#angstember prompts

[ivystoryweaver]

Day 11: I Never Knew (Marc, Jake, Steven)

Summary: You meet up with all 3 Moon Boys one fateful night

Notes: gn!reader, angst, violence, fluff, protective Moon Boys being the absolute best TW: abuse. This story starts with an abusive boyfriend.

Word Count: 4.8k

Angstember Prompt Post

Your boyfriend of two years had tested the last of your patience. At first you loved his passionate hotheadedness. You quickly fell for him and moved in together six months later. It was lovely at first, to have someone fun and spontaneous, to sleep next to a warm, protective body at night.

After about a year together, you realized something wasn't right. Your boyfriend kept odd hours, whispered hushed conversations over the phone, made "quick stops" at the oddest hours to the shadiest places.

And that hotheaded passion sizzled into blame and resentment every time you tried to reason with him. He was always quick to apologize, to bring you flowers, or a gift, to take you out for the night, lavishing you with attention and intense, vigorous sex.

So you gave him the benefit of the doubt. He was trying, and every couple had their struggles.

But the fuse of his temper got shorter, and his actions, more suspect. He lost his regular job but somehow still brought home money. When you questioned him, he accused you of not trusting him. Something felt wrong, you knew it deep in your bones, but you told yourself that relationships take work and compromise.

It was just last week that you demanded to know why he was out all night - who he was with and where they went. He'd raised his voice before, on occasion, but that early morning was different. He roared out accusations, lunging at you, and continued yelling and screaming over your cowered body. He didn't touch you, but his words beat you down, literally to the ground, where he left you afraid, sobbing and alone.

That's what it took to make you realize he was abusive. Clearly, he was now verbally abusive, but you started to understand that he had been manipulative, dishonest and controlling the entire time, lying about finances and whereabouts.

He had abused you in almost every way, except physically. You knew it was time to leave, so you started to plan how you would secure yourself a place to stay and what to tell him.

Your phone rang as you finished packing your suitcase - the first of many things you needed to move out. Not recognizing the number, you ignored the call. But it rang again and again and again, with a voicemail that warned you to answer. You blocked the number and tried to frantically dial emergency when your boyfriend burst through the front door, enraged.

Barreling into your bedroom, he roared at you, demanding to know what you did with "the money". Apparently, the phone call was from his boss, calling to collect.

"You mean my money? From my job?" You challenged, shrugging him off and zipping your suitcase closed.

Jerking the luggage out of your hand, he screamed at you about how he needed that money for his boss, how he'd taken care of you all this time, and you owed him.

"You're gonna give me that fuckin' money," he spat, lunging toward you, but you were already running out the door with only your phone in your hand. You thankfully made it into the lift with the doors closed before he caught up, and you could only pray he wouldn't make it down the several floors of stairs and beat you to the lobby.

There was no one downstairs to help you, so you raced out the door into the night, frantically attempting to dial 999 while crying and trying to stay ahead of your insane boyfriend.

You ran as fast as you could, but he was bigger and stronger, and he was gaining on you. Attempting to cut through an alley, your lungs burned, painfully dragging in breath as you pushed yourself toward safety.

But he found you.

Your mobile clattered to the ground as he grabbed both your arms and shoved you hard against a brick wall, calling you all manner of vile names and demanding you give him the money from your account.

Noticing your phone, he twisted your wrist well beyond the point of pain. "You didn't call anyone, did you, bitch? If you get the police involved I'll fucking kill you."

You had already drained your joint account and put money in your personal savings account so that you could afford a deposit on a new place, at least get a moving truck and hook up some utilities. You didn't take any more money than you had made from your job at the museum.

"I owe my boss money and I need it right fucking now," he bellowed, wrapping one hand around your throat and squeezing. “Tell me where it is.”

Unbelievable that it took you til right now to realize your boyfriend was more than an asshole, he was apparently a criminal. Or at least his boss might be if he was demanding a midnight payoff "or else".

"I moved... the money," you gasped, completely out of breath from the running and the crying and the choking and the fear.

He gripped your shoulders and slammed you hard against the wall. "We're going to get it right now. Then we're going home and you're gonna get on your hands and knees and pay for all this shit you put me through."

You whimpered, trembling at his threats, disgusted that his eyes flashed with self-satisfaction. He slipped two fingers into your mouth, pushing them far enough to gag you, an evil chuckle making you cry harder.

"Oh yeah. We're gonna have fun tonight, baby."

"I don't think she wants to be your 'baby', shithead."

You gasped as two eerie, white gloved hands grabbed your boyfriend's head and slammed it against the wall, hard enough to knock him out cold, but not enough to bash his skull in. Unfortunately.

Through your tears, you saw an etherial mummy figure, bandaged and gauzey white, with haunting, moonlit eyes. Your body quaked with more terror than you'd ever known. Perhaps he was the boss your boyfriend was so afraid of.

You passed out in Moon Knight’s arms.

"Shit," Marc Spector hissed, lifting your limp body into a protective embrace. He'd heard your screaming blocks away. Khonshu had directed him to the asshole passed out on the pavement next to you, letting Marc know he was a small player in an elaborate criminal organization. It would keep him busy tonight.

Brushing your hair out of your eyes, he sighed. "Didn't mean to scare you." He decided to take you to A&E, but before he walked away, he kicked your unconscious boyfriend in the side for good measure.

You woke up on a hospital bed, alone, a long while later. It appeared you had been triaged but not admitted. Remembering your boyfriend's threats, you decided you better bail before the police questioned you or you found yourself responsible for medial bills you couldn't pay.

You were scraped and sore, but nothing seemed permanent, so you did your best to sneak back to the waiting room where you could blend in with other would-be patients. One nurse seemed to glance at you questioningly, but you managed to make it out the sliding glass doors and into the night.

Now what could you do? You had no money, no phone, no purse, no bank card, credit cards or cash. Your suitcase was back at your flat. Ambling around the side of the building, you shivered in the night air, realizing even your jacket was still in the building.

Tears burned your eyes but you couldn't give into them. Not now. Your best friend was out of town. It was a long weekend for your co-workers, at least in the office part of the museum. Your parents lived in another country.

Think, think.

A few minutes later, an old fashioned cab pulled up to the curb. The passenger side window lowered revealing a man with a flat cap and a mustache.

"Need a ride, señorita?"

Drawing your hands to your chest protectively, you quickly shook your head. "I-I don't have any money. I dropped my phone."

Shit. Why did you admit that to a stranger?

Jake Lockley nodded understandingly. He had been watching the hospital to make sure you had a ride, should you emerge. Marc's idea, after he did a little late night ass kicking. Marc knew the Moon Knight suit would frighten you, but he wanted to make sure you were okay. A cab ride might seem less intimidating.

"It's on me. You look like you could use a little help."

Tempting. But he probably worked for your boyfriend's boss. "No. No thank you. I'm fine."

"Understood. Be careful out there." He rolled up the window almost all the way before pausing. "I'll swing back by in a while, just in case you change your mind." He drove off without another word.

If he was aiming to hurt you or kidnap you, surely he could have forced you into the car, or worked harder to convince you it was safe to get into the car.

Weighing your options, you decided to try to walk back to the alley where the terrifying white-suited, Avenger-looking dude saved you. Hopefully your boyfriend would be gone and you could at least find your phone. From there, you would have a way to call a cab or the police or at least use money from your account.

