to sit next to his hand, her own small hand mimicking stroking motions over his forearm. 

“You weren’t going to tell me.” he mumbles, eyes still locked on the screen of a smoldering building where your body would be dug up from. Only a simulation. It hadn’t happened. Not yet.

“I didn’t know how to. I was… scared.” 

“Scared,” He scoffs, “You?”

“You’re not the only one who cares about her, Miguel.'' The AI bites out harshley. It almost catches him off guard. He’s so used to seeing her so bubbly, so quirky and fun. As annoyed as he seemed by it, he always appreciated it. Gabe was smart in programming her to be so fun. He needed someone like that in his life. Someone to help cut through his bullshit. You played that role as well. 

“We’ve lost a lot of friends in this job, haven’t we Lyla?”

“We have.” 

Miguel expected to be ragging at this point, an inconsolable beast wreaking havoc on his lab. Angry, like he had been since you left. Instead, he’s just numb. Was your fate that easy to accept?

The spider-sense lulls in his head, finally quieting down after the month of torture. Did that mean it knew what was to come? Would he feel it? When you—

He finally buries his face in his hands, muffling a defeated sob. Ah, there’s the tears. After the self-inflicted torture he’d put you both through, this is how it ends? You die and he has to watch it happen like a helpless child on the sidelines. This is the burden he’d taken. He’d done this so many times before. He’d watched horrible things happen because it was the will of the canon— but with you it was… you were…

“Lyla, I’d like to see the probability diagnostics,” He swallows the sorrow, hoping the cold unfeeling numbers of an algorithm might put him at ease. If this was to happen, maybe looking at the ripple effects of it would help him cope. A sacrifice for the greater good of it all. 

The equations and graphs illuminate around him, all of them infallible. This was going to happen. And what would your death bring to the multiverse? Nothing. A small blip in the grand scope of it all. A speck of dust in the cosmos, just like all of them. 

But if your death was so small, then what could that mean if it didn’t happen?

The thoughts he’d been suppressing suddenly flood his mind. He’s not helpless here. The power to change your fate rested on his wrist, your life so easily saved by the simple push of a button. He’d risked something like this before, but it was different this time. Could saving a life have the same effect? He’d replaced a life, but saving a life…There’s no way to know. And he didn’t have time to run the numbers. He had to act—- now.

“Miguel?” Lyla’s voice chirps up behind him, “What are you doing?”

What is he doing? He looks down to see he’d already typed in the coordinates to your universe. Had he already decided and didn’t realize it? Was it that easy?

“I…” He looks down at the watch. A single push of a button. That’s all it would take. “I don’t know.”

“I know… this is hard,” She hovers at his wrist now, clearing the coordinates from the watch, “But we can’t interfere with—”

“All we’ve done is interfere,” He bites out in a voice he doesn’t recognize. “How is this different?”

Did he really believe that?

Hypocrite, he scolds himself.

Reasoning. He was trying to reason for it. Bargaining for your life to justify his own selfish actions. 

He types in the coordinates again, and Lyla clears them before he finishes. He growls, clawing through her projection. 

“You’re not thinking, Miguel!” She urges. “I know this is hard. But you can’t. You know you can’t.”

He knows she’s right, he’s not thinking. He doesn’t care. If he could pull this off, if he could save you, then he’d figure it out. He always did. There had to be limits he could push. Options he never considered. Whatever it would take, just to assure your safety. 

“You have to understand what’s at stake here.” Lyla says again, her pixelated eyes pleading with him. Despite her seeming so human in every way, she was still just a program doing her job. She was his fail-safe, an assurance to make sure past mistakes weren’t repeated— and now she’s the only thing standing in his way. 

“Yes, I do understand,” He says coldly, calmly walking across the lab— to Lyla’s control panel. “It’s time you remember who’s in charge.”

“Don’t even think about it!” She grows to full size. Projections explode behind her, raging fire, explosive blinding lights— all mere illusions. It does nothing to stop him. While she ran things, multiverse travel was still completely operable without her. He opens the panel and begins typing in the reboot code. It’s the one area of the tower she has no control over.

Arachni-bots scurry towards him before falling dead with another push of a button. She’s trying everything. He has to work quickly.

“I’ve called Gabe,” Lyla warns, “Emergency protocol is initiated. He’ll know.”

“Fine, I don’t care.” Miguel punches in the final sequence and all of Lyla’s projections begin to fade. Only her flicking form remains. It’ll take her at least an hour to reboot, that’s more than enough time. 

A portal to earth-727 bursts to life in front of him. 

“Think about it, Miguel!” Lyla tries to reason one last time as her projection starts to fade, “All of this— Everything— for one person? It’s not worth it.”

He pauses at the portal's entrance, the pull of the spider-sense urging him to step forward. 

“Yes. She is.”

The sense crescendos as he shoots through reality, across time and space to save you. The anticipation builds, the anxiety of racing against the clock. He burst through the portal already swinging, taking a quick assessment of his surroundings. Without Lyla to guide his exact location he could've only ended up in a 3-mile radius of you. The sun had already set. He was in Brooklyn, the southside by the looks of it. The warehouse was in the center of Queens, not far but he had to hurry. 

As he swings the rest of his emotions come flooding in. The guilt. The shame… the undeniable love for you. How could he have thought such things? How could have just sat by while he watched you die? Had this job really made him so callous? So cold to the world at large? 

When did Spider-Man stop trying to save everyone?

You’d given yourself to him so freely and he’d meet your affections with so much disdain— yet you treated him with kindness anyway. You were patient with him like no one had been before, he didn’t deserve it. Yet he won’t give it up. Not anymore.

He’d make it up to you. He’d make it all up to you starting tonight. 

The warehouse is in sight. You’d be swinging in from the east. He could easily stop you before you got anywhere near the building. He perches himself on the highest rooftop half a block east of the rigged warehouse and waits. Checking the time, you’d be swinging at any moment, give or take a few minutes. 

He waits… and he waits. 

He’s not sure how much time has passed before he starts pacing. Did he miss you? No, he has no doubt the spider-sense would have honed in on you.  

The spider-sense… in his blind panic he hadn't paid it any mind. Surely being in your dimension would send the alarms blaring in his head. Instead, it was like it was…. Muted. Smothered under something he didn’t recognize. What did that mean? 

What if it meant you were already dead?

Dread pushes him off the roof and swinging towards the harrowing warehouse. Crawling up to the closest window, he peers inside. Three armed men stand in the center of the massive room, barrels of explosives around them. 

“Where the hell is she?” one of them grumbles, “Doesn’t she usually show up way before the cops? Did Tony call it in?”

“Of course he did,” the second one sighs. 

“If she doesn’t come then this was all for nothin’.”

“She’ll come. She always comes.”

“Shut up, both of you,” the final one hisses, turning around to scold the other two. “Look.”

He gives a faint nod to his right… directly at Miguel. 

The first bullets whiz past Miguel’s shoulder, one knicking his suit. He was spotted. Idiot. How could be so careless? He barely manages to swing out of sight.

“Christ, don’t shoot in here!” The leader of the three shouts, “Might as well light a fucking match!” 

“Fuck you, I’m not letting that bitch get away!” They think Miguel is you? He could hear them arguing, perched safely on the roof. Well that confirms it, you weren’t here. 

“She’s here. We got her and I’m not gonna let her pick us off one by one. I’m getting justice for the boys she locked up.” The threatening statement is followed by the unmistakable cock of a gun. 

Oh no. 

“Wait— WAIT—'' One of them pleads before a shot goes off, immediately followed by a domino fall of explosions. 

Miguel just barely swings to safety, the flames licking at his heels. 

“Holy shit. Holy shit.” He chants as he rounds the corner onto a rooftop. It happened. The explosion paints the night in harsh oranges, shattering windows and setting off car alarms for miles. He hears police sirens finally approaching. Your death had happened— and you weren’t there for it.

You weren’t there. 

Relief overtakes him, dropping him to his knees. He’s not sure if he wants to cry or vomit. Quelling the boiling cauldron of emotions in his brain, he forces himself to focus. He hones in on the spider-sense— desperately humming in the forefront of his mind. It was trying to tell him something. Trying to tell him where you were. 

With a wary step forward, he follows it.

________

An emergency distress call from some random universe you’d never heard of. You can’t remember the last time you answered one. Probably when the tower was attacked. They were never meant to be ignored either. 

Jess called it in, and with her being so far along in her pregnancy you leaped immediately to help her, along with a good handful of all of your other spider-comrades. She’d just entered her third trimester and you’re truly amazed she’s still working this diligently. 

“Gotta get it all out of my system now,” She’d scoffed to you when she’d first announced it, “That and I know you guys can’t do this without me, better help you out now.” 

Jessica Drew, always so humble to the point she wouldn’t allow herself maternity leave. God, you loved her but you’d wished she would slow down. 

Since she showed no signs of taking a break, offering a helping hand whenever she needed it was the best you could do.

 Tonight she certainly needed it, being caught in a sudden gathering of symbiotes. You and about ten other spiders answered the call, just in time it seemed.

You hated symbiotes. It wasn’t as easy as punching them and knocking them out, you had to be clever. Play to their very specific weaknesses— Fire and loud noises. That and they were just nasty fuckers. It's a good chance for you to blow off some steam. You didn’t have to hold back when it came to symbiotes, and for once, that was a good thing. 

An hour of messy fighting and a lot of loud noises and fire later, they were all contained. It admittedly felt good to be part of a team effort after your rather less-than-stellar month. These were still your people, they didn’t stop being your people just because Miguel wasn’t part of your circle anymore.

A massive portal opened back to HQ. You’re cue to leave for home.

“Hey,” Jess grabs your shoulder before you can hit the button home, “Come back to the tower with me.”

“I— why?” you’re aware of how cold it comes out. 

Jess immediately furrows her brows, “Because I haven’t talked to you in forever and I wanna buy you a coffee so you can describe what it tastes like to me.”

You can’t help but laugh a little, “You miss coffee that much, huh?”

“And booze. And sushi. And hot tubs. And—” She drapes her arm around your shoulder as she continues, leading you over to her bike. Well, if she’s offering a fun ride, who are you to say no?

Yes, you’d been avoiding the tower like a plague just because he’s there. You feel him when you’re closer, the sense jumping at the proximity alone. Just because it was Miguel’s tower though, didn’t mean you weren’t welcome. Your friends were there. Your community. Spider Tower wasn’t just a monolith to Miguel, it was for all of you. 

You wonder if you should tell Jess about it all. If anyone would understand it’d be her. You’d probably get a few good minutes of reprimanding you for being so stupid, but then she’d go full protective mode and be your human shield against the big bad Spider-Man 2099. That and the pregnancy hormones were making her more irritable. That’s what friends did, though— right? Made things easier for one another. That and you wanted another shoulder to cry on.  

