#angst with an unhappy ending

[letitiaslabyrinth]

DIDN'T DESERVE

A/N: this did not turn out the way i expected it too at all. anyways ignore all mistakes cause this aint proof read word count: 1.7k+

“Shuri, how come you ain’t tell me where you was last night?” Shuri's girlfriend, Imani said, irritation in her voice.

Shuri shrugs. “I was with Riri-”

Imani rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Of course you was with her. The two of yall might as well date with the amount of times yall see each other.”

“Baby, what are you talking about?”

“You spend more time with your,” She makes air quotes, “‘best friend’ than you do your girlfriend, Shuri. You don’t see an issue with that?”

Shuri was confused. Yeah, her and Riri spent time together but they didn’t spend that much time together, right? Whether the answer was yes or not, Shuri loved Imani and would choose her over anyone and everyone.

“I’m sorry, Ima. I’ll spend more time with you, I promise. How about we go on a date tonight?”

Imani brushed her off, still annoyed. “I don’t wanna go out, Shuri, I want you to stop hanging out with Riri. Period.”

“Okay,” Shuri says with no hesitation. She wants to make her girlfriend happy and if that means she and Riri can’t hang out anymore then so be it.

“Good.” Imani kisses Shuri on the forehead and goes to the bathroom.

Shuri’s phone goes off twice. They’re messages from Riri. Shuri doesn’t bother reading them when she types: “We can’t hang out anymore.” and blocks Riri’s number. It stung her heart a little bit but what else could Shuri do? Imani’s her first girlfriend and she just wants to keep her happy.

Shuri gets up from the couch and goes to the kitchen. She opens the pantry, taking out a bag of Doritos and opens the fridge, taking out a carton of juice. She pours some in a cup before putting it back and making her way to the living room. She sets her snack and drink down and turns on the T.V. She falls asleep waiting for Imani to come out the bathroom.

When Shuri wakes up, she can feel a hand running through her hair. She looks up and it’s Imani.

“You sleep good?” She asks.

Shuri hums, stretching slightly. “What time is it?”

Imani checks her phone, “6:32, why?”

“I have a meeting with the council at 7.” Shuri groans and gets up slowly. She finishes her juice from earlier and kisses Imani on the forehead. “I’ma go get ready. I’ll see you later tonight?”

“I made plans so prolly not,” Imani says and goes back on her phone.

Shuri’s the first one in the throne room, as usual, but Riri was close behind her.

“Shuri, can we talk?” She says, pulling Shuri to the side.

“No. Didn’t you get my text?”

“No, I did, I’m just wondering why I got it. And so outta the blue, too. Did something happen?”

“Nothing happened, Riri. I just don’t want any kind of relationship with you that isn’t strictly professional. Aren’t we only supposed to be colleagues, anyway?”

“Seriously? Shuri, you can't be serious right now! Are you at least gonna tell me what I did?”

Shuri notices some of the Elders coming in. “Leave it alone, Williams. I’ve said what I’ve said.” She walks away and sits on the throne, waiting for the other Elders to come in. 

They discussed the safety of Wakanda, the Panther and Ironheart suits, and the new buildings that were being constructed in Wakanda. Then Shuri went to the lab to work for hours.

It was around 11pm when Shuri made it back to her and Imani’s place and she was tired. She was expecting to find Imani in bed but she had forgotten that she said she’d made plans. The apartment was dark and lonely without another person there. Shuri didn’t like it. She turned on all the lights and put on a random show for some background noise while she took a shower. It was 11:30 when she was done. She was so exhausted from today that she didn’t even bother changing into clothes. Once her body touched that bed, that was it, lights out. 

“Shuri!” Shuri wakes up to Imani shaking her. “The bed is wet because of you! How am I supposed to sleep!?”

“The couch,” Shuri deadpans. Imani waited for Shuri to say she was joking but she wasn’t. It’s not like there was anywhere else for her to sleep other than on the couch.

“Why don’t you sleep on the couch?” Imani says, rolling her eyes.

Shuri groans and sits up on her elbows. She looks at the clock on her bedside table then back at Imani. “It’s 2 in the morning right now, Ima. I am tired. There’s no point in me moving when you’re the one complaining. You said the ‘whole bed’ is wet so go sleep on the couch.” And with that, she turns her back to Imani and goes back to sleep, ignoring the angry muttering from her girlfriend.

It had been about a week and a half since Shuri told Imani to sleep on the couch that night but Imani took it personally and has been sleeping on the couch ever since. Shuri didn’t even remember what she said since she was so tired but she assumed it was bad since her and Imani have barely even been talking unless they absolutely have to.

“Are you hungry?” Shuri asked Imani from the kitchen. No response. Shuri rolled her eyes and went over to her girlfriend, standing in front of her. “Can you just tell me why you’re ignoring me?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because you should remember. It’s not my fault your memory is shit.”

“And it’s not my fault that you’re having this one-sided ass fight over something I don’t even fucking remember, Imani. We're dating, aren’t we? We’re supposed to be able to talk to one another when we have issues but instead you're pushing me away and ignoring me.”

“You were rude and inconsiderate, Shuri. You slept in the middle of the bed, with your towel on, making the bed wet, and then you told me to sleep on the couch.”

Shuri sat down, rubbing her eyebrow. “So, where exactly were you planning on sleeping, again?”

“What?”

“I mean, I’m just saying. From what you just told me, the entire bed was wet, somehow, so where did you actually plan on sleeping?”

“It’s not what you said, Shuri, it’s how you fucking said it. You didn’t even care about me enough to sleep on your side of the damn bed.”

“I was in a meeting from 7 to 11 pm, Imani. I was tired and you woke me up to complain so my bad for my tone?”

“Oh, please, what’s oh, so, tiring about sitting down and talking about things that need to be fixed or done in Wakanda?”

“It wasn’t just the meeting, Imani. I also had to go to the lap and fix some things on my and Riri’s suit-”

“Oh, really?” Imani scoffed, “So, what? Riri can’t fix her own damn suit now?”

“She doesn’t live here, Imani. She came here for one week for personal reasons, not to work.”

“She could’ve carried the suit behind her and worked on it from that scrappy lil garage of hers in Chicago.”

“I told her months ago that her suit cannot leave Wakanda, which you would know if you actually listened to me when I talked.”

“I listen when you talk, Shuri. It’s you who never listens to me and what I say. The fact that you’re still doing ‘favors’ for Riri proves that.”

“Excuse me? Me fixing the very creation that I helped her make isn’t me helping her. Me and Riri haven't even spoken since I told we can’t hang out anymore, so you can go somewhere else with that misinformation.”

“I don’t appreciate this tone of yours.”

“And I don’t appreciate how you’ve treated me like shit our entire fucking relationship,” Shuri starts, “Everything you ask of me, I do, and I mean everything, Imani. But it’s like, no matter what I do for you it’s never enough. You told me to stop hanging out Riri and I did but you just have to find a reason to get pissed off about something that barely even fucking concerns her and it’s irritating. You might as well be obsessed with the girl with the way you know so much shit about her and me.”

Imani stands up. “Shuri, if you keep talking to me like I’m one of your little fan girls, you gon lose me as a girlfriend, I promise.”

“Nobodys stopping you from leaving,” Shuri shrugs. She’s been through too much bullshit from this woman to even care anymore. “Leave.”

Imani scoffs and goes to pack her things.

“Leave your key on the way out, too,” Shuri says, getting up and leaving.

Today was the last day Riri was in Wakanda and Shuri had to make things right before she lost the best friend she’s ever had in her life. 

Shuri knocks on Riri’s door, thankful that she hadn’t left yet when she heard her say, “One minute!” Riri opens the door a few seconds later, her face dropping immediately when she realizes it was Shuri. 

“What do you want?” Riri says, folding her arms across her chest.

“I wanted to apologize.” Riri’s face softens slightly. “I shouldn’t have chosen Imani over you, especially when I’ve known you longer than I have her. I know what I did was stupid, Ri, and I’m sorry. Imani was my first girlfriend and I was willing to do anything for her love and her approval, even if that meant cutting out the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You didn’t deserve to be ghosted by me like that and I should’ve explained things weeks ago at the meeting but I was scared Imani would find out and break up with me and I know that’s no excuse but I really am sorry, Riri.”

Just as Riri was about to speak, another voice came from inside her room. “Ri, who is it?” They yell.

“No one, Aniyah!” She yells back. Riri turns back to Shuri, “I appreciate the apology, Shuri, I really do, but you’re a week too late. I don’t want anything to do with you after what you did.” And with that, she closes the door, leaving Shuri rethinking her entire life choices.

[imfinereallyy]

some of us, and I’m not naming names, need to start being properly tagged on fics.

Angst: Is it me?

No.

Unhappy Ending: Is it me?

……it’s not Angst.

[shares-a-vest]

@steddieangstyaugust Day 8: Miscommunication

wc: 657 | Rated: T | cw: Angst with Unhappy Ending

Tags: Literal Miscommunication, Missing Someone, Angst with Unhappy/Ambiguous Ending, Rockstar Eddie Munson, Teacher Steve Harrington, Modern Universe

'Steve's Bed'

Steve stares up at the big, stupid canopy hanging over the bed and folds his arms.

What’s the point of such a luxurious, expensive bed if he has to spend so much time in it alone? If he had known that matrimony with a rockstar was going to be like this, well –

Well, maybe he wouldn’t have not not married Eddie Munson but… He would have seriously considered just staying in Hawkins. Or maybe moving to Chicago with Robin. Or Dustin’s fucking college campus where the kid teaches!

Steve frowns – maybe that last one is a little weird.

But at least he would have someone. Instead of a gigantic bed that has been his alone for so long, he can’t even detect Eddie’s cologne and (still) cheap shampoo on his side of the bed.

A side of the bed that isn’t really owned by someone else anymore.

It is just Steve’s bed.

And he hates it.

He isn’t naive. He knew Corroded Coffin would be touring for months to celebrate their most recent album.

But there were supposed to be breaks at most, phone calls at least.

Even if he doesn’t get to see Eddie in person, he should be able to talk to him or video call.

But nope.

At first, it was a few missed connections. The tour bus was out of range of service on and off, then the hotel Wi-Fi was shoddy. Then Steve discovered that someone at the label screwed up part of the itinerary, so the copies he had on the refrigerator, in his work bag and at his desk at school became all but useless.

When a call finally did come, Eddie was tired and filled with excuses. When it was Steve's turn to talk, he knew his husband was barely listening.

And then it happened again.

And again. Over and over.

Eddie was always distracted or in the middle of doing something else. Even when he said he was available to talk.

Steve used to be able to brush it all off. Have more patience.

He screws his eyes shut, begging the universe (and his brain) to let him get some shut-eye. He needs to start grading papers the moment he gets to school tomorrow.

But his mind is a race of every instance he hasn’t talked to Eddie. Every moment he was almost able to talk to Eddie. Every moment he wanted to. Needed to.

And each time it made him ache.

His heart is aching.

Perhaps more than ever before.

The thing is, he foolishly thought that the whole Rockstar Thing might be temporary. Maybe it's even selfish for Steve to have ever thought that way. He just figured that after they both hit forty, Eddie and the rest of the band might want to slow down. Even settle down.

Hell, he thought that would happen when they finally got married.

But somehow, it got worse.

More lonely.

Steve pulls back the covers, hoping that a late-night snack might lull him into some sort of food coma to get him through the next few hours. He grabs his phone and shucks on a navy-blue robe embossed with his initials, ‘SM’ now.

He clenches his phone in his hand as he walks down the long and winding main hall of the penthouse, mulling over whether he should call Robin at this hour. Steve gathers the collar of his robe tight to his chest, chilled now that he is out of bed. It might be too big and have the world’s most extravagant canopy, but at least the covers are warm.

He grinds to a halt, just shy of the cavernous living area. The whole place has become some sick and twisted version of his former family home. An empty place. Devoid of life. Where he is left cold and alone.

Steve unlocks his phone and squints against the bright screen light, searching for his lawyer’s number.

[creative-caramel-coffee]

Left Behind and Bleeding

Summary: you’ve been feeling forgotten all week when your period shows up you just want to curl up and hide. Will your girlfriends look after you this time?

TW: Angst, periods, being forgotten, anxiety, feeling left out, abandonment issues, self-doubt, mentions of drug use, teasing

Words: 1.2K

A/n: it’s that time of the month when I hit you with another period fic lol. Sorry it’s a bit short. Also … I may be projecting again … maybe hehe.

It had been a bad few days to say the least. To start off you had plans to hang out with Natasha, but she got given a last-minute mission, so you had to postpone. Which would have been fine on its own, but it seemed yo have sparked a pattern.

All week people had been cancelling on you, having some reason or another that seemed valid at the time but looking back made you overthink.

Wanda had some people she needed to visit, and you understood. But everyone seemed to be prioritising other things. Even your mother wasn’t answering your calls. Leading you to believe she was either dead or ignoring you.

On the fourth day of having nobody to hang out with in the usually very busy tower, you were getting fed up.

Your mind had been trying to spin a story that everyone simply didn’t like you. That they would rather hang out with other people and that you really didn’t have anyone in your corner.

Of course, you had been fighting the notion for days now, but it was getting harder to ignore as people continued to have bigger, better things to do without you.

Nat had gotten back from her mission and had immediately gone to do some training and after you caught her watching a movie with Clint. You had moped around your room all afternoon, feeling like you were a B-list avenger at best.

Your mind had convinced you that nobody cared and so you had spent the afternoon crying alone in your room.

When dinner came, it seemed everyone had returned. Something you had not been counting on, so your eyes were still red and puffy when Jarvis announced dinner.

In a panic you threw on some sunglasses in an attempt to keep the others from finding out.

Yet it had simply orchestrated a point of teasing for the whole meal. Everyone wanted to know why you were wearing them, but you kept your head down and tried to seem cheerful.

Sam was trying to convince people that you must have been high, while wanda could practically hear your loud thoughts from the other end of the table. Her and Nat exchanged expressions when you got up from the meal not even halfway through.

Feeling awful you almost cried when you got back to your room to discover your period had started.

Life seemed to be throwing more than a few curveballs at you, it was throwing the full field.

You stuck in a pad and threw on some warm pjs before crawling under the covers and letting a few tears fall while your breathing evened out.

Wanda had finished her dinner around the same time as Natasha had so, they had met up in the kitchen while washing their dishes.

“Wanda?” Nat asked from where she was drying her plate off.

“Yeah?” Wanda asked, her hands covered in suds.

Nat chewed her lip for a second before carefully selecting her words. “Was there … anyone off with Y/n these last few days?” Nat asked.

“I don’t know why?” Wanda said and Nat frowned.

“What do you mean ‘I don’t know’ werent you here?” Nat said.

“No? I told you I was visiting friends for a few days.” Wanda said.

“Oh my god.” Nat said feeling bad. “Did we both ditch her for a week?”

“No? I mean surely, she had the others to hang out with. Right?” Wanda said.

“Jarvis?” Nat called to the ceiling.

“Yes, Ms Romanoff what can I do for you?” The AI responded.

“Who in the past week has cancelled plans with Y/n?” Nat asked.

“In the past week I believe each of the avengers have been either ‘too busy’ or had ‘other plans’ to spend time with Ms L/n.” Jarvis said.

“Oh god.” Wanda said. “Jarvis? What has Y/n been doing this past week?”

“Ms L/n has spent most of her time in her room. Either sleeping or crying. She also has been avoiding everyone for the last half of the week.” Jarvis said and Wanda and Natasha’s hearts broke.

“We are the worst girlfriends ever.” Wanda said feeling awful.

“We should go check on her.” Nat agreed and the two of them headed for the lift.

When they stood outside your bedroom door Natasha hesitated for a second.

“What if she doesn’t want to see us?” Nat asked.

“Im sure she will, it’s Y/n. She may be sad but her hearts still twenty-four carat.” Wanda said and Nat nodded and knocked.

When no response came, she gently opened the door. Making out a Y/n shaped lump in the bed she entered and quietly walked over to your side.

Wanda took note of the chocolate wrappers on your bedside table and the hot water bottle you had cuddled up to.

You had seemingly used your powers to heat up the water-bottle and your brow was creased in pain.

“Nat?” Wanda said and Natasha nodded.

“I see.” She said.

Wanda sighed and slipped into bed behind you. Gently playing with your hair as Nat went to search for some pain medicine for you, knowing that you wouldn’t have taken any yet.

Wanda rubbed slow circles on your back and brushed a hand onto your cheek.

“Y/n baby, can you open your eyes for me my love?” Wanda asked softy. You let out a small whimper and Wanda’s heart melted.

“Wands?” You asked in a small voice.

“Yes, baby its me.” She said pressing a featherlight kiss to your cheekbone.

“Hurts.” You said softly and she nodded.

“Natty’s gone to get you some medicine.” Wanda said just as Natasha walked back in with some pills and a glass of water.

