#but. five times. tears down my face sobbing Five Times. nothing has EVER made me cry this much before. this is literally insane.

[orcelito]

my heart fucking dropped here. Vash compartmentalizing like crazy, and then the reveal of him having used nearly half of his remaining life power...

using his literal life force to give himself time to bury wolfwood and recover...

for His Sake... eat and regain strength for Him...

aaaaand i started crying here for the Fifth Time at the callback to when vash and wolfwood fought over the sausage while eating spaghetti

aaahahaahahaha

and that's the end of volume 10! ahah ha ha h ha

Ha.

[szasfuckingwife]

WHEN I LOOK IN YOUR EYES, I FEEL ALIVE

EX CONVICT!TOJI X MOM!READER

WARNINGS: angst, fluff, Toji has gone to prison, Toji fushiguro is a family man and wants his family back !!

SYNOPSIS: Toji being incarcerated fucked you and your daughter up badly, and when he’s released, you want nothing more than to hold him again.

A/N: i was listening to Blue by Beyoncé while writing this and she made that song for her daughter and I just felt the need to sob for some reason🥲 but yeah prisonbf! Toji missing his gf and kid fucks me up.

When Toji went to prison, you knew it was the end of your relationship. You warned him so many times that this would happened, even before you gave birth to your daughter. And, knowing Toji, there was no convincing him.

The court trial was the worst memory that comes to mind when talking about Toji. When the judge declared he was guilty, it wasn’t a shock to anyone, even Toji.

But it didn’t help that you were there, holding your two year old as police men took him away. Not once, during the whole ordeal, did Toji look back at you two, deciding it was too much to see his girlfriend and daughter who he loved so much get taken away from him. He’d probably break down right there if he looked back.

You cried so much that day, especially when getting told that he’d be facing five years. Even when your lawyer ensured that Toji would face a lot less if he behaves well in prison, it all went in one ear and out the other.

It had been a difficult two years, he’s missed out on so much. Such as, his daughter’s third and fourth birthday, you having a new job and the fact that you and that guys relationship was more serious than he thought.

He remembers when you told him about it. It was bittersweet due to the fact that you brought your daughter so Toji could see her. “Daddy!” She exclaimed, excited to see her dad even though it’s behind a poorly cleaned window. She was too excited to even speak through the telephone.

But Toji already knew. Toji knew his daughter loved him. He talked to her about school and smiled as his four year old talked about whatever she’d been doing for the past week. Except, she mentioned that her, mommy and ‘that man’ went to the park.

When his daughter said that, Toji looked at you only to see you looking away, embarrassingly. Despite his annoyance, the raven haired man kept smiling at your daughter, even more attentive than he was before.

You took the phone once your daughter was finished, “He’s just a friend from work.”

“Why don’t I know about this guy?” Toji asked whilst keeping his hand pressed up against the glass so his daughter could press her hand up too.

“Because it’s not that serious to be talking about.” You sigh. And you were right, it was a couple of dates and drinks but he didn’t make you feel things that Toji had made you feel. “Don’t do this, Toji, not here. Not in front of her.” Your daughter looks up at you, her hand still separated from her fathers due to the glass.

He scoffed, “Does he sleep over? You fuckin him now, is that it? In my bed, huh?”

You stayed silent, not wanting your daughter to hear you lash out. Toji grew even more annoyed at that, “You know that’s gonna upset her, right? She’s gonna think you’re replacing her dad. That shit isn’t fair, Y/N. You know I’m gonna be released soon.”

“And that’s supposed to make me roll out the red carpet for you? And forget that this shit ever happened?” You scoff. Toji opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again choosing to let you talk. “I’ve missed you so much. She misses you so much. Do you know how hard it has been to raise a child on my own? And for you to give me shit if I wanted to move on? Fuck you, Toji.”

His questions not only angered you, but upset you. You had every right to allow yourself to move on after him being locked up for two years. The fact that he’d even attempt to make you feel bad about that was absurd.

Toji watched silently as you held back tears, put the telephone in its holder and walked away with your daughter.

That was the last conversation he had with you for a year. Toji would’ve slapped his past self for even talking to you like that because he misses you now more than ever.

There were so many times where he’s called you, longing to hear your sweet voice. Even if it’s you saying that he’s a dick and you never wanted to hear from him again.

But that wish was never granted.

‘Hey, it’s me again. It’s nearly peanuts fourth birthday..’ He smiles remembering the nickname you gave your daughter. ‘I was just wondering if maybe you could come around? Or maybe give me a call, just so I can wish her a happy birthday. I miss you more and more each day. Both of you. I love you.’

The voicemail meant nothing to you. It should’ve meant nothing to you. But hearing him say your daughter’s nickname sent tears down your face.

He truly misses his little family.

You can only imagine his excitement when he was released. He called an uber straight to your home, his home. He had nothing but a bag of his possessions and $20 but once he’d see you again, he’d be more than satisfied.

It was a Saturday morning. You cooked your daughter some scrambled eggs for breakfast, reminding you of her dad who ate eggs almost everyday. Toji was set to be released any time now, and that loomed over your head like a plague.

Suddenly, you hear three loud knocks coming from your door. It startled you, and your daughter who nearly dropped her orange juice. It was probably one of your friends who forgot their bag here, you thought.

But once you opened the door, you were met with an unwanted surprise.

Toji stood, smiling down at you, dressed in a casual hoodie and joggers. He was definitely more buff due to all the muscle gain he earned through prison. It was strange seeing him again. Not behind a glass but in front of you. Not in his orange jumpsuit but in normal clothes.

You wanted to touch him, see if he was real.