You will tell her, eventually. Not tonight but… soon. 

You both burst into the tower, Jess skidding the bike to a spiraling stop. 

“I hate it when you do that.” you sigh into her back. 

“You spend all day swinging around a city and a little bike ride makes you dizzy?” She scoffs, flipping out the kickstand.

“Yes, shut up,” You groan, practically melting off the bike. Suddenly, You remember why you don’t always accept rides from her, “Why do you ride a bike anyway? Your webs seem perfectly fine.”

“Just to look cool,” She muses, bouncing her hard to the side. Well… you can’t deny that fact. She always did look pretty cool. 

The spider-sense was revving in the back of your head. A few weeks ago it would have driven you insane, now it’s just another thing to ignore. Like a cast over a broken bone or an itchy rash. You’d trained yourself to live with advanced senses, you could train yourself to get used to this. 

At least until you were ready to take the cure. 

You’re halfway to the cafeteria when it’s too much, the sense jumping like a punch to the back of your head. You stumble forward, blindsided by the effects. 

“Jeez, you okay?” Jess grabs your arm. 

“Fine! Fine…. I think.” You assure her halfheartedly.

The sense calms down into a more annoying ringing, but still stronger than when you first entered the building. Why was it acting up now? 

A familiar voice calling your name is your answer. You turn around and there he is, standing at the end of the hallway. 

Miguel— and god, he looks awful. 

Of course he had to show up when you were starting to feel like yourself again. The sense almost causes you to burst out in tears at the sight of him alone. It was a relief. It was a nightmare. 

God, you really don’t want to do this right now. 

He takes a few timid steps toward you, “I… I need to talk to you.”

“Why?” you immediately spit back. 

“It’s important,” He simply says. This was a bad idea. You want to go with him so badly but you know if you do it’ll open up all of your wounds again. 

“What’s going on, Mig?” Jess, bless her, tries to intervene. 

“This is between me and her,” Miguel bites out coldly. Jess didn’t often tolerate his bitchy behavior, but she turns to you instead. Her eyes look to you to see if everything is okay— a silent communication only women seemed to possess the power of. 

“It’s fine, Jess,” You pat her shoulder assuredly, “I’ll describe some coffee to you later.” 

She doesn’t look convinced that it is, in fact, fine but carries on her way regardless. She knew you well enough to be sure that you could handle yourself. She’d suspected something probably since the beginning. Yeah, you really need to come clean to her eventually. 

“What do you want?” You practically hiss at Miguel. He barely moves, simply pressing a button on his watch. A portal springs up on your right. 

“Not here,” He gestures to the spinning portal. Of course, this all had to be cryptic for no reason. Just another thing to torture you right now. You groan and step through the portal. 

It was like walking through a door, your feet landing on solid ground in less than a blink of an eye. A quick glance around and you see you’re in Miguel’s home. It’s dark, the only light coming from the glowing city outside. 

You turn to him as he exits the portal behind you. 

“We couldn’t have taken the sta—”

You don’t even finish the sentence before he pulls you into him, strong arms crushing you against his chest. You’re not sure what you expected… but it wasn’t this.

It’s embarrassing how good it makes you feel almost immediately. Like just his touch cured your countless sleepless nights. The familiar warmth of his arms seeping into your varying being as if he was holding your soul. Was a hug always this good? It’s certainly better than the last one you shared with him. 

The realization jolts you out of his embrace. You weren’t supposed to be together anymore. You weren’t supposed to be doing this shit anymore— right?

“What the hell, Mig?” is all you manage to gasp out. 

He stands there, unmoving, his arms still reaching out after you. You can’t read his face, his expression almost blank. Shocked, maybe?

“I… I don’t know—I had to—” he pulls his hands back, examining them as if he’s just killed someone, “Where were you?”

“Where was—” you balk out an annoyed laugh. Is that why he brought you up here, to check in on you? Toying with this all like some child, “On a mission with Jess, doing my job. Are you spying on me now? Do I have to report to you still?!”

He says nothing, letting your harsh yelling linger in the large space. He looks at you again, something you don’t recognize in his eyes. Suddenly all your anger is replaced with pity. What was happening?

“You’re—” He choked on his words, just for a moment, “You’re okay?”

“Am I o—” You take a step towards him, willing yourself not to reach out and touch him. Trying so desperately to hold up that wall. The resistance you’re not sure you had. 

The spider-sense… is screaming.

“Miguel… you’re scaring me.” 

He nods as if to say I’m scared too. Scared of what, though? You gulp as you break the barrier. You reach out and cradle his massive hands in yours. He sighs at your touch. Something horrible happened… or was going to happen—something to bring this warrior to his knees in a way you’d never seen before. 

“I… I don’t know what to do,” he admits shakily. “Little spider, I think I—”

“What do you need?” you ask immediately.

You see the corners of his mouth twitch up just briefly. Cute, but not an answer. 

“What happened?” You push.

His hands trail up your arms and come to cup your face. Your eyes flutter, almost instinctively. “Just… just tell me you're okay. Right now. In this moment.”

“Mig—” 

You’re not sure who does it. If he pulls your lips to his or if you jump up to meet him. Does it really matter? He tasted like freedom. Like the relief you’d been searching for all these weeks. Had you forgotten so easily? The taste of him. The feel of him. Something so indescribable— like a drug. He was your drug.

It’s a handsy fury, ripping off your clothes as you seemingly try to will his to fade away. There was no time for pleasantries, not this time. There was only hunger— unsatiated, gnawing hunger. 

Need. You needed him.

He backs you against the windows, their sudden coldness sending chills up your naked body. 

“Miguel, please—” you urge, for what exactly, you’re not entirely sure. Whatever he was willing to give you.

“Te tengo. Te tengo…” He chants as his mouth glides down your body, from your neck, between your breasts, and finally to your waiting cunt. 

He engulfs your heat greedily. You don’t recall ever screaming so loud. Sweet, perfect relief. He was perfect. 

He brings both of your legs over his shoulders and holds you there, your bare back pressed against the glass for all the world to see— not that anyone likely would from this height. And not that you really cared right now anyway. There was only him. Him. Him!

God, you missed his skillful mouth. Hungerly lapping at you like it nourished his very soul. It did, you suppose in a way. The sinful hunger helped both of you in its own way. Kept you sane. Kept you alive. You can’t believe you’ve lasted as long as you did without him. 

You come embarrassingly fast, but you’re not surprised with how much you had pent up over the last month. The orgasm rips you apart like an atom bomb, exposing your raw nerves underneath. Your vision goes white, your mouth goes dry. It was everything you were trying to give yourself all those lonely nights— Miguel gave it to you in two minutes. 

His mouth still sloppily runs between your legs as you come down. You squirm in his grasp, your sensitivity now turned up to eleven. 

“Miguel,” You plead, “I need you. I need you.”

A rumble emanates from his chest and up your legs as his mouth comes off you. He lowers your legs, holding you at his waist. He stands at his full height again, pinning you there. He trails his mouth back up your torso, pausing at your breasts to lull his tongue over each nipple before he finds your mouth again— his mouth and tongue coated with the taste of you. 

“Lo siento, arañita. Lo siento mucho.” he whispers between breaths. You know those words. He’s saying sorry. He’s sorry— you’re sorry too. Sorry for it to have come to this. 

He slides inside with a pained moan. Your walls clench around him with familiarity. 

“Like you were made for me,” He murmurs as his mouth slides down your neck. Though it’s completely healed over, he knows the mark he left. He stops on it, his tongue tracing the ghost of what was left there. The brand he left on your soul. 

He lifts you off his cock and slams back into you brutally. Your head falls back against the window with a defined thunk as he sets a ruthless pace. Bouncing you on his cock like you weighed nothing at all. That’s alright, he can use you. 

Your lude erotic sounds fill the space. Wet skin slapping on wet skin. Desperate wordless moans for more. Always more. 

“I missed you. I missed you,” You don’t didn’t even realize you were chanting it until your mouth went dry. 

“Shhh,” He nips at your lower lip, “I know. God, I know. I missed you too. I— fuck.”

Even amidst the animalistic lust-fueled frenzy, you could feel him trembling under your touch. His body quivering with more than just desire. Your combined anxieties manifesting into something desperate and terrifying. A need that couldn’t just be quelled with just your hands. 

Even in your bliss-fogged mind, you felt like a fool for ever letting something like this go. Something so rare and beautiful.

Ever since it appeared in your life you’d been trying to describe this impossible feeling. What was a shared spider-sense? A piece of you that you shared with someone else. How can you define what felt like pure instinct? Give a name to something that was indescribable?

The only thing you knew was that something felt right when you were together. The world made sense when this man was part of it, as infuriating as he could be at times. You were his, he was yours. Not yours in the sense that he belonged to you, but yours meaning he belonged with you. A pair, a set, forever intertwined. 

What was the spider-sense to you?

It was home. 

It felt like home. He felt like home.  

His hips come to a staggering halt as your second orgasm overtakes you. He bites down on your shoulder as he paints your walls. He stands there just for a moment before lowering you both to the ground on trembling legs. Neither of you speaks, panting out the thinning air between each other. Both of you refuse to let go, afraid that this time would surely be the last time you’d ever touch him. Keep him here, now, forever. Nothing could take him away from you right now. 

“Reboot complete.” An ambient voice rings through the room. It was certainly Lyla’s but it sounded… different. More robotic. 

“Oh no,” Miguel grumbles, his grip on you tightening. 

“What? What is it?” Why do you feel panicked? It’s just Lyla. 

Miguel pulls away, worry crossing those burgundy eyes, “I… I have to tell you something.” 

Before he can continue, a familiar golden glow springs up in the middle of the room. Pixels form together to make the familiar form of the infamous AI assistant. She turns to face you both. Miguel’s suit instantly appears back on his body. You’re suddenly very aware of your nakedness, despite her being a computer program. You grab for your abandoned suit crumbled on the floor, hurriedly shoving yourself back into it. 

 “Geez, knock first, Lyla,” You scold her. 

“You’re—” the program's gaze darts back to Miguel in an instant, “Miguel, you didn’t.” 

Miguel sits there shamefully, like a scolded dog. 

“I know we’re not supposed to be doing this anymore,” You come to his defense, slipping your arm into the final sleeve, “It just kind of happened.”

Lyla cock’s her head at you. Was she… confused? Did Lyla get confused? Again, she turns back to Miguel. 

“You didn’t tell her?”

An unknown fear pricks at the hairs on your neck, “Tell me what?”