“Here you go my sweet girl.” Nat said as wanda helped sit you up, leaning into her side.

Nat passed you the medicine and you took it without protest, telling both girls just how bad you were really feeling.

“I’m sorry we weren’t here my love.” Nat said brushing a curl from your cheek.

“That’s ok. You had important things to do.” You mumbled into Wanda’s chest where you had buried your face.

“Baby girl, nothings more important than you.” Wanda said stroking your hair.

“Why don’t we put on a movie, and you can try and get some sleep ok?” Nat said gently and you nodded, shuffling over to make room for her on the bed.

Wanda used her magic to open the small mini fridge in the room and floated a pint of your favourite icecream and three spoons over.

“I got this for you before I left my love.” Wanda said with a smile passing you a spoon.

Natasha slipped in beside you and Wanda, passing you the remote you put on an episode of Parks and Recreation as you began to eat some icecream and cuddle.

After a few spoonfuls Nat stole the container, Afterall you have been making a mess. There was even icecream on your nose which wanda softly kissed away, making you giggle as you begun doze in the presence of your two amazing girlfriends.

[so-long-soldier-writes]

It's a Cruel Summer, With You

kai parker x reader | requested

summary: kai's never had anyone tell him they love him. he panics when he hears it for the first time.

tags: based on cruel summer by taylor swift, mild enemies to lovers, drinking / alcohol, secret relationship, summer love, love confessions, fear / panic, past trauma affecting relationships, emotional hurt, unrequited love (but not really), break-up, heartbreak, unhappy ending, one teensy edgar allen poe reference

word count: 5k

a/n: anon, i apologize once more for the amount of time this took! i hope you like it, and i hope i did taylor swift justice. 🩷 i also hope it makes sense bc sometimes i feel like my thoughts are just all over the place 😅

You were staring daggers into the back of his head, three days after a drastic turning point in their lives. And he, feeling your eyes upon him, turned to face you and smiled. That enraged you like nothing else; no man had ever had such an audacity with you, to raise the hell that he had and still offer a smile. You looked back down at your drink, still fuming, and still aware of him watching you, and texted your friends about it. One replied with an equal disgust, another sent a funny-to-her joke, and there was no response from the third. 

“Maybe he’s got a sweet spot for you,” she had said.

“Ha.”

A sweet spot that’d make him kill you last, maybe.

You rolled your eyes exhaustedly, but by the time you looked back down, someone had slunk into the booth across from you. You jumped, then rolled your eyes a second time at the realization of who it was.

“Hey cutie.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Kai shrugged, unbothered. He kept eye contact with you in a way that made it hard to look away; his blue eyes seemed to pierce right into your soul. They weren’t bright, like Damon’s, but instead had a touch of darkness in them. Like storm clouds rolling in on a bright, sunny day. They threaten rain, but you’re not sure if the downpour will come today or tomorrow.

Kinda like how he came into Mystic Falls. 

“What do you want?” You bit, after about thirty seconds of staring.

“Are you scared of me?”

“Excuse me?”

“Are you afraid of me?” He repeated, eerily softly. 

“Why would you think that?” Forced bravery is better than none, especially when faced with Kai Parker. 

“There’s a slight tremor in your voice. Only one finger touches the table, as if you’re unable to settle. You struggle to meet my eyes.”

“What are you, a psychologist?”

“I’m a sociopath.”

Shocker. 

“So?”

“I notice things.” He took a sip of your coffee. Reached out across the table, met your eyes, and sipped your drink. Again, the audacity. “I spent a lot of my childhood isolated. I had a lot of little brothers and sisters, and they were all taught to be afraid of me. I know how to read the signs.”

“I’m not afraid of you.”

“That’s what they’d say, too.”

“Well I’m not your siblings, and I’m not putting up an act. I don’t trust you, and I think you’re an ass, but I’m not afraid of you.” Your statement’s bold, but he had struck something fierce in you. A nerve, maybe on purpose, that wasn’t going to let him win this time. 

Kai smiled at that. His gaze dropped to the table, surveying your hands once more. His own pointer finger dragged along the wood. “I like you, Y/N. You’re plucky.”

The words took a moment to register - Kai saying he liked you. Kai didn’t like anyone. 

He got up to leave, causing you to turn towards him, prepared to jump out of the booth if you had to. “Well don’t.”

He cocked his head. “What?”

“I don’t want you to like me. I want nothing to do with you; you said it yourself, you’re a sociopath, and I don’t need that kind of bad energy in my life.”

That seemed to be funny to him, judging by the way he chuckled. “Okay, Y/N.” He put his hands up in surrender. “I won’t like you then.”

And with that, he was gone. 

Of course, he wasn’t gone - gone. Kai was never gone - gone from anything, even when people yelled at him to leave. He would disappear for a couple days, but he always came back. 

And somehow, after your interaction, you’d see him more frequently at the grill, too. He’d never talk to you, but you could feel his gaze. His stone cold blues would linger on you, almost like an animal stalking prey. 

It made you anxious, jittery. But somewhere, secretly, also a bit excited. 

He was dangerous in a way that drew you in. He had this aura about him that intrigued you as much as it scared you. You knew what he had done, and what he was capable of, and yet he still occupied the curious corners of your mind. 

And somehow, he seemed to know that. 

♫

How it happened from there is something you still question. Death glares became stolen glances, became blushing smiles, and by the next time he joined you at your booth, you didn’t try to fight him off. Kai ordered an uncharacteristically pink cocktail to match your own tropical choice. Neither said much as you both drank the rum mixtures down to the ice. You communicated in eye contact, mostly, as if daring the other to speak. Your stubborn personalities that should’ve clashed seemed to meld together instead. An intense staring contest was born. You found yourself entertained in the game, and quickly, enjoying it, too.

The booze soaked your brain as you continued to drink; your thoughts were fuzzy, and whenever you tried to catch them, they’d dissipate like cotton candy dropped in water. When Liv closed the restaurant around midnight, she unknowingly crashed the floodgates that weakly stood between you two. Ten feet out onto the street, you fell into him and he held you up. You laughed in his arms, partly due to your own drunken state, but partly that it’s Kai keeping you on your toes. He held you tight until you found your footing, just for you to crash your lips onto his unsuspecting own. The witch, taken aback but not opposed to it, let you taste him for a moment before kissing back. He pushed you up to the nearest wall, feeling and exploring, before hailing a ride back to your place. 

It had been forever for both of you. The uber driver with a ‘no touching’ rule sobered you up a little, but not enough to make you think twice about it. By the time he laid you down on your sheets, any doubt in your mind had fizzled out. He was a gentle lover, much to your surprise, likely because it was such an unfamiliar feeling to be so intimate with another. The little control you tried to take was met with a laugh, and you understood the signal. You didn’t mind being underneath him, though, nor did you mind him staying the night.

Guilt struck you when you first woke up in his arms, but not enough to barr yourselves from meeting again. The first few times you had to be drinking to convince yourself it was okay, but the more morning-afters you spent together, the less ashamed you started to feel. With time, nights started to feel less like hookups and more like something else. He became something you adored when you had, and craved when you did not. The feelings were mutual, though harder to pull out from the siphon, until you asked him directly, putting both your hearts out for the other to grab.

“What are we?” You asked, head leaning on the vending machine as he fetched himself a post-high gatorade. A bag of cookies were held in your own hand from the exchange you made one minute prior. 

“Having fun,” Kai replied.

“Kai…”

“Or so I think,” he followed his words, questioning the look on your face. 

“Are we anything more? Will we ever be?”

A loud voice down the hall that vaguely resembled his sister made a sharp remark to another person. His response sounded closer, as if they were heading in your direction. Kai grabbed your arm and muttered a simple cloaking spell until they both passed. Liv and Tyler both disappeared into her room, then Kai removed his hand. His touch lingered on your skin for a moment. You’ve grown to quite like the feeling. 

“I don’t know,” he confessed, “I’m not exactly the person for relationships, if you aren’t aware. I’m a sociopath that was locked in complete isolation for eighteen years.”

“I don’t care.” You grabbed his hand and laced your fingers together. “I like you. I don’t want this to stop. I want it to be more.”

“I’m not built for this.”

“But do you want it?”

His mouth went dry as he already knew the truth. He did. He wanted you so much, but fear held him back like a dog on a leash. He didn’t have much slack. “I want you,” he finally said. “I want this to work.”

“I’m not good at relationships, either. We’re figuring this out together.”

Kai seemed to accept that better, and two minutes later, he climbed back under the sheets with you, turning on a movie and sharing snacks until you fell asleep. 

♫

As your relationship progressed, it was tested, like all relationships ever are. You grew closer, more comfortable, as summer went on. Much of your time spent together was at night; you hadn’t told your friends, not ready for their questions nor their judgment, nor did you want the word out to his coven yet, afraid of whatever wrath his father could bring if he were to disapprove. You were still figuring things out, still learning about each other, and testing yourselves through time, and that was okay. Life isn’t something to be learned in a day, it’s something in which to be present to see where it takes you.

So, you let yourselves live, to do just that. On top of rooftops and beside small creeks, you snuck out to enjoy each other’s company. Mystic Falls has a lot of places to hide if you know where to look. 

A couple times, you’ve almost ran into others. More than anyone being Liv and Tyler, also avoiding her father. Once, you’ve ducked under bushes to hide from Bonnie. Kai kissed your neck while his hand was clamped over your mouth, daring you to give away your position, while playfully inhibiting your chance to do so.

Sometimes, you were drunk when you found yourselves venturing the town together. The bar in which neither Matt nor Liv worked became a hotspot for you. But instead of ending the night short, you opted to explore the late hours in each other’s company. The alcohol wore off quickly, but the drunkenness brought on by your unconfessed love never did. 

Kai, as it turns out, was easy to fall in love with. He was charming when you first met, but you were tickled to learn that underneath his manipulation tactics, he could be just as endearing authentically. He was a jokester and a flirt, whether across a room when you’d spot each other in public, or when you were hanging out together alone. You were never afraid to be alone with him. If your friends knew you were out with him, alone, at night, they would’ve freaked, but he always made you feel safe. And, once he felt comfortable being vulnerable with you, he revealed a side that could be sweet, too. 

Even after arguments, you were able to patch things up as if they hadn’t happened. Sometimes, he’d be bristling and volatile, but you knew that a lot of his anger came from a place of fear. You learned what to say that would calm him down; you told him what he needed to hear to feel safe again. You’d provide him with the comfort he’d always desired, and when he settled, he’d melt into your touch and softly request forgiveness.

You complimented each other perfectly. And while it took you a moment to name the emotion, the feeling had been there all along. It was love. 

♫

You were only slightly drunk the first time you realized the truth. Kai was painted in perfect, purple lighting, and his eyes seemed to sparkle when they met yours. You stumbled towards him and put your arms around his neck. He caught you, hands finding your waist. The music seemed to fade out as you swayed with him to the beat. It was as if a bubble captured you both, drowning out the rest of the world, making him your world, and in that moment, nothing else existed. You kissed him quickly, desperately, like an addict gone too long without a hit. He met you halfway, equally addicted. 

And then, because you were young, and stupid, and courageously in love, you blurted out the words swimming restlessly in your mind,

“I love you.”

You looked up at him, not expecting an answer just yet, but to offer an encouraging smile. Before your gaze even reached his, his body tensed. His hands felt like ice upon your nervously warmed skin, and his once-strong grip on your waist loosened. Kai wore an expression of confusion, different from the emotion that you tasted on his lips. You opened your mouth to retract the words, but nothing came out. The bubble that consumed you seemed to crack; the music previously blocked filled your eardrums once again. 

A fraction of a second later, you were guided to a hallway by your fingertips. The narrow path reduced some of the music, but most of the traffic. The man of your affection took to one wall, leaving you in the middle. You tried for his hand after he let it go, but dropped it at the discomfort he seemed to feel in having you hold it. 

You racked your brain for the right words, but nothing seemed perfect. You stared at the ground beneath your feet for a half second longer until he spoke, 

“You can’t do that.”

“What?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I’m sorry? I don’t. What did I do wrong?” He only shook his head, prompting you further. “Was it what I said or when I said it? Because I don’t think it’s wrong of me to confess what I feel for you when I know that it’s true.”

“It can’t be true. You can’t feel that for me.”

“Why not?”

“Because…”

“Provide me with a reason,” you interrupted, “or let me do as I please. I want to love you. I do, and I won’t apologize for it.” 

“Y/N-”

“We’ve had some tough times together, I know we have, but we’ve gotten through them. We - us, together - have worked through so much to get here. Of course I love you, there’s so much effort and, and, love, that connects us.” You paused, letting your thoughts catch up to your mouth. “You don’t have to say it back. You don’t even have to acknowledge it, if you’re not ready. I know it’s a big step.”

“You can’t go there, Y/N.”

“I know, okay, maybe it was too much, too soon. I’m sor-”

“No, you can’t ever go there. You can’t love me and you shouldn’t. I’m not designed for relationships, they’re not meant for me. Do you not remember the things I’ve done?”

“We’ve talked about this, Kai. You confided in me about your fears, but we handled them, I thought. Do you not remember what I said?”

“I do, but-”

“‘Tell me every terrible thing you ever did, and let me love you anyway’.”

“By Poe,” Kai finished.

“And it’s true. I don’t care about the things you’ve done. I want to love you, and I do.”

“But you shouldn’t. You shouldn’t excuse the things I’ve done just because you want to see me for someone who I am not. You shouldn’t be so desperate to see a difference in me that you convince yourself you love me.”

“What?! Kai, I’m not excusing nor am I desperate. I know you’re different from the you that wrought pain upon the town. That guy���s gone, buried, with this you in his place. And I quite like this you, and I’ve learned to love him, because his progress is worth loving. He is worth loving. You are.”

“The old Y/N would never say such things about her sworn enemy. You’d never dare hold his hand, nor kiss his lips, nor say such things, because you’d know better, and if you did, it’d be because of some horrible nightmare, or some instance where I spelled you to get what I needed, because Y/N, we’re living in a fantasy, and none of this is real.”

“I don’t understand! This is real! We’re here, together, and we were dancing, and we were happy, and now we’re in this hallway. Still together, but now questioning if the summer we’ve spent together has all been a hoax, or if that’s the booze talking.”

“I’m not drunk.”

“You have to be, to think what you’re saying is true.” You paused, heartbroken, and afraid to show it, but pretty sure the choke in your words already had. “So are you saying you’ve never meant it? All the times you’ve kissed me were just folly? Or the nights we stayed up until the sun rose again were only dreams I made up?”

“That’s not what I meant, Y/N. I know what we’ve done, and I know we’ve shared moments, but a fantasy is all this is for us. Something we want, but cannot have. We have to wake up some day.”

“I disagree, I think we can make it work.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. This was never supposed to be a long-term thing.”

“But we said it could be! We said it could make it work!”

“And that’s what makes it a fantasy! We both know that’s a lie.”

“Kai, I don’t understand. Ten minutes ago, we were fine. Yesterday, you gave me a kiss that swept me off my feet; that replaced all my organs with butterflies; that made me feel like full-bloomed roses on the nicest day of the year. You made me feel cherished, and happy, and beautiful, but now, I feel like I’m on the end of a well-thought out joke, and everyone’s finally allowed to laugh.”

“I’m not saying this to break your heart. I’m just trying to be realistic.” He reached out to wipe a tear from your cheek, but you smacked his thumb away. 

You couldn’t stop the tears from falling, but you still tried to talk through them. “I thought we were being realistic when we stayed up talking, all those nights, about how we knew each other’s flaws but were willing to work through them anyway. I would think, if we weren’t, we wouldn’t have spent a whole week together and considered getting an apartment to share, because we work just that well.”

“That only proves my point further. We haven’t been together long enough to make big decisions like that.”

“Then we’ll put it on pause and address it later.”

“Y/N-”

“Why are you doing this? Why does it seem like you’re giving up on us? Why are your words sounding like a preface to a break up?”

“Because they are,” he confessed, “because they have to be.”

“What do you mean, ‘they have to be?’”

“We can’t work. You can’t love me.”

“But I do, and I want to, and we do! We’ve managed to make it work, despite our-”

“But how long do you think we can keep this up? When will our differences outweigh our desires to stay together? When will we tell your friends about us? My family? We are too different for us to work, and I’m too damaged to be loved by you. We have to stop living in this fantasy.”

“I can’t believe you’re saying this. Do you even know what you’re saying?”

“I’m not drunk, Y/N.”

“So what, have you been planning this? Have you been waiting for the perfect time? Funny, that the perfect time seems to be when I tell you I l-”

“Don’t,” he interrupted, “don’t say it again.”

“What?”

“The less you say it, the less you’ll believe it.”