As soon as you started walking, you realized how stupid this plan was. But what else could you do? It took you forever, but you finally found your way back to where you were attacked. Your boyfriend was indeed gone and after a maddening search, you found your phone with a cracked screen and 12% battery left.

Better than nothing. You thought you might order an Uber, but where could you go? Not home. Where?

Maybe to work. Someone there would help you, surely. Perhaps Steven from the gift shop - probably the kindest person you'd ever met. He lived in your building too, although you weren't sure in which flat.

You ordered the Uber, and ten minutes later, the same old fashioned cab pulled up to the curb. Your stomach flip-flopped, wondering if this mustached weirdo followed you. But he showed you the Uber confirmation and it was correct.

"But this is a cab," you reasoned.

He chuckled. "They don't make ‘em like this anymore, doll. This is my Uber car."

You tried to listen to your protective instincts, but the sun was rising. You'd been out all night and he was a legitimate driver. So you tucked yourself in the back seat.

The man tipped his hat, announced his name was Jake, and closed the door for you.

"Headed home?" He asked, glancing up at you in his rearview mirror.

"Uh no. No, I can't go home," you quickly answered, wrapping your arms around yourself and rubbing up and down with your hands.

"Got the heat on for you," he kindly offered, "and my jacket's laying across the back seat there, if you need it."

Your eyes cut over to the tempting leather. Without thinking about it too hard, you snatched the garment and pulled it around your trembling shoulders. The smell of not only leather but crisp freshness and earthy warmth, along with something like amber and oak, washed over you. You buried your nose in the comfort of it, grateful for this small mercy.

"Warming up?" He asked you after a quiet few minutes.

"Yes, thank you. You're very kind."

"My pleasure," he grinned in the rearview mirror and it made his eyes crinkle. Steven, from the museum, came to mind. His eyes did that too. "Where can I drop you? Have you decided yet or should I drive around for a while?"

"Oh god, sorry. One sec." Checking the time on your phone, you realized you'd been out practically all night, and the museum would open in a little more than an hour. You could wait outside. "The natural history museum, please."

"A little early for a trip through time. You sure?"

Just then, your stomach growled embarrassingly loudly.

"You ever eat at the bakery right down the street?"

"Um, sometimes." You fidgeted uncomfortably.

"No pressure. You just look like you could use something warm to drink."

Without another word, Jake pulled up to the museum's front entrance. You reached for the door handle, but stopped. "Actually...you're right. Could you drive me to the bakery? I'll just walk back to the museum when I'm done."

"As you wish."

A few minutes later, the old cab parked outside one of the only open restaurants at this hour. Jake rushed around to open the door for you and you quickly handed him his jacket.

"You can wear it if you're cold. No rush."

There was something warm and sincere in his eyes. Again your mind drifted to Steven.

"Thank you." As the two of you walked inside, you held up your phone. "I tried to pay for the Uber and leave you a tip, but it won't let me. Did the transaction get cancelled or something?"

"I told you," Jake reminded you, pulling open the bakery door, "My treat."

"Oh. Thank you. You didn't have to do that."

The two of you sat down and were quickly served glasses of water.

"At least let me pay for breakfast," you offered, but he laughed.

"They only take cash here, I think."

"Jake!" An older man bellowed, bustling up to the table with a karafe of piping hot coffee and two mugs. "We take more than cash. You can always wash the dishes."

The man winked down at you. "I'm teasing, sweetheart. Name's Burt. Janey got one of those Square things, so you can pay on your mobile if you do that kind of thing." He nodded at Jake. "But I'd make this one pay if I were you. Coffee or tea?"

You chuckled, happy to get your hands on a steaming mug of coffee, and slightly relieved that you wouldn't fall further into Jake's debt.

Soon enough, you filled your belly with a warm, flaky pastry and some eggs, polishing off two cups of coffee while you and Jake talked.

"Do you mind if I ask why you're going to the museum?" Jake inquired.

"Um...I work there," you slowly admitted.

"Oh." An unreadable expression clouded his handsome features. "But...I found you at the hospital last night. Are you hurt?"

Your eyes dipped in shame.

"Not trying to be nosy, just...concerned, is all." Gently reaching across the table, he pulled a leaf from your hair. An actual leaf.

You were mortified.

"Wanna freshen up before work?" He nodded toward the washroom.

"Yeah. Thanks." You made a beeline for the loo, wondering why you hadn't thought to put yourself together before walking into the museum like a crazy person.

Jake was right to be concerned. You looked like hell. Dark circles had formed under your eyes. Before you could continue silently berating yourself, the waitress named Janey quietly slipped through the swinging door.

"You okay, dear?" She softly asked, eyeing you in the mirror. Before you could answer, she handed you a clean cloth.

"Thank you," you whispered, gingerly taking the cloth and running it under the faucet. The kindness around you made you sniffle, and you were left wondering why you spent so much time on an asshole like your boyfriend.

"Rough night?" She waved her hand dismissively. "Don't want to pry. Just want to help."

"Thanks," you repeated. "Do you have a toothbrush for sale? Or...mints?"

Between you and Janey, you managed to clean up your mouth, wipe down the upper part of your body and manage to tame your hair.

"You come back by any time, dear," she said lowly as you walked back toward your table, but she reached out her arm to stop you. "I mean it. Anytime."

You nodded, reaching for your phone so you could pay for your meal. "On the house, sweetheart," Burt smiled down at you. "A friend of Jake's is a friend of mine."

You were speechless. Where had all the nice people been hiding?

Jake's eyes lit up when he saw you and he rose to greet you. "Feeling any better?"

You nodded, reaching for one more sip of water before you got back in the cab/Uber.

"Your friends are really nice. I haven't eaten there in a long time."

"We try to help each other out," Jake voiced, stealing a glance at you in the rearview mirror. "It can be rough out there."

You made it to the museum, thankful it would open soon. "You sure I can't pay you, or at least give you a good tip?" You asked him as he opened your door and offered you his gloved hand like a prince in a fairy tale.

"Just promise you'll call me if you need a ride. Or...anything. We'll call it even." He fidgeted with his mustache and you chuckled. Not a look you saw every day but he wore it well.

You thanked him again, but he noticed you stealing glances at his mustache.

"My uh...roomates think this thing is the worst. Not a good look?"

"Oh no," you laughed, "it's very dashing."

Jake bowed jokingly. "My lady."

You walked right into the museum wearing his jacket.

The security officer didn't recognize you because he worked weekends and you didn't. Probably a good thing. You could only hope Steven was scheduled today. But at least being inside the museum would give you a safe, comfortable place to think.

After meandering through several exhibits, you checked back at the gift shop, only to find Donna, Steven's boss, berating him for being late. He apologized profusely, professing that he had no idea why he hadn't heard his alarm. Poor thing. He was so sweet and Donna was just the worst.

She finally let him get to work, and as soon as she headed back to her office, you approached him carefully.

"Hi, Steven," you smiled at him, hoping he would have time to help you.

His eyes brightened when he saw you, but quickly narrowed in concern. You must really look like hell. "You alright, love?"

Bouncing on your toes, you shook your head quickly. "Not really. Can we talk?"

Steven knew he would get in trouble for leaving his post, but this was you. If you needed his help, Donna would have to wait.

Sure enough, she barreled back into the gift shop, ready for a lecture, but Steven pressed his hands together and demanded one more minute.