Miguel stands, arms outstretched to console you. His mouth was open and ready with an explanation before he was interrupted again. 

“Miguel!” Another voice echoes through the large room as it enters the apartment. Gabe. He pauses at the living room entrance. “Oh no. No no no, Miggy. What is she doing here? Estas loco?!”

“Excuse me?” You start before Miguel comes to your defense. 

“She’s here because I chose for her to be here,” He steps in front of you, “She has a right to be here.”

“You’re not God, Miguel,” Gabe marches over, slapping his older brother in the chest. Miguel doesn’t react, “You don’t get to make these decisions. No one does.No puedo creer que estés cometiendo los mismos errores de nuevo. No puedo creer—”

“I’ve told you this is not the same. Ella es diferente,” Miguel bites out, looming over Gabe. The younger brother does not back down.

“Bullshit!”

“Hey!” You finally scream. All eyes in the room snap to you in an instant, some angrier than others. “Someone please… tell me what’s happening.”

You see Gabe’s defenses drop, pinching the bridge of his nose as he takes a step away.

“Jesucristo, Mig.” You hear him mumble into his hand.  

Miguel looks back to you, some kind of horrifying desperation pulling at his features. You’re not sure why, but it scares you. 

“Arañita… Sit down. I have something to tell you.”

_______

Translations:

Te tengo. Te tengo…: I’ve got you. I’ve got you...

Lo siento, arañita. Lo siento mucho: I’m sorry, little spider. I’m so sorry.

No puedo creer que estés cometiendo los mismos errores de nuevo. No puedo creer– : I can’t believe you’re making the same mistakes again. I can’t believe—

Ella es diferente: She’s different

Jesucristo, Mig: Jesus Christ, Mig

Please please please let me know if any of this is wrong

________

Taglist:

@ineedgarlicbread @pinkiemme @thesilenthill @bontensbabygirl @fallenangelsongwolf @raerorigel @littlefreakymunson @viriexo

@w33ni3 @del-ightfulling

Taglist post here!!!

[janaknandini-singh999]

After Krishna left for Dwarka, Radha used to keep herself a lot busier than usual; doing her chores back in Vrindavan, talking to the trees finding Krishna in everything, taking care of the people and animals. At night she would go to her room and sit in front of the mirror, sigh and take out her shringaar. Tonight, as soon as she looked into her reflection, it was her Kanha smiling at her.

"How's Dwarka dheesh doing?" she carefully kept her tone as teasing, afraid that if he suspects even a little bit of sadness then he will come running to her right away, leaving everything behind

"Oh please, Radhe. You should come sometime, you used to before but you barely do now."

Radha cupped Kanha's cheek in the mirror

"My sweet mohana, you know I can't. It's my duty to give you and your ashtabharya all the space and love," laughing, she added a little wistfully "As it is I don't really have a good reputation out here. Krishna's lover. But why? Krishna has millions of lovers. The whole brahmaand is his lover. Why worship one exclusively with him? If he loves all his lovers equally then why just worship this Radha with him? She isn't even his wife. Unlike Mahadev and Parvati, they aren't even legitima-"

"Radhe." Krishna stopped her with tears in his eyes

Radha, hurting as much as him, apologized and continued "but it is true, my love. People only view love as black or white. They think marriage is sanctity when it is the bond that is. Not the label."

Nodding, Krishna whispered "do you miss me?"

She laughed till there were tears in her eyes too "Oh Kanha, you are everywhere I look. Every time I breathe."

"Then why talk to me like this? Why summon me here?"

"Because you are everywhere. Everywhere but right here."

Kanha's eyes softened "I am within you, sakhi. Always."

Nodding and smiling, she looked away to wipe her tears "yes yes, I know that." she looked back in Kanha's eyes "only if I could somehow tell that to Yashoda maiya, Nand baba and all the gopiyan and people here. Maiya is inconsolable, kanha. She cries and says 'that boy always tricks me. I saw the universe in his mouth when he was a child. Now wherever I look, I see him. But I just want him to come steal my makhan. Kanha, where are you? I promise I'll never scold you.'

Krishna touches the mirror ever so gently

"Kanha, they think you are not real when you are everywhere. They think it's an illusion and all they do is weep."

"But they forgot that Maya is Krishna and Mohana is Krishna. Everything that involves krishna is as real as the morpankh falling from the sky quietly into their palms when they think of Him." Radha and krishna whisper at the same time

"Tomorrow the Pandavas and Kauravas fight and I'm Arjuna's saarthi. After killing Kansa mama, the trajectory of my life has changed completely. But I miss Vrindavan, Kishori. I honestly don't even know what to do. They call me God but forget I'm a human in this avatar too. All I can feel is Gandhari's pain. Even if she hates me with everything she has and cursed me for my existence but I just can't help but feel for her so deeply. What can I do?" he sobs

"What Kauravas did was wrong but Gandhari is a mother, kanha. Her pain can't be measured. It is unbearable but justified. But so is your karma and dharma. Whatever you do will be remembered forever. They all need you. So go, sakha. Do what needs to be done. I believe in you. I love you. We all do."

Krishna smiled through the tears

Radha whispered "we parted physically to fulfill our dharma in this lifetime but you know? I.. I'm just so tired, Kanha. It's been so long. I just want to go home. To Goloka. Our home. I feel my purpose here is coming to an end..."

"So is mine, Radhe.. so is mine. We are One." Kanha clutched the mirror closer to his chest and Radha did too - both of them in an eternal embrace.

"We will go home very soon. To everyone we love, finally. It's my vachan, sakhi."

[8makes1newworld]

Ateez reaction to you miscarrying

Warning: angst, cursing, mention of coma

Fem!reader and I emerge from my hiatus to post a morsel

Seonghwa

He was thoroughly devastated. How could this happen to the two of you? The sight of you being inconsolable pained his very soul. There was nothing he could say, or do. Except hold you in his arms and hold the fragments of your heart and soul together as you sobbed until you couldn't anymore. “We'll get through this together, always.”

Hongjoong

His world was completely turned upside down. Your pain was his pain and he felt it deep within himself as it squeezed out the joy that was experienced prior to your miscarriage. The grief of the loss nearly consuming you and him together. But he reminded himself that you needed him more now than ever before. Being there for you every second and tending to your needs being a way to distract himself from the loss of the baby. “Let me take care of you, even when I can't make it better.”

Yunho

There's never been a time that he's ever needed a superhero as much as he did now. He, himself wishing that he could be that superhero. But alas, he knew wishing wasn't going to get him anywhere. Yunho forced himself to step up as you lay despondent in the hospital bed. His fingers laced in yours as he tries to not allow his own breaking heart to stand in the way of what mattered most right now. “I will do whatever it takes no matter how hard it is, I promise.”

Yeosang

This had to be a cruel joke. A nightmare that he would wake up from and he'd be lying next to you, the two of you blissfully happy. No matter how many times he closed his eyes and reopened them. The reality staring him straight in the face as you lay unresponsive and breathing in your comatose state in the hospital bed. Tears glistening in his eyes as he begged over and over while holding your clammy hand. “Please come back to me y/n… we'll take as much time as you need to get through this… just come back to me my love.”

San

He couldn't believe this had happened. Somehow he was even more ecstatic about being a parent then you were, and than that excitement morphed into tragedy that snuffed out the happiness that you had shared with him. You had rarely seen San cry. Though now he was as distraught as you were as he held you to his chest. “This can't be real!”

Mingi

One moment the two of you were picking out nursery colors and cute mobiles, the next you were in the hospital in a state of shock and sorrow that had washed away those happy plans like a tsunami. Mingi felt numb from the soul sucking grief and unsure of what to do. It was so sudden, so unimaginable. He stayed by your side waiting until you came out of the shock induced stupor. “It hurts like a fucking bitch. But I'm thankful you're still alive.”

Wooyoung

Why did this have to happen to you and him? Who the hell allowed this to happen to the both of you and fuck them! Those were only a few of the questions that ran through his mind as he consoled you. Anger and bitterness ran rampant and mingled with the deep sadness that was eating away at him as he watched you become incoherent from sobbing and clinging to him as if he were a lifeline. “It's going to work out,” He tried to sound convincing, “We've still got each other and we'll get through this together… every step of the way.”

Jongho

Jongho had seen tragedy happen countless times in his favorite kdramas. But nothing could have prepared him for the magnitude of pain that shrouded your lives when you lost the baby. It was unthinkable. And yet, here you were in his arms crying so hard that you could barely breathe. Worrying him further that you could actually have a heart attack or some other condition as a result of the overwhelming grief. “Shhh y/n, please I don't want to lose you as well, my heart is also breaking and life will be meaningless if I lose you as well...”

[clownery-and-fuckery]

Alright buckle up here's my actual genuine reaction....

First episode:

First of all, I regret asking for more Hemlock, this was fantastically awful, I will not be recovering.

Second of all, that shaved clone has done things to me. Horrible, horrid things that made me actually pause it and look away. It made me physically ill, it was the worst. Great, but the worst.

The passage of time really did fucking get to me BUT HER LITTLE PONYTAIL UGH

crosshair..... I need a moment

EMERIE !!!! CANT STAND HER !!!!!!!!!!! SNITCH ASS BITCH

I literally don't care that she was allowed to keep the doll, btw. I dont give a shit. I hope Emerie dies in a fire.

nala se.... ew............

I think the whole episode was just pure horror, it was so fucking disgusting to watch, idk about you guys but watching the clone who had probably faced the true horror of SCI-FI warfare crying alone in his cell genuinely had me pausing the episode. Really great work there, Jennifer, I will be billing you for my therapy

Crosshair and Omega bonding !!! The little "What's your mission objective" was definitely a tactic he used on his brothers to have them pay attention, I refuse to acknowledge that he's the youngest, he just isn't. That's big brother keeping his little brother(s) on task behaviour.

Everything about Hemlock gave me chills. I love him. I hate him. I hope his guts cover the screen. I am fascinated by him.

I had a sneaking suspicion Emerie was taken under Hemlock's wing, and her undoing will be her endless loyalty to him... they did not have to say it as obviously as that, though. Glad they did.

Crosshair is sick. There is no way you show us all these sick, dying clones then Crosshair and expect us not to figure that out. He's going to die. His shaking is just the first symptom. I am not ready.

I definitely have more smaller notes I will make once I am not sobbing hysterically about it !!!!

Episode two!!:

This is the one that made me cry, actually.

Watching Wrecker and Hunter march in, quiet and covered in countless injuries, made me so sad. I couldnt recognise them. Those aren't my lads.

Wrecker begging hunter not to go because people didn't make it back.... hunter I get you're desperate, but you will NOT survive another brother being killed. I can't bear to watch him tear himself apart and neither can Wrecker.