“That’s bullshit. I believe it in the deepest corners of my heart. You’re etched into my bones. You’re the shimmer of light in the darkest parts of my mind. I love you, Kai Parker. I love you, and I don’t want to apologize for it, and I won’t believe that I’ve made this all up in my mind. It’s okay that you don’t love me, but don’t you dare try to say you feel nothing.”

“Y/N-”

“‘Tell me all the terrible things you’ve done, and let me love you anyway’.”

“You can’t. I won’t let you.”

“You don’t have a choice. I don’t. I can’t control my heart nor its desires. It wants you; you have it. Tell me you don’t crave it. I know you crave love, Kai. I know it in the way you kiss me, and in the way you hold me. I know it from the time you confessed, at two in the morning when you were too tired to hold back, and I know it from when you told me, clear as day, on that Wednesday afternoon. I love you, and I’m not afraid to love you. Why don’t you give in to what I know you want?!”

Because your love isn’t mine to take. 

Because I don’t deserve it.

Because you’re a gemstone, perfect and pure, and I’m the dirt from which it was pulled.

“Because I don’t feel the same for you,” he said instead, “I’m not capable of love. I’m a sociopath, and anything I’ve ever said was for my own fleeting pleasure. It’s over now. I’m done. I’m bored with us.”

“What? No. Something’s wrong. This is not the same Kai I spent the summer falling in love with. Are you Damon in disguise? Pulling some sick prank?”

“I’m not, Y/N. It’s me, being realistic, and telling you I don’t love you, and I never will. It’s time to go home, Y/N, and to your own bed, in your own sheets.”

The tears streaming down your face run your make-up, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. “But my sheets smell like you.”

“Then wash them.”

The harshness in his tone was unlike anything you’ve ever heard before. When you finally brought yourself to meet his eyes, there was no light inside them, no humanity. His jaw was tensely set, and for the first time in months, you saw the Kai that everyone feared when he had broken himself free of his eighteen-year punishment. Scared and sorrowful, you backed away from him. He didn’t follow. You backed further and further away until you were stumbling out of the bar. The wicked August heat kissed your neck like he used to -  passionately. You grabbed your hair, fumbling it up into a bun to get it off your skin, then searched for your phone to call a ride. 

As the white sedan approached your meeting spot, you trained your blurry vision on the door, but Kai never came out. He never shouted your name, hurried down the steps, nor caught you in an apologetic embrace, blaming his temporary ignorance on too much to drink. He never peered through a fingerprint-stained window, watching you from the glass, wondering if it's too late to take back what was said. It was just silent, as car engines roared and drunk couples chattered around you. 

When your ride finally came, you cried harder than you ever had in your life. Your driver glanced to the backseat, but didn't know a good time to interrupt, so he didn't. He offered a polite smile as you got out, thanked you for the five-star rating, and made sure you got in your apartment safely before pulling back onto the road. 

You barely made it through the door before crashing on the couch. Exhaustion settled in your bones halfway through the drive, and you couldn’t even think about climbing the stairs. The worst headache of your life pounded in your skull. Water was too far of a walk, so you let it throb. 

You tried your best not to think about Kai. His words rang in your head on repeat like an old antique bell - loud, heavy, constant. It almost felt like the whole night was a fluke. A nightmare. A spell, perhaps done by his father, or one of your disappointed friends. When you wake up, he’d be there, kissing your fingertips as the smell of coffee fills the air. You let this thought comfort you, and let it soften your heart. Although, deep down, you knew the truth. 

He wouldn’t be there. He didn’t want you. 

You’ve never known pain like this before.

♫

You can only ignore your friends for so long. Blaming a long to-do list can only give you so many excuses, and when Caroline messages you mid-afternoon on a Friday if you’d meet them at the Scull Bar, you realize you don’t have any more excuses left. So, cautiously, you pull yourself from your bed and drag your feet to your closet. You still haven’t washed your sheets, despite wanting to be rid of his once-comforting smell. It’s more stubbornness than anything, refusing to do the chore. If he thinks throwing a piece of fabric in the wash will rid you of him, he’s a damn fool.

You hadn’t been lying. He owns a part of your heart, and that can’t be simply washed away with some eco-friendly detergent.

Truthfully, you think, ignoring the heaviness in your bones as you enter the Scull Bar, the only way to remove him would be to carve out your heart entirely; to separate it from its lifeline and from all that’s familiar. But, you can’t, so you choose to let it bleed instead, and hope it doesn’t seep through your clothes. 

A vague sadness hangs above your heads, but none of your friends know the cause. You told them you were tired before joining them. You must not have gotten a good night’s sleep.

After all, it’s the first time in Mystic Falls where something tragic isn’t happening. Damon and Elena are planning out their lives, Stefan and Caroline are newly together, and Bonnie and Enzo, a quite unexpected pair, seem to be happy. Jo is five months pregnant, and Kai has left her alone. The girls wonder if that’s of his own volition, or if someone or something is distracting him, but you don’t offer any suggestions. When they then ask you about your own dating life, you only shrug. They tease playfully, having no idea about the wreckage your heart is still trying to piece back together. The cause seems hopeless. You don’t even have the energy to confide in them. 

The topic finally changes, but only because the one who dropped your glass heart enters. You turn when you catch a bit of his familiar cologne, but remind yourself he’s no longer yours and turn again just as fast. The girls let their gazes linger on him as if daring him to bother them, and for a moment, Kai wonders if you told them. But then, as they shrug and go back to their conversation, he knows you didn’t. Otherwise, they’d be hurling bitter words and sharp tools at him for breaking their best friend’s heart. 

And honestly, he wishes they were. 

It’s what he deserves, after all. 

♫

���I love you,” you had said, only a couple weeks ago. 

His heart stopped. His throat went dry. 

The words seemed to have been shouted at him, despite the booming bass around them. You weren’t yelling, though, you were simply telling the truth. 

A truth he wasn’t ready to hear. A confession he didn’t know how to process. 

How could you, a perfect person, love him, someone so tainted and dark? 

How could he ever love you the way you deserved? 

He did love you, of course. He knew it long before you ever confessed, but it was never something he felt okay to share. 

You always made him feel safe. Comfortable. Dare he say it, loved. 

But love was something he had never felt before, and to have something means that it can be lost. And to not lose it tragically, he must be the one to take it away. 

Hearing the words fall from your lips was both the best and the worst thing he could ever hear. He craves love, he knows he’s admitted it. He craves it more than anything else in the world. But wanting it and having it are two very different things, and now that he has it, he regrets asking for it. 

He had to hurt you then, before your soul could be completely shattered later. He had to stop it. Right then. Before he let you in too much and you got too attached.

So, he lied. 

He broke his own heart with every word, but it was nothing compared to the damage he knew it was doing to your own. He wanted nothing more than to sweep you into his arms, hold you tightly, and say it was all just a spell - an outside force trying to drive you apart - but he couldn’t. His fear of hurting you triumphed over his love for you. His mouth spoke before his mind could process the words he professed. He became unrecognizable to himself by the time he delivered his final blow. Your tears stained your perfect face and your posture was defeated, but he was no longer the one that could offer any solace. He was now the one that ruined you, and there was no coming back from what he had done. 

How terrifying it is, that three little words can make or break you. 

How terrifying it was, to wake up the next morning and realize the damage caused. To have to come to terms with the fact that he had broken the only good thing in his life. To imagine the love of his life sitting on the couch, stirring coffee, with a head full of questions neither will ever be able to answer. 

“I love you, Kai Parker. I love you, and I don’t want to apologize for it…”

“I love you,” ain’t that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?

[cissyenthusiast010155]

Not Without You ~Casey Novak xFem Wife!Reader (Alex Cabot x Olivia Benson)

Summary— Casey Novak angst. No more spoilers than that! Approach at your own risk!!!

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: MATURE AUDIENCES, 18+!!, death, angst, really sad shit, murder, blood, gore, multiple suicides, unhappy ending, grief character death, crying, mentioned suicidal tendencies, etc.

Enjoy (:

The precinct room was tense. Nobody was moving a muscle. Everyone frozen. You stood right under the doorway. Everyone’s eyes were on her, on Casey.

It was crazy how wrong this had gone so quickly. The perp was holding Casey in front of him with a knife to the ADA’s throat. Her eyes were bulging in fear and you could see her body shaking.

You had walked into the situation, unintentionally, showing up to surprise your wife for lunch. And you had walked in to the precinct to find everyone with their hands up and staring at Case.

Your heart was racing and your breath was bated. Your mind started to spiral, as Elliot started to try and talk the perp down.

The man’s words blurred in and out of your understanding, you were too busy relieving your entire life with Casey. It was too fleeting. It wasn’t enough. This couldn’t be it. You and her had barely had anytime together.

The perp started to get more agitated. It seemed that anything Elliot was saying was only making it worse…

Before you knew it, you heard a sudden slice followed by a squelched scream… and blood splattering across the room…

your heart dropped. Then another slice, no scream this time. Your eyes fluttered heavily, you started to feel dizzy…

Your legs collapsed on themselves and you feel tumbling to the floor. Nothing made sense. How did it all go so wrong, so quickly…?

Tears started to flow from your eyes. You looked up toward the bloody scene, your vision was blurred and hazy. EMTs were rushing to the two bodies that lies laying on the floor.

Everything began to muffle, the sounds fading into the background. You got the sudden urge to throw up, and you couldn’t stop it, vomiting across the precinct floor in front of you.

You jolted as you felt someone’s hand on your back. You looked up to your left with sobbing eyes to see Olivia trying to talk to you. But you couldn’t hear her.

She tried to pick you up and turn you away from Casey, but you fought back. You fought with your life and soul to get to Casey. Olivia’s hold tightened, not letting you move, so in desperation, you began to scream.

“No! God please no!” as you collapse to ground again and scream in agony.

She picked you up from the floor again and quickly filed you out of the main room and into a separate office. You fought and fought but you just didn’t have it in you anymore. She sat you down, sitting next to you, still trying to tell you something.

This was when you noticed how much you were shaking. You couldn’t stop it. Your breathing was shallow and you felt like you were being blocked from the air in your lungs. This realization only brought more tears. Shock and adrenaline were now in full course and running rampant in your system, and you were really starting to feel the overwhelming effect.

Your eyes started to feel heavy and it all became too much. The last thing you remember is leaning against Olivia’s shoulder before shutting your eyes indefinitely.

~~

When you woke up, you were in Olivia’s apartment. You jolted upright with wide eyes.

Olivia was in her kitchen, but as soon as she heard your gasped breathing, she came into the living room where you laid on her couch. She immediately sat down next to you, bringing her hand behind your back.

“Hey, hey… sweetheart, it���s okay. You’re at my apartment. I didn’t think… it would be appropriate to go to yours…” Olivia explained softly.

For a moment, for a nanosecond, you felt at peace. And then it all hit you.

Her dead body, the life leaving her eyes as blood spilt everywhere, her twitching hand as she bleed out, her mouth which you swore was whispering I love you…

You started shaking again, and your breathing went shallow and spiked. Tears flowed freely and violently as you rocked back and forth on Liv’s couch.

“Oh god Oh God Oh God…” you choked out, your lip trembling as you tried to stifle your violent sobs.

“It’s okay, let it all out…” Liv comforted you.

You suddenly felt the rage in your body kick in. You swatted Liv’s hand away and stood up, filled with anger.

“Y/N?” The brunette asked.

“I… I need to go…” you mumbled, “W-where’s my stuff?”

“At the precinct still… Wait Y/N?!”

Before Liv could say another word, you were out the door.

~~~

You walked into the SVU precinct for the second time in twenty four hours that day. The first thing you saw was the blood stain straight in front of you as you walked in. You gulped.

More feelings came bubbling up but you shoved them down.

You marched into the Captain’s office and demanded your things. Cragen looked at you sympathetically and asked if you were alright.

“I’m fine…” you grumbled, “now please give me my shit back.”

Cragen obliged and you were quick your things and leave. You made it all the way home and to your apartment hallway.

But then you saw your apartment. The one you and Casey had gotten together. The one you had planned to raise kids together in.

You shakily placed a hand over your mouth before letting out more uncontrollable sobs. Your legs were threatening to give out on you, but you managed to stumble your way to the bedroom, collapsing on the bed and losing consciousness again.

~~

You couldn’t get out of bed for the next couple of days. You were in and out of either feeling completely numb or being it with all the grief at once. You were questioning reality.

Was this even fucking real…? How could this have happened…? What the fuck were you going to do…??

Throughout those days, you heard many people knocking, coming and going. Not much on your phone anymore, because you had let its battery run out, but when it was on, everyone on the team was calling and texting.

You knew they only wanted what’s best for you and that they wanted to make sure you were okay… But you couldn’t face them. If you faced them, that would mean it was real. And you couldn’t risk that. That would break you. More than you are already, it would shatter you into the abyss.

~~

Months had passed and you had gone from your bed to your couch. Nowadays, it was mostly the numb feeling. You’d gotten rid or moved any and all reminders of your late past wife.

You spent your days sleeping and crying. People always said it got better, but your pain when you felt it, was like the day you lost her. People were bullshit. You didn’t want anyone ever again. You didn’t want this. Didn’t want life.

On a good day, you had just enough energy to make it to the bathroom. Today, you had been in the bath for hours, already having refilled it twice. You had your head laid back as your line of sight hit a bottle of pills on your counter. Your gut tugged at you.

You could be with Casey again…

You leaned far with your arm and grabbed the pill bottle. You spun it in your hands and thought about it all.

She’s gone… never coming back… why not just skip the torture and be with her again…?

~~

“Alex…” Olivia breathed out with a light smile as the blonde ADA strutted down the street and towards the brunette detective with her signature smirk.

Liv, Elliott, and Alex then walked the crime scene and got themselves familiarized with this new case. And when they had a second at the precinct, she pulled Liv aside.

“Hey Liv, I heard about Casey Novak, Y/N’s wife… How is Y/N…?” Alex asked with light concern.

You and Alex went to law school together. You had been really close. Until she went into Witness Protection. Since then neither of you had heard from each other.

“I… Alex…” Liv sighed, rubbing her temples, “I haven’t heard from Y/N in months…”

Alex’s jaw nearly dropped.

“What…??” She exclaimed, “Liv that’s… that’s…”

“I know, I know… I just got caught up in cases and I thought she didn’t want me there by the way it went down and—” Liv rambled.

“No Liv…! It’s— Where does she live…??” Alex said in a panicked and concerned tone.

Liv quickly gave Alex the address, Alex stopped by Cragen’s office to let him know she’d be gone for some time, before the blonde practically ran out of the precinct.

Olivia was quick to follow, having trouble keeping up with how fast Alex was going. But she got to the blonde in the parking garage, stepping in front of Lex’s car before she could drive away.

“Alex! What is happening…??” Liv exclaimed.

“Get in the car!!” Alex called out.

Liv quickly got in the passenger seat and sped away.

“Lex… talk to me please…” Liv softly spoke, interlocking her left hand with her girlfriend’s right hand.

Alex took a deep breath as she sped down the roads to your place.

“Liv… When Y/N and I were in school, she got really close to a professor, she was like a mentor to Y/N… In our last year… that professor died…” Alex breathed out.

“Oh… I’m sorry…” Liv gently said.

“No Liv that’s not it. What’s it is what happened afterwards… Y/N started behaving oddly, becoming more reclusive and anti social… and then…” Alex gulped, and flinched a little at recalling these harsh memories, “Liv, she tried to kill herself.”

Liv’s whole demeanor changed, her eyes going wide. She felt guilt wracking her body.

How could she have been so stupid…? How could she have left you alone for so long…? What if..??

The car screeched to a halt just outside the apartment, and the two women rushed into the building. They ran up the stairs and Olivia had absolutely no hesitation in barging down the door. The women rushed into the room and looked around frantically.

Alex listened for you, and she faintly heard the sound of water running. Her eyes widened and she exclaimed,

“Bathroom, Liv, bathroom!!!!” Alex cried out.

Alex stumbled the bathroom door open and stepped into the overflowing water from the bath that was everywhere. She yelped desperately in distress. Tears started to run down Alex’s cheeks, as she placed a hand over her mouth, the other hand still on the doorknob.

Liv came rushing behind Alex and was just as horrified at the sight as Alex was.

The overflowing water… the empty pill body… your lifeless body..

“We-we need a bus…” Liv stammered into her radio, taking ahold of Alex.

Hell knows they both needed the support…

“It’s not your fault, Liv. Not your fault…” Alex whispered.

“Like hell it isn’t…” Liv breathed out.

~~~

Casey Novak Masterlist

Olivia Benson Masterlist

Alex Cabot Masterlist

[ashthewaterghoul]

I'm Still Your Favourite Regret, You're Still My Weapon Of Choosing - A Banana!Verse One Shot

It wasn’t too common for Alpha to stay in Dew’s room after their nights together. It only happened when they were both too worn out. No other reason, it wasn’t like either were particularly cuddly after their usual hate fucks. Yet last night wasn’t the usual hate fuck… Or, Dew and Alpha make an impulsive and rather permanent decision. The morning after, with the sun shining down on what they did, makes the two react in a less-than-healthy way for their now-bound souls.