Guiding you by the elbow, he took you to a quiet corner. "Thought you had a long weekend. What brings you in?"

You asked if there might be any way you could talk in private, in one of the employee lounges. "I know you just got here. I can wait."

Chewing on his lip, he glanced between you and the swinging door where Donna lurked in her evil lair.

"Come on."

Once you were totally alone, he hesitantly reached for your face. “May I?” He whispered, gingerly brushing his fingertips over a scrape on your face. Peering down at your bruised wrist, he gently lifted your hand, shaking his head and exhaling sharply through his nose.

"You're hurt." His eyes locked with yours. "Who did this?"

Your face crumpled and you melted into his arms, the stress of the entire, sleepless night catching up to you. You knew this was the place to go, absolutely certain you would feel safe with Steven.

His heart burned protectively. The two of you sometimes ran into one another on your break, mostly out on the museum's front steps or at the vegan restaurant along the street. Occasionally you saw one another on the train home, or even in your building. He knew you had a boyfriend - the dimwitted bloke.

If that asshole hurt you...

"It's alright. You're safe here." He squeezed you comfortingly.

You finally settled, wiping your nose and eyes with Jake's jacket sleeve. Steven's eyes went wide as he studied the jacket carefully, but he shook his head and focused on you.

"Tell me what happened. What can I do?"

The softest brown eyed gaze you'd ever seen coaxed your confession out of you.

"I need your help," you whispered. "I need to get back into our building, but I don't have my key, or any of my stuff." You produced your phone. "And my phone is dead."

"Okay, of course," he nodded sincerely. "What about your boyfriend?"

"No, no, not him. I think he wants to kill me." You started to cry again.

"To k-kill you? Should we go to the police?"

"No, no police. I just need to get into my flat before my boyfriend gets back. If he's not back already."

Steven sighed. "I knew that dimwitted bloke was an asshole, but - kill you?"

"Steven, please can you help me or not?"

"Of course I will. Do you want to go now?"

"I don't want to get you in trouble with Donna. But my boss is her boss' boss...if that helps. I’ll ask him to pull rank.”

You and Steven took the train back to your building. Although you were half tempted to request Jake's Uber, Steven quickly dismissed that notion without sounding rude.

He let you in the building and you found the super, letting him know you "lost" your key. The super seemed willing to let you in, but warned you not to let it happen again.

As you exited the lift, you carefully looked for any sign of your boyfriend.

"What if he's home?" Steven whispered. "How will you know?

"I guess we just have to take that chance."

The super unlocked your door and you tiptoed inside with Steven behind you. The place seemed to be empty, thank god.

Darting to your bedroom, you recovered the packed luggage your jerk boyfriend tossed aside last night. You rushed to your safe to collect some important documents, working as quickly as you could manage. You made it out the door, not caring that you left it unlocked, dragging your luggage and almost making it around the corner when your heart stopped at the sound of your boyfriend shouting, "Hey!"

You and Steven exchanged looks before he grabbed your hand and your luggage. "Quickly! The stairs."

Trusting his lead, you ran, making your way to his flat, several floors up, before your boyfriend could follow, or figure out what floor you ended up on.

Steven ushered you into his flat, bolting the door as the two of you panted erratically from your exertion.

"Thank you," you gasped, reaching for your baggage. Finally getting a good look around, you couldn't believe how different Steven's flat looked from yours. His was on the top floor, in what appeared to be a loft, or converted old attic. The roof was steeply pitched with skylights offering more natural light than just the windows.

More than a dozen bookshelves burst with multicolored, worn paperbacks and gorgeous hardbacks. Ancient Egyptian artifacts, maps and souvenirs littered his cluttered desk and shelves. And in the middle of it all sat a bright aquarium with three plump goldfish.

You felt as if you stepped through a portal into another world. How could this place be in your building?

"Steven, your place is..."

"Bit of a mess, yeah? Sorry. Who's the biggest hoarder around? Me." He blushed, pointing to himself.

"No, it's wonderful. It's so different than my flat. It's like an old library."

He smiled, emboldened by your compliment. "You like to read?"

"Not this much, but yes. I do. I like the skylights." You locked eyes with him. "It's really soothing here." Reaching for his arm, you squeezed gently. "Thank you for helping me."

"Anytime." The crinkles around his warm eyes reminded you of Jake. It occured to you then, that Jake had also reminded you of Steven.

"Cuppa tea?" He asked, nodding toward the kitchen.

"Sure," you shrugged, following him. "I'll help."

The two of you worked quietly for a moment, when you asked him if he had a brother.

He swallowed hard. "I did...long time ago. He passed away."

"Oh shit, I'm so sorry, Steven." God, what an idiot you were. "I just...you reminded me of someone and I just thought, maybe... I'm really sorry."

"'Salright. You didn't know."

The two of you prepped the tea, boiling the kettle before steeping the leaves.

"This is his jacket, actually," you finally continued. "I forgot to give it back to him after he gave me a cab ride. Or...Uber, actually. He uses a vintage cab as his Uber car."

Steven almost dropped the cup and saucer he was holding. "That so?"

"Yeah, he helped me last night. Like I said, I forgot to give him back his jacket. He was kind, and when he smiled...he reminded me of you."

"O-of me?" Steven cleared his throat.

"Yeah." You shrugged. "Anyway, I'm sorry about the brother thing, but I just wondered. He had like this 1980s mustache though."

Steven, who had just brought a sip of tea to his lips spat it right back into his teacup, coughing a few times. "You're not serious. A silly little tache?"

You giggled. "Yes. I told him it was dashing. He wore it well. But he reminded me of you somehow. American lad though. Thick accent."

"Mmm," Steven nodded, cleaning up the mess he'd made. "I'm happy Jake was able to help you."

Your eyes went wide. "I didn't tell you his name."

Steven's mouth dropped open. "Right. I actually know him. Flat cap? Mustache?" He pointed at you. "Leather jacket, cab?"

"Oh," you gasped, smiling. "Don't you think you guys could be related?"

Pressing his lips together, Steven answered diplomatically. "Never really thought about it exactly like that, but...yes, I suppose so."

He paused for a moment before growing more serious. "So what's going on with your boyfriend? Or, ex-boyfriend, I hope."

"Yes, definitely," you assured him, attempting to explain what you'd gone through lately and how you suspected your boyfriend of working for a crime boss of some sort.

"As much as I love this flat, I'm even scared for you to live in this shit hole building with him, Steven. I think he's really dangerous."

As if waiting for his cue, your boyfriend pounded on Steven's front door, demanding, in foul language, to be let in.

"Do not open that," you warned him, but it was too late. His hunched shoulders squared up, chiseled jaw clenching. A deep wrinkle appeared between dark eyebrows as the typical twinkle in his eye went cold.

"Steven, no, don't!" You watched in horror as he yanked open the door, grabbed your boyfriend by the collar and dragged him inside. Kicking the door shut with one foot, he slammed the taller man against the wall, nostrils flaring as his eyes flashed.

Your boyfriend shouted an insulting protest, but with one, precise jab to his throat, he was rendered speechless and left gasping for air.

"Listen to me, asshole," Steven spat, but his voice sounded entirely different. It came out as a growl. And...American.

It couldn't be. Jake? But it didn't sound like him either.

"You're never touching anyone again," he went on, menacingly. “You're never coming back here again. You're moving out. Right now." He pointed to you with one hand. "Lose their number."