WEEPED LIKE AN ACTUAL BABY WHEN I SAW THOSE CLONE BABIES.... THEYRE TOO YOUNG.

"99ers???" THERES FUCKING MORE ??????? I want to know the lore behind this line particularly.

Theyre so cute..... they're so CUTE ugh sedate me immediately

THE WAY HUNTER WAS LOST AT THE START BTW WITH THE TECH AND HE WAS GETTING FRUSTRATED AND HE IMMEDIATELY LOOKED TO OMEGAS STUFF AND LET HIS GRIP LOOSEN ON THE DATAPAD HE WSS THINKING OF HIS YOUNGEST TWO SIBLINGS I WILL NEVER FUCKING RECOVER DAVID AND JENNIFER LET THEM BE HAPPY !!!!!!!!!!!!!

anyways that little fucker who was good with tech..... I see you. I love you.

They were so used to letting Tech do his thing.... they immediately moved to cover fire....... for a second they forgot it wasnt him, I'm weak

THE CRATE FROM S1 YOU HORRIBLE BASTARDS WHEN WILL YOU LET ME DIE

wrecker playing with the kids..... laughing with them....... ohh i will not cope when he dies.

Hes going to die, btw. In case you didn't know. I know. I am aware. I am unprepared. I dont want to discuss it.

PABU..... THEYRE GOING TO PABU WHEN I TELL YOU I SOBBED. MY MOTHER HAD TO HOLD ME. I WAS INCONSOLABLE FOR FIFTEEN WHOLE MINUTES!!!!!!

i cannot express my feelings for this episode.

Episode three!!!!!!:

I want that man. Yes, i do mean that masked man we saw for two seconds, I want him.

The Emperor had me actually screaming. I was so hyped. He scares me so bad.

Hemlock!!!!!! Evil !!!!!!!! CUNT !!!!!!!!!!!!

nala se was so obvious about her "Get tf out" speech..... why don't you say it louder, the whole fucking room couldn't hear you

The fucking timer. Chills. CHILLS.

Crosshair and Omega !!!! He was so unserious I love that

....sorry to all the lovers tho, have to say i DIED laughing at his "gUaRdS"

And the SCREAM he scrumpt when the door opened, who allowed that 😭😭 it was so fucking funny whbeisbwiba

They were so messy this entire ep, they're everything to me......

"Of course he did" DO YOU WANT ME TO FUCKING DIE ?!?!?!? WHO FUCKING GAVE YOU THE RIGHT CAUSE IT WASNT FUCKING ME

Crosshairs trigger finger shaking so bad he gave his position away....... that's a major fucking problem, isn't it? That's gonna bite him in the ass.

I want more of Hemlock having a damn tantrum, that was fantastic. Him this season has me in a chokehold. I can't wait to write more of him.

This entire season so far is amazing. I can't wait to watch more, there are so many more points I wanna make, I'm freaked. I'm so happy, I'm still crying, I can't wait I can't wait I can't wait !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Making more coherent thoughts about them soon <3

[basu-shokikita]

Kloktober 2023 Day 6

Comedy or Tragedy

I'm primarily someone that loves both consuming and writing comedy but I have to say that Metalocalypse, besides being funny, is ripe with angst potential. Because of that, I struggled choosing one for this day. Eventually, I managed to come up with something…and here it is.

Hope you enjoy!

Toki clung to Skwisgaar, sobbing inconsolably on his shoulder. “No, it can’t ends like dat!” He hiccuped. “It amsn’t fair!”

Skwisgaar, though less emotionally overt, had tears in his eyes. “It ams…like dat…”

“No!” Toki yelled, banging on his own thighs. “No! Please!”

Skwisgaar watched him sadly, fighting off the tears.

“It can’ts…” Toki’s voice got lower. “I can’ts…No…No…”

Wiping his eyes, Skwisgaar patted him awkwardly. “It will be okays…eventuallskies…”

“But hows?” Toki insisted, his eyes red and cheeks wet. “Hows can it evers?” He buried his face in his hands. “Hows…”

Skwisgaar tried to speak, but his voice didn’t come out. He cleared his throat, voice broken when he talked. “You has to believes…One deys…”

“Hows can you be okays when you lost it alls?!!” Toki turned to Skwisgaar and the latter looked at him with so much despair in his eyes. “Oh, Skwisgaar…my hearts broken…” He sniffed.

“I knows…” Skwisgaar nodded slowly. “Never thoughts…dis could happens… toes us…” He rubbed his eyes, in an attempt to regain his composure, instead breaking down in front of Toki.

“Oh, no, Skwisgaar…” Toki cupped Skwisgaar’s face with worry.

“Everythingks ams so frails…” Skwisgaar looked to the side, distraught. “In da blinks of an eyes…it can goes away…”

Wordlessly, Toki wiped the tears off Skwisgaar’s face with his thumb. “Don’t cries…” He whispered, while crying himself. 

Dark blue eyes met icy ones. “Toki…” Skwisgaar pleaded his name, like he was about to break into pieces.

“Skwisgaar…”

Pickles walked in with a bong and almost dropped it over the sight. “Whu….Whut is goin’ on here?!”

Toki turned to the voice, casually letting go of Skwisgaar. “Oh, Pickle!” He rubbed his nose. “We were watchings um, whats it calls…”

“Da Broker’s Mount Ann…” Skwisgaar sadly, drying his face with his shirt. 

“The Brother’s Mob Plan…” Toki repeatedly wrongly, just as sad.

Pickles’ eyes went from the rolling credits on the TV, to Skwisgaar and Toki, to finally the DVD box on the table. Something seemed to click on his brain, because he sighed and went. “Ye mean…Brokeback Mounteen?”

“Ja, dat’s what we says.” Skwisgaar raised an eyebrow.

“Moidaface says it was a cows boy movies…” Toki explained, looking down pathetically. “We thoughts they would has horses and has gun fights…”

“Fuckingks Moidaface…” Skwisgaar cursed under his breath. “It was so fuckingks depresskings…”

“Ye guys are so fucken stoopid…” Pickles said, to no one in particular. “Who hasn’t heerd of Brokeback Mounteen?”

“He mades us watch a gay movies and cries about it!” Toki ignored him, getting progressively angry instead. “We should…We should kills him!”

“Ja!” Skwisgaar stood up in agreement. “He mades us gays! We amsn’t gays! Lets kill hims!”

“Uh, I think you are pretty ghey…” Pickles commented and took a bong rip before flopping on the couch. “I mean, ye were like-”

“Let’s go, Skwisgaar!” Toki decided, standing up too. “We can burns his dicks while he ams sleepings!”

“We cans drop a huge pianosk on his stupids, uglies dick!” Skwisgaar suggested, with a mischievous smirk. 

“Yeah!” Toki cheered and they left, mumbling and cackling about the possible suffering they could inflict on Murderface. 

Pickles watched them go with disbelief, a cloud of smoke surrounding him. “Denial ain’t just a river in Egypt, or somethin’.”

[ronancexists]

Ronance/Platonic Stobin drabble that may become a story if I have the motivation for it (and if enough people that like it and actually want more) 😅

~~~

Robin huffed exhaustedly as she flopped onto Nancy's bed, ignoring the other woman's huff of annoyance as the sudden movement jostled the papers that had been spread out on the cover.

"Rough day?" Nancy asked, gathering the papers she had been using to study for her upcoming calculus test in her arms and setting them on the nightstand. She then shifted her gaze to Robin, who had flung an arm across her face while Nancy adjusted herself so she was lying on her back, turning her head to stare at Robin.

"The roughest," Robin agreed.

"Want to talk about it?" Nancy offered.

Robin merely shook her head, removing her arm so she could meet Nancy's gaze.

Nancy's entire demeanor softened when she noticed the red-rimmed and teary eyes. "Come here," she murmured, holding her arms out as an invitation.

Robin accepted the invitation, diving into Nancy's arms just as a fresh round of sobs escaped her. Her entire chest was heaving as tears streamed down her face, creating a wet spot on one of Nancy's favorite shirts.

The journalist would worry about that later. For now, her sole focus was on her beautiful yet devastated girlfriend who was an inconsolable mess in her arms.

"It's ok Robs, I'm here," Nancy whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of Robin's head as her arms tightened around the younger woman. "I'm here, I've got you."

Robin let out a choked whimper, nails digging into Nancy's arms. She wanted to tell Nancy, she did, but she couldn't get the words out. The memory had been replaying in her mind on a loop since she had left Family Video in a rush.

~~~

Robin arched an eyebrow as Steve sighed in boredom for what had to be the millionth time since their shift started less than an hour ago. "Knock it off, dingus," she said.

"But Robbie, I'm sooooo bored," he said, looking at her with sad puppy dog eyes.

She merely rolled her eyes at the childish man. "Really? I couldn't tell."

"You're so mean," Steve said, sticking his tongue out as Robin flicked him off.

"But you love me anyways," Robin said through a grin, ignoring the flicker of guilt that passed through her at the fact that Steve still didn't know that she and Nancy had become a thing.

After everything that happened at Starcourt, Steve had been the one to drive Robin to the Byers home, where everything about the Upside Down had been explained to her, starting from Will's disappearance all the way up to what she had just witnessed at the mall.

Of course, it wasn't an easy explanation to get through as everyone wanted to contribute and pitch in their own versions of what they had experienced, but they managed to get through it with a question here and there from Robin.

Much to everyone's surprise, she had taken everything in stride. Though they supposed it was much easier to take in after you had witnessed the Mind Flayer and been drugged and tortured by evil Russians.

Everyone spent that night at the Byers, dispersed throughout the living room. The older teens took the couches while the younger ones piled onto the floor in a mountain of blankets and pillows and intertwined limbs.

Steve and Robin fell asleep a few inches apart on the couch, but when they woke up, Steve's arm was around Robin's waist and his head was resting on her shoulder, puffs of breath hitting the freckled woman's neck. They sprang apart rather quickly, but after a few nights, it became their thing.

And a few days after that, Robin unofficially moved with Steve. With both of their parents never home, she was practically at his house every day. She got her own bedroom, but one of them always ended up in the other's bed. Steve started driving her to and from work, even on nights they weren't scheduled together (which was a rare occasion).

A few weeks later, Nancy had called out of the blue to check up on Robin and see how she was handling everything. The younger woman confessed that she was still having nightmares and sought out Nancy's advice on how to make them disappear. Nancy offered to come pick her up and take them somewhere to go eat, and Robin readily agreed.