Words: 3190

Rating: Teen and up (just bc of like a smidgen of sex talk)

Relationships: Alpha/Dewdrop, some background Swiver and Air/Earth.

Tags: Whatever the Ghoul-equivalent of getting impulse married in Vegas is, bc this is that, angst, whump, feels, unhappy ending, Alpha can't deal with his emotions, the morning after, mating bonds.

Inspired by @anotherbananasong 's universe.

Title taken from 'Blood Sport' by Sleep Token

~~~

    It wasn’t too common for Alpha to stay in Dew’s room after their nights together. It only happened when they were both too worn out. No other reason, it wasn’t like either were particularly cuddly after their usual hate fucks. Yet last night wasn’t the usual hate fuck.

    You barely had to look at Dew to know how much of a dive his self-esteem had taken since his forced transformation. His hair, his temperature, his very soul had been changed by whatever torture was laid upon him. Alpha had sat with Dew the first time he summoned flames to his hands, and the crushed look on Dew’s face said it all. He was broken.

    Alpha didn’t do emotions. He was the Ministry’s resident asshole. His Fire fuelled his every word and action and no one ever came to him for any of that teary, feely bullshit. He’d burnt those bridges long ago.

    So that’s why it came as a shock when Dew dropped the usual vague message for one of their nights together. Dew hadn’t been with anyone since waking up, so why was he getting that chance?

    Alpha found himself to be nervous for the first time he could remember as he walked up to Dew’s room. And when Dew opened the door so Alpha could duck through, he knew he couldn’t do it, couldn’t give Dew those biting words and harsh treatment he usually did. Dew’s eyes were red and raw from crying, his clothes looked like he hadn’t changed them for days and his entire demeanour was just completely and utterly sad.

    The door locked behind him, and Alpha found his mouth running before his brain.

    “I- I can’t, Dew. Can’t do this when you’re like that.” Since when was he considerate?

    “No! Don’t leave, please.” Dew begged, more tears falling as he threw his arms around Alpha.

    And that’s when Alpha felt it. The familiarity in the flames that coursed through both their veins. Two souls begging to burn together.

    As Alpha woke up, his face dropped at the feeling in his chest. There was something else there. The flames in his soul dancing with Dew’s own in an eternal duet. His hand was throbbing and a bloody strip of fabric laid on the other side of Dew’s nest. When Alpha looked at his palm, he held back a gasp as he looked at Dew.

    For the first time since the Ancients got Dew out of that Satan-forsaken ritual room, the little Ghoul looked peaceful. He must have been having a good dream because even asleep he was smiling like the cat that got the canary. He looked as young as he was meant to, not the haunted gaze he’d taken on recently. Alpha could feel the contentment thrumming in his chest. What was this magic? Why was he so attuned to Dew? What happened last night?

    “Mate with me. Give me your heart.”

Read below the cut or on ao3

“Oh shit.” Alpha said as the memories came back crystal clear. He held one hand in the other, a finger tracing the wound that matched one on Dew’s own outstretched palm.

    The little Fire Ghoul was so broken and Alpha had just gone and broken him even more. No, Dew was too good for this world. He’d been through so much; he didn’t deserve what Alpha always gave him. Careless and cold and cruel. He wasn’t sure how it even started, the dynamic between them. He doesn’t remember Dew asking for it, and he doesn’t remember ever wanting it. He always walked away from their sessions feeling dirty and guilty, even with aftercare and maybe a round of make-up sex. But he wasn’t for all the feelings and emotional intelligence. So, he always snuffed it all out and shoved it into the far corners of his mind.

    He got out of the nest, careful not to disturb Dew, and got his clothes back on as quickly as he could. A quick check in the bathroom to make sure his veil was in place and he beelined for the door.

    Dew rolled over and gave a contented little hum, still fast asleep and oblivious. Alpha surprised himself with the smile that grew across his face at the frankly adorable sight, but it was soon replaced by an unbearable guilt for what he’d done. He silently padded back over to the nest. He brushed Dew’s hair from his face, leant over and said the words he had said the previous night. Words he would never say again out loud when he knew people could hear,

    “You are so loved.”

    He gave Dew’s head a small kiss, then steeled himself for the walk back to the catacombs. Luckily it was still early so no one was out. River had been talking about going to Swiss’ for the night, Omega was probably still asleep, Lake was somewhere and so he just had to worry about not seeing-

    “Morning.”

    “Hey Alpha.”

    Oh great. The fucking lovebirds.

Alpha gave non-committal grunts to Air and Earth.

    “Is Dew okay?” Air asked. While Alpha would always call him a literal airhead, he knew what Dew and Alpha got up to. And it being so soon after Dew woke up, the concern in Air’s face the previous day when Alpha left for the little one’s room was severe.

    However, for Alpha the mention of his mat- the Fire Ghoul had him growling, tears once again welling up in his eyes.

    The rarely seen tears were enough to make both Ghouls freeze. Earth didn’t even have a remark to make about someone growling at his mate.

    Alpha went to his room, slamming the door behind him and falling to the ground against it. His tears were coming more rapidly now and just to boot he could feel Dew. He must be awake now and his own confusion and pain were radiating down the bond they now shared. It twisted Alpha’s heart, and he hated it. His throat burned with the sobs he was slowly failing to hold back so he ripped his veil off and held it to his mouth to muffle his cries.

    His pain and Dew’s swirled around in his chest. He never dealt with his own emotions, now he had to feel someone else’s?! Alpha grabbed at his shirt and balled up the fabric over where the bond was.

    Couldn’t it go away? Just go away! Alpha internally begged, crying and rocking himself until he felt something shift. Dew was getting nearer. Oh fuck no, he was coming down to the catacombs. So, Alpha did what he always did. He took his pesky emotions, locked them down and threw them into the back corner of his mind.

    There was no conceivable reality in which Alpha would ever be a good mate, so he promised himself he wouldn’t even try. Maybe it would push Dew away enough so they could ignore what they did, maybe the little one could find a mate who was truly worthy of him. And maybe Alpha whimpered as he felt it weigh down on the bond.

----

    Dew woke up feeling odd.

    Usually after his sessions with Alpha he was sore, or just tired. But this was different. The Ancient had left before Dew woke up but that was more common than not. Dew couldn’t quite explain why that hurt more than normal though. He shrugged, blaming it on the cut on his ha- Oh shit.

    “You are so loved.” Alpha had said as he held Dew like he was some sort of deity. Every pass of his large hands was nothing less than reverent as was everything he had done with Dew that night.

    Dew didn’t know he could be so genuine and heartfelt and in a rush of his own emotions he said something mad. He expected Alpha to say no, for the dynamic to shift back to what it usually was and all emotion to be lost. But Alpha kissed Dew oh so gently, took the spare veil Dew kept stashed in his room for any of the Ancients, just in case, and said, “Do you think this would work? We don’t have any of the normal ritual bindings in here.”

    The fabric was just a few feet away from Dew, soaked with both their blood and the infernal magic that the rites carried. That wasn’t the only evidence of what they had done last night. Dew could feel Alpha in his soul. His burdening turmoil weighed like a stone in Dew’s heart. It made him whine as he felt every note of pain his mate was in.

    Dew and Alpha may have made a very stupid heat-of-the-moment decision, but he always tried to be a Ghoul of his word. If he had a mate now, he would do his best and be a damned good mate.

    He pulled on his clothes and ran out of his room. Sure, his t-shirt was on backwards and he was completely barefoot, but he didn’t really care. Something in the bond came alive as Dew steadily grew nearer to the other end of it. He almost allowed himself a small smile at the warm fuzzy feeling of it until it was suddenly gone. It felt like a wall had gone up, and he couldn’t feel Alpha anymore. Not in the same intensity at least.

    Dew had to stop halfway down the stairs and grasp at his chest, ironically enough with the hand that bore the wound of their mating. Fuck, it hurt. Mating bonds weren’t supposed to do this. They were meant to be left wide open, conveying nothing more than the Ghouls’ love and commitment to one another. Dew started whining at the stone that had suddenly become a boulder in his chest.

    “Dewdrop?” The familiar voice of Air echoed up the stairs, his footsteps too as he drew nearer, falling to his knees to be closer to eye-level with Dew, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

    Dew, desperate for comfort his own fucking mate didn’t seem to want to give him, fell forwards against Air’s chest, managing to become somewhat acquainted with the pain that showed no sign of letting up.

    “It’s okay. I’ve got you, Dew.” Air soothed, wrapping his arms around the little Ghoul.

    The two stayed there awkwardly on the steps until Dew nodded and pulled away, “I need to speak to Alpha. Is he home?”

    Air’s eyebrows furrowed with concern as he nodded, “In his room.”

    Air led the way even though Dew knew the catacombs like the back of his hand, and Earth was waiting by Alpha’s door.

    “Nothing.” He said, to his mate as they approached. Dew’s own concern grew at Earth, of all Ghouls, being worried for the Fire Ghoul.

    Air knocked on the door, “Alfie? Dew’s here, can he come in?”

    There was silence from the room and Dew could feel the muted panic of the Ghoul inside.

    “Alpha, you’re never like this. We just want to help.” Earth added.

    Still nothing, and Dew could feel the bond being more and more shut away. His wounded hand still over his chest, he did his best not to show the pain all of it was causing him.

    “Satanas, fuck. Alpha! Open the door or I’m breaking it down!” Earth said in a much louder voice and angrier tone.

    “What are you shouting for? It’s too early.” Omega came from his room, rubbing sleep from his eyes and scowling at the Earth Ghoul.

    “No need for breaking anything.” Air said to his mate, before glimmering away into the vents.

----

    Alpha was frozen in fear when he heard Dew’s name. He couldn’t face him, not after what he’d done. If he just ignored it, they would all leave him. He could come out in a few hours with his usual bite and snark and all would be back to normal.

    “What happened to your veil?”

    “Fuck!” Alpha startled, not noticing Air materialising in front of him, “Warn a Ghoul before you sneak into his room.”

    Air gave a small smile, “Maybe you should stop wrecking your veil and you’d notice me.”

    “I don’t know about that. Mattresses are hard to take any real notice of. And I didn’t wreck my-“ But as Alpha looked to the mound of fabric that until moments ago had still been up to his mouth. Not only was it stained from tears and snot, but dozens of fang and claw marks had been slashed through it in his frantic attempt for comfort. It was completely ruined.

    “Oh, fuck. I- I- I didn’t mean to! I promise! I-“

    “Hey, you’re fine. It’s fine.” Air assured, “It’s just cloth. This is why we all have multiple.” Air got up and walked over to Alpha’s wardrobe to get a fresh one.

    Alpha couldn’t rip his eyes away from the wrecked veil. Twice in twelve hours, he had desecrated what the Ancients used to show their faith, their worship, their commitment. His own was a burnt orange to match his Fire. It was a random idea when the Ancients started veiling that they would all have colours that matched to their Elements. Alpha called it dumb but he stuck with it. He couldn’t help that it complimented his eyes! As Alpha stared at it more, he realised it was now a perfect match for the shade of Dew’s eyes.

----

    Earth was anxious as Air disappeared into Alpha’s room. He didn’t like interactions between the two when he was present, let alone with a locked door in the way.

    “Everything okay in there?”

    “Yup, just a veil situation.” Air shouted back.

    Earth visibly relaxed, but Dew tensed. He knew how important the veils were to all the Ancients, especially Alpha. It had taken a while for the older Fire Ghoul to let Dew put his hands or face anywhere near it.

    A few moments later Air slipped out the door and shut it behind him before Dew could so much as smell Alpha within.

    “He, uh, doesn’t want to see anyone right now.” Air said regretfully.

    “Doesn’t want to see anyone? Or doesn’t want to see me?” Dew questioned.

    “He said ‘anyone’.” Air confirmed.

    Dew snarled low in his throat, his Fire prickling away under his skin. Alpha’s own much bigger, angrier flames burned with them.

    “Well then, he’s a big grown-up Ghoul. When he’s stopped fucking pouting and sulking like a kit, he can come talk to me like a fucking adult!” Dew raised his voice enough that Alpha absolutely would’ve heard him. He kicked the door, rattling it within its hinges, before turning around to leave the catacombs. He shouted as he left: “And I need another spare veil for my room!”

    Air, Earth and Omega were all left staring dumbfounded at each other and the space Dew had been standing in.

    Dew however, was seeing red and needed to be as far away from Alpha as he could. He stormed back up to his own pack’s dorms and his eyes narrowed when he saw Swiss’ door. He knew River had stayed over, he could hear them giggling as the TV played, and Dew decided No Happy Couples.

    He knocked and River answered, “Dew, you okay?”

    “No, I need Swiss.” Dew said shortly, his chest twisted as River’s face fell at his tone.

    “Oh, okay. I’ll, uh, head down then.” River mumbled, saying a short goodbye to the confused Multi.

    “The fuck, Dew?” Swiss said annoyed, everyone knew how sensitive River is.

    Dew couldn’t hold back anymore and started bawling.

    Swiss’ frustration completely faded as he rushed over and gathered Dew up in his arms. Swiss was no Ancient but he was still taller than Dew and carried him over to his nest. Swiss tried to get Dew to talk but he just shook his head as he cried, carefully keeping his hand balled up and hidden.

    He managed to fall asleep for a while, and when he woke up, there was one glorious moment where Dew thought the larger body wrapped around him was Alpha’s. But reality soon came crashing down on top of the boulder that had remained rigidly in place. He thanked Swiss, apologising for ruining his morning with River, and went back to his own room.

    Dew tried to clean up his room, put it back so it looked just as it did before Alpha had arrived, trying to erase what they did. As he picked up the veil they had used to bind their souls, Dew felt his eyes welling up again. He wanted to burn it so bad. Say a big ‘fuck you’ to Alpha and destroy the fabric that held so much significance to him, with the flames he had taught Dew to use. But he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

    Instead, Dew raised it to his nose. It smelt so delectably of the two of them. He hid it under a pillow and continued fixing his nest. What he didn’t realise was that as he shoved the fabric away, he shoved the bond away and closed it off, just the same as Alpha had.

    Alpha wanted to be stubborn and play this game? Fine, he could do it. But as Dew was learning to dance with the flames, he was also learning that he could go on too. Dew would pretend that none of this had bothered him, and it would just be more fuel for their hateful dynamic.

    In reality? Dew couldn’t sleep until he was clutching that bloodied veil to his chest, smelling the both of them on it.

    And as for Alpha, he kept the veil he had wrecked that morning too. Because after his nose had pushed past the scent of his own misery, he could smell where Dew had held onto it and begged Alpha to be his, for their souls to be one.

    It was only in the moments in the dead of night, when he was sure Dew was asleep, that Alpha would lift that veil up to his face and wish the little Fire Ghoul himself was there with him, to kiss away his tears just as he did for Dew did on that fateful night.

    The two fell into a game of circling each other, silently trying to goad the other into breaking first. They never spoke about it and refused to acknowledge the bond that tied their souls together forevermore. They didn’t seem to care that by hurting each other they were only hurting themselves.

    Every time Dew tried to get Alpha to just look at him, he was treated like nothing more than a smear of shit on his boot. And Alpha never even tried to get anything from Dew other than to be left alone.

    It landed them in an endless cycle of their flames fully coming out for each other and neither were willing to even try and douse it out. Always yearning for love and comfort, and not realising they could have it in each other if they just let it happen. Forever stuck in an eternal world of shared misery that they isolated themselves in.

a/n: ...…Until Earth says ‘fuck this shit’ and beats Alpha to pulp for being such a dickhead.

One shot master post can be found here!

[onlybeeewrites]

A Toast

Requested: no, but I had a rare inspo with my favorite Bridgerton Boy

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Warnings: angst, no happy ending for you (sorry Queen )

Word count: 1.3k

"Must you go?” The young man whined, rolling in the tangle of soft bedsheets and downed blankets. His hair unruly and all over the place from your night spent together. Your clothes strewn all over the fire-lit room.

The evening was already late, the spring air getting cold as the hours without the sun cooled the streets outside, making a soft chill in the air. You had climbed off the bed, clutching one of the many blankets around you for some sort of decency. Though as you stood beside the bed, you turned and grin at the man in the bed. Though he was not your husband, but someone you certainly wished to be. He instead was simply someone you had spent endless hours with, wanting a shared bed together every few nights when you could find time to escape. “I must,” you say with a sigh, “you know I must,” you remind him, walking back over to his side.

“I would spend the entire night with you if I could. But if I am caught coming home late, my father with put bars my windows,” you teased, pressing a kiss to Benedict’s lips.

Though that was the first mistake because his arms worked his way around you and pulled you back down to bed, “and I shall come to your rescue,” he announced, keeping you close. His hands running down your bare back, making shapes and such on the warmth of your skin.

A smile grew on your face, moving your hair out of your face to get a better look at him. “Sure you would,” you said, sarcasm practically dripping from your words. The idea of Benedict coming to your rescue was amusing, mainly because it never would really happen. “But I really must go!” You insist, pulling away from his arms. From there you moved around the room, collecting your clothing items, getting redressed. All while Benedict watched from the comfort of the bed you both shared.