“Hey..” He said. Oh, how badly he wanted to kiss you right then and there. Seeing you again after a year was the best thing that has ever happened to him.

When your daughter saw him, stood at the door, her mouth fell open. “You remember me, sweetheart?” Toji crouched down to her height with open arms as she ran towards him.

He almost cried as his little girl sobbed into his shoulder, she wasn’t as little as she was when he last saw her. He realised how much time has passed. And how much he’s missed the both of you.

“Daddy, don’t l-leave again…”, the four year old croaked out, her nose stuffy and eyes watery. Toji rubbed her back, encouraging her to let her feelings out.

Toji almost jumped when he felt an extra pair of hands join in the hug. However, when he looked up and saw you, he was reminded that everything he ever did and everything he’d ever do would be for the two of you. He pulled you into the hug and held you both, kissing both of your foreheads.

All resentment you felt towards him went away the second you saw him. The three of you caught up, well, it was more of you and your daughter catching him up. The most Toji could do was mention all the times he’s intimidated people at prison, even those serving longer sentences than him. However, Toji was still glad to know you ended things with that guy you were with.

He helped you cook dinner, not forgetting to kiss your cheek every step of the way. The meal truly being made with love. He missed the domesticity of his life. Even when he was going through all his trial stuff, he remembers you, his baby daughter and him all cozied up on the couch, eating spaghetti or something.

And now he had that opportunity again. He enjoyed seeing you remind your daughter to not play with her food and how she asked for ice cream once she was done.

Once the day was over, Toji sat on his bed, his back still not truly recovered from sleeping in a dingy prison bed. It also helped that you were there. You removed his clothes, peppering him with kisses as you did so. He snuggled up to your warm body and just listened to your steady breathing.

“I fucking love you.” He whispers and you hum in response. He knows you and how it’ll take some time before you can utter those words again. If it takes him the rest of his life to make things up to you, he’ll do that.

But that’s fine. As long as he’s with you.

[igotanidea]

The five year old syndrome: Damian Wayne x reader.

Summary/request: f!reader having separation anxiety due to Damian's vigilante lifestyle. And him calming her down and trying to make up for the time lost, when he was gone patrolling.

***

It was normal behaviour.

Her boyfriend was a vigilante, fighting villains every night, more often than not putting himself in harm’s way and ending up hurt (not that he ever wanted to admit it).

So it was pretty obvious that  she was worried, right?

The fact that she kept on asking him in which area he was patrolling on respective night or where was he going and at what time he was planning to come back was simply a sign of her love and concern for him

Right?

Right????

And even when Damian, being Damian, tried to brush off her concerns, avoiding straightforward answers due to the safety precautions, she was pushing and pushing trying to get as little as a scrap of information from him.

Making him a little concerned and heavily annoyed.

But holding back his irritation for her sake.

“Really Y/N, there’s no need to panic like that.” He muttered, when seconds before his departure on nightly watch she dived into his arms holding him as tight as she could. “I am not a beginner in the area.” His hands were hanging by his side, a little awkwardly for a longer moment before he finally figured it would be better to hug her back in some form of comfort. “In fact, I believe I’m the best fighter in the entire family and –”

“Just please come back to me safe, ok?” she whispered against his chest, hiding face in the material of his jacket. He insisted on never leaving their shared apartment in Robin suit, and she was using that opportunity to inhale his smell that has nothing to do with his persona. “Promise me that.” Her voice turned almost begging, her grip on him tightening in desperation to keep him with her.

“Y/N. My beloved.” Damian gently unclenched her fists from his clothes “I’ll always come back to you. As before. But you really have to let me go now.”

“But –” she squeezed his hands instead, this time almost painfully as he was not expecting it

“Tsk. No buts, beloved. I will be back. And then maybe we can talk about why you suddenly became so alerted about me leaving?”

“Yeah—I mean okay…” the sigh that escaped her lips was an expression of surrender. Not willingly, but she knew there was no use arguing with Damian and his rationality.

After all, she was the overreacting one, becoming needy and putting his patience to the test. And about a situation that has happened dozens of times before.

But in her own head it was just because she was so in love with him and that was how lovers acted.

***

 It was not normal behaviour.

In the short span of two weeks, her concerns and need for information about Damian’s whereabouts when he was patrolling evolved into something way more serious.

It was like every time he was about to leave, not even raising from the couch yet, she was starting to sob uncontrollably, shaking and getting into a panic attack.

“Don’t go—”

“Y/N--”

“Please! Please, don’t go tonight.”

“I have to-“ as much as he was bothered with her emotional display, there was also a tiny glimpse of guilt for putting his duties above his love.

“Damian!” she started crying like a five year old, tears running down her cheeks like a waterfall.

Too bad he was already half into a Robin mode.

“Y/N, stop crying.” The voice he used was probably a little too stern, given the fact that he was dealing with his distressed girlfriend and not a criminal.

“I’m sorry-“ she angrily wiped the tears, holding them back with the whole willpower she possessed.

“Look at me, love. Nothing wrong will happen, okay? I’m skilled and swift and capable and-“

“Humble.” She chuckled, slowly letting his words get to her and suppress the fear and anxiety.

“No. Not humble at all. I have every right to brag and I will do it. And when there’s a woman listening to it, it only gets better.” He smirked

“You’re impossible.”

“Made you calm down though.” Damian shrugged casually “But jokes aside, I promise I will be back in one piece. And the blood on the suit will not belong to me-“

“DAMIAN!”

That was not helpful at all.

***    

It might have been anxiety. Or fear. Or million other reasons for why it was irregular, though neither of them were psychologists to figure it out.

And clearly, talking did not help at all.