Their friendship was tentative, but after everything that had happened with Vecna/Henry/One, it blossomed. Nancy had never met anyone like Robin, who so easily went along with her ideas, never doubting her for even a second. Someone who was sarcastic and intelligent and quite the rambler. She had also never met a woman as beautiful as Robin, and it made her question everything she thought she knew about herself, especially when Robin finally worked up the courage to tell her that she was into girls.

After Robin's nervous confession, it was like everything clicked into place for Nancy. Without hesitation, she cupped Robin's cheeks in her hands and leaned in, pressing her lips against Robin's as she had been dreaming about for days. She had thought she had made a horrible mistake and was on the verge of pulling away when Robin finally reciprocated the kiss. Electricity crackled between them, running through their veins and leaving them absolutely breathless and dazed when they finally pulled apart.

Shortly after, the two began dating, though not without a thorough conversation about everything that had happened between Nancy and Steve. Nancy confessed that yes, she had hurt Steve, but he had also hurt her by trying to pretend as though nothing ever happened, as if her best friend in the entire world, Barb, hadn't been murdered by some vicious creature in a haunted world that mirrored their town.

Robin told Nancy that Steve was her best friend, her platonic partner, and that yes, she really, really liked Nancy and absolutely wanted to date her and be her girlfriend, but she didn't want to do anything that would hurt him or make him feel as though Robin had betrayed him.

Nancy reassured Robin that Steve wanted nothing more than for the both of them to be happy, and that he wouldn't have a problem with the two of them being together. She understood that if Robin really believed they shouldn't be together because of him, she would step away from the younger woman, as heartbreaking as it would be to do so.

Robin was certain she fell even harder for Nancy in that moment, and pressed a firm, loving kiss to the journalist's lips. "Wish me luck," she said.

"Good luck," Nancy said, chastely kissing Robin before she escorted her downstairs and to the front door, where Steve was waiting to pick her up so they could head to work together.

That had been earlier in the day, and now, Robin's heart was beating ferociously in her chest. Her hands felt sweaty, her eyes were zeroing in on everything except for Steve, and her mouth felt extremely dry. She couldn't help but to fiddle with her rings, inhaling and exhaling deeply to try and calm her nerves.

Of course with Steve being an expert on everything Robin, he instantly sensed the shift in the air, a concerned frown adorning his face when he noticed Robin was playing with her rings. She only did that when she was extremely bored or when she was utterly nervous about something. "You alright Robbie?" he asked, brow pinching in concern as she looked at him with wide, frightened eyes.

"Y-yeah, yeah, of course. Everything is completely and totally fine. Why wouldn't it be? I'm working with my absolute best friend in the entire world who happens to be none other than Steve "the Hair" Harrington. Hey, don't you think it's funny that your nickname also matches your last name? Because I do. I think it's absolutely hilarious, actually. Even though it's not spelled the same as the type of hair that's on your head, it still makes for a really funny thing. God, it's really hot in here. It's making my head spin. Is your head spinning, Stevie? Because mine is."

"Robin," Steve interrupted, placing his hands on his friend's shoulders. "Breathe with me. In, and out. In, and out," he instructed, exaggerating his own breathing until Robin's breaths were slowing down and matching his. "There ya go. Nice and easy."

"Thanks," she whispered, pressing her forehead against his shoulder, wrapping her arms around him tight.

"You're welcome," he replied, hugging her just as tight. "Want to tell me what that was all about?" Steve questioned as they pulled apart, looking at her expectantly.

"Not particularly, no," she said, slender fingers instantly going to twist her rings around and around and around.

"You know you can tell me anything," Steve insisted, staring directly into Robin's eyes to prove he was serious, his frown returning when Robin tore her eyes away from his own.

"Promise you won't get mad? That you'll let me explain?" she asked, and Steve absolutely hated how her voice trembled.

"I promise Robbie, I swear it."

Robin inhaled sharply, steeling herself before meeting his concerned gaze. "I'm dating Nancy."

She flinched away from Steve as though she was expecting him to hit her. What she didn't expect was for Steve to brace himself on the counter, in absolute tears due to how hard he was laughing.

"You! A-and Nancy!" he spluttered, gasping for air as he continued to chuckle. "That's a good one. Really, that was fantastic. Oh, you just made my day."

Robin scowled, hands on her hips as she sent a death glare his way. "I'm being serious, you asshole."

Steve looked up at Robin, his amusement fading into confusion. "You're serious?"

"Yes, dingus. I'm serious. Nancy and I have been together for a few weeks now. I've been dying to tell you but I didn't know how to. I know you guys hurt one another and you're slowly becoming friends again and I didn't want to do anything to jeopardize that but God, Steve, Nancy is absolutely amazing. She's passionate and brilliant and kind and a badass and cares so deeply even though she's been so badly hurt in the past and she doesn't even—"

"You and Nancy?!" Steve exclaimed, his voice rising in pitch. "You and Nancy Wheeler?! The very same Nancy Wheeler you declared was a priss in the bathroom at Starcourt?! The Nancy Wheeler you know tore my heart up before stomping on it?! Nancy Wheeler, Mike's older sister Nancy Wheeler?!"

"Yes Steve, that Nancy Wheeler!" Robin shouted back in exasperation. "Do you know another badass woman named Nancy Wheeler?!"

Steve's mouth flailed open and shut as he tried to come up with a response.

Robin softened as she took notice of how confused and hurt Steve was. "I never meant to hurt you, Stevie. That's why I'm telling you. I'm just a girl whose in love with another girl who happens to be your ex. That's all."

"That's all?" Steve repeated sarcastically, venom dripping off every word. "Robin, you know what she did to me. You know how much she hurt me and how devastated I was. Hell, you were the one to comfort me when I would get down on myself about our relationship and talked me out of calling her like the drunken idiot we both know I can be! Was that all just some ploy to keep me from her so you could have her all to yourself?!"

Robin narrowed her eyes at her friend, ignoring the tears that were beginning to gather due to Steve's accusation. "No, Steve, it's nothing like that. I fell for Nancy because of who she is, not because it would hurt you. That's the whole reason I wanted to talk to you. I didn't want to keep this from you any longer because I knew you would react like this!"

"Like what?!"

"Like this! Accusing me of shit you know I would never do! You're my best friend, Steve James Harrington, and I would never do anything that would jeopardize our friendship!"

"Well you did, Robin! Out of all the girls in Hawkins to date, you chose Nancy!"

"You know that I have to be careful and that I actually don't have many options in this small, homophobic, bumfuck of a town," Robin growled, practically nose to nose with Steve.

"Well it's not my fault that it's unnatural, now is it?"

Both of them froze in place as soon as the question dropped from his lips, Robin heartbroken and in disbelief while Steve was horrified and shocked.

"Rob, I—"

"Fuck you, Steve," she spat, ripping her Family Video vest off her person and slamming it onto the counter, enjoying how it made Steve flinch.

Steve faltered as he reached out for Robin, the devastation and resignation in her eyes breaking his heart more than Nancy ever did.

"You are the one person I trusted," Robin said, swallowing past the lump in her throat. "I never thought in a million years that you of all people would be the one I trusted with that part of myself, because you were an absolute douchebag in high school. But you managed to get me to open up to you and despite all of my instincts telling me not to, I did. I trusted you because you weren't King Steve anymore, but clearly I was wrong. You haven't changed, and you never will."

With that, Robin rushed past Steve and out the door. She ran straight to Steve's car, grabbed her bike out of the trunk, and pedaled as hard and as fast as she could, ignoring Steve's desperate calls for her to come back. She paid no attention to the tears streaming down her face. There was only one thing on her mind.