Your boyfriend raged, struggling against Steven's powerful, one-handed grip, but he still couldn't speak.

"You think your boss will protect you?" He taunted. "Your boss is a pussy. He's already dead. And you're next." Roughly releasing him, he motioned him out the door condescendingly. "Better run."

With a hopeless glance your way, he was gone.

Steven's head dropped as he waited for your reaction.

You finally whispered his name, inching closer. "Are you American? I don't understand."

Finally meeting your eyes, he answered, "I'm Marc. I'll let Steven explain."

Shoulders hunched and hands drawn to his chest, Steven came back to you, fidgeting uncertainly. "Bit of a long story. Want that tea now?"

Then he explained how you'd spent the entire night with one man, occasionally fielding questions like, "wait, you're the white mummy man?" And, "wait...you're Jake?"

Steven laughed sheepishly. "In a manner of speaking."

"Oh good, I can give you your jacket back. Wait - where's your mustache?"

The thought of Jake wearing a fake mustache was so hilariously endearing to you.

Steven let you take a nap on his couch and use his washroom to freshen up. Later, he ordered takeaway for an early supper. The two of you talked, trying to come up with plan to help you move on with your life.

"I know this is weird to say at a time like this, but...I've always had a little bit of a crush on you."

"On me?" Steven almost choked on his food. "I never knew."

"It's stupid, really. Just ignore me."

"Not at all. But can I ask you a question? Why did you stay with that plonker?"

You shrugged helplessly, shaking your head. "I guess I never knew there was anything better."

Angstember Masterlist || Moon Knight Masterlist || Main Masterlist

[hummingbird-of-light]

Prompt: I Waited For You

(Thirtieth story for Angstember 2024 by @ivystoryweaver)

[Personal Log]

There is a new servant. I was instructed to help him settle in.

I believe that he can be a very good worker once he understands how to follow the rules. But ... maybe he doesn't want to. He is human. He belongs to a species that I've heard is very self-confident and stubborn. I've never seen a human in this estate before.

Maybe he's the one I've been waiting for – the one we've all been waiting for – for so long. Maybe he is the one who will finally free us all from this place.

I have high hopes for 350, maybe because he's so much like 360. I don't know. I don't really understand my feelings.

But one thing is certain. I won't make the same mistake as I did back then. I will play my part and wait.

Wait and hope. That's all I can do.

Maybe fear and sadness will soon finally be conquered by courage and strength. Just maybe ...

Eraiu out.

A/N: And that's a wrap~ Thanks @ivystoryweaver for the great prompts! It's been a pleasure writing all the prompts 🥰

[official-mermaid]

if you want to, rodydeku with "i never forgot you"? ;_;

I do want to!! Here it is, thank you so much!

feel free to send a suggestion for an angstember prompt

[greenfiredragonfly]

Welcome to Mangst 2024: an Angst and Hurt/Comfort prompt list!!

As an angst lover, I'm excited to see what folks come up with! This prompt list is multi-fandom, with dialogue style prompts - one for every day of May!! (It's also a bit of a sequel to my Angstember prompt list from 2021)

If you’re interested in participating and sharing, please use the tag #mangst2024 (I really want to be able to see all of your stuff)!

I also have an ao3 collection set up here!

https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Mangst_2024

The prompt list in plain text can be found under the cut :)

I never wanted this

If you can't trust yourself right now, trust me.

You don't remember, do you?

Don't look, you shouldn't have to see this.

Can't you see that there are people who love you?

You've done so well. Let me take it from here.

You don't act like yourself anymore.

I wish I could go back to when things made sense.

I kept imagining that you'd come back, but you never did.

I can do whatever I want to you, and no one can stop me.

You've only ever been a disappointment.

How could you believe them? Over me?

I know it hurts, I'm here, you're doing so well.

I crossed a line, and I can never go back.

We'll get through this together.

Don't you see? I never had a choice.

I love you. I wish I didn't.

It doesn't matter if they die; all that matters is you.

Please, let me try to fix this.

You shouldn't trust me.

You're all I have left.

Who would ever choose you?

You're nothing to me but a bad memory.

It was all for nothing.

They've been dead from the start.

You're not really here, are you?

I can't believe I thought you loved me.

Everything I've given up is worth nothing to you.

I'm sorry. You're not worth the risk.

When they find out what we've done, they'll kill me.

I can't breathe.

[winniethewife]

I know I'll be alright, But I'm not tonight 

(Commander Cody x F!reader)

Prompt: Remembering

Words: 717

Warnings: Angst, Grief

A/N: For my Event Nine weeks in hell and Angstember

Cody stood in the Negotiator situation room, looking around the empty spaces where his general and friends once stood. What was it all for? Can anything really be solved without bloodshed? He had just returned from his mission on Desix, he felt the sweat drip down his brow as he recalled the moment Crosshair had shot the governor. In all his years of fighting he had never felt shaken like this. He looked around the room again and felt the ever stronger absence of the people he had spent his whole life with. Where was Rex? Where were Fives and Echo? Where were Waxer and Boil? Where was General Kenobi? He knew, He knew they were gone. He felt an awful sinking feeling, the Negotiator was scheduled to be deconstructed and used for new ships in the next few rotations, the last place he had to remember everything he had gone though, every person he had cared about, He sighed deeply as he covered his face with his hand. He wondered what he was supposed to do.

“Cody?” a voice called out from somewhere in the ship, a familiar voice. A flash of memories cross his mind. Late nights doing paperwork together, even later nights drinking at 79’s, early mornings over a cup of caf. He turns to see her. Standing with her imperial officer’s uniform jacket slung over her shoulder and a worried look on her face. “There you are, I’ve been looking for you.”

“Sorry, I…I needed a minute.” Cody rubbed the back of his neck. He tried to seem casual about it but she knew him all too well.

“You’ve been needing a lot of time away lately.” She broached the topic carefully, closing the distance between the two of them. Cody’s shoulders fell in defeat, of course she had noticed. He leans against the Holo-       table in the middle of the room, she quickly followed suit.

“Do you…think we’re doing good things here? Are we making the galaxy better?” He was hoping this time he would get a different answer from her than he got from Crosshair. She let out a defeated sound, her head tilted back so she was looking at the ceiling.

“I don’t know Cody…It’s hard to say. I feel like…I have more questions than I did before, and I feel like the answers I get don’t inspire confidence. I feel like I did more on a daily basis when we were fighting in the war then we do now.” She looks over at him. “But…I really have my doubts.”

“I’m…also having doubts.” Cody said relief coating his words as he tears his gaze from her. “I’m starting to wonder, why this happened. We won the war, but we lost…everything.” He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. She gently put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently.

“He’s not dead Cody. They’re still looking for him.” She said softly. Cody looked up suddenly, He knew exactly who she was talking about. The General.

“How? I thought…they must’ve…really?” Cody felt like a weight came off his shoulders but an overwhelming feeling of guilt flooded his mind. He felt like his brain was short circuiting as he tried to find the words.  “I…I’m glad…I know I’m not supposed…I don’t…How am I supposed to feel?” He looked over at her, in his eyes she could see the conflicting emotions he was feeling.

“I don’t know. But I do know how I feel.” She scoots slightly closer to him “I spend my days looking over these reports, Order 66, the Jedi council, I can’t help but wonder…” Her voice trails off. Cody shook his head in disbelief.