“It really is a shame you must go. When may I see you again?” He asked eagerly, his arm resting against the back of his head as he watched in the dim light. He allowed his eyes to rake over your form up until you had clasped the dark cloak around you. The only thing that allowed you to come to these secret meetings of passion.

You gave him a look, walking back over. Your small heels muffled by the soft carpet beneath your feet, “I shall let you know,” you say, pressing one last kiss to his lips. “Goodnight, Lord Bridgerton,” you say teasingly against his lips. With that, you pull away and slipping out of his room, out of the apartment, and into the night as you had done almost a hundred times before. Though unaware of the last time.

The thought of your last meeting with Benedict lingers in your mind while the candle light glimmered against the sharp crystal that decorated the home. The sweet smell of cakes and other sweets filled the air. The sweet memories flooded back to your mind so quickly it had only made you dizzy. Or perhaps that was the heat of the summer night. Or perhaps it was the one too many drinks you had consumed that night.

Though one thing you couldn’t shake was the eyes. All the eyes that were upon you. And it was like you remembered where you were. What you were doing. What was happening. What you are supposed to do.

The crowd of people was filled with what was almost a hundreds of eyes. The room almost filled to the brim. Full of your family, close and distant, friends, and other respected members and families of the Ton. And you cleared your throat, lifting your glass to the gathered crowd, all adorned in their nicest clothing. You remembered what you were standing at the top of the staircase for, holding your glad of champagne.

“A toast to the groom,” you say, your speech starting. And your eyes flickered over to Benedict. Standing tall, an expression of fondness on his handsome, clean shaven face. He looked as handsome as ever, adorned in a new black suit, fitting him like a glove. There was a wash of happiness over him. And the entire room smiled, glancing over to the Bridgerton with fondness.

You remembered all the times you had spent with him. At balls, in the art galleries, in the twisted sheets, rather improper of you, but the things that Benedict had lured you too. Though sworn to secrecy, your little meetings were something you had looked forward to. Something you had not experienced in months even though you’ve seen him almost every day in your tea room.

“To the bride,” you then say, the smile coming to your face. The bride. Your dearest, older sister. Who had been smitten by Benedict the moment she had seen him. She had been speaking with some friends at the hall of the beginning of the season when she had seen him. Having been away studying in Paris, your sister was freshly returned.

And perhaps that is what drew Benedict back to her. Perhaps it was your older sister’s charm, beauty, cleverness and education you never would have gotten. Or would get. She had gotten very lucky in that department. Brains and beauty.

You remember her speaking with Benedict for the first time. How her eyes lit up. How his eyes lit up too. Those beautiful blue eyes that you had spent hours staring into. Falling for. Speaking to about nonsense until the dead hours of the night. But it seems your sister did too. The only difference was that his eyes didn’t light up with you. Perhaps lit up with mischief, excitement for what the night would bring. But not this kind of intrigue. And that was the night you knew your little rendezvous with Benedict were over.

You couldn’t do it.

Not with how your sister had been looking at him. Not with how he was looking at her. And so you stopped. But he didn’t seem to really mind. Because he started showing up at your home. Not for you, but for her. Calling upon her with different sorts of gifts. Flowers, paintings, jewelry. Everything that she would adore, while you had to sit aside with your parents and watch as their bond only grew, and your bond ever slimmer.

You knew if you told your sister of your feelings of him that she would give him to you in a heartbeat. But you couldn’t do that to her. Not with how her face lit up when he would come in. So you’d be silent, watch as their love and happiness grew as your own ache did.

And grow it did. After weeks and weeks and month of courting. He proposed. You remember it all happening. The excitement on your sister’s face, the disbelief and joy. The relief and excitement in Bendict’s. It was surprising considering he had told you so many times that he wasn’t one to marry, to settle. Your sister must have been something special to change his mind.

Shaking from your thoughts, you focused again. Your smile grew again, though a bit forced. You were happy for your sister, you truly were. But it also hurt to see the very man who you spent hourless nights with, talking about what you’d both do; the possibilities of the future. But you realized then that the two of you had no future, not in the way that you had hoped.

“From your sister,” you continued, “who will forever be by your side. No matter what. And I wish you both the upmost happiness.” You finish, “congratulations,” you add as the glasses clinking could be heard before everyone took a drink.

Though you had allowed your sister this happiness, you’d struggle to cope. Knowing she was at the end of Benedict’s love, something that you would never feel or properly know of.

But that was okay. Because as long as your sister was happy and in love, you would be satisfied, even if you were not.

[phoebe-delia]

Friend!! For the writing prompts… let’s see. How about……. good luck babe by chappell roan. Or if you don’t want a song prompt, how about: pool day / cookout / bank holiday weekend etc

✨💛✨💛✨💛✨💛✨ to you dear friend!

Oh, oh Elaine, @oknowkiss you know the way to my little writer's heart!! Thank you for the prompt options, my lovely friend. What a great selection! I do love a good angsty song prompt, especially one with these themes. This is Drarry gold; I'm not sure why I didn't think of it sooner, to be honest.

Based on "Good Luck Babe" by Chappell Roan. Big big thank you to my darling @basicallyahedgehog for looking this over. cw: angst, unhappy ending, implied infidelity (not really between Harry and Draco)

"I don't think this is working."

Draco's fingers freeze in their task of buttoning up his shirt. He blinks at himself in the mirror once. Twice. "I'm sorry?"

His eyes shift to Harry in the reflection. Draco feels a bit disgusted with himself at the immediate rush of affection for him; for this man with his cotton shirt and boxers, now nervously running a hand through his sleep-mussed hair.

"I've had a great time with you these past few months," Harry says. "But I don't think this will work out. I'm sorry if that's not what you want to hear, but you deserve the truth."

Draco’s speechless for a long moment before he asks, “And what is the truth, Harry?”

Harry looks away, and Draco nearly snaps at him to at least have the decency to make eye contact while breaking his heart—but he doesn’t.

“The truth is that I don’t think this will work out,” Harry says carefully. “There are certain…responsibilities and considerations I have to make—”

Draco scoffs. “Bullshit. It’s because of her, isn’t it? You’re leaving for her.”

Harry flinches. “N-no. I just…”

“You’re a lot of things, Potter,” Draco says coldly, fingers moving quickly to finish buttoning his shirt, “but a coward hasn’t been one of them. Until now.”

“Draco, please—”

"Fuck off." Draco grabs his wand and strides out of the bedroom.

He heads for the door, but Harry beats him to it, blocking his exit. “Just wait—”

“Get out of my way.”

“No, Draco, not until we talk about this.”

“What's there to talk about? You already said this isn't working. Why try to fix what you purposefully broke?” Draco spits the last word like poison, relishing the way Potter winces.

"I just want to explain."

“No! You said I deserve the truth, but the truth is, I pity Ginevra," Draco sneers. "She’ll get your name and your ring. But she’s got no idea she’ll be marrying a man who closes his eyes and fucks her while thinking of men,” Draco's sneer twists into a cruel smirk. “Of me.”

“But....I love her,” Harry whispers.

“You love her like a sister, Potter.” Draco reaches forward, using a finger to lift Harry’s chin until their eyes meet. “But she could never make you feel the way I do. No one can.”

Draco surges forward, capturing Harry’s lips in a heated kiss. Harry gives in immediately, and he barely seems to notice when Draco flips them around and presses himself against the door.

He pulls away, panting against Harry’s lips, and reaches one hand behind himself to grasp the door handle. “Have a good life, Potter. I hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for.”

With that, Draco opens the door behind himself and steps backward. He slams it shut, but the last thing he sees as the door closes is Harry, staying silent, but with one hand outstretched, reaching for him.

Send me a prompt! See the guidelines here.

[britany1997]

Nightmares and Day-dreams

Peter Ballard x GN Reader

Note: I hope y’all enjoy this! This’ll be my last fic till May. I thought it would be fun to dip into some horror and angst for this one. (The next one will be fluffy I promise haha)

Comment to be added to my Peter/Henry Taglist

Warnings: Horror, dark themes, blood and gore, dead bodies, manipulating (reader’s innocent and a little lonely and this gets taken advantage of), psychic abilities, a tiny bit of mind control, unhappy ending

A soft knock on the door of your clinic woke you from your light slumber. You jolted, combing your fingers through your hair and wiping the drool from the corner of your mouth.

You smiled as you walked to the door. Only one person ever knocked, the same person who’d occupied your dreams a today and every night for weeks.

Since you’d started working at Hawkins lab, you hadn’t been able to get him out of your head. Sure he was attractive and all, his blue eyes alone would have anyone falling all over him. But there was something about him, something more than just his good looks.

Peter was so…sweet. He was patient with the kids, he was attentive and considerate of you and all his coworkers, God you’d rarely ever seen him without a smile on his face.

He was a genuinely good guy, sort of a rarity for you these days.

So when your day time fantasies had followed you to bed, you hadn’t been all that surprised. Peter was…the perfect man.

When he knocked again, you snapped back to reality. You realized you’d been thinking about his soft smile for much too long, once again.

You yanked the door open, only to be met with the sight of the sheepish, blond man, holding his hand against his chest and staining his all white clothes a deep red.

“Peter!” You gasped, your hands flying to cover your mouth as blood dripped down his wrist. Without Peter’s accident prone nature, you were certain you’d be out of a job.

“Hi,” he grimaced, wincing just a bit in pain.

“Oh my God Peter please get in here,” you grabbed his uninjured arm and pulled him inside.

He stumbled in behind you, more boy than man, blushing profusely.

You pulled out a chair, “sit,” you ordered before rushing to grab bandages and antiseptics.

Once you’d gathered supplies you knelt in between his legs. “Show me,” you ordered.

Reluctantly, he pulled his arm away from his chest to reveal the massive gash. It was worse than you could have imagined.

“How’d you even do this!?” You half asked and half scolded.

He cringed, “oh you know…” he trailed off but you hadn’t really been listening, too invested in stitching him up.

You sighed as you finished. “You can’t keep doing this,” you told him.

He gazed into your eyes, that sweet smile you loved so much brightening his whole face. “But then I wouldn’t get to enjoy the pleasure of your company.”

You blushed, trying to hide it as you stood to put away all of your first aid supplies.

“Don’t you have work to get back to?” you asked, flustered out of your mind.

He chuckled, “yeah I’d better get going.”

As he slipped out the door, you wondered how you managed to get anything done with him around.

You propped your head up on one hand, fighting sleep and losing as you glanced at the clock to read 10:42am. You sighed.

You couldn’t figure out what had you so tired these days. You’d been getting a full eight hours! And damn, you figured with your dreams filled with the face of your favorite blond man you would have slept a lot better.

You rubbed circles into your temples. You felt a wave of the same ‘head in a trash compactor’ feeling you did when you got no sleep at all. What was wrong with you?

Suddenly, you were roused from your thoughts by a familiar knock on your door.

Your pained face morphed into a bright smile. Peter.

When you opened the door he was standing before you, all white uniform, mug in hand.

“Good morning,” he smiled.

You returned his grin, even though your morning had been anything but good, it was much better now.

“No more injuries I hope?” You teased.

He laughed. “Not yet, but it’s still early I suppose.” He opened two creamers and poured them into the mug, stirring absentmindedly.

“Arm heeled up pretty nicely,” you noticed, coming around to touch the small mark where the giant gash had once been.

“Oh yeah,” he flexed a bit, “just needed a couple weeks and some TLC from my favorite nurse”

You giggled at his flirting, wondering what his curls would feel like if you ran your fingers through his hair.

He handed you the mug, “brought this for you.”

You gasped just a bit before taking a sip of the steaming liquid.

“Thank you so much,” you were touched.

“Don’t mention it,” he winked as he slipped out the door.

You smiled to yourself, he was so thoughtful, so considerate. You figured he must have been paying attention to you to notice you’d been so lethargic.

But…then again you hadn’t seen him this morning, not until now.

You shrugged, maybe he brought everyone coffee.

You pushed the thought out of your head, if that was the case, you didn’t want to know. You’d rather believe he thought you were special.

You took another long sip.

You startled awake at the feeling of someone nudging your arm softly. As you scrambled to collect your thoughts, still half asleep, you were met with Peter’s concerned face.

“Are you alright,” he asked.

“Yeah! Yes, I’m fine,” you babbled, blushing profusely.

“I knocked four times, I thought it would be ok to come in…” he trailed off, then frowned. “You’re really ok?”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Yeah um, I haven’t been sleeping well.” You told him.

But you had been sleeping well. For the past few days you’d been sleeping for ten hours instead of eight. Yet it seemed to be doing absolutely nothing, you were still exhausted. Past the point of struggling to stay awake, you were fully napping at work now.

“Oh that’s awful,” you could feel Peter’s concern, his gaze trained on your drooping eyes. “That’s how they torture people you know…lack of sleep.”

“Really?” you yawned, not processing a single word he said.

“You should get some rest,” he told you.

“What? No! I can’t sleep here,” you protested, “didn’t you need something? You must have come here for something.”

“Just a band aid,” he tugged your hand until you were standing, leading you towards the cot in your tiny clinic. “I can get it on the way out, why don’t you lie down?”

The more you mulled it over, the more that measly cot began to look like a king bed at the Ritz Carlton.

“Well…maybe I could for a little…”

He nodded, “you’re of no use to anyone if you’re tired,” he rationalized, “besides, you deserve it.”

“I deserve it,” you repeated as you climbed onto the cot.

“That’s right,” he smiled as he crept towards the door, flicking off the light switch on his way out.

You barely even noticed him leave as you drifted off.

You awoke abruptly to the sound of an alarm blaring. You stumbled off the cot. Of course something happened during the few seconds, you checked your watch, hours you’d been asleep.

You grabbed your first aid kit and rushed into the hallway, but the sight you were met with chilled you to your core.

Your hands covered your mouth as you slumped against the wall in shock. Corridors you’d walked down every day were now stained with blood. Children you’d tended to when they were sick, held when they were crying, now littered the linoleum floor.

Fear coursed through you. You slid down the wall until you were crouched in a ball, defeated, all but waiting for whatever monster had pillaged the lab to take you too. You couldn’t help but think of Peter, wondering if your perfect boy had escaped, if he was ok.

As tears began to prick your eyes, Peter crept around the corner, covered in blood yet, more serene than you’d ever seen him.

Your heart leapt in your chest. Peter had evaded the murderer, maybe there was hope for the two of you after all.

But as he stalked closer, any semblance of hope left within you shattered.

Peter wasn’t just calm, he was…pleased.

As he stepped over the corpses of discarded children, he smiled down at their youthful faces. He nudged them to the side with his feet.

You could feel your heart pounding out of your chest as you realized the blood splattered on his face wasn’t his own.

He knelt down in front of you, smiling softly and brushing your hair behind your ear. “Hello sweetheart,” he cooed.

You recoiled, his soft touch might as well have been a stab. Any fondness you’d had for him melted away.

“Ah ah,” he chided, gripping your chin and pulling you close. “Don’t shy away from me.”

If you moved to escape his touch, he gripped you harder. His head followed your movements like a snake, waiting to strike.

“Please,” your voice broke, “don’t kill me.” You begged, trading your pride for a chance at survival.

“Kill you?” Peter looked hurt, “no darling I would never kill you,” he moved to cup your face.

You squeaked.

He smiled, “I’d rather keep you.”

Peter was a deadly spider and he’d entangled you in his web. As much as you squirmed and struggled to escape, it was already much too late.

“K-keep me?” You felt a slimey feeling overtake you, “like…you want me to be your…partner?” The dream you’d had for so long had dissolved to a nightmare.

He chuckled as he stroked the back of his hand down your cheek.

The gesture made your skin crawl.

“Silly human, you’re adorable.” He pinched your cheek cruelly, “how do I say this you’re… beneath me.”

You hated that his words could hurt you.

“You’re more like a…hmm how should I say this,” his brow furrowed, “ah, you’re more like a pet to me, a bunny or a kitten or something.”

You felt like you’d been punched.

“Your mind, it’s so fun to play with,” his smile was sinister, “I could never let you go.”

Your face twisted in disgust, you couldn’t imagine a worse fate for yourself.

Peter sensed your discomfort. “You’ll come around,” he decided, “but for now, you’ve had a rough day and you need your rest.”

He threw you a mocking pout as he placed a hand on your forehead.

Your eyes began to flutter closed, as much as you tried you couldn’t fight whatever Peter was doing.

“Sweet dreams,” he whispered as your world faded to black.

Taglist🖤:

@6lostgirl6 @misslavenderlady @sad-ghost-of-garbage @bloodywickedvamp @lostboys1987girl @crustyboypix @gothamslostboy @arbesa-mind @dwaynesluscioushair @anna1306

[alwaysurvalentine]

he's gone - st drabble

Written for Day 12 of @steddieangstyaugust - prompt: Terrible Things by Mayday Parade - wc: 848 (kept this one shorter) - cw: major character death

enjoy! 💛