She needed to get to Nancy.

~~~

Nancy wasn't sure how much time had passed since Robin had broken down in her arms. All she knew was that something had to have gone terribly wrong between Robin and Steve for her girlfriend to be so inconsolable and so obviously crushed.

"I've got you Robin, I promise. I'm here for you, whatever you need," Nancy vowed quietly so as not to further overwhelm her girlfriend.

"Thank you," Robin replied, her voice even raspier than normal.

"There's no need to thank me," the journalist said, smiling down at the the younger teen.

"I got snot all over your favorite shirt," Robin mumbled, a small grin appearing as Nancy chuckled.

"You're more important than a shirt, Robin."

"Mmhmm," she agreed through a yawn, snuggling closer to Nancy.

Nancy simply held her girlfriend tighter, running a hand through Robin's hair to help soothe her to sleep. "I love you, Robin."

"Love you too, Nance," she said, looking at the curly-haired brunette with half-lidded eyes.

"I'll be here when you wake," Nancy assured her, absolutely melting when Robin promptly closed her eyes and dozed off within minutes.

While she wasn't sure about the specifics of what went down between the two friends, she was sure about one thing.

Steve Harrington was a dead man.

[twistedbunni]

I'm Sorry It Ends Like This

A/N: contains spoilers from about manga ch. 114 on just to be safe. Reader's death at the hands of Mikey, quite literally. Angst with a little sprinkling of love/affection. Little messed up in the head kinda talk/writing towards the end so ⚠️ (I didn't know if it'd warrant a dead dove warning or not but tagged as such)

Summary: Mikey pays you a final visit before heading off to the ruins, in order to say goodbye and tie up long forgotten loose ends. You both reminisce on the past and the man that once was Shinichiro Sano, your childhood crush.

Your tv was on, set to some random news channel that was currently broadcasting about another murder that had recently occured. You in all honestly were only half listening to the words being spoken by the broadcasters, sitting at your kitchen table on the verge of disassociating with the only thing keeping you tied to reality being the hot mug in your hands and the occasional mention of a familiar name from the television.

One by one all of the original Toman gang was being wiped out, killed off by the man they once devoted their lives to, and you knew before long you'd hear death knocking at your door too.

While you'd never been a member of Toman, you grew up close to the Sano family, studying in the dojo the grandfather ran. You were practically another member of the family back then, spending all your free time hanging out with Emma or watching Shinichiro work on a bike. Admittedly you'd had a crush on the older male, but with you only being a year or so older than Mikey you'd known you'd never stand at having those feelings be returned.

Regardless you'd never given up, always bringing Shinichiro little gifts like chocolates or decals you'd find that you thought would look good on one of his bikes. He'd always made sure to give you a ruffle on your head as thank you for the gifts, sometimes even offering you a ride on the latest bike he'd finished as a way to pay you back. You were in every way possible smitten with him in the way only a young teen would understand. He was your first love, and when he died you took it incredibly hard.

When Emma had told you about his passing you'd fallen to your knees Infront of her, heartbroken and sobbing on the Sano's front steps. For months you were inconsolable, a husk of a person going through the motions of life: Sleep, go to school, train at dojo, do your work, then cry till you fell asleep, repeat. Eventually when you did 'get better' you slowly stopped going to the dojo and hanging around the Sano family in general. Seeing them only reminded you of the love you'd lost and with Mikey starting his own gang you didn't want to be around it all anymore. Though you did occasionally ask mutual friends about how the siblings were doing for a few years after that.

Now here you sat however many year later, you'd lost count honestly, waiting for your old friend to visit. When you heard the knock at the door you moved on autopilot, moving mindlessly to let in the person you'd been expecting to come.

"Come in Manjiro. I've got some Dorayaki prepared for you at the table already." Your unfocused eyes caught his as you opened your door, ushering him in.

"So you've been expecting me then?" His smile was weak, eyes filled with a sadness you knew had been brewing inside him for years.

Sitting down across from him at your little table, you gave a smile filled with your own sadness. "You're old friends have all been killed, I knew you'd come for me too eventually."

"I see... well truthfully I wanted to save you for last." He bit into one of the buns, savoring the flavor for a moment before continuing. "I wanted you to be the last one I kill before I meet my own end."

"Are you planning a murder suicide with me?" Your voice was flat, absent of any emotions you'd expect someone to have when they asked a question as serious as that.

"No, I plan on spending my last night in Tokyo with you. I leave tomorrow to go out to that set of ruins Shini found those engines in. My end will be there at the hands of an old friend." He spoke so casually as if he was telling you about vacation plans instead of plotting his own demise.

"I see..." Taking a long sip from your mug, you thought over his words. "May I ask what makes me so special? Like why am I last?"

He was silent a moment, dark eyes calmly scanning over you. "If I'd taken your life before anyone else's, I would have been disappointing my brother."

"What do you mean by that?"

He finished off the Dorakayi bun he'd been eating and wiped his hands off on his pants before reaching over to gently hold one of your own hands in his. "Shini adored you, not in the same way you adored him though. He always told me how good of a person he thought you were and honestly he hoped you'd find someone that could return your feelings."

Tears prickled in your eyes at hearing that your childhood love had felt some kind of fondess for you. "He did? I guess I let him down then considering I never moved on from him."

Mikey wiped your eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. "I doubt he'd be upset at you for never falling in love. I know I'm somewhat relieved you never moved on from him in that sense."

"It just hurt so much after he died... I never wanted to feel that heartbreak again and I've missed him everyday since." You voice was soft, filled with heartbreak.

"I know the feeling, I also lost the person I loved, basically the same day I lost Shinichiro." There was a familiar sadness in his voice, the same kind you often heard in your own.

"You- you loved someone back then too?" Surprise was evident on your voice and face. Never did you think Mikey would have a crush on someone, especially back then when he seemed to be all about starting his own gang and all that. He always seemed too cool and carefree to ever develop feelings for anyone.

Mikey's smile turned into a more genuine one and he gave a small chuckle. "Yea, I did." He sat back in his seat, grabbing your mug and taking a sip from it as he averted his gaze for a moment. "I loved you back then... I still do actually. I admired that you never let yourself get discouraged from liking my big bro. I know he was not always that great of a person and he'd never be able to return your feelings but you never let that stop you from loving him. I guess I thought it was cool someone else thought my big bro was amazing too and I started feeling the same way for you as you felt for him."

A long silence held in the air for a few minutes as you processed his words and he continued to eat a few more Dorayaki buns.

"I'm sorry I left..." Voice hoarse from all the emotions flowing through you.

"Its fine. I never hated you for it, I knew exactly why you chose to leave." His hand reheld onto yours, comforting you even if only a little. "I think I would have done the same honestly. Seeing you would've also brought memories of Shinichiro, specifically all the times he'd brag about the little gifts you'd given him inorder to make me jealous or when he'd tell me I should man up and act upon my own feelings."

"I regret leaving sometimes, especially after I heard about Emma... I should have returned and been there for you." All the regrets and apologizes you held deep inside began bubbling to your surface now that Mikey was Infront of you cementing your demise with his presence. "You must have felt so alone after everything that's happened to you and I left at just the start of it all because I couldn't handle my own pain. I should have been there for you! If it was possible Shinichiro would have probably scolded me for abandoning you both after his death."

Mikey was beside you in an instant, pulling you into his arms and snapping you out of your internal self destruction. "Stop blaming yourself! Even if you had never left we'd still be in the same spot as we are now. I never blamed you for anything, neither did Emma and I'm sure my big bro wouldn't have either. Fate fucked all of us up, there was no feasible way for anyone to see just how bad things would become for the both of us."

Even after hearing his words you couldn't help from sobbing into his chest. All these years of masking the ache you'd felt was catching up to you and there was no stopping it from flowing out of you now that you've started to release it. You heard of every misfortune in Mikey's life and added it to your own pain everytime, from the struggles of Toman to the deaths of his friends and Emma. Every piece weighed on your heart as if you were the one that had caused them all by leaving after Shinichiro passed.

Not long after your tears stopped flowing and your breathing returned to normal after sobbing so hard, Mikey suggested the pair of you go lay down in your bed. All the exhaustion of letting out years of bottled emotions made you nod your head on agreement almost instantly after he'd suggested resting.

"Just rest now, I promise everything is gonna be okay and that you won't have to feel the burden of heartache for much longer." Mikey held you in his arms with all the affection the pair of you thought you'd never get to feel. "I know I said earlier I saved you for last because of how my brother felt about you but honestly I think I mainly chose to kill you last because of my own feelings. Truthfully Im an asshole who fears feeling the same pain you felt, having to live my life knowing my love is dead. I could handle living without you in my life knowing your living your own life but the thought of me being alive while your dead makes me feel ill."

Your brain was far too tired to respond to his ramblings with words of your own, so you sleepily just gave a hum and let your heavy lids shut over your eyes.

"I'd be lying if I said the thought of us dying together tonight didn't crossing my mind, but I know Id only be tarnishing your death tonight by adding my own. You deserve to be found alone so you can be mourned and not found with my own body bringing in all the attention or gossip of why you're with a wanted man like me. People would think poorly of you if they thought you had anything to do with me." He moved to lie you down beside him as he sat up somewhat over your sleeping frame. "Besides I already plan on going out at the hands of someone else. He actually reminds me alot of my brother funnily enough. I wish you could have met him sometime, and maybe it would have helped you move on from Shini. Regardless it's too late for any of that, and I know he won't be the one to actually kill me in the end but it'll still be nice to see him one last time too before I go."

All was silent now that Mikey had quit rambling to your sleeping form. He sat there watching you sleep for what felt like a blissful eternity to him, a hand of his snaking up to caress your neck. His fingers traced up and down the front of your throat a few times, feeling the steady pulse beneath his touch.

He knew he had to do end this eventually. He'd have to wrap his hands around your delicate neck and squeeze at some point soon before all his resolve left him. He knew strangulation was a more personal ways of killing someone since he'd have to look you in the eyes as he did it and hold longer than he'd think so you'd actually pass away and not just pass out. You deserved something more personal and intimate than just a bullet to the head or heart, sure those would end you quick but they were to heartless in his opinion.

He took a deep breath, mustering all his resolve as his hands circled your neck and began to tighten his grasp till he knew you'd have no room for oxygen to move in and out. You're eyes had opened from the shock, though once you'd realized what was happening you'd shut them again. Mikey hoped from the flash of a smile on your lips that in the haze of these final moments of yours, you'd mistaken him for Shinichiro.

Once it was all said and done, he'd planted a peck on your lips then laid back down beside you. Holding your limp form for this final time as he let his own exhaustion take over him. Tomorrow morning he would get up, say a final goodbye to you before slipping unseen out of your place and anonymously report your death before heading off to his own place of death.

Tonight though he wanted to hold you till he was sure your soul had passed over to the afterlife and hopefully you'd tell his brother and sister that he too would see them soon.

[deathbxnny]