“I can’t stay here, I want to make a difference, I want my choices to matter.” He takes her hand in his and squeezes it. She looks at him, and nods giving his hand a gentle squeeze in return. They both knew the rumors that had been circulating, about Clones going AWOL, about where they go. She doesn’t want to say goodbye. She doesn’t want to lose him too, and neither does he.

“We can’t stay here…” She whispered softly. Cody’s eyes lit up.

“So you’ll come with me?” He asked hopefully.

“I’ll go anywhere with you.” She confirms.

“Then let’s go…Anywhere but here.”

~

Masterlist

Taglist: : @silvernight-m @queerponcho @boredzillenial

[thexsanctuaryx]

{ I'm So Sorry }

Summary: Marc goes to apologize to Emma the day after an intense argument but not before beating himself up about everything that went down and a stern talking to from Steven and Jake. Prompt: "I'm so sorry." from @ivystoryweaver Ivy's Angstember Event Pairing: Original Character { Emma Harper } x Marc Spector mentions of Emma Harper x Steven Grant && Emma Harper x Jake Lockley Contents: angst as fuck, hurt/comfort, happy ending Warnings: heavy self-loathing, arguments, mentions of severe mental illness, swearing, I think that's it? Author's Note: 21 days into the Angstember Event and I'm starting at the beginning with the prompt from Day 1. Yolo. Word Count: 1,565

He’s sure he’s pushed her away for the last time.

One last powerful bout of self-loathing projected onto her and he’s sure that’s it. His thoughts run wild with crippling fear and paralyzing doubt.

She’d tried so hard to calm him and ease all of the pain he was inflicting on himself, but he’d only pushed her harder.

‘Don’t you get it?! This is just who I am! This is just what I do!’ He’d yelled.

‘Marc—that’s not true…’ She replied so softly, reaching for him.

As her fingers had grazed his arm, he’d torn it away. ‘Yes, it is, Emma!’

‘No…’ She’d insisted. ‘You’re just—’

‘Don’t you dare say different…’ He’d cut her off, pointing a finger at her, using their own words against her.

She’d flinched then, ‘I was gonna say ‘upset’…’

‘Just go! Leave! We both know you want to…’

She’d started crying then, and he’d only hated himself even more. She’d been patient up until then, in fact, she’d remained patient even after. She’d grabbed her bag, sniffling quietly and trying to conceal her tears. Her voice had shaken around the words, try as she had to say them clearly. The softest, “I love you…” and then she’d exited through the door.

It haunts him even now realizing that after she’d walked out that door, she’d had to call someone for a ride home at best, or order an Uber to come pick her up on the side of the road at worst.

That’s what he’d done to her—thrown her out in the street on a cold, rainy September night because he couldn’t deal. But it was worse than that. He hadn’t even told her he loved her back because he was so sure he didn’t deserve her love in the first place. He’d accused her of wanting to leave despite countless attempts to soothe him and remind him that she didn’t.

And he’d watched her go. Hadn’t even tried to go after her despite how desperately he’d wanted to.

What was worse – the other two hadn’t been around when he did it, leaving him to explain the next day why she wasn’t there; why he was so hungover.

That was another fight altogether.

‘Marc, if you don’t go right now, and fix this—’ Steven had said firmly, usually the one to be softer with Marc when things got hard.

Marc had looked in the reflection of their mirrored closet door, leaned over the side of the bed.

Jake had stood quietly, stern look across his features, ‘Don’t look at me, hermano—Steven’s right…’

‘You’re damn bloody right I am!’ Steven had released the bridge of his nose he was pinching.

‘She’s not gonna wanna see me guys—I really fucked up this time…’

‘You fucked up?’ Steven had repeated incredulously. ‘And how ‘re we gonna fix this if you don’t go talk t’ her…’

‘Maybe—one of you should—’

‘Oh no—no—I’ll be there for moral support an’ all but you’ve gotta fix this yourself…’

‘He’s right again, Marc—we can’t apologize for you—she doesn’t want to hear it from us—and she deserves to hear it from you…’

After that, he’d taken three ibuprofen, swallowed a whole glass of water, and taken a long, too hot shower. Thankfully, they’d supported him through that too. He felt awful to say the least. If he didn’t feel like throwing up because of the hangover, he felt it because of the nerves.

Images and soundbites from the night before replayed in his head over and over near to the point of madness. Thinking about that only made him feel worse. He could’ve done more damage than he’d previously realized. If she was even put into a situation that was too high stress it could cause her to go over the edge of psychosis.

At the idea, he’d begun to move much faster than he had been, worry suddenly spinning within him. He’d all but sped to her apartment, even if he knew she would only just be getting up. He’d stopped along the way at her favorite coffee shop, picking up breakfast and something to drink for them both. It felt like a cheap, shitty excuse for an apology, not enough after everything he’d put her through.

As he stood about to knock on her apartment door, his hand shook. He took a deep breath in but didn’t get a chance to even make contact with the door as her best friend opened it.

Caroline stood with her arms crossed all but blocking the way in. “Ya know?” She’d started, seeming to get so frustrated she’d forgotten what she’d been about to say. She’d sighed, softening as she glanced over her shoulder toward Emma’s bedroom. “Come in…--she’s awake but it’s gonna be like pulling teeth to get her out of bed…”

Marc had nodded, releasing a heavy sigh, “I’m so—”

“Ah! Don’t you dare apologize to me before you apologize to her…”

He’d nodded again and stepped inside.

“I’m gonna go to Cam’s—give you guys some privacy—” She’d paused, “please don’t make me pick her up on the side of the road at 10PM in the rain, again, Spector—” Her voice had gotten even softer, reaching to give his shoulder an encouraging squeeze. “—okay?”

“Okay…” He almost inaudibly replied.

She’d taken her leave and he’d taken another deep breath. He took off his jacket and shoes and made his way toward her room.

When he’d found her, she was curled up in a ball facing away from the doorway. She’d sniffed quietly, knowing he was there and doing what she could to again, hide any tears she’d shed because of the fight.

He moves now to set the drink tray on her bookshelf opposite the foot of her bed, placing the paper bag beside it. He rounds the corner of the empty side of her bed, his side of the bed.

His eyebrows squeeze tightly together, rising in the center as he sits in front of her. He looks as pained as she feels as her eyes rise slowly and timidly to his.

“Hey baby…” He starts, his voice tremoring as he fights off tears, himself. “I am so sorry…” He finishes in a whisper. He shakes his head slowly, struggling to hold her eyes. “Please don’t leave us…please don’t leave me…”

Almost before he can even finish, she’s sitting up and crawling into his lap, clinging to him.

His arms find their way snugly around her middle, cradling her firmly to him. His fingers sink deeply into her hair, pressing a series of firm kisses to her temple. “I love you so much, baby, I’m so sorry…”

Emma struggles to find her voice no matter how badly she wants to reply in kind. She withdraws just enough to look between his eyes, timidly pressing her lips to his.

His lips only catch hers, pulling strongly at them as he continues to cradle her against himself. He releases a deep sigh against her just before she pulls back. She shyly signs to him that it’s okay and that she loves him too.

Guilt clutches his heart again, when she doesn’t speak verbally. He strokes his fingers through her hair again, combing it back around her ear. “Are you okay?” He asks gently, his eyes slowly scaling her face.