“I wish I hadn’t fallen in love with you.” Eddie knows the words are a lie as soon as he says them, but it doesn’t stop him from continuing. “Things would’ve been so much easier if I hadn’t. Then I wouldn’t have to remember that yellow sweater you loved so much. That silly apron you wore just because the kids decorated it.”

He can see it in his mind, a plain white apron the kid’s got from some craft store, paint markers used to decorate the front. It wasn’t written in a straight line but El had put Hawkins Best Babysitter smack in the center; all the kids had written their names beside it – even Mike, which had surprised Steve when he noticed the tiny lettering near the bottom. 

“You and your stupid -” Eddie hiccups, a sob trying to escape him as he talks. “Stevie...how am I supposed to do this without you?”

Silence is his only answer, the picture in his hands offering a frozen frame of Steve grinning with his arms around Eddie and Robin’s shoulders. Jonathan took it when they all came to see Eddie’s first performance after the Upside Down. The Eddie in the picture is sweaty but smiling, eyes focused on the man next to him. Robin’s grinning in the photo, eyes almost closed from how big. He and Steve finally put an end to their dancing around each other that night. 

“I should have walked away when I had the chance.” Tears are rolling down Eddie’s cheeks now but there’s no point in wiping his face when he knows they’re not going to stop any time soon. Steve’s gone now – Eddie can’t imagine not crying every time he has remember that. 

“But you were so different from how I imagined. I thought you only cared about yourself, jut went along with whatever your friends said...Seeing and getting to know you up close? It’s like finding the perfect patch of sunlight to lay in – being under the shade of a tree is nice, but nothing compares to soaking up the sun with your friends. You were the sun.” 

A few months after the Upside Down, Steve had suggested a pool party at his house. Something to celebrate Max and Eddie finally out of the hospital and working through their recoveries. All the kids had jumped at the chance and Steve spent the next week planning the day out in detail. Eddie got to see Steve’s nervousness up close: a chicken scratch grocery list added to every time he thought of another snack, his pacing of the aisles at Family Video to rent movies they’d all enjoy, him cleaning the pool early that morning, and even his busy-ness as a host – running this way and that so no one had to want for something. At one point, the kids had started a chicken tournament with Nancy playing referee. Steve had laid back on one of the pool chairs with dark sunglasses hiding his eyes, and Eddie had been pulled like a magnet to sit next to the other boy. He hopes he never forgets the smile Steve gifted him with when he sat down. 

“Eddie? You in here?” Wayne’s voice traveled through the apartment, boots stomping until he found Eddie in the living room. 

“Wayne..” His voice cracked and a new flood of tears escaped. This time he did try to brush them away, palms swiping angrily at his cheeks. Eddie knew he looked a mess, could imagine the red puffiness around his eyes and his hair wild from where he’d tugged at it earlier. Wayne closed the distance between them, sitting on the couch next to Eddie only for a moment before tugging his boy to lean on his shoulder. Eddie wasn’t a little kid anymore but he took the comfort and curled as small as he could.

“He’s gone, Wayne.” He’s sobbing so hard he chokes, coughing before continuing. “He’s gone.” That’s all he can get out, mind a mess as he cries into Wayne’s shirt. He can feel his Uncle shaking with his own silent tears, Steve was like a son to him. 

His uncle sounds choked when he speaks again. “C’mon, breathe for me, boy.” Eddie doesn’t want to and briefly wonders if he can hold his breath long enough to pass out. He won’t do it, chest already heaving with the effort it takes to inhale. 

He just wants Steve to be here with them. Not gone where he can’t follow, not stuck in the hospital with different machines keeping him alive, not anywhere but here. 

Here in the trailer he called home the past year. 

Here with Wayne on the couch watching some sports game Eddie can’t follow. 

Here sipping on a mug of hot chocolate when it’s cold outside. 

Here talking on the phone with Robin with the cord curled around his hand.

But Steve will never be here again. Not physically anyway – no, Steve will only exist in Eddie’s memory and Eddie will have to exist with a Steve Harrington shaped hole in his heart.

[oncewhenalongtimeago]

Do you do requests? If not u can ignore this. Do u know how people say that a hero would save the world over u, when a villain would save u? That w Hiccup. Like Hiccup having to choose between saving y/n or others and he doesn’t choose y/n and then believes she’s dead. That would be the final straw for her and she would eventually start a relationship w the dragon hunters.

Can u tell I love angst😭

Castoff

Pairing: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Fem!Villain!Reader

Words: 2328

The gentle brush of fingertips as they slip apart, the pounding of blood as his heart falls out of your grasp. Those are feelings you are familiar with. Your relationship is one made up of meanings searched for where they are not, a deep care uprooted by a raging current and a single, meaningful mistake.

Tags: Angst, fem!reader, heartbreak, villain reader, unresolved insecurity, anger, canon divergent, first part?, suggestive content, RTTE, Httyd 2, 'Always the Angel, Never the God' adjacent

Next>

He knew before she did. You knew just as long as him. It wasn’t the kind of thing you or anyone else talked about, really, not to anyone but your parents and your true meant-to-be. But it was there. And you knew for the longest time that they were meant for eachother.

You didn’t know that it would have ever ended. Yet somehow, supposedly, it did. You still felt like an outlier, though. Your heart was his for so long that to see them together felt like a betrayal, and to be with him now felt like a betrayal of that.

You saw the look in his eyes, you watched them treat each other so familiarly, watched the others close in around them, perhaps looking to share in the joyful atmosphere, knowing that should you step into the light, the moment would be ruined.

You stepped away from the half open door, back into the darkness of the cabin, wondering how they could be so happy together even after the raid, a skirmish so tough and violent with some new dragon hunters from outside the area, unlike any of the ones you’d dealt with before. 

There was true love, romantic love and meant-to-be love.

Brown armor, red shirt, green eyes. Hands held gently, preciously out for your own.  

For the longest time, you didn’t have a love, true or meant-to-be. Well, you had a love that was certain to be true, but wrong in that it was made for someone who’d already given his heart to another. A heart that he’d, supposedly, taken back.

Now, you wondered what sort of love he held for you.

You made to reach out, but instead you turned away, missing the look of hurt you knew you would be there. You couldn’t, not with any of the others around. 

You didn’t miss the hushed conversation, carried on just the same as it was earlier but in lower tones, the small looks shared between them, the unsaid idea that maybe you just weren’t right. That you were a bad pair.

You knew what would greet you if you looked back; the hurt in his eyes, the loose brows, the slight disappointed tilt of his lips. 

You furrowed your brows. You let him down again. 

But it didn’t feel right, to love and share love, especially with her so closely there. With the ghost of them ever so present. It filled you with shame.

There was no bitterness held, only guilt born from many nights spent awake condemning yourself for your yearning. It was something you’d long since accepted was meant only for the dark of night, when no one else was awake enough to hear your heart flutter.

You still felt as if he was hers, that you were encroaching on something you weren’t supposed to have. It was a messy situation. They ended amicably, you’d been feeling terribly for a long, long time. You wondered if the feeling, the bone-deep hate for yourself, would ever go away, like you’d dreamed.

You had to stop and wonder when Hiccup the Useless became Hiccup and Useless. 

You buried your head into your knees, tired of staring out over the windy clifftop. No number of waves or gusts of wind could brush away your troubles.

You didn’t even miss Berk. You didn’t have a reason to go, nor one to stay. Just a floater, tethered only just so by the tattered, frayed strings of your own heart.

He was sitting next to you, a silent question on his lips, left unsaid but just as clearly heard.

You couldn’t forget how lonely you were, then and before, after he left you. A friend, somehow still physically so close and yet so far out of your reach. How quickly you were othered, how quickly you were labeled a pitiful tag-on. No amount of love, hidden nor shared, could ever make up for that.

Something tense was in the air between the two of you. You refused to give it a name, though you knew what it was just as well. It felt like the end. It felt like a new, terrible beginning. It felt like the heaviness in your gut and the slight burning of your eyes caused by the thin spray.

 Your touching fingertips became more as you clutched his hand, squeezing it.

You’d always been the confidant. To have the position switched was odd, unfamiliar. Hiccup was gawky and unsure in your boots. To have your troubles laid out between the two of you, of which there were many, disturbed you. The idea felt like a violation. 

So, without the words to speak them, you worked around. You found words you could speak, parts of some that were difficult and some that weren’t and strung them together like the split stems of flowers into a very nearly presentable crown.

You turned to your right, looked at him pleadingly, though you weren’t sure what you were pleading for. Nothing, everything at once, not to leave you behind, not to make you stay.

“Hiccup,” You stared hoarsely, hesitantly. It was silly, it was stupid saying it aloud. He wouldn’t, he couldn’t. He never would. 

Truly, you had only one question.

“Do you love me?” You asked. He looked confused, startled.

You leaned closer. You couldn’t tell which way he moved, if he moved at all. You imagined he moved away. He waited.

He looked at you expectantly. Unsurely. Why weren’t you moving closer? 

You’d never loved or been loved in any sort of way which mattered. The fact that you hadn’t felt like a burden, somehow just another reason as to why you weren’t deserving. An onerous boon that you just wanted to be rid of.

You didn’t know what to do. You didn’t know if you could.

He knew what was supposed to happen next. He’d experienced it; done it and had it done many times over. You hadn’t.

You two hadn’t been that close yet, not at all, not physically. This was not a boundary the two of you had yet crossed. You shared nothing more than a few mumbled words into the neck, a few shared words in your nook, a tight embrace and hands held loosely in the quiet darkness of the night. Promises, dedications. No actions.

The others knew about it, though. They heard the declaration, quiet and uttered as if it was just a casual thing. For him it was. You said nothing.

How could you?

You hesitated, waiting for an answer. Your lips twitched. Your eyes burned, stronger then. You shook your head and dropped his hand, which he let fall to the wayside. Using your hands and the floor, you pushed away.

As always, you couldn’t bear it. He waited for you, just as you didn’t want to be someone to wait for. You wanted to already have it. You wanted back the years you spent wasting away, coveted back the years you spent watching him give what you desperately needed so casually to another.

You stood, then.

It was a surprise when the two of you came together. No one had expected it. It seemed off, out of place. You weren’t sure Hiccup himself had, drifting in the spaces left between after he and her had split paths. 

You turned. You held your elbows and hunched your shoulders, turning your back to him and pushing against the wind, which though was light, felt all of the sudden as if it was way too much.

You weren’t sure he meant it. Whether or not this was real or something he’d just fallen into as per convenience.

 You did. You meant it. He was your true, he was your romantic.

What kind of love do you hold for me?

You knew the answer, plain and simple.

None. None at all.

You stood in the darkness of your cabin. Your windows were blocked, though you didn’t need the light. You’d been in for a while, you were used to it.

You’d exhausted your usual time-taking avenues, left with nothing but maintenance; folding, organizing, sorting. 

It was awkward. Since the clifftop, the two of you were distant. You didn’t avoid each other, but you also didn’t speak. It was a miracle that nothing had happened yet to force the two of you together.

You were beginning to believe that was the end of your relationship. You were having a hard time accepting it, though the feeling was creeping into your heart slowly and you were beginning to feel empty.

You didn’t flinch as the door to your cabin opened, creaking, though you winced as you turned back towards the light, started as he came up, pressing you against the wall.

Your lips met. 

It was not rough, more just so. It unbalanced you all the same.

He was unsure, nervous. Clumsy. But it was strong. But it was meaningful. But you could tell he meant it. 

You molded into his shape just as he molded into yours. Hesitantly, unsurely,  you responded. He was gentle enough to guide you.

Once again, you asked, though not so much in words as actions; Do you love me?

And this time, he responded. Your heart bloomed. Not violently, not roughly, just so, enough for a shining pink petal to crest the green sepal.

Yes. Yes, I do love you.

You were light, you were fervent, you were free. You believed him.

The same hunters from before. The lot of you had gotten captured. You were too distressed to remember if it had been your fault. There were rocks sharpened to a point below you, gray skies and windy, stormy seas rushing tumultuously below.

You were far from the Edge. In unfamiliar territory. Any allies unaware and absent. The dragons, trapped in cages long behind you.

Hunters were sailing away behind you. It was a victory, however it was also one that came with a terrible price. Something had been set off, violently at that, throwing you off the edge of the cliff face, destabilizing the cage held by a chain pinned to the rock above by a thin  steel nail.

“Hiccup,” You pleaded, breathlessly as your body struggled to keep up with your weight, with the rope  and chains tied around your ankle,  “H-elp.”

I need you.

“Just- hold on, the others-” He crouched, glancing frantically between you and the others handing caged off the side. Their chains were thin, yours were thicker though both were just as equally dangerous.

Please, I need you now.

You jerked back as another rope snapped. Unheard by his ears, drowned out by the raucous waves below and by the rattling of empty cages, pushed around in the air. Unseen as his eyes trained on the others. 

Hiccup didn’t see, eyes trained elsewhere. There was no time to waste. After all, if he helped you up, in the time that took, they might fall. They would fall.

“Hiccup!” Astrid shouted. Snotlout shouted. You remembered how they looked before you’re been knocked off. Fishlegs panicking, mumbling to himself zealously, distress projected clearly for all to see. Ruffnut and Tuffnut yelled mindlessly into the air, a waning battlecry as the island deteriorated around you

Somehow, in between terror, in between the pain of your ankle as it threatened to snap and the taut muscle of your arms, a grim doom began to worm and thrash and coil in your gut.

“I’m not- I’m not going to make it,” You said desperately, voice crackling, face crunching as tears began to spill over the edge, shoulders straining, holding on just barely. 

 “Please, there’s-Just, cut me loose-” You prayed, to whichever god was out there, he still had his knife. That he had something sharp. You were going to die.

You could tell he was stressed, overwhelmed, just as panicked. He shifted restlessly, stiffly, perhaps a million times in the last minute. Noise built up in his throat as he spoke but you were unable to hear clearly as your ears filled with buzzing. You tried to speak, but you couldn’t hear your own voice, too breathless and strained to make a sound.

You watched his eyes flicker, you saw the soot on his face and each strand of his hair as it waved in great detail, your world slowing down to a halt.

He stopped. You caught his eyes briefly, you saw as an idea formed, as his resolve hardened, and as he made his choice. You knew it would not be one he made for you.

“Hold on!” Hiccup shouted, as the other’s cries grew more intense, ears deaf to your pleas. He pushed away towards the other side of the cliff, running towards the others as their cage dipped once again.

There was a sharp pain in your chest, as if the nails you dug in with so despairingly were instead gripping your lungs, sharp and unforgiving.

Do you love me?

You were going to die.

 You blinked away tears and snot and all the little, tiny shards of your heart that had gotten stuck in your eyes on their way out.

You just had to hold on. You just had to hold on until Hiccup got back.

You shouted something wild, something animal as your fingers gave, numb with cold and sliding loose even as you commanded them to grip tight. You had no way to fight, no thing in which to fight with as your hold weakened on the slippery rock.

Your nails hurt as they worked against rock and loose dirt, fragile roots and falling stones. Your fingers pained as they worked furiously against themselves.

Hiccup left you. He wasn’t going to come back. You were going to die before he came back.

It was like a stake had been shoved into your gut.

Hiccup left you.

You were going to die.

Your vision whited out.

You were going to die.

You couldn't hold on any longer.

You fell.

[tswwwit]

I want a bill whump so bad, if dipper falls in love with bill every time he reincarnates but hes also a little bit different in every reincarnation, could there be one where hes almost entirely replused by bill, or already in love with someone else?

We all love to see that terrible little man struggling! Typically hurting Bill is accomplished via Dipper-death, but this is a neat alternate scenario. You know he's definitely going to start out totally full of himself! Winning his husband back should be easy! Until he realizes he has no idea how he did it in the first place.

[mugloversonly]

Staying in the past Moving Forward

So, I read this by @steddiecameraroll and disappeared into the void and woke up with this fully completed... I'm tagging @steddieangstyaugust but I'm not 100% sure it counts. If it does though, it fits well into today's prompt:

Prompt: Future | rating: T |

Summary: A look into the next year and a half for the boys (after refers to the breakup)

STEVE Morning after:

"Go to hell." That was the last thing Eddie said to Steve before he went with Robin to Indy the next morning as planned and told her what happened on the way.

She was pissed at him. She originally thought that Steve asked Eddie to come and he said no, which would have sucked, but she figured they could make long distance work. Steve was her best friend, but he fucked up and broke two hearts that didn't need breaking. When they got to their shared apartment, Robin called Eddie.