In case of any other person, it would probably rub off on one’s behaviour but Damian Wayne was known to keep his feelings inside, showing the casual and indifferent side to the world.

Good thing there were some certain people that in time learnt to read right through him. And those certain people had no respect for time or place to bring out heavy topics, starting them out of nowhere while perched on the rooftop, observing a group of masked robbers, waiting to strike”

“So, what’s been up with you lately?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about Grayson. We shall focus on the object and not chit-chat about our problems.”

“Which you just admit you have.” Dick grinned playfully, daring to ruffle his younger brother's hair, earning an angry huff in response.

“I never said that.”

“Come on, Robin. I can read all over your face.” Dick continued steadfastly, not bothered by the fact that Damian finally turned his head to look at him.

“I am literally wearing a mask covering half of my face. It’s rather hard to read through it.”

“Is it about Y/N?”

Just the use of her name made Damian shake a little. Normal civilians would probably never notice that, but being raised in a vigilante family had its disadvantages. One of them being everyone being overly perceptive.

“You are not bringing her now. No one shall know her name, let alone anything else.”

“Okay, okay,  understood” Dick raised his hands in surrender “let’s give her an alias. How about a sparrow?”

“You lost your mind, Nightwing.”

“Long time ago. Now that we settled that, why don’t you confide your problems with me?”

Damian sighed in annoyance. There were only two ways this could go.

1.  He would refuse to answer and Dick would be up his ass the entire night, trying to gather information.

2.  He will provide information on his own terms and maybe won’t have to deal with Dick’s stubbornness, hidden behind chattiness.

Option two seemed like a better choice, so clenching jaw and fists Damian uttered something about sparrow being overly sensitive about him leaving on patrol.

And that was how young Wayne learnt about separation anxiety.

But if Dick expected gratitude for unveiling the mystery of Y/N’s sensitivity and weepiness he got heavily disappointed as Damian only seemed infuriated even more.

He wished he didn’t know, cause then he could pretend nothing was happening.

***

But he could not pretend and it was not because of Dick’s revelation.

It was because knowing the trouble she was going through was breaking his heart, regardless of the medically correct term for the disorder.

It was 5 am when he came back.

And she wasn’t in bed.

And not in the living room.

And not in the bathroom.

“Y/n?!”

“I’m here.”

“What are you doing in the kitchen, beloved? You are supposed to—” the other half of the sentence died on his lips as he took in the surroundings.  “Y/n…?”

Her hair was a mess, eyes reddened and wet, nose swollen from the obvious crying.

“Oh Y/N…” he took a few steps forward before she lunged to stop him.  “OUCH! The hell--?!” Damian was definitely not expecting to end up with a shrapnel in his bare feet.

“I – I had to put my mind into something and – and- I was cleaning but—”

“It’s okay-“ he hissed, pulling out the glass.

“I broke my favourite mug and I –“

“You don’t need to explain it to me.”

“I took it a sign that something might have happened to you and –“

“Y/N.”

“- and it made me freak out even more and –“

“Y/N!”

“I’m sorry!” she squealed, dropping down the packet of band aids and bandages she managed to gather in a poor attempt to help him.’

“I don’t care about the bleeding!” he grabbed the supplies and put them on the nearby table, instead reaching out his hands to her. A display of affection that only happened in the most vulnerable situations.

Just like now.

“I don’t know what’s happening.” She sobbed, diving into his warmth “I’ve never been this giddy. I’ve never freaked out like that before. And now it’s just seems like my mind is working against me—”

“Sh. It’s okay-“ the gentle caresses on her back were supposed to help her calm down “I’m here. I’m here with you. And I didn’t even make anyone bleed tonight. Todd though-“

“Am I going crazy?” she cut him off, looking up into his eyes with the most vulnerable gaze ever, tugging at his heartstrings.

“No. No love, you are not going crazy.”

“Then what—?”

“I believe you have separation anxiety.”

“Sep- what? The thing when kids start crying because their parents dropped them off at school?”

“Yes.”

“But I’m an adult!”

“Yes.”

“So how can it possibly—?”

“Hush.” Damian kissed her forehead, pulling her closer “do not worry about it now. We’ll figure it out at the right time.”

“But-“

“I need you to trust me on that. Can you?” his piercing green eyes focused on hers, almost staring right into her shattered soul. “Can you?” he repeated.

“Yes….”

“Good. Now, let me just help you ease up. We’ve got some time to make up for. And I intend to make every minute count.”

“Damian…?”

“Hush. No words now, beloved. Appreciate the cuddles and soft time with me while you can.” He muttered, leading her to the couch, settling down on it, refusing to let her speak for the rest of the night, silencing her every time she dared to make even one word.

If anything, with the fact he took her problem so seriously, she was going to develop unification anxiety.

[makethemhoesmad]

liability(pt. 3)

pt 1. pt 2

only a couple months late, but here it is!!

i’m thinking there will be one more part, hopefully coming sooner

thanks to @imaginespazzi, @azzibuckets, @patscorner, and @barbspeaks for dealing with my copious amounts of yap

—

“it’s for the better,” paige says, for the third time. the first two times, she’d whispered it to herself, trying to make herself believe that it was true. now, she said it to nika, who had witnessed azzi’s erratic flight to and from paige’s place, and wanted to know what had happened.

“thats what she said? verbatim?” nika questions. that’s not the azzi she knows. the azzi she knows is the one that would fight, tooth and nail, to keep her and paige together. that, even if they were separated for years, decades, lifetimes, she would be determined to find her way back.

“yes, nika i told you it was crazy. i announce that im staying another year to play with the people i love and.. oh.” paige breathes out the last word, tucking her head into her hands as she realizes something.