She’s quick to nod, again signing that she is now. She chokes back a soft sob of a laugh, even as a few more tears slip down her face. She presses another grateful kiss to his lips and then points over toward the coffee, asking silently if he’s brought breakfast.

His lips bounce off of hers gently as he gives another long sigh of relief, brushing her tears away carefully. “It’s admittedly not homemade—but I was thinking we could at least have breakfast in bed…”

Her face brightens, shifting out of his lap and shooing him off the bed.

He doesn’t need her to say anything else—verbally or nonverbally—to know she wants him to get more comfortable. Though that doesn’t stop her from teasingly signing for him to ‘play the part.’ At which point he strips off his jeans and t-shirt, before grabbing the tray and the bag and bringing them back to where she sits animatedly waiting.

She pulls the blankets back so he can climb inside and then snuggles right back up to him, leaning in to press a slow kiss to his throat unable to resist inhaling his scent.

His muscles, once tense, begin to relax as her lips brush his skin. He hands her, her coffee and likewise can’t resist the urge to softly insist. “Y’know I really don’t deserve you…”

Emma takes the cup and immediately swats him in the stomach, scowling and wagging a finger in a not-so-formal way of telling him not to go there.

“A compliment—not an accusation, baby…” He defends.

She rolls her eyes and only holds onto him tighter.

‘Thank the bloody gods…’ Steven grumbles in his mind, looking at his wit’s ends in the reflection of her bedroom windows.

“Steven says hi…” He teases, his tone indicating just how much trouble he’s in.

Emma snorts and presses another kiss to the edge of his jaw, before settling again and finally taking a sip from her coffee.

[anonymousdandelion]

Anyone else remember our favorite International Express Man, Lesley, and his wife Maud?

I hereby present 800 words of feels and softness. This was, believe it or not, originally written in late 2021 for one of @greenfiredragonfly's Angstember prompts.

Excerpt:

“Tiger?” Maud’s voice is low in Lesley’s ear. “Hun? Is everything okay?” “Fine, love,” he whispers back, hoping it’s true. A movement of the blankets, and then Maud is sitting up beside him, one hand resting on his, live warmth seeping back in where her fingers meet his knuckles. He rolls so he can see her face in the dimness of the bedroom. If I was to tell my wife what happened to me today, she wouldn’t believe me...

[supergeek21]

It’s Kinktober Time!

Today’s prompt was “medical” so I finally finished up a long postponed sequel to one of my 2021 angstember vignettes. Please enjoy this rather crack-y sexy roleplay!

[radarsteddybear]

How about Go. But I'm Not Leaving? It sounds intriguing 👀

This one is an Angstember prompt from a few years ago (the prompt being the working title of the fic). The idea was that Carter and Newkirk are sent out alone for undefined reasons to blow up a nearby train tracks while the train is passing by. Carter forgets to bring the rope meant to secure the explosives to the tracks, so Newkirk takes it upon himself to hold it there until the very last second, telling Carter to abandon him and get himself to safety (Newkirk actually makes it an order, and Carter doesn't remember that he's the one with the higher rank until he's halfway back to camp XD). I've got a complete draft of this one, but I feel like some of the details (Carter and Newkirk going out on this mission alone, Carter forgetting something as obvious as the rope, Newkirk standing underneath the train tracks to hold the dynamite in place until it goes off) don't quite hold up well enough to post yet. Hopefully someday 🤞

[nephiliminality]

Angstember Prompt 6: Secrets

Yeah, I'm still doing these! This one took a while because it turned into a 17k word multichapter (oops) and also it's my third attempt at the prompt, which I've really struggled with. One of the other attempts might surface as a different prompt fic later, the other is definitely dead (but never mind, I had fun trying to write it).

In this one, Crowley gets a visit from the former Lord Beelzebub, who has been ousted in a coup. Ze wants Crowley's help fixing that, and ze has some useful leverage: ze knows he isn't really immune to Holy Water...

This fic is finished apart from editing and I'll be posting the chapters over the next couple of weeks or so - it'll almost certainly be my last Good Omens fic before S2 lands. It's pretty light and fun considering the subject matter (I'm not sure it really counts as an angst fic), and it does end happily (well, for most of the characters anyway).

Gen fic, T-rated for alcohol and swearing. CW blackmail, authoritarianism, minor character death.

[AO3]

Excerpt

It was a pleasantly mild Tuesday in September, and Crowley was idling along the A40 at an uncharacteristically modest speed. He would rather be going much faster, but he was trying not to disturb the small pile of packages behind him on the back seat: most of them contained delicate, cream-covered pastries, fine wines, or cheeses so pungent the car would disown him if he spilled any. Aziraphale wanted a picnic, and he was going to get a picnic to remember.

At least, hopefully. The light spots of rain flecking the Bentley’s windscreen didn’t bode well. Still, picnic or no picnic, there would still be wine, and there would still be Aziraphale, now Armageddon was off the table and they were finally, completely on their own side.

Crowley overtook an ancient Fiat, because modest speed was one thing but there were limits, and counted his lucky stars that the traffic was tolerable today. Then a flashing in his rear-view mirror caught his attention and his heart sank. Those were definitely the lights of a police car behind him, and they definitely wanted him to stop and have a chat about something. Wonderful.

Crowley muttered a curse last heard in Mesopotamia and pulled over into the next lay-by. It figured. The one time he hadn’t even been speeding. He muttered to himself and hoped that speeding ticket quotas hadn’t been one of his ideas.

Bless it. Normally he would turn the police car’s engine into something amusingly unmentionable and leave them in his dust, but Aziraphale had been very keen on avoiding miracles until they were sure that Heaven and Hell really were going to leave them alone. Crowley couldn't blame him for the caution. They had only reached their agreements after the trials because neither side knew what they were dealing with; if the secret got out they would both be hauled back in and permanently dealt with faster than you could say ‘gotcha’. Crowley hadn’t heard anything from Hell since the trials but they weren’t likely to have calmed down about it all. Still, these cops were taking the piss and very much deserving of some kind of retribution, and he didn’t need to use miracles to put the fear of Crowley into someone.

The police car pulled up behind him and the hazard lights came on; the driver climbed out and strode purposefully towards the Bentley. Crowley tapped his fingertips on the steering wheel, fleshing out an improvised revenge plan he was rather proud of already, and waited for the officer to reach him. Their gait seemed vaguely familiar, but then humans were all pretty similar in that respect. Normal human skeletons only had so much range, after all.

The officer reached the driver’s side door and knocked gently but firmly on the window. Crowley turned to look at them, smug grin already in place… and then his revenge plan evaporated from his mind, leaving only dregs of highly concentrated terror. That was a very familiar face. One could say, quite literally a painfully familiar face. Certainly he expected it to result in imminent and considerable pain.

The window rolled down of its own accord and several fat blue-tinted flies flew in, settling on Crowley's shoulders like very very tiny henchmen. The officer's teeth were bared in the kind of malicious grin that not even airport security guards could comfortably achieve.

“Do you know how faszt you were going, sir?”

Crowley stared back, speechless and motionless. So that was that, then. Hell had broken its word already, had decided they could safely be eliminated after all. He hadn’t dared to hope that they could actually win against their former sides, but he had thought they would get a little longer.

He had been so cocky, so stupid. They hadn’t even left London. Why hadn’t they left London? Avoiding miracles didn’t count for much if you stayed right where they last found you. Why hadn’t he taken them both to the other side of the planet or something?