"Hey, it's Robin." She said once he answered. "I just called to say that Steve is an idiot. You were the best thing to happen to him and he threw it away carelessly." Eddie sniffled.

"I'm not going to take him back Rob." He said strongly. And he meant it. He knew one day he could forgive Steve, but his trust in the man would be forever damaged.

"I know. I'm not asking you to, just thought you should know that I'm not going to choose sides between you two. You're both my friends and he did you wrong." She promised to call him weekly and agreed that he wasn't going to call her as long as she lived with Steve. She could respect that.

Steve on the other hand, was angry. Not at Eddie or Robin, although a little at Robin. He was angry with himself. He assumed Eddie thought it was a fling. He knew they were planning on leaving but he figured it wouldn't be that big a deal. He was wrong.

"Did you know I was in love with you?" The words rang in Steve's ears. He didn't know but if he had, he's not sure what he would have done. He made Eddie think he was unimportant as if it wasn't breaking Steve's heart to leave him behind. He fucked everything up and a few minutes later he found out he could have had everything. God he's an idiot.

A week after:

"Robin I need to talk to him. Please." Steve begged. Robin took the phone into her room so she could talk to Eddie privately.

"He doesn't want to talk to you, dingus. I'm not going to let your fuck up, ruin my friendship." She shut the door in his face. That last part hit him hard. She was right of course. If she broke Eddie's trust by letting Steve talk to him it would ruin them too. He didn't want to do that.

A month after:

Steve tried to call the trailer a few times a week, but he never got an answer. He left voicemail after voicemail until he called and instead of ringing he heard, "The number you are trying to reach is no longer in service."

"What the hell?" He whispered. "Hey Robin?" He shouted to his roommate. At her affirmative noise he asked, "why is Eddie's phone disconnected?" He heard her stand and make her way to the kitchen. She took the phone from him and hung it up.

"You kept calling even after he asked you to stop. He called me at work today to give me his new number." She admitted. She was doing her best to help Steve get through the break up, but Eddie was her friend too and she felt partially responsible for what happened since she's the one who got into college. Steve sighed. He did this to himself. Tears welled up and began to fall. He'd cried every day for the past month but he didn't feel like he deserved to feel sad. He was the reason he felt this way, him alone. Eddie did nothing wrong, he was perfect. It's why Steve dragged it out so long. He made a mistake, if he could just talk to him and apologize, he knew this would all work out. It had to work out.

A year after:

"Go to Hell." The last words Eddie ever said to Steve. But not the last time he heard Eddie's voice.

Steve was at a bar. He was trying to find someone to hook up with, man, woman, it didn't matter. He was too thin, drinking too much, not doing well. He was staring at the bottom of a bottle nursing his still broken heart, when he heard it. Over the bar's radio a new single by a local Indiana group, Corroded Coffin: Death to the King. Eddie's voice poured through the speakers, shattering Steve's heart with each word.

The King rules with an iron fist Doesn't know what love is Uses his subjects like pawns in his game leaves them broken and in pain Death to the King who killed me first Death to the King it's what he deserves I saw us grow old through a crystal ball I saw the happy ending our kids growing tall The king saw nothing, nothing at all He took my heart When he left his throne Buried it in the forest And left me alone Death to the King who killed me first Death to the King it's what he deserves

Steve couldn't hear this anymore. He stumbled out of the bar and practically ran to his apartment. He no longer shared with Robin since she moved in with her girlfriend. Steve was happy for her, at least one of them should get love, and she deserved it for putting up with his shit.

He dialed her number and prayed she'd answer. "Hello?" Came a half asleep voice.

"Robbie?" Steve whispered. She grunted in response. "Eddie's band is on the radio! I just heard them." He said shocked, sure it would surprise her.

"I know." She said calmly.

"Oh, have you heard it already?" Steve asked.

"Yeah. He played me the demo last time I saw him." She said with a yawn. The last time she saw him?

"You visited him?" He asked.

"No, he came to see me." She said as if that didn't destroy Steve. He made the drive to see Robin who was just a few miles away from him. He could have visited. He would have visited if Steve wasn't so stupid.

"Steve? You still there?" She asked.

"I think I ruined my life, Robbie." Steve said.

"I think you did too." That statement hung in the air until Steve went to sleep.

The next day, Steve bought the whole album.

A Year and Six months after:

Steve sat down with Robin and the kids in his apartment. It was a bit strained with them after the break up since everyone thought Steve was in the wrong…not that Steve could blame them, he was the one who told them everything. Eddie had requested that their friends not take sides and Steve had done the same. He hoped this would smooth things over. He agreed to host a get together for everyone to celebrate being Upside Down free. And everyone would be here, even Eddie. Steve needed to stay strong and he would. He hadn't seen him since the night he blew up his life, but if he could explain Eddie was the right person, but the wrong time for Steve. Then everything would be okay. He hasn't gotten over Eddie and he hoped the same was true for Eddie as shitty as that sounded.

The doorbell rang and Dustin jumped up to grab it knowing who it would be. "Henderson!" Eddie's voice boomed through the apartment. The kids got up to greet him and they all came into the living room as a giant group. Robin hugged him next and asked how everything was going and then he turned to finally look at Steve a year and a half after he confessed his love. Steve met his eyes and couldn't stop himself from letting his gaze roam. He looked good. His lanky form had filled out to a more muscular build, he had quite a few more tattoos, and his long curly hair was longer and more well maintained than Steve had ever seen it. He had to say something.

"Hey, Eddie." He waved awkwardly. "You look good." He tried not to hide as everyone's eyes turned to them.

"Thanks, Steve." He replied. "And thanks for hosting." He smiled. It didn't look strained at all…maybe Steve was right and they could fix this.

"No problem. Do you want a beer?" Steve asked.

"No thanks, I don't really drink anymore." Eddie replied. Steve was shocked but he listed his available drinks and Eddie settled on a coke. Steve snagged a beer for himself on the way back. The group seemed to settle and everyone acted like it was perfectly normal for all of them to be together again. And maybe it was for everyone else. After all, the kids had been all spread out for college for months now. Eddie seemed perfectly content to chat with everyone even Hopper and Joyce when they showed up.

Steve was the one with the issue. But he did his best to not show how off he felt and he thought he was successful. He was 4 beers in when he was brave enough to ask Eddie to talk. Shockingly, he agreed and they went out for a smoke. Steve took his pack out and offered one to Eddie who shook his head. "Don't like my brand or something?" He scoffed.

"Actually no. Wayne had a cancer scare a few months back so we both promised to quit." Eddie said quietly. Steve felt like a dick.

"Jesus Eddie. I'm sorry." Eddie dismissed it with a wave of his hand.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" Eddie asked calmly. Steve meanwhile was freaking out. Here goes nothing.

"I wanted to start by saying I'm sorry for how I ended things back then." Eddie opened his mouth but Steve rushed forward. "Please let me finish." Eddie nodded. "It was a shitty thing to do. I shouldn't have ended things like that or blindsided you with it. I never should have done it in the first place because I've been miserable without you." Eddie went to speak again before shaking his head and gesturing for Steve to continue. "I loved you back then and I didn't think you loved me back. I still love you." This time, Eddie couldn't keep quiet.

"Steve," he sighed. His face was unreadable but the beer gave Steve courage.

"You're my right person Eddie. It was the wrong time a year and a half ago, but it's the right time now." He took both of Eddie's hands in his. "Please, give me another chance?" He asked hope bleeding into his voice. Eddie smiled softly but it wasn't a happy smile.

"Steve, I listened to you, so can you promise to listen to me?" He asked keeping their hands together.

"I promise. I'd do anything you asked." Steve vowed. Eddie ducked his head and began.

"First off, thank you for the apology. It was really shitty what you did back then. We had only been dating a few months so I understand you not asking me to come with you, but not telling me at all? That was the worst pain I have ever felt, including the bats." Steve sagged, he hated that he put Eddie through that. "And I forgive you."

"You do?" Steve lit up. Eddie held his palm up to indicate he wasn't done.

"I forgive you, Steve. But this isn't fair. You broke up with me. I can't… I won't trust you with my heart again." He whispered softly but with certainty. "You broke it into smithereens. Crushed it into pieces and then ground it to dust under your shoe as if it was a trinket from the arcade." Steve winced and felt tears begin to stream down his face. "I'm sorry, you're miserable Steve. I really am. I can try to be your friend again. Slowly. If that's something you can be okay with. But I'm not willing to be more than that." He pulled his hands from Steve's. "You were my first love Steve and a part of me will always love you. But I moved on. I'm moving forward. It's time that you did too." With that he turned and went back into the apartment.

Steve's vision blurred but he still looked at Eddie through the window. He didn't look affected at all by Steve's confession and his rejection of it. Was Steve so delusional to think that just because he couldn't let go, that Eddie wouldn't either?

He spent another half hour out there wishing things were different, when Robin came out. "Hey. Did you get closure?" Robin asked. Steve nodded slowly. "And?"

"I didn't want closure." At Robin's questioning noise he admitted, "I wanted a second chance." Robin gasped. "He said no. I don't blame him."

"So, what now?" She asked.

"I move on I guess. He said he'd be willing to try being friends again but made it very clear that's all we'd ever be." Steve hung his head and cried.

Two weeks later Steve saw a headline that stopped his heart: Corroded Coffin's front man engaged to mystery man!

EDDIE morning after:

"Go to Hell" the last thing he said to Steve as he stormed back to his van. He sped back to the trailer, the raw pain tearing him apart piece by piece. Luckily Wayne wasn't working tonight. Eddie needed him. He slid into the driveway and barely remembered to lock the car door behind him before he sprinted into the house. Wayne was sitting in his rocking chair but one look at the state Eddie was in had him jumping to his feet.

"What's wrong, son?" Wayne asked. The tears that were starting to fall became a river down Eddie's face as he told Wayne what happened. Wayne pulled him onto the couch and into his side. He held his boy and rocked him softly as he cried.

"What am I gonna do without him Wayne?" He whispered.

"You want to feel your feelings or want to fix it?" Wayne asked. This was a system they came up with when Eddie was little. Sometimes Eddie just needed to vent without Wayne trying to solve the problem.

"Fix it, Wayne. Please. It hurts so bad." He sobbed. Wayne held him tighter.

"It'll probably hurt for a while." He said sadly. "Here's what we're going to do. You are going to go rest. When you wake up I'll go pick us up some of your favorite foods from the diner while you shower. Then we're gonna comb through the house and get every reminder of that boy out of the house and in the trash where it belongs. We're going to get rid of everything that makes you look behind you. And finally! We are going to get drunk on the good beer and watch one of those horror movies you like so much. How does that sound?" Eddie smiled even through the tears.

"That sounds like a great idea dad."

"Only look forward from now on Ed."

A week after:

"Ed! Phone for you." Wayne called. Eddie wiped his eyes and moved to answer it. He checked the clock and realized exactly who would be calling.

"Hey, Rob." He said. He was happy to hear from the girl, glad that their friendship wasn't destroyed by Steve's actions.

When she called a week ago he thought about hanging up but she didn't sound like she was going to yell at him. He was right. It was the same with the kids. When he didn't go to see Steve off, Dustin called him. Eddie expected to be torn into but the boy was calling to see if he was okay.

"Steve told us what happened and I just want to say, that was shitty of him. I don't know if I think he's a good guy anymore." He admitted. Eddie's heart hurt, not just for himself but for Steve and the party.

"Listen, I can't tell you how to feel. But don't pick sides on my account. Robin and I are still friends even though she's rooming with him. Don't let our falling out destroy your friendship. If you decide on your own that's one thing, but don't do it for me." Eddie said. Dustin agreed and passed it on to the rest of the party. As soon as he hung up, the phone rang again and it was Robin. She expressed similar sentiments as Dustin. They agreed to call weekly. Which brought them to now.

"Hey, Eddie. Let me go into my bedroom." She apparently called from the kitchen in case he didn't answer. She began walking and he could hear Steve in the background.

"Let me talk to him, please." He heard Robin tell Steve no and shut her door.

"Sorry about that."

"No problem…thanks for that." He said earnestly.

"I'm not going to let him hurt you more by breaking your trust in other people." She said sternly. The two talked about their week before Robin asked the dreaded question. "How are you doing by the way?"

"I'm alright. I mean…I've been better but I'm not drowning myself in booze." Robin chuckled. "I don't blame you Robin. He made the choices he made, not you." He said again. He said it their first call too but he got the feeling she didn't believe him. Hopefully this time it would stick.

A month after:

"Hey, Eddie. It's Steve. Listen I know you haven't been answering me but I just…I want to talk to you. Apologize properly. I miss you." The machine told him. Eddie rolled his eyes. He asked Robin to tell Steve to stop calling. He didn't get to dump Eddie like a broken toy and then beg to talk to him. That's not fair. It's so selfish. Eddie thought Steve wasn't like that anymore but…he was wrong.

"Hey Wayne?" Eddie said as he stepped out onto the porch. At his grunt of affirmation, Eddie continued. "How much hassle would it be to get a new phone line?" After explaining to Wayne that he asked Steve to quit calling but he wouldn't, he agreed to get another phone line. Thankfully, it wasn't that hard to tell everyone they spoke to about the change. Eddie made sure to call Robin's work number to give her the new one though. He didn't want to risk Steve answering.

Six months after:

The band was actually making waves. They veered from the death metal scene and went into hard rock. It wasn't too much different if Eddie was being honest, but it was getting attention. They were preforming at actual bars and getting a crowd. They had groupies and agents were scouting them.

Eddie had indulged in the casual sex of it all but made sure to stay away from drugs, he knew what that shit could do. On some nights, he wasn't looking for a hook up, just someone to talk to.

It was one such night when Eddie met Zeke.

Zeke was everything Eddie never knew he wanted. Tall with dark hair, dark eyes, and mocha skin. He radiated confidence but he spoke shyly. "You guys are good." He said as he slid into the seat next to Eddie.

"Thanks. We've been playing together a long time." Zeke seemed interested and the two of them chatted. Not once did he think of Steve, a first when it came to chatting up men. So far every man was compared to Steve whether Eddie wanted to or not. But, Zeke was so different and Eddie felt ready to move on. The night ended with Zeke walking Eddie to his car and Eddie brushing a kiss to his cheek with a request to come to the next show.

Zeke kept his promise and showed up again and again. Eventually, he asked Eddie on a date to which he agreed. The only time he thought about Steve that night was when Zeke asked if he'd ever been in love. "Once. It didn't end well." At Zeke's sad and confused eyes, Eddie told him what happened. He couldn't help the way his eyes welled up, but it didn't hurt as much to tell this story. "Just, promise me one thing?" Eddie asked.

"Anything."

"If you decide you don't want to be with me, for whatever reason, don't do it like that." The pain was still in his voice and Zeke looked heartbroken for him.

"I won't."

Nine months after:

Wayne came out of the doctor's office with tears in his eyes. Eddie expected the worst. He had gone in for a routine checkup last week and they were worried they saw something. "It's okay, boy. It was benign." Wayne reassured as Eddie threw himself into his uncle's arms. "We gotta quit smoking though. It might be too late for me, but you're young." Eddie met his uncle's eyes.

"Whatever you want, dad." He promised. On the way home, they stopped at the drug store to get nicotine patches and gum. The next few weeks were going to suck, but it would be worth it to put Wayne's mind at ease. He silently promised to quit drinking too.

After Steve left, Eddie drank a lot that first month. But now, he wasn't as torn up. He was still hurt, of course he was, but he knew he didn't do anything wrong. It was all Steve and the only thing Eddie could do was forgive him.

Eleven months after:

"Robin, are you going to be in town next week?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah. Why what's up?" Robin situated herself at the dining table. She recently moved into an apartment with her girlfriend. This meant she could talk to Eddie freely. At first she didn't want to leave Steve alone, but he promised he'd be okay, and they hung out nearly every day anyway.

"My band is coming there to record an album. We'll be there for about two weeks." He said as nonchalant as he could. That didn't stop Robin from screaming her excitement and nearly bursting his eardrum. "Jesus woman! With pipes like that you could blow the windows out of Notre Dame."

"Sorry, sorry. That's so exciting!" She congratulated him. He shared the details of when he would be in town and where they were staying.

"I also wanted to show you a demo before we put it on the album. It's a different kind of personal than some of the other things I've written and I want your opinion."

"Sure!"

The next week saw Eddie playing his "heartbreak anthem", as the boys called it, "Death to the King". It was the song they were singing when they were noticed by this label so they wanted to put it out there, Eddie just wanted to make sure it wasn't obvious who it was about by those that didn't know him.

He drove his sword through my heart His court jester lost his spark He wasn't cool, he didn't shine And the king screamed, you're no longer mine I gave him my loyalty I gave him my love I gave him everything wanted nothing in return He took it all from me and left me to burn Death to the King who killed me first Death to the King it's what he deserves