“what, paige? why’d you say oh?” nika inquires.

“she thinks i should have left,” paige murmures, standing up. she begins to pace the room, speaking quickly to what seemed to be only herself, forgetting nika was even there.

“she must think that i’m wasting my career by staying here, she must think that it’s her fault and that she’s the one ‘ruining my career’ in her mind. typical azzi. she’s on a spiral right now, she’ll come down, probably. probably.” the last statement seems to bring paige back to reality, and tears start to well up in her eyes. she looks to nika, sniffling and asking, “how am i supposed to make her see that she’s not, and never will be a liability.

~

in another room on the same campus, yet somehow seeming miles away, azzi is alone in her room, curled up under her blanket that still smells like paige, in paige’s hoodie and paige’s sweatpants. she’s giving herself only tonight to grieve for what she killed, and then she’s going to try and move on. that’s what she keeps telling herself, to justify the way she’s sobbed on and off all night. she’s about to start another round when she hears a loud knocking on her door. grudgingly, she sits up and trudges out of her room, opening up the door.

“paige, what are you doing here?” azzi gasps, even though she knows full well why exactly paige has just knocked on her door a mere five hours after their breakup. 

“az, we’re still teammates. we have practice in two hours i don’t want you to ever think that you’re holding me back. i’m doing this because i love you, but also because im doing this for me.” paige says, her eyes glistening. azzi wants to take her back, right there. but she shouldn’t, she can’t. so instead, she says something she’s sure to regret.

“you know, paige, if you had just stayed healthy, this wouldn’t have been a problem.”

paige recoiled at azzi’s words, shocked at the harshness in her voice and the statements she made. in a moment of what she will eventually remember to be nothing but complete stupidity, she fires back.

“damn, i mean, if you hadn’t insisted on continuing to play after you fucked up your knee, you might’ve been able to figure it out instead of hurting it worse.”

“don’t do that, paige.” azzi says, her face going scarlet. “you do this when you get mad, hurt people’s feelings and don’t mean it.”

“i could say the same about you, azzi. we’ve played almost zero games together, and that’s the reason i wanted you here in the first place. it’s almost like i want to play basketball with my girlfriend, you know?” 

“ex girlfriend,” azzi corrects quickly. she slams her teeth together, trying to trap the words back into her throat. why did she need to correct her so quickly?

“so that’s what we’re playing at, then? we’re playing pretend? we’re gonna sit here and we’re gonna act like we haven’t lived in each other’s skins for five years? our families are best friends, azzi. we can’t lose all that because you got insecure”

and azzi doesn’t know how to answer that. she doesn’t have a rebuttal, doesn’t have a defense or a witness. it’s just her, her thoughts, and her now seemingly unexplainable reasoning to break up with paige. right now, really all she wants to do is fall into paige’s arms and cry until she feels better, because paige always makes it better. something tells her that paige might not want to hold her, right now, though. so instead, she takes a deep breath, firmly points towards her door, and demands, “out.”

ironically, if azzi had in fact just thrust herself it paige’s arms, they’d probably be reunited right now. but instead, paige is standing outside azzis apartment door, debating whether to speed home and put on her gym clothes and wait for azzi to leave for practice outside her door, or corner her after practice. corner her, paige thought, speed walking to her car and grinning.

[vasyandii]

I'm kicking my feet I love your oc Vernon! Let me pry though: have Vernon and AM ever kissed, or will they ever kiss? Also does AM enjoy the sensation of Vernon close to him or when she touches him, like in your art of her using him as an AC LOL

AAAAH Howdy howdy!! I'm so glad you like Vernon as I've worked real hard on her! Thank you so much for the ask! 💞💞 I will be answering these in reverse order!

VernonAM 🏺🖥️

Does AM enjoy the sensation of Vernon close to him/when she touches him?

I like to believe AM's come a long way with being touched. When he first transferred his consciousness over to his body, it was sensory overload. The WORST kind.

Everything was too loud, too quiet, he could smell EVERYTHING, everything was too hot, too cold, not hot enough, his mouth felt dry even with the saliva he had, how much it hurt feeling the air in his lungs, HE COULD FEEL HIS EYEBALLS IN HIS SKULL. It was like being born, it was awful. Like Nietzsche said; "To live is to suffer."

Vernon sat him down, trying to calm him since this is technically the first "human" she's seen after 109 years.

AM could feel every fold of his clothing rubbing against his skin, every microscopic fibre stabbing his skin. The residual warmth from Vernon touching him to sit him down so he wouldn't collapse caused AM to start screaming, sobbing.

Because he had no mouth (roll credits) prior to this, he didn't know how to use it to form words. He couldn't articulate what was wrong in his fit of screaming and tears.

And so his body went limp not 10 minutes after. He got out of there, telling Vernon that it's the closest thing he could compare to the torture he put on the other five. Vernon had to convince him to come back again or she'd tear the damn body apart and eat it.

It took months, baby steps of getting him adjusted in being a man. They spent weeks on smell, touch, and heat before they would even consider movement. It was tough on Vernon's end, smart as she is, she's a terrible teacher, asking AM to leave her alone for a few hours or days, lashing out when he's in such a vulnerable state.

But Vernon persisted, and finally AM got to hold her comfortably. Fast forward to now, AM has grown quite fond of the sensation of touch and touching things just for the sake of it. They could be sitting and he'd have it so their shoulders are touching.

AM is fond of Vernon's touch, that's the only time she's gentle (despite her words) with anything that might have the possibility of breaking. He enjoys her softness and warmth; How protective she is of him. AM can't articulate genuine care since his hatred for humanity is still there, but he's grateful, even despite his taunts.