Crowley tried to compose himself, plastering on a polite smile. Self-recrimination could wait until the more immediate problem of survival had been taken care of. “Lord Beelzebub,” he gulped. “What a surprise.”

Beelzebub glowered at him through the open window, far too close for comfort. “Get out of the car, Crowley. Or I’ll set fire to it.”

Crowley climbed out of his car meekly, since there didn’t seem to be much choice, and briefly considered bowing before thinking better of it. At this point, genuflection would probably be counterproductive. He glanced over at the police car – which was parked with its rear end sticking out into the road just enough to endanger and infuriate other road users – then back to Beelzebub. “How’s Hell?” he mumbled, a pretence at civil conversation. There had to be a way out of this, if he could only buy himself a little time.

“Hellish,” Beelzebub replied. Ze took off zir hat with one thickly-gloved hand, letting out several more flies, picked something unidentifiable off it and smeared it on the roof of the Bentley. Crowley’s indignation made a valiant effort to override his terror, but his terror had a considerable size advantage. He gave his car a discreet reassuring pat and mentally promised to make it up to her later, provided he survived this. Beelzebub put the hat back on firmly. “Though I’m no longer Lord Beelzebub,” ze said. “Thanks to you.”

Crowley’s jaw dropped. His brain went away for a bit to process that news, then came back and slapped him in the face with the second half of the sentence. Beelzebub, no longer in charge of Hell, because of Crowley. “What?” he protested. “How is it my fault?”

Beelzebub fixed him with an unimpressed look. “You defied Hell, survived your well-deserved execution, dictated terms to both sides, and walked out. In front of ten million witnessez. What did you think would happen?”

Well, when ze put it like that. He’d feel proud if he wasn’t so scared. There wasn’t really a safe way of saying ‘I didn’t care and still don’t, you were trying to execute us for Someone’s sake’, so he kept his mouth shut.

“It’z chaos down there now,” Beelzebub continued bitterly. “Lucifer is off sulking somewhere and the troops are revolting. Half the Dark Council was thrown in the Lake. I barely got out with my wingz intact.”

“And you’ve started a new life in the Metropolitan Police?” Crowley said, trying to sound casual while anything but. Ze hadn’t discorporated him on the spot, which could only mean ze had something worse in mind. Like… oh Hell. Like keeping him occupied while one of zir remaining loyal minions went after Aziraphale.

“Worried about your angel?” ze said, as if reading his mind. “You should be. Unless you cooperate, of course.”

Of course, thought Crowley desperately. Anything you want, anything at all, just leave him alone. Please. “Cooperate on what?”

“A little assignment. You’re a twizty little bastard and I have a job for you. Do it well, and perhaps you and your angelic bed warmer get to live.”

Beelzebub pulled a small bottle from zir pocket, an elegant gold-capped crystal phial which gave off a faint ethereal glow, and Crowley realised why ze was wearing such thick leather gloves. He also realised, too late, that he’d flinched. Beelzebub grinned like a crocodile.

“I know you tricked usz, Crowley,” ze said coldly. “I know this stuff will still kill you. I'm the only one who knows. For now.” Beelzebub leaned in and made eye contact with a stare that could bore through a wall. “Help me get my job back, and maybe I won’t tell Hastur.”

[ao3feed-ineffablehusbandz]

Secrets

Secrets

by nephiliminality

Beelzebub pulled a small bottle from zir pocket, an elegant gold-capped crystal phial which gave off a faint ethereal glow, and Crowley realised why ze was wearing such thick leather gloves. He also realised, too late, that he’d flinched. Beelzebub grinned like a crocodile.

“I know you tricked usz, Crowley,” ze said coldly. “I know this stuff will still kill you. I'm the only one who knows. For now.” Beelzebub leaned in and made eye contact with a stare that could bore through a wall. “Help me get my job back, and maybe I won’t tell Hastur.”

For the Angstember 2021 prompt "9/6 – And what happens when I tell someone else?"

Words: 1284, Chapters: 1/8, Language: English

Series: Part 6 of Angstember Prompts (Multifandom)

Fandoms: Good Omens (TV)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen

Characters: Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens), Beelzebub (Good Omens), Michael (Good Omens), Original Characters, Minor Characters

Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Beelzebub & Michael (Good Omens)

Additional Tags: Post-Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens), Post-Season/Series 01, I'm just going to take it as read that it's not compliant with S2, POV Crowley (Good Omens), Hell is Terrible (Good Omens), Ze/Zir Pronouns for Beelzebub (Good Omens), They/Them Pronouns for Michael (Good Omens), Blackmail, Holy Water (Good Omens), Minor Character Death, Canon-typical Alcohol Consumption, Light Angst, Happy Ending, This started out as a prompt fic but I got a bit carried away, No beta we die like beach ball demon, Just a fun little tale of blackmail and rebellion and intrigue and maybe even some shenanigans, Also Beelzebub steals a police car

From https://ift.tt/izyMeDW https://archiveofourown.org/works/48358465

[ivystoryweaver]

Day 24: Danger (Poe Dameron)

Angstember Prompt Post || Word Count: 750

Notes: This is the prompt for day 24 but it's day 26. Still wanted to finish it tho. Fear, mentions of death and dying, hurt/comfort-ish. Poe is afraid he's lost you.

Terror stabbed his thundering heart as dread mounted with every step. The First Order attacked and Commander Poe Dameron raced into action, frantically calling for you over comms.

Fingers trembled as he pulled and yanked his flight suit into place, running full speed as he ordered his droid not to wait for him.

He rounded the corner to the hangar when blistering heat surrounded him as a powerful, concussive force knocked him back.

Although disoriented and partially deafened, Poe struggled to clamber to his feet, but fresh terror reared up within him, choking him as Finn rushed to his side.

Despite his best friend's inquiries, every thought, every emotion - the fear, the war, the whole galaxy narrowed like a laser down to one, most important thing.

You.

"She's in there," Poe croaked, eyes wild and frightened as the realization took hold, weakening every limb.

His bones seemed to liquify as the blast doors closed, sealing you and all your commrades in an inevitable fiery death.

"No," he choked out, crawling forward with his arms, even as Finn tried to pull him back.

Blood frozen in his veins, Poe stretched out his hand, trying to explain. "She's in there. She's trapped in there!"

"It's too late!" Finn jerked him up by his flight vest. "I'm sorry. Come on, it's not safe here."

The fear and the heat and the force of the blast throbbed inside him, suffocating him. He was stricken and lifeless, unable to force his insolent body to respond appropriately to the danger surrounding him.

"Please...she's in there..." He rasped out before everything went black.

Poe floated in an endless dark sky full of stars. Debris drifted all around him and war raged in the distance.

He thought fleetingly, that he must be dead. Either that, or he was blasted out of his X-wing and was now dying in the sky - the death of a warrior. Probably the death he deserved, even craved. A life given in the service of freedom. Like all the rebels and Resistance fighters before him.

Like you.

His gut clenched with anguish at the thought of this war extinguishing your light from the universe. Then a sliver of hope danced through his heart at the thought of somehow seeing you again.

As if he wished himself into your presence, his ears, no longer ringing with the deafening blast's effects, picked up on the sound of your sweet voice.

Calling his name.

'Where are you?' Words he felt deep and limitless in his very soul, as if the most raw, real part of him stretched out to find you, even here.

"Poe."