Hi bro may I request something similar with the "mind-controlled" Yanqing...an alt ending where reader ends up dead. I'm a sucker for angst 😔

-----♡

A/N: This request lowkey took me off guard and made me laugh a little, because I love how it went from a cute little hurt/comfort fic to "Yeah nah, just kill the reader off actually". Poor Yanqing honestly lmao-

Content: Reader dies, hurt/no comfort, mind control, heavy angst, Mentions of lethal injury, mentions of blood, yeah just agony lol

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not fully proofread))

-----♡

Yanqing didn't know what happened. His mind was fuzzy and scrambled, his memories of what happened earlier foggy. He opened his eyes and shook his head with a hiss, your name weakly leaving his lips instinctively, which earned him a soft, weak whisper of his. Yanqing's mind cleared then, his eyes looking around for Kafka, yet not spotting her anywhere.

"Where did she go...?" "She left a moment ago... I'm glad you've finally snapped out of it. I was worried about you-"

You coughed heavily, your sentence cutting off, which caught his attention instantly. He looked at you, his heart dropping in terror at the sight. Then he noticed his bloodied sword in your chest, your hands weakly gripping it in pain. But your eyes stayed on him, free from any anger or contempt. Had he done this? It hit him then, that Kafka had used her abilities on him. He has hurt you.

He stumbled to your side, his hand grabbing onto the sword in panic, as tears welled up in his eyes. He felt horrible, his heart shattering. This was his fault. He wasn't careful enough. He swore to protect you and yet was the one to now cause your demise. And the worst part was, that there was nothing he could do. You knew it. He knew it. And he hated it. He hated himself.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry-!" "-It's okay. I'm happy you're here with me."

You gave him a weak smile, one that usually would comfort him. But in this moment, he was absolutely inconsolable. Your blood drenched through his clothes, spilled over his hands from your wound and your breathing was becoming weak. There was no way out of this. It was over.

Your hand reached out, gently tucking his long hair behind his ear. You wanted him to be the last thing you saw. You'd find him in another life. You knew you would. And he'd wait for you patiently, he swore it. But in this moment, Yanqing realised he didn't want to wait. He wanted you here with him now. But the light was fading from your eyes, your breathing stuttering to a halt as you whispered your last words to him. He nearly didn't catch them over his own heavy, panicked breathing.

"It's not your fault... I'll see you again one day, I promise."

Your hand slipped off his face, leaving behind your warm red blood across his cheek, as you last breath left your lungs. You stared through him, up at the bright, sunny skies. A smile was etched into your features, but it was dull and cold, the warmth having left alongside the light in your eyes.

Yanqing just sat there for a moment, all alone, as he stared in silent horror. The silence was deafening, until it was filled with his own heartbreaking sobs, as he collapsed over your lifeless body.

Unheard apologies filling the air.

-----♡

A/N: So uh, I hope this was alright! I'm not sure if it's sad enough, but oh well, I did my best. Thank you for the request btw!<33

[kingdom0fcards]

Hearts Broken On My Back With The Lights On.

Pairing: Noah Sebastian/Nicholas Ruffilo

Content Warnings: death and mourning

Title from Walking On Gravestones by I See Stars

A/N: I listened to Feel Something by Movements and sobbed when writing this, idk why I'm on a sad fic kick recently but I like them

Noah says he feels like a cold graveyard that no one visits anymore, one that's lost by time and taken back by the earth.

Maybe he's more right than he thinks.

He haunts what he used to know, walking around his apartment like a husk of his former self, going to his room to sulk for hours.

When he does leave, he doesn't come back for hours. No one knows where he goes, they never will.

He visits that graveyard, going to the only gravestone never forgotten. He cleans it, taking the foliage off the stone and scrubbing it so he can read the name. He replaces the flowers every time, every week.

He visits twice a week, sitting on the same patch of grass every time. Noah leans his head on the side of the gravestone, like it's his shoulder and he's still here.

But it's cold and hard. But he's not here.

The stone digs into his skin a bit too much when he hugs it, it's not soft and smooth. Sometimes he gets cuts, blood getting on the stone. Maybe that'll bring him back, like a ritual.

But it doesn't.

His world used to be so bright, so happy, and now his world is rotting in the ground. He's probably a skeleton by now, all the art adorned on his body gone and his beautiful features only captured in old pictures.

He wish he could accept it. He wishes he can accept that he's gone. But he can't.

Noah sobs and tells the stone that he misses him.

"I miss you... I wish you were still around," he takes breathes between his sobbed out sentences, it feels like he's suffocating, "it's our anniversary." his throat feels tight, "happy five years, Nick."

Tears roll down his face as he hugs the stone, accidentally crushing the flowers he brought. Roses were always his favorite, he even tattooed one on Noah. It was painful, getting it on his knee, but it was a fond memory that he'll forever treasure.

They met when they were young, getting together five years after that and laughing at how repressed their emotions for each other were. People said they should've gotten together sooner, oh how right they were.

Noah losing him three years after they got together was the worst thing that's ever happened to him.

It was a day before Valentine's Day. Snow was falling and they were dancing in their kitchen, laughing, unaware of what the phone ringing would do to them. Nick answered, said he had to leave because of an emergency and Noah understood, giving him a kiss goodbye.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

Noah got a call hours later that he died, his world collapsed. He fell to his knees, sobbing and inconsolable, just like how he always is at his gravestone.

His tears stain the top of the stone a darker grey, the droplets disappearing in a bigger sea of the grey as it starts to rain. His tears covered by the droplets of water coming from the dark sky.

He doesn't move, only hugs the grave tighter and only leaving when the graveyard closes. He walks home soaking wet, still sniffling slightly as he walks into his apartment. Going into his room, he gets into his bed, not bothering taking his wet clothes off.

On his nightstand, his phone glows with a new notification but he looks at the picture of his lockscreen, he starts sobbing again.

He misses him so much.

[theboysfromaustin]

December 10, 2009

Ian stood in front of the photo, quietly praying.  He didn't pray much, hadn't in many, many years, but old Catholic habits die hard.  There were departed souls he would pray for - his parents, Charles, Shirley, Kensuke, Yukiko and Nanami, and…

A tear worked its way down his cheek as he stared at the photo.  Gav had taken it, and it showed Ian and Jeremy dancing together, their bodies close, staring adoringly into one other’s eyes.

His lower lip quivered.  It had been 11 months since then, 10 since Jeremy had died.  It still hurt.  A great deal.  A song lyric popped into his head - This pain in my head comes straight from my heart.  His stomach was in knots, and he whimpered.  Gav was in the kitchen, and Kazuo was sleeping on the couch.

Ian went upstairs, tense, and crawled into bed, pulling the blankets over his head.  He pulled his legs to a chest, head pressed into his knees.  I love you, Ian.  You're my sweet, beautiful man.  Jeremy's voice in his head, sweet as ever.  He let out a low whine, tears streaming down his face.  The pain and sadness had festered since Jeremy had left.

He'd done his best to hold it together for his family, but he was unraveling.  Ian let out a choking sob, letting the floodgates open.  With gasping sobs, he tried to rid himself of the agonizing sadness.

“Ian?”

He sobbed harder as Kazuo approached him.  “Hey…” He crawled into bed, cuddling Ian through the blankets, “Honey…” “I want to go ho-o-ome!” “You are home…with me, and Gav…” “No…” Ian whimpered, “I want to go home.” Kazuo burrowed under the blankets, “Home?  Like…England?” “Yes…” Ian groped for him, “I…I've been thinking about Jeremy so much.  I need to go see him, talk to him…”

“But he said that your old friends Don and Henry would…” “Damn them!  I don't care.  If they find me, and if they try anything, I'll beat the shit out of them…” “I…” Kazuo bit his lip as Ian let out a heart-stopping wail.  Gav was up the stairs in seconds, “Hey, Ian?!  Kaz?!” “Gav, he's…” Ian was absolutely inconsolable, curled into himself in a ball of misery.

“Ian?  I'm going to get you a Xanax and some water,” Gav left for the bathroom, while Kazuo cuddled against his boyfriend, trying to calm him.  “Here, sit up…” Gav propped him against Kazuo, popping the pill into his mouth, followed by water, “Okay.  Let's sit for a minute.”

Ian continued sobbing as they leaned on him, caressing his face and hair, nobody speaking.  Soon, Ian's cries subsided as the sedative kicked in.  They lay him back, tucking in the blankets.  “What happened?” “He wants to go home.” “England?” “Yeah, it has something to do with Jeremy.  This poor guy, he's had a hell of a year.” 

“Yeah, so…” Gav looked to Kazuo, “When are we booking our tickets?” “Immediately.  He's clearly got some serious unresolved guilt about Jeremy.” “But…his old friends…” “I'll kill them if I see them.  Go get my laptop,” Kazuo fished out his wallet, “And we're going first class all the way.” Gav nodded, coming back, typing furiously, “You should text Anders.  Or call.  He should come with us, if he can.”  “Should be out of class,” Kazuo started his call.

“Dad?  What's up?” Kazuo exhaled softly, “Hey…Ian had a massive panic attack, started talking about going home.” “Home?” “Yeah.  Manchester.” Anders was quiet for a moment, “Well, tomorrow's the last day of the semester…” “So, we can leave on the 12th.  Gav.” Gav gave him a thumbs up, putting in the information.

Ian groaned, turning onto his side.  Even sedated, he was still crying.  “Uhhh…these tickets…” “Fuck the cost,” Kazuo stroked Ian's hair, “Anders, come over tomorrow night.” “Alright.  Keep an eye on him.” “I will.  Bye, kid,” Kazuo immediately started another call.  Gav watched him, fingers poised over the keyboard.

“Kazuo?”

“Maureen, you scheduled for work the next…” He paused for a second, “Week?  Week and and a half?” “I could get someone to cover, probably.  Why?” “Ian's having a crisis.  We're going to Manchester.  I think he could use you as support.” “I'll call Dave and Joan, see if they can cover.” “Thanks, ma.” Kazuo leaned back, “Alright, I'll call Rosa next door for Martha and Thing-fish.” “We can't…?” “Can't take her into the country, banned breed.”  Kazuo spoke for a few minutes before ending the call, getting the matter settled.

Gav tapped away at the laptop, “Alright, five tickets, first class roundtrip…shit, this is gonna decimate your savings.” “I don't care.  I have more.  Ian needs this,” Kazuo wiped the wetness from Ian's cheek, “He was there for me when I lost my arm and leg.  He took me in when I was this snotty little punk, when he could have told me to fuck off.  He needs to go home.  He needs closure, I'm pretty sure this wound has been festering since his mom and dad died in the 70s.”

Gav booked the tickets, “He's going to be a wreck until we get there, and maybe through the whole trip.” “He needs to get it out of his system.  He needs to know that…that…” Kazuo's hand gripped his knee, “His living family will always watch over him, and that those who are gone still love him.”

Ian whimpered, twitching, crying out.  “Ssshhh, baby,” Gav stroked his hair, “You're going home.  Alright, let me find a hotel.” “Expensive hotel.  The best.” “Kaz, let me -” “No.  I have to do this for him.  It's how I can begin to repay him.” “Alright,” Gav began searching.  “I owe him this and a thousand more,” Kazuo lay down next to Ian, “Without him, I'd be dead.”

“So would I.  Alright, Great John Street hotel…2 rooms?” “Yeah, I don't think Anders and Maureen will complain about sharing a room.  Get big beds.” Gav booked it, leaning back, “Should we pack?” “Yeah.  I'll get Ian's stuff, he shouldn't have to do anything.”

“We need him to rest as much as possible…medicate him through the airports.” “I hope he finds peace once we get there,” Kazuo started pulling out suitcases.

Ian slept, a dreamless slumber.

[speciosuspoematis]

@elpiforos asked: [COMFORT] from daithi <3 MEME; REASONS TO CUP A FACE. ( A PROMPT LIST. ) [COMFORT]: sender cups a distressed receiver’s face in their hands and steadies them by resting their foreheads together.

Had Daithi not been there, he'd have succumbed entirely to darkness. This he knew as fact.

It had been intense all day, that thrumming undertone of constant anxiety and discomfort that felt as if it bubbled away in his stomach and slowly distributed itself throughout his bloodstream. Surely, it soaked into the marrow of his bones and as the hours passed did the darkness in his wounded heart grow more fierce and the weight of it ever doubling.