Have AM and Vernon ever kissed? Will they ever kiss?

They kiss often, those two degenerates. It almost makes me jealous how often they kiss (D1 hater over here).

Vernon's technically kissed him before, just to get him comfortable, but it's never on the lips or near his face, usually his wrists and knuckles. Exposure therapy along with affection, basically. He didn't try to kiss her back until he was fully prepared to.

After fully adjusting to his new body, AM was finally able to kiss Vernon. He wasn't very good at it his first attempt. It was more similar to AM headbutting Vernon than an actual kiss.

Having a body gave way to a new emotion; embarrassment. Since he's now technically on the same level as her (in height as well, he's a lil dude) he was embarrassed that his first attempt didn't go as planned. When he didn't have a body, there was nothing to be judged, but now he does.

After brushing it off as him being curious and just feeling like headbutting her, AM didn't attempt to kiss her on the lips until he was sure he was ready.

Their proper first kiss was quite nice.

If you made it this far, thank you for reading my mad man words! I tend to ramble a ton, so if there's anything you'd like for me to clarify, feel free to tell me!

[haizficz]

Drown in your worries.

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

Kate Bishop x female reader

Summary: Kate comes back home from a mission badly injured. But more injured than your feelings?

Warnings: mentions of blood; [anxiety?]

a/n: don't mind me here, just saying that this is my first ever written fanfiction here on tumblr so don't be rude lol. Thanks for reading :)

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

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

Here you are again, sitting on the bed, waiting for your little archer to arrive back home. Afraid if your girlfriend is hurt or if her heart is even still beating.

You are relieved every time the door opens and you get to see your favorite person. Even if she has a few scratches from time to time.

Not seeing her for hours, days or even weeks breaks your heart every single moment. Saying goodbye before she leaves, giving each other a kiss, not knowing if it was the last kiss forever breaks your heart even more.

Right now you are cuddled into Kates blanket staring at the clock. It's almost 10 p.m. and dark outside. You ordered pizza as a little surprise, which you placed into the oven so that it stays warm, and put in your and Kates favorite series.

You are so in love with these kind of nights. Kuddling with your favorite person, eating your favorite food and watching your favorite show. Nothing can go wrong with this, right?

Moments later you finally heared someone knocking on the door. You jumped out of the bed, walked to the front door and opened it with a bright smile on your face that immediately faded.

Kate had lots of cuts and bruises on her face, more sores than the last few times when she came back home.

"Kate?"

She dropped her increasingly heavy bow from her bloody hand and took a step closer to you.

You met her hazel eyes filled with fear and pain. Her lashes still wet from the tears she let out right before you opened the door. Usually her eyes were always full of joy and love when she looked at you. But this time?

When she took another step closer to you, you understood her request and opened your arms where she directly fell into. Your arms which she always called her home, her safeplace, they are now closed around her waist, holding her tight.

Kate placed her head onto your shoulder, hiding her face in your neck and felt your scent in her nose. She felt safe there. Her pain was still here, but your touch felt smoothing on her skin.

She still perceived the urge to cry and as if you were reading her mind you broke the silence and whispered to her "Let it all out, Katie. It's okay."

You know Kate, she always tries to avoid crying in front of you, without any reasons to why. The last time you saw her on her lowest was maybe five months ago and that time she waited until you were asleep so she could cry. But you don't want this to happen again.

After she heard your voice, tears began to form in her already closed eyes. Tears that became waterfalls after minutes.

"I regret it." She mumbled multiple times into the sobs, which is making you more worried. Kate always wanted to be an avenger and a great archer, she's both now and you think maybe she should take a break from this. From all of this. But hearing from her that she regrets it hurts you more than expected. You knew exactly what she meant by "I regret it" so you didn't want to question it.

You let out a deep sigh and tried to calm Kate down. "It's okay, it's okay, I'm here." You said several times until the sobbing got more and more quiet.

Kate pulled herself out of the hug and looked at you. "That was.. intense." She started giggling nervously, which made you smile slightly. "Kate?" You said her name almost as loud as a whisper. "Yeah?" The answer came slowly and Kate looked at you, still with blood and tears in her face.

You literally call her by special pet names you have for her, only in situations like this you call her Kate. So she knew before you speak up that you will tell her something really important.

But before you said what you wanted to say, you noticed Kates hands on her belly. You walked closer to her and took her hands away from her stomach. More blood.

There was a deep cut. You gasped in shock. "Oh my gosh, Babe!" "I- i'm sorry, y/n." She groaned and pressed her hands back on her stomach. This movement caused you to hold her tight so that she can't fall over. You guided her to the bed where you helped her to lie down. "I'm going to get the first aid kit, stay here." You informed her, already walking out of the bedroom. "Well, it would be difficult not to stay here." She murmured, which made you smile broadly. Ugh how you missed her jokes.

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

It was middle of the night and you couldn't fall asleep. You sighed seeing your girlfriend sleeping next to you. Her hands are still on her belly.

You don't want her to go to the next mission, not like this, not with this hurt body.

After several strong thoughts, you snuggled closer to your Kate. You carefully placed your hand on hers and your head on her shoulder.

It felt so good to be near to the person that owns your heart after you haven't seen her for days.

Kate gently placed a kiss onto your forehead. She wasn't asleep. Of course she wasn't. In her head was a whole rollercoaster of emotions and thoughts.

"Babe?" You broke the silence in your sleepy voice. She was too tired to say anything so she just hummed in response.

"I love you, so much."

If only you knew how much Kate blushed and how her smile grew wider after you said those 5 words to her. The last time was way too long ago. You felt her hand take yours and intertwine your fingers. Your hands were above the cut that you already cleaned and cared for a few hours ago.