He felt you then, soft hand on his cheek, leaning so close he could feel your breath ghost his lips.

"I saw your eyes open. I know you can hear me."

Wherever you were, that's where he needed to be. The night sky illuminated itself and dissolved somehow, into a blinding overhead light.

"There you are. Poe? Come back to me, baby, please."

Nothing had ever sounded so compelling, so enchanting. Struggling to open his eyes fully, he clawed his way out of darkened space and into the brightness of your countenance.

"Hey," you tearfully whispered, raking your fingers through his curls as one tear dropped onto his cheek.

"Found you," he murmured, throat parched with thirst.

"Yeah, that's right, you found me," you tenderly encouraged. "Thought I lost you for a bit."

His eyes fluttered closed again, but peacefully, rather than distressed. "At least we're together."

"Of course we're together." You frowned, confused. "Hey, stay with me. Don't go. Don't you dare leave me!"

Forcing his eyes open, he lazily smiled. "You look good."

Gasping out a laugh, you struggled to understand. "I look what? You're crazy."

His eyes darted around him as he eased into full consciousness. "Where are we?"

"Med bay. You almost got incinerated. The blast in the hangar knocked you into a wall. You've got a nasty concussion." Sniffling, you granted him a weak smile. "But you'll live."

Realization seeped into the contours of his handsome face, making his lip tremble and his eyes leak with fresh tears. "You're here? I thought you were - "

"I know, Finn told me," you softly reassured him. "I wasn't in my ship. Not yet."

"You're here," he gasped, relief surging though his frayed nerves and battered body. "You're here."

Gingerly climbing into bed beside him, you pressed your cheek over his beating heart. "That's right. We're here. We're okay."

Angstember Masterlist || Poe Masterlist || Main Masterlist

[hummingbird-of-light]

Prompt: Wait, I Didn't Mean To

(Twenty-eighth story for Angstember 2024 by @ivystoryweaver)

[Personal Log]

This is it. I know I'm gonna die soon enough. Today I made the most awful mistake in ... in ... in my whole damn life!

I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!

If only I had been more careful! If only I hadn't given in to my feelings!

We were taking a walk outside a-and suddenly ... I kissed him. I kissed 360. A-a-and they killed him! The master saw us. He saw what we did – what I did!

I didn't mean for it to happen! I didn't mean for 360 to get killed because of my stupid behavior!

The master killed him right on spot, said that 360 should have been smarter than to break the rules! But it wasn't his fault! It was mine!

I ... the master sent me away and told me to go into my room. I know that he will kill me too. I know that I will be punished for what happened and –

No. No, no, no. I hear steps. He's coming! He's gonna kill me.

I'm so sorry. I'm sorry, mum and dad. I'm sorry for what I did. And I'm sorry that I won't be able to come back home.

I will –

...

...

...

I ... I can't believe it. I'm still here. I'm still alive.

The m-m-master thinks that it was 360 who kissed me. He apologized to me. He said that none of this should have happened.

I know. I know that I should have told him the truth, but ... but I was too scared of what he would do to me.

This is the only way I can survive. By hiding the truth, I can protect myself from the master's wrath.

I feel guilty. I feel horrible. But ... but I want to live. I want to have the chance to get back home somehow.

I can only hope that this won't be a mistake.

Eraiu out.

[official-mermaid]

i've really enjoyed ur bnha fics so i thought i'd send a prompt.. day 11 'i never knew' for a bnha rship ? feel free to ignore as well!! hope u are having the best one

thanks so much for the suggestion!! here it is, with the slightly out of left field ship of kirikami!

feel free to send a suggestion for an angstember prompt

[greenfiredragonfly]

SHOULD I create another angst prompt list for this May? I have so many prompts that I've come up with already, so.... Would anyone be interested in a sequel to Angstember? ..Mayngst..? (Does that work as a name 🤔🤔)

[winniethewife]

If you'd have stuck around

(Nathan Bateman x GN!reader)

Prompt: I waited for you

Words: 709

Warnings: Angst, No happy ending,

A/N: For my Event Nine weeks in hell and Angstember

They had waited, nearly a month to hear from him again. Nathan Bateman was not an easy man to get a hold of, even for his supposed girlfriend.  In such a short period they had gone from meeting him through a networking event, to visiting his remote strange home on the weekends, to not hearing from him. At first they was worried about him, not hearing from him for days at a time. Then they started to question what they had done wrong, trying to figure out why he wouldn’t talk to them. But at some point they stopped trying, their daily good morning and good night texts started to dwindle, and eventually their random “I miss you” and “I saw this and thought of you” texts were not around as frequent.  Finally they just snapped. They stopped caring if he would get back to them, if he couldn’t find time for them, they wouldn’t make time for him.

So when he showed up at their front door with a box of chocolates and a bunch of flowers, they felt entirely numb.

“Hey Angel face. I missed you.” He gave them a big grin. They gave him a deadpan glare that chilled him to the core.

“Nathan.” They said coldly. His smile faltered. 

“What no ‘Hey baby’ No ‘My Darling’?” he asked with a laugh. They rolled their eyes and walked inside, there wasn’t a point in trying to toss him out, he would just follow them in anyway.

“No I usually reserve pet names for people who talk to me on a regular basis.”  Their voice filled with venom.

“Whoa, what’s with the cold reaction, have a bad day?” Nathan said, as if clueless to how he had wronged them.

“Are you fucking joking Nathan? It’s been two months since I last saw you, and a month since we last talked.” They turned and looked at him, he swore he had never seen them so mad.

“Well I got busy, you know how it can be angel.” He cooed taking a step closer to them. They held up their hand.

“Don’t call me that. Don’t fucking pretend this is fine, that this is normal? I waited Nathan, I waited for you to return my calls, to text me back. And there was nothing. No word, no nothing. What was I supposed to think? That you died? That you started to rot in that isolated hellhole you call a home? And you have the audacity to show up thinking that flowers and chocolate can fix that?” as they spoke their volume increased, they was beyond mad, they was beyond furious, they was livid. Nathan looked at them shocked.

“I…I’m sorry…Babe I had…I just.” He stuttered, he wasn’t sure what to say.

“No, you don’t get to be sorry, you don’t get to apologize and find Narcissistic satisfaction in this shit. You just need to live with the fact that you just lost the one person who cared, the one person who gave a damn about you beyond the money, beyond Bluebook, beyond your stupid IQ points. You lost me and there is nothing  you can do to-”

Beeep! Beep! Beep! Beeep! Beep! Beep! Beeep!

They opened their eyes, it was all a dream. They rolled over to swipe the alarm off. They felt the familiar feeling of wet tears they had cried in their sleep. They sat up in bed and checked their messages. Still nothing from Nathan. Just the last messages they had sent. Looking back at them tauntingly 

Sent: I wish I knew if we talked for the last time. I would have told you I love you more. I don't think I got to say it enough Sent: I would have stayed up later that last night, to talk to you Sent: I wanna work on more of our project, but it feels weird without you. Sent: I want to hear your voice again. Sent: I wanna watch movies with you Sent: I really fuckin miss you. Sent: Please come back soon

They sighed and typed out a message.

Sent: I waited for you

The BlueBook account you have contacted is not in service, or temporarily disconnected.

He was gone.

And they were left with nothing, but a dead number, and a broken heart.

~

Masterlist

Taglist: : @silvernight-m @queerponcho @boredzillenial