Come the evening, the poor poet had fallen to tears that wouldn't stop, pained sobbing that rattled him to the very core, quiet melancholy blossoming bitterly to something so very much more. Inconsolable, Cyvel paced the length of his quarters repeatedly, tears wiped upon the pristine white of his sleeve - eyes flashing with the intensity of the loss he had suffered heavily over the past months. Perhaps then, it had only hit him now, the true intensity of the loss of his father - how he now carried the weight and responsibility of the household upon his shoulders. The last of his line, destined to loneliness.

He's nigh entirely crumbled by the time his unexpected visitor is received by staff half asleep, fingers resting tightly within hair upon his head in the hopes the tension against his scalp would drag his mind out of that darkness. It was no use, none at all, and terrible woe grew.

The soft touch to his teary face gained his attention, the pale and glazed view of his eyes raising upward to only briefly scan the expression of the male before him - as beautiful and as perfect as always - and oh, how his heart sank ever more.

Daithi deserved better than a man broken by the pains that had flooded his life, deserved better than someone so constantly steeped in melancholy, deserved better than one who could offer flowery words but love ever coated in emotional pain. He loved, he did, pure and true and always... But Cyvel was never without his sadness.

It wasn't fair for Daithi.

"You shouldn't be here..." He whispers the break of his voice ever so telling of his internal heartbreak the absolute intensity of his grieving too much.

Try as he might to want to shift aside, to shy away from the gentleness offered, he simply couldn't. He had not the strength to shy away, had not the will to remove his face from the ever soft holding of hands 'pon his expression, cradling his face. He couldn't move, not when every fibre in his body yearned for the gentleness of that contact, that gentle love he could feel radiating from fingertips into his skin.

"--you shouldn't be here." He echoed, trembling unceasing, lower lip trembling with every inhale. "... You don't deserve this... You deserve better than me." A exhale, shaking, unable to keep the gaze of the other. "I can't be strong for you, Daithi. I'm just... Not strong."

The press of a forehead against his own silences him, forces aside the bitter words that he finds flow too easily from his mouth. Hands, trembling and unsure, reach forth - settle upon the others waist and grip to clothing. 'T is evident, in both posture and person, that Cyvel doesn't want the other to leave, doesn't want to see him walk away where he may never see him again: but in those moments so overcome by his own failings and difficulties, he thinks it is far better for Daithi to not have to suffer aside him. He wants... Him to be free of that difficulty. Not bound to it.

"-- I adore you: love you, with every fathomable part of myself. You... Are the brightest star in my life that is otherwise and endless, dark expanse... And I want naught more than to hold on as tightly as I am able. But... I don't want to smother that star, I don't want to be the reason it dulls or goes out..."

His words are yet trembled, breaths altered by tears still staining pale features: he doesn't want to let go, doesn't yet find the ability to, but he knows he should.

"... I don't want to let you go."

[darkdisrepair]

missing imogen/laudna hours meta

you know what's interesting about imogen and laudna where they sit in canon right now?

i think they're the ones who know the least about how they feel about each other.

and hear me out: you may be saying "no, there's no way that they don't know- they're the characters we're focusing on" but you see, i don't think that's true.

i think the other members of bell's hells have had separate experiences where they see how much imogen and laudna care about each other:

laudna, after breaking imogen's rock: sobbing her heart out to anyone who would listen, stressing about how to make it up to her, "let her step on me," how everything was about fixing her relationship with imogen, how it consumed so much of her thoughts that she was blindsided by yu's betrayal/romance

imogen, after laudna's death: inconsolable, devastated, in denial, isolated, lonely, withdrawn, "you know you saved my life, right?" "know that I love you," sundering delilah briarwood

but here's the thing: for both of these, the other girl didn't witness most of what the other was going through.

obviously laudna was dead.

and imogen, though she and laudna made up and talked about how preoccupied they were separately when they were fighting, there's a difference between talking about it and seeing it.

they both have been through hell for each other. laudna, killed by otohan- imogen's adversary.

imogen, killing delilah- laudna's adversary.

but it's so strange, because they're so intertwined in each other's lives but they're also so separated from each other, in such different headspaces?

i think, in the bell's hells minds, the two of them are far closer to some kind of revelation in their dynamic - romantic or otherwise- than they actually are.

but in practice- they're still stuck. on paper, they're moving forward. laudna conquering her trauma, imogen being pushed toward her destiny- but when they're together, there's this block in their friendship that is the other person.

they love and care so deeply that they forget to love themselves. laudna, brushing away her trauma of waking up in whitestone when imogen messages her mom. in some ways, holding herself back from healing because she wants to help imogen so badly.

imogen, pushing away her feelings about her mom (that situation is so fucking sad to me, by the way) because how could she be sad if laudna is alive but she should be sad.

not that they're toxic to each other. that's not what i'm saying. but i think they try so hard to make the other better that they forget to take care of themselves, and they're trying so hard for each other that i think it's going to come back and hurt them, one way or another.

my prediction: i think imogen is going to break first. i think there's so, so much that she hasn't processed yet and i think her mother's lack of contact has started a chain reaction that we're going to have to deal with, eventually.

i, for one, love the idea of laudna having an early-on healing arc. i don't think that's a disservice to her character at all, to have that as early as episode 40. her story doesn't end just because she's finally processed her delilah storyline.

she still has so much to learn about independence, self-confidence, and love. she has so much to receive from the world. i think it would be beautiful, actually, to have the yin-yang dynamic of one character rising from the ashes of her past while the other falls from grace, pulled down by the weight of her future.

i think that's a beautiful theme, for the two of them: the push and pull, of how to lift someone up while trying to do the same for yourself. i think in the end, that's what i love about them, and why, again, the romance will they, won't they isn't as important to me.

[dylan-duke]

https://www.tumblr.com/dylan-duke/734565470752096256/httpswwwtumblrcomdylan-duke73455998540252774

At one point Ryleigh thinks babygirl doesn’t even like her at all cause all she wants is Rutger. It makes Ryleigh really a sad. But babygirl loves Ryleigh so much she’s just a daddy’s girl.

oh the angst im about to write I'm sorry

angst below the cut

also decided to name the baby allegra

so Allegra Ellen Mcgroarty is her name

it had been a long day for both allegra and ryleigh. allegra had woken up with a high fever, and was inconsolable from the moment she realized daddy was on a road trip and on.

she fought nap time, refused all cuddles ryleigh offered, and spent a good portion of the day screaming and crying.

finally it was about her bedtime, and the poor baby was tired. but she continued to fight sleep and continued to wail in her mom's arms,

"daddy!" she cries, "i want my daddy!"

"shhhh," ryleigh coos, "mama's here baby girl. mama's got you,"

"I WANT DADDY!" allegra screeches trying to wiggle herself out of ryleighs hold, "NOT MOMMY!" ryleigh takes a deep breath feeling tears well in her eyes.

it was getting hard being repeatedly rejected by her own daughter. she knew deep down allegra loved her, but hearing her daughters cries for her father all day was getting to the mother.

"allegra please," ryleigh begs as her tears begin to fall, "please baby girl just go nigh nigh,"

"NOOOOOOOOO!" allegra manages to force her mom to put her down. where she lays on the ground screaming and writhing. ryleigh wipes away her tears them bends down next to her daughter,

"i don't know how to help you baby girl," she coos softly as she rubs allegra's back, "i miss daddy too, but he'll be back soon,"

soon allegra tires herself out and her screams turn to soft moans and her sobs become sniffles,

"mama," the baby girl calls out,

"im here baby," ryleigh coos as allegra holds her arms up, signalling she wants to be picked up,

"mama," she calls again. immediately ryleigh scoops her daughter up and holds her close, kissing her head,

"let's get you in bed," ryleigh says softly running a hand down her daughters back, as her brown eyes flutter close.

[turtle-steverogers]

Hi Mikey!! How are you? I hope you’re well! This is a bit long, sorry but I know you like cute headcanons so I thought I’d share mine with you!!

So I was thinking, as much as I love Bucky and Steve meeting because one of them got into a fight, I can think of another way they met. So Bucky actually became friends with Steve because he saw one of the drawings Steve did on a loose piece of paper that had slipped out of his school book. Bucky being the polite child he is picked it up and was in awe of Steve’s work and thus began the endless compliments Steve got.

I can imagine little Steve to be a bit shy so he’d take a while to warm up to Bucky but he when really knew they were friends was when Bucky asked him to draw all his fav characters from his books. (When Steve first came over to the Barnes he saw all the drawings hung up and instantly decided that Bucky and his family was the best!)

yes, hi hello, this took me a while to get around to but i am SOBBING. absolutely INCONSOLABLE

CUZ CAN YOU IMAGINE

It's recess time one day-- an afternoon where the third graders and the second graders are outside together. Bucky spots the kid from across the playground, sitting on a bench all alone. He immediately recognizes him as the kid who dropped his drawing, and Bucky pats his pocket, making sure he still has it. The folded paper is right where Bucky left it, and bounding over, he peeks over the kid's shoulder, grinning wide at the dog he's drawing.

"That's real good," Bucky says, bending down to see it better.

The kid jumps, his blond hair flopping into his eyes as he whirls around where he's sitting. Hugging his sketchbook to his chest, his eyes widen before narrowing. He doesn't say anything.

"Sorry," Bucky says, sticking his hands in his pockets and rocking from his heels to his toes. "Didn't mean to scare ya. Just... the other day, I saw you drop this and wanted to give it back to you." He takes out the folded piece of paper and thrusts it at the kid.

For a moment, the kid doesn't move, still eyeing Bucky like he's planning to do something real mean, which makes Bucky kinda sad. He's not trying to seem mean. Maybe it's 'cause he's taller.

"I promise I ain't lying or trying to trick you," Bucky insists, unfolding the paper to reveal the oak tree the kid had drawn. Bucky recognizes it as the big tree by the pretzel stand in the park. It even has a few kites stuck in it, just like in real life. "See?"

The kid finally tears his gaze away from Bucky and looks at the paper, eyes widening again. Reaching out, he snatches it back and hugs it to his chest, too. He still doesn't say anything.

Suddenly unsure, Bucky rocks on his feet again. "Um--"

"--Thanks," the kid says, and his voice is real quiet. Like he's kinda whispering, but also kinda not. Like he's trying real hard not to be heard.

Bucky smiles. "Sure thing! I really do think you're real good. I can't even draw stick figures. They always come out kinda weird and lumpy."

To Bucky's surprise, the kid smiles, his shoulders sagging a little.

"How do you manage to make a stick figure lumpy?"

Bucky laughs, and the kid kinda laughs, too, which makes Bucky really glad.

"You tell me! I bet you make real un-lumpy stick figures," Bucky says, gesturing to the sketchbook in the kid's arms. He leaves his hand out for him to shake, and slowly, the kid takes it. His grip is strong, and they meet each other's eyes again. There's still a wariness in the kid's eyes, but there's something else, too. Something sharper that makes Bucky wanna go wherever this kid goes. "I'm Bucky, by the way. Bucky Barnes. I'm eight."

The kid drops his hand, but doesn't hug that arm back to his chest.

"I'm Steve," he says. "I'm seven."

"Hi Steve," Bucky says. "It's real nice to meetcha! Wanna be friends?"

Steve's face does something complicated, then he grins. "For sure?"

Bucky grins right back. "For sure." He hops over the back of the bench, spinning so he's cross legged next to Steve. "Wanna draw the fat cat that lives outside my place? I'll tell you what she looks like."

Steve is still grinning, bouncing where he sits a little now as he takes his sketchbook down from his chest.

"Okay," he agrees, giggling, and Bucky hopes that he can keep that face around a little longer. He likes it a whole lot more than the scared one Steve was looking at him with at first.

"Okay," Bucky says back, and leans in so their knees are touching as he looks at Steve's sketchbook. "So she's reaaaalllll fat..."