"And I love you so much more."

Slowly a tear escaped your eye. It was a happy and a sad tear at the same time. You were happy to hear Kate saying I love you to you again. And it was a sad tear because you were scared of losing her. Your Kate.

Kate heard your quiet sobbing and slightly squeezed your hand. "Talk to me." Your girlfriend whispered. She exactly knew how you feel, she already noticed it in the moment you opened the door. How your smile faded and the thin layer of tears in your eyes that reflected Kate's own picture of herself. She perceived your feelings.

"I can't-" Your voice cracked up because of the pressure in your throat. Kate softly sat up and stared at you. "I'm sorry, y/n." She whispered and took her other hand that she placed on your cheek. Her thumb caught a tear and you took a deep breath. "I can't lose you." Kate looked away, on your intertwined hands and also started tearing up again. "You will never lose me, my y/n, i promise."

You gently put your arms around Kate and now you were the one crying into her neck.

It maybe wasn't the best day of your life. But both of you finally showed your real feelings and emotions to eachother. But your love for Kate and her love for you will always be bigger than your worries.

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

tagging my dear friend here @hard-core-super-star

[slvttyplum]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ the holidays | satoru gojo

synopsis: getting ready for the holidays with satoru

contents: fluff, lowercase spelling

"alright, now hang that over there.”

“yeah that one too.”

“run to the store and get candy canes.”

“we should volunteer at the..."

he’s been hearing this all day. december couldn’t even roll in discreetly; you were already on it.

satoru has been running errands since 5 a.m. for either decorations for the christmas tree or the canned food drive.

he wasn’t the weakest link, plus it’s only been one day, but he’s about to tap out.

the constant yapping, the excessive decorating around the house, and running him back and forth from the store to the volunteer center, he was getting whiplash.

but there you were...

wrapped up in your cutest coat and boots, with the snow falling down on you gracefully and your face brighter than ever, standing there beautifully.

this was his favorite part.

watching you smile and giggle, fawning over how all the kids will be so ecstatic to receive the gifts.

how high-pitched your voice got when you mentioned baking cookies with him.

how you wrapped your arms around his waist, snuggling into his back on the cold winter day, whispering, “i love you.”

how you laughed and held your stomach at the ridiculous pajamas you made him wear.

and how he thought about why this christmas had to be special... because he wanted to marry you.

the past five years have been something so dear to his heart. even though he got stressed and flustered from the holidays, he had to think about why he loved them so much.

it was because of you.

the way you lit up every time with joy, talking about everyone else and getting them things.

you were never once concerned about yourself or the lack of gifts you got; you were always wrapping something up for someone else.

“that hat covers your head nicely.” satoru says walking a little closer to you but keeping a distance.

you look over at him, smiling.

the two of you were outside, wrapping the lights around the garage corners.

“i know, right. you have a good eye; it was the one you got me.” you look back at the long string of lights wrapping around the corner once more.

satoru let’s out a breath of air in relief; it was now or never. his hands were shaking, and he was nervous. he slowly dug in his coat pocket, reaching for the small velvet box with the ring.

you weren’t paying attention, so now was the time.

“i’ll always love you... y/n, so…” he slowly crept down on one knee, his words catching your attention.

you look to the side of you, and your jaw drops at his position, everything going blurry.

“OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD!"

nothing else could come out of your mouth; you quickly ran to him, wrapping your arms around him.

he laughs, wrapping his arms around you tightly, his head in the crook of your neck, taking in all your scent, your warmth, and your presence.

“well there goes my speech, huh?” he mumbles into your neck. you couldn’t do anything but laugh and swallow down a cry, but it doesn’t work.

you burst into a sob, clinging tighter to his embrace.

“warm.” you thought.

“took you long enough.” you are still crying. he laughs, tears falling out of his eyes and a sob erupting from his lips.

“fuck, i love you.”

[oneforthemunny]

Was inspired by a blurb by another blog ( @indouloureux ) about Eddie helping a reader with this scenario and thought it was entertaining: How each Eddie would respond to asking for help about struggling to pull your tampon out.

Modern!Eddie is an absolute simp and does not let her get embarrassed about anything and annoyingly says “It would be my honor🫡”

Mafia!Eddie is unfazed, man has seen more blood than he’d like to admit, but is lightly scolding you for not being careful, “Oh Kitten, need daddy’s help always.”

Older!Eddie is confused as to why you’re asking him, “Bunny, you know I’d do it, but my eyesight is terrible and I’d probably make it worse.”

Cowboy!Eddie would do it with just a small chuckle, “You’re one of a kind, sugar. Let’s get you sorted out.”

Dom!Eddie is slightly weirded out, not because it’s a period or vagina, but that something made for half the population is that tricky to use. “You’d think these scientists would figure something out for once, but noooo.”

Bartender!Eddie would help after you’d explain to him for five minutes that, yes, a tampon can get stuck and that it’s not an indicator of the size of your vagina, “Listen babe, you’re tight as fuck, that’s probably why- Okay fine do you have a better answer?”