The song played through and Eddie felt raw. "So?" He asked.

"It's about Steve obviously. But you wouldn't be able to tell really if you didn't know the two of you dated. Especially when you consider all the other songs about anti-establishment on the album." Robin was right. it would blend in.

A Year after:

"Death to the King" was playing on radio stations all over the country. It was being requested in call ins and the buzz for the album was booming. It was set to come out that night and the band was celebrating tonight! The band flew into Indy from Chicago so they could all be together with their friends and family. Robin came in with her girlfriend Libby and made the rounds.

"I'm so proud of you Eddie!" She said and hugged him tightly. The kids of the party and other young adults (minus Steve) were all there and it was sweet.

"Thanks, Buck. Oh! This is my boyfriend Zeke." He said introducing them.

"Finally I have a face to the name." She said and shook his hand. She didn't let go and yanked him down to her level. "Listen to me closely. If you hurt him, I will end you. He's been hurt enough by idiot boys, alright?" Zeke nodded and leaned back eyes wide.

"Wayne gave me a shovel talk earlier too. But I don't plan on hurting Eddie and if I ever do, I will find you and let you do what must be done." Zeke promised.

"That's all I ask." She said before she began milling around.

"She's terrifying." He said. Eddie laughed at his boyfriend.

"She is isn't she?"

As the album wrap party wound down, the band all stood at the front of the room to thank everyone for coming.

"There's one more thing though" Gareth said. "Eddie, this album is filled with your pain and heartbreak from a year ago." He was touched by their recognition.

"We hate that you were hurting but we all saw how cathartic this album was for you." Jeff spoke next. He tilted his head in confusion, it seemed like they were leading up to something.

Bear closed out with "and while we don't want you hurting, we hope that this doesn't turn our music into sappy shit." He grabbed Eddie by the shoulders and spun him around to face Zeke who lowered himself to one knee.

"Oh, holy shit!" Eddie screamed uneloquently and covered his mouth with his hands. Zeke laughed softly.

"Eddie, when we met you were just starting out. I got to see, not all of it, but a lot of hard work, dedication, and sleepless nights that led you here. I have never been as happy as I am with you. And I know it's a little soon, we've only been together for six months. But I love you Eddie. You're it for me baby. I asked Wayne for his blessing and he gave me this." He pulled out a ring box from his pocket and opened it to reveal Eddie's mom's ring. Tears ran down Eddie's face. "I got it resized to fit you, I think. Wayne mentioned it was your mother's and her mother's, you know all the way up the chain. And since you don't have any sisters, we figured it could be yours. So, will you marry me?" Zeke finally asked. Eddie was nearly sobbing now but he was determined to speak. But first…he full body tackled Zeke to the ground.

"Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes!" His friends cheered and in a heap on the ground his fiance slid his ring onto his finger as their lips met. The flash of a camera reminded him everyone else was in the room. They broke the kiss and he smiled at the group. His eyes caught Robin's and he saw the joy in them for him but also the tinge of sadness she must feel for Steve. He shook his head, he was over Steve and had been for a while, but they were friends once. Maybe they could be again.

A Year and Six months after:

Eddie stood outside Steve's apartment. He was glad Zeke understood when he explained it was a night for the survivors of the "Earthquake" only. He flew in with Eddie and was hanging out at the hotel waiting for him to get back. They were planning on Seeing Wayne tomorrow. He knocked and was relieved that Dustin answered the door. He stepped in and caught up with everyone he'd seen recently before finally turning to see Steve for the first time in a year and a half.

He didn't look good. Bags under his eyes, five o'clock shadow, too skinny, and most telling of all, his hair wasn't done. They went through the awkward stage of catching up with an ex, before Steve asked to speak to him outside. Eddie didn't really have anything to say to him, but closure would be nice.

Except, the more Steve spoke, the less Eddie wanted to be out here. "This isn't fair. You broke up with me." Eddie wanted to tell him he was engaged but now wasn't the time. He wanted Steve to understand that this was how Eddie felt, regardless of another person in his life. He didn't want to get back together with Steve because of Zeke, but because the pain Steve caused him was too great. He would always love Steve, you never forget your first love. But Eddie didn't want to look to the past, only the future. As he left Steve outside, a weight lifted off Eddie's chest. He finally felt free to fly.

The next morning he called his PR team and gave the okay to announce the engagement.

Two weeks later when the article came in, Zeke and Eddie cuddled on the couch and read it together.

"Corroded Coffin's front man Eddie Munson is engaged to accountant Zeke Forester". Eddie had never been happier and was moving forward.

[loserboyfriendrjl]

“you and lucius are going to have a baby,” she spat out, incredulously.

narcissa nodded, a small smile breaking out across her face. “isn’t that terrific news, bella?”

“it is terrible news,” bellatrix replied. “a baby!” she yelled, throwing her arms up in the air, losing her usually cold demeanour. “in the middle of a war! narcissa, have you even thought before?”

she blinked. “we have, in fact,” she said, quietly, “but i would have thought that you, as my sister, would be supportive of what lucius and i decided for our future.”

“cissa,” she hissed, her fingers wrapping around her sister’s arm. “this is one of the worst decisions you have ever, ever made, and you will regret it.”

“i will not!” narcissa whispered angrily, prying her sister’s hand off of her. she wiped her eyes angrily and stormed towards the manor, leaving bellatrix in the cold.

[ashthewaterghoul]

https://www.tumblr.com/ashthewaterghoul/766771422142038016/httpswwwtumblrcomashthewaterghoul76675997042

Pleasure knowing you all 😔

I'm going to say the same, because I have a feeling my flat is about to surrounded by an angry mob...

Pro Memoria - #phanter cuddle buddies

    After however many years it had been since that glorious reunion, Copia and Phantom didn’t spend too many nights apart. Sure, there were tours and Copia would have to leave on business trips sometimes. But, more likely than not, they were together. Their bond closer than anyone had ever seen or would see again.

    No one even questioned it anymore, and everyone quite easily recognised the two as father and child despite the species barrier. Even they didn’t really acknowledge it anymore. For all intents and purposes Phantom was Copia’s child, and Copia was Phantom’s father, their Papa. It didn’t matter that Copia was actually Frater and had been for some time now, Phantom only ever called him Papa. It was what they called Copia when they were first summoned and he held that title, and plenty of humans called their dads Papa so it just made sense to them.

    But there was one thing that came with Copia being human that both of them never really acknowledged. And all things must end one day…

Read below the cut or on ao3!

    Phantom had been glued to their Papa’s side as of late. He got very achy and tired easier and so Phantom would always help, giving little zaps of Quintessence and providing comfort in the way they both loved. Their nightly cuddles. Tonight was no different, Phantom in some fluffy pyjamas that Copia had bought for them, and Copia in some that Phantom had gifted.

    Copia got under the covers with a bit of a wheeze as his hips seized up, and Phantom gave some Quintessence so it would be easier for him to get comfy. He looked a couple years younger as he smiled at Phantom. They could almost ignore all the grey and silver hairs and the wrinkles with the youthful glow of Copia’s beam.

    Phantom then climbed in, and wrapped their arms around Copia’s abdomen, their head on his chest to listen to his heartbeat. They nuzzled their nose into Copia’s top, inhaling their favourite smell of old tobacco settled into woollen sweaters and aged parchment. They truly would never ever get enough of it. It was the smell of love and safety and home to them.

    Copia wrapped his arms around Phantom too. One around their back, rubbing up and down gently, the other in their hair as his bony and rigid fingers massaged a little. Phantom smiled and purred at the sensations, wrapping their tail around one of Copia’s legs, and Copia smiled too.

    “Buona notte, sogni d’oro.” Copia said.

    “G’night, Papa. I love you.” Phantom returned, yawning and stretching at the same time.

    “I love you too, il mio piccolo pipistrello.” Copia said, putting a kiss between Phantom’s horns.

    And like every night they had spent in each other’s arms, they fell asleep easily and completely content. A smile on both of their faces as the dreamworld whisked them away into its imaginative embrace.

    Phantom woke up first, judging by Copia’s stillness next to them. They sleepily managed a corner smile at that, been as it had only ever happened a handful of times over the years. But as Phantom came around more, they noticed something was off.

    Copia smelt different. Faded, and musty and…

    His chest wasn’t moving. Phantom’s head was still on there, and they couldn’t feel it moving up and down with his breathing. Time seemed to freeze as Phantom also realised they couldn’t feel his heart beating either…

    Phantom sat bolt upright and looked at Copia, their breaths quickening and too shallow. He was still smiling and looked so peaceful.

    “Papa?” Phantom whispered, reaching a hand to his face and finding him cold. Way too cold.

    Phantom’s face dropped, and tears threatened to fall. Their throat was squeezed tight with emotion and their soul felt so empty. Even more than it had been for the years they had to spend apart long ago.

    “No, Papa, please!” Phantom said, shaking Copia to wake him, “Wake up, please! Don’t-, no!”

    Phantom doesn’t know how long they spent trying to wake their Papa up. But they refused to succumb to the part of their mind that dared to say it was real.

    “No. It’s just a nightmare! I can’t- I-…” Phantom lost their words as sobs took over. They laid back down, frantically placing Copia’s limp arms back around them.

    It was just a dream, right? There was nothing about this that was real. Phantom would go back to sleep and wake up and Copia would be there, and everything would be okay.

    Phantom cried harder as Copia’s arms failed to listen to their muscle memory and hold the little Bat.

   They think they may have fallen asleep at some point. But when they woke up, Copia was still… asleep, and someone else was there too.

    “Phantom?” It was Aether, but Phantom refused to open their eyes or even move, “Bat, please, you have to let him go.”

    Aether’s voice was cracked with emotion as he reached a hand to Phantom’s shoulder. But they shrugged it off and held Copia tighter, nuzzling into him in an effort to find his heartbeat. He was just wearing a thicker jumper because he’d been getting colder easier. That’s why Phantom could find it, it was just buried a little.

    “No. I need to be here when he wakes up. I’m always here when he wakes up. He panics when I leave before him.” Phantom said, their own voice strained against every emotion that wanted to burst through their chest with the fragments of their broken heart.

    “Phantom, he’s gone.” Aether said.

    They shook their head, “He’s not. He’s fine, he’s just sleeping.”

    “He’s not waking up. I’m sorry, Bug, he’s dead.” Aether said in a voice heavier than a tonne of bricks.

    Phantom’s bottom lip started wobbling as they started crying again, “No! He’s not! He can’t be!”

    At some point, Aether had climbed in behind Phantom shaking and sobbing form, his hands around their torso and one lying over their heart to give them some Quintessence.

    “No,” Phantom said as they felt the magic, moving Aether’s hand to Copia’s chest, “Give it to him. Wake him up! He has a meeting this morning, and he’s going to be late if you don’t wake him up.”

    Aether’s heart broke even more as he felt the magic wash over Copia’s still and very much unalive chest under his palm.

    “I’m so sorry, Phantom.” Aether said again, and started moving.

    Before they could register what was happening, Aether had stood up, not letting go of Phantom, they were pulled from Copia’s hold as Aether carried them away.

    They saw Copia’s body, alone in his bed, and the empty space Phantom always filled.

    “No! Aether, please!” Phantom begged, kicking and flailing as much as they could, “I need to be there when he wakes up! Please, let me go!”

    Aether pulled Phantom back out of the bedroom and into the main living area of the Imperator Suite. There he knelt on the ground with Phantom, still wrestling to keep them in his arms. Aether nodded at the mortician who went in, bowing to Copia, before moving him onto the stretcher and body bag.

    “No! That’ll hurt his back, a- and his hips! He can’t breathe in there! Stop, please!” Phantom pleaded, choking on sobs.

    Aether just kept hold of them, trying to keep his own strength no matter how much his own heart was shattering. For Copia and Phantom both.

    When Aether woke up, his Quintessence was screaming at him that something was wrong. The bond he shared with Copia had merely ceased to exist overnight, and the one with Phantom was in such pain and stress and turmoil - Aether immediately knew what had happened. He ran up to the Imperator Suite and seeing Copia’s prone form, Phantom wrapped around him and begging for him to wake up, to be okay, all but confirmed it.

    When the mortician wheeled Copia’s body out, Phantom lunged for it, and managed to break Aether’s hold on them. They stood up and unzipped the bag. Copia was still smiling, shadows of his Clergy paint still on him from where he got too tired to scrub the little remainders away the night before.

    Phantom threw their arms around him once again, “Don’t leave me, please. You promised you’d always be there for me.”

    Aether and the mortician let Phantom have their time, but everything must end at some point.

    “It would be best for me and Frater to leave now.” The mortician said, “The Siblings will be leaving the breakfast hall soon and I’d hate to have to take Frater through them all.”

    “Of course.” Aether said, his voice thick with emotion as he peeled Phantom off of Copia’s body again.

    This time, Phantom had no energy to try and fight back, and so collapsed into Aether’s arms. And they broke.

    “I can’t, Aeth. He- he s- said he’d never leave me.” Phantom sobbed, hyperventilating on the panic of the prospect of living in a world without their Papa.

    “I know, Buggy, he didn’t want to leave either.” Aether said, holding Phantom as tight as he could.

    “Why did he go? I don’t want him to go!” Phantom cried.

    “I didn’t want him to leave either.” Aether whispered.

    Phantom’s sobs overtook them as they cried themself dry, the effort twisting their stomach and making them dry heave and choke on nothing. Aether held them the entire time, and slowly gave them more Quintessence until they were passed out in his arms.

    Phantom woke up in the bottom of a Ghoul pile, and for a glorious moment, they forgot why. When they scented everyone else’s sadness and despair, it all came crashing down around them, and they started crying again. They tried getting out from everyone’s hold, saying they needed to see their Papa, but everyone kept saying he was dead. Why would they say that? It wasn’t true, he was just asleep!

    But they kept saying it. And when the Ghouls were permitted to go down to the Chapel of rest to say their goodbyes privately, Copia was still asleep. He still had a small smile on him from being with his bambino that night. He was in his sleek black suit and his ruby Grucifix. His paint was on and he looked fine, he was okay. So why was everyone crying? Why were they crying? It wasn’t real, it was just a nightmare. A nightmare they’d soon wake up from, and Copia would be there to help them get over it. To tell them it wasn’t real, just a cruel and unsettling trick from their mind like the rest of their nightmares were, and help calm them back to sleep with loving words and gentle kisses and firm hugs.

    Maybe they were crying from exhaustion? They hadn’t slept right for the last week since Aether took them from Copia’s room. It was just that. It wasn’t sadness because their Papa wasn’t dead.

    “Must be a good sleep you’re having, Papa. Why won’t you wake up?” Phantom asked.

    All the Ghouls had left something with their Papa, and Phantom left the bat plushie they had brought with them on the night they were reunited.

    “I love you, Papa. Don’t leave me. Don’t leave your piccolo pipistrello, your bambino.” Phantom pleaded again, once more throwing their arms around Copia’s body, desperately trying to lift his arms to wrap around him.

    The mortician had to intervene at that point. Something about the embalming and rigor mortis making it so that Phantom could hurt Frater if they did that. But Phantom shook their head, holding their Papa and putting their head on his chest.

    “Please wake up, Papa.” Phantom asked again. And when Copia’s content and smiling face remained still. They sobbed once more.

    They were meant to say something at the funeral. They wrote the speech, and stood at the lectern and opened their mouth. But no words came out. Because saying these words meant Copia was dead. And Phantom wouldn’t accept that, couldn’t accept that their Papa was gone forever. They descended into sobs as they held onto the coffin and Mountain stood, bringing Phantom back to the pew and sitting them with the Ghoulettes as he read Phantom’s words instead.

    Phantom’s body was there, but their mind wasn’t. Their mind was in that last night falling asleep with Copia. Their Papa’s lovely scent, his tight arms, his beating heart.

    Phantom found quite a bit of irony in Quintessence Ghouls being nicknamed ‘voidlings’ as now that’s all they felt like. Their brain was hollow and unfeeling, their heart a pit of nothingness, their soul just completely empty.

    Like his brothers and father, Copia was put in a glass coffin and laid in his own alcove in the Ministry catacombs. Phantom found themself never leaving, always spending every possible second they could there. They had to be there when he woke up. Copia always panicked when he woke up and Phantom would be gone. Even if they left a note, Papa wouldn’t always see it right away, or he’d forget to put his glasses on and he couldn’t read it. He’d been asleep for so long, Phantom had to be there when he woke up.

    One day, they went down, and they never left. They stayed curled up next to their Papa’s coffin, like a cat in a cemetery waiting for their owner to return. And Phantom, locked into their mind and their grief, withered away and slowly succumbed to the void. Maybe they’d find Copia here, and they could hold each other’s souls in their embraces forevermore.

One shot master post can be found here All posts about this universe/hc can be found here on ao3 or under the #phanter cuddle buddies tag here on tumblr