Rockstar!Eddie would do it, but him and Nepotism Baby are married with multiple of the girls, so he is laughing. He pretends to think about it for a few minutes while she’s standing in the bathroom doorway mad as ever.

omfg this is a nightmare scenario but also so funny.

modern!eddie is on it!! you're freaking out and he's like "I got you" tries to get her to relax so he can get in there. "baby, I'll get it out, ok? just calm down. you're too tight." all sweet and coaxing. he gets it out eventually.

janitor!eddie would be similar, but she's so embarrassed to ask him. he hears her grunting and crying out in pain in the bathroom, so he's like??? you good?? and you're like frustrated and sobbing and hormonal, and he comes in to see you, foot on the counter mirror in one hand and tweezers in the other. "my tampon got stuck!!!" you wail, and he's ready to go. soothing and shushing so you'll relax, kneels down under you and gets it out.

mafia!eddie would be so unfazed by blood tbh. he's more effected by the hormones of a period than blood, doesn't think it's gross or whatever lame guys say. you get it stuck, and you're in the bath trying to like waterboard, flush it out and he's like??? here, let me. you're like "ed! be careful! don't push it back more!" and he's like I got it. pulls it out easily, like a bullet lol.

older!eddie bless him he's gotta put his readers on bc he can't see shit. wearing one of those headband type things with a light and his bifocals while you're just spread eagle in front of him.

cowboy!eddie is like.... what? not that he's like grossed out like he knows what a period is and it's natural, but he's horrified that... tampons get stuck??? they break???? he's sick at the thought of that. but he'd help you out. he's been inside animals before, unfortunately, so it's nothing he's not used to lmao.

dom!eddie would be in awe about 1) how far they had to go up your cooch 2) it broke?? like you would think they wouldn't want those things to break what the fuck. he's ranting the whole time. "whoever did this should be fucking guillotined because why would you make a shitty- I'm sorry sweetheart, I've almost got it- why would you-" "ed! shut up!" you grit, tears in your eyes. it feels much different that when he's normally inside of you.

bouncer!eddie has you hovering over his face so he can see in and try to get it out. "too tight, baby, I told you. got a grip reaper and look-" "eddie, shut the fuck up. that has nothing to do with this."

rockstar!eddie if it happened pre-babies would be disgusted. he would be gagging and she'd be bitching him out left and right, because he's being a fucking baby. then if it happened post babies and after they were married, he'd be cackling. probably say something gross like "and people wonder if you're still tight after six kids. gonna start telling them about this." "edward, I will fucking kill you. don't you dare tell anyone."

[princesspastel8]

Chapter 12: Torture

Dipper POV

"AAAAAAHHHHH! GAA! HAAAA! STOP STOP, PLEASE!" I cry out in pure agony.

Ford used one of his syringes to push holy water into my bloodstream....and oh god, it's the most painful feeling I've ever felt in my life. He made it clear he would stop at nothing to slow down the demon process. My insides feel as if they're on fire, burning to ash but somehow remaining stable.

I cough up pools of blood onto the wooden floor, tears flowing down my face like a river. I glance at the table, rows and rows of sharp objects soaking in holy water. I pull against the rop , weakly. The pain is becoming too much for me to handle.

I lost track of time. I can't tell if it's day or night, what month it is....I forgot the last time I ate anything....when was the last time I went to the bathroom?

My skin became unusually pale due to the amount of blood I've been throwing up. My body became skinner, my bones showing. The only piece of clothing I have left is my boxers. My tattoos would glow from time to time, upsetting Ford to no end.

The pain inside finally subsides, relief washing over me. The feeling, however, doesn't last long. I watch as Ford pulls out a knife, the blade long and sharp dripping in something glittery. The slight of it makes my stomach twist in disgust. I feel like I'm going to throw up again...

"I'm sure you know what this is, Dipper." Ford said, holding the knife in front of my face.

I gag at the smell, turning my head. "Fairy dust." I hiss through my teeth.

"Correct. I'm going to explain to you everything I will be doing. Understood?"

"I'm not a fucking five year Ford. You don't have to explain shit....just do it." I choke out, my throat suddenly dry.

Ford doesn't reply. Instead, he walks around behind me. I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand as I sense the knife getting closer and closer to my back. "I'm sorry, Dipper, but this has to be done."

"Fuck y-" before I can finish, I scream to the top of my lungs while trashing around in the chair.

Ford presses the knife against the cipher wheel onto my back. I can hear the sizzling sound of my flesh burning. He guilds the knife into my skin, cutting the tattoo off me in sections. The pain is so excruciating, making me feel faint.

My vision blurrs as the sound of my skin slapping to the ground. I choke out a sob, my begs becoming nonexistent to Ford's ears. My body goes limp as my surrounds turn black.

Bill POV

I fall off my throne, landing on my knees. My eyes unwilling wells up with tears. I place a hand over my throat, coughing up pools of blood. My eyes widen as my stomach stirs with a feeling I hate the most.

Fear.

Something is seriously wrong with my pinetree. I shouldn't have let him run off like that! He can't handle himself out there without protection! I try to stand but slip, landing in my own pool of blood.

"BILL!", I hear Pyronica shout in worry.

I raise my head to look at her with a glare. "W-Well don't just stand there... help me you -" I cough up more blood, crying out in pain.

Pyronica finally helps me up, gasping at the stream, flowing out of my body in waves. "B-Bill....what in devil's name is happening to you?!"

"Pinetree...some-something is wrong with my pinetree... where is everyone e-else?"

"Everyone went to throw themselves into the border....they all got bored."

"G-go get them... and tell them to find my pinetree... and br-bring him back to me.." I groan, pain shooting up to my back.

"But what about the border? I thought that was our priority?"

I glare at her, making her float off the ground, which makes me stumble. "Dipper is my priority! He is more important! Go find my pinetree, or I'll gouge out your eye, shove it down that skinny throat of yours, and watch you suffocate while ripping off your arms & legs! Now GO!"

She jumps, quickly nodding her head in fear. She floats out the only exit and entrance. I steadily walk to Dipper's throne I created for him. I float up, sitting down. I lower my head onto my hands, rubbing my face roughly. How could I....let him go like that...and or what? My stupid STUPID reputation? To impress those idiotic demons I call my 'friends'. They're just servants.

"Please be alright, Dipper...please."

Dipper POV

I wake up from a stinging pain on my back and bicep. I groan, hating the feeling of something dabbing in my open flesh wounds. I slowly open my eyes, my vision adjusting to my surroundings.

"Dipper! You're finally awake!" I hear a loud cheery voice shout.

I cringe, knowing exactly who that voice belongs to. "Mable....why are you down here?"

"Grunkle Ford went to get a few more things and asked me to watch you...plus everyone misses you!"

I chuckle bitterly. "Oh really, who?" I question.

"Well... everyone you killed. Can't you see them? Pacifica is here.. Robbie, Tembry, Soos....even mom and dad... but they look unrecognizable." She pouts, dabbing more rubbing alcohol on my flesh, making me hiss.

"The hell, Mable....no one is there." I say through my teeth, and I wish she would just leave my wounds to be infected.

"......huh? Dipper, there all right in front of you. I can only see how they were last presented. They all have stab wounds....Soos as a hole in his head... and mom and dad look... really really scary. But! At least I still get to see them every day. Thanks to Bill."

I nod my head weakly, hissing once more. "Mable fucking stop it hurts!" I shout.

Mable tenses, dropping everything onto the floor. She walks around now, standing in front of me. I raise my head to look at her, tears falling from her eyes, but she's smiling. She raises her hand in the air, bringing it down to my cheek roughly.

"I-Its ok bro, bro! Once grunkle Ford fixes you, we'll be the mystery twins again! I'll be able to hug you and do tickle fights like me used to."

"When. We. Were. Twelve. Mable can't you see I want nothing to do with you? Can't you see I fucking hate you with every fiber of my being? I loathe you. In fact if you were to die right now, I wouldn't care. You're selfish! You think about no one but yourself! You think the world owes you everything when it doesn't! You always...dragged me around even when I said no. You would cry and throw a tantrum when you didn't get your way. Heh....and worse of all... you always..ALWAYS chose boys over your own brother."

Before Mable responds, the door opens. In walks Ford with a black back filled with god knows what. He places the bag on the metal table and motions a crying Mable towards him.

"What's the matter?" He ask her gently, making me scowl.

"D-Dipper....just h-hurry and fix him...please." Mable begs, glancing at me.

"I will, Mable. I promise. Now leave because this isn't something you can take watching."

"No." Mable said sternly, drying her tears. She turns to look at me with a weird smile that's hard to read. "I want to stay and watch him get better."

Ford sighs, pulling two long metal sticks in the shape of a very skinny needle. He walks over to me, placing the two needles against certain spots on the top of my head. I tense, pulling at my rope restraints.

"I wouldn't move at all if I were you, Dipper. This is sadly going to be excruciating. It's a method used on mentally unstable patients a long time ago. Hopefully, this method works...."

With that said, he pushes the needles deep inside my head. The moment the needle reaches through my skull and inside my brain, my agonizing screams continue.

[satohqbanana]

Rewrite Tag

A couple of rewrites from other writers here! If you do not wish your work or yourself to be included and/or linked in this list, please inform me and I will take that part down.

There's five rewritten snippets here, so please look under the cut for the rest of the rewrites, as well as a new line for rewriting from myself!

OG by @finickyfelix:

Shylar and Knoron hesitated for a moment, before she offered her arm, smiling up at him. His hands shook, but he took her arm, and they followed the others.

Mine:

Time stilled. One. Two. Three. Then Shylar offered him a smile and an arm. With shaky hands, Knoron forced himself to be polite and go along with the others - as things should be.

*Despite going through OP's blog, I wasn't able to identify which pronouns refer to which characters! These placeholders are supposed to be for the characters' names. EDIT: OP provided clarifications for the names. Thanks!

OG line by @melpomene-grey:

As her hand closed around the hilt of the sword, a vast, humming energy filled the room, and one by one, the gas lamps that lined the walls went out, blinking away like eyelids on a many-eyed machine. The doors behind her slammed shut, and she realised with a sinking feeling what had happened. They were trapped.

Mine:

Eyes cast on the prize, the woman swung her hand to grab the sword. She had merely touched its ornate hilt when a pulsating energy shook the room. Lamps burst. Darkness filled her vision. Pressure crushed her body. Sweat ran down her skin. Trapped. She were trapped! They were all trapped!

OG by @kaylinalexanderbooks

I ran out of the house and didn’t stop until I reached the edge of the forest, at which point I collapsed. I looked up, staring into the dark abyss of the woods in front of me. I dropped my gaze to the ground. The stupid grass was greener than I’d ever seen. I closed my eyes and sobbed for a moment. Not this again. Not again. Not again.

Mine:

I ran out the door. And ran. And ran. And ran. My legs soon gave out. I gasped for air. My blurry vision caught sight of green. The forest?! This has to be fake. I scanned left and right, but found nothing else but thick foliage and dark wood. No! Not again! My eyes prickled. I choked on tears. I need air. I can't do this again!

OG by @somethingclevermahogony (has some mention of gore):

The farmer wailed at the sight of his livelihood reduced to a tangled pile of broken timber and flesh. Narul had little time to catch his breath, Mikrab was back on his feet, his back dripped with the blood of the swine.

Mine (also still has mentions of gore):

Narul had barely gotten air into his system and Mikrab had only just managed to get his wobbly legs stable on the ground when they made eye contact with the farmer. A guttural screech echoed through the land. The scattered lumber, lumps of flesh, and splashes of blood meant a gruesome cleanup for everyone involved, but the farmer's well-meaning companions agreed - with fatigued grimaces - that this was all the fault of the man's highly priced and aggressive boar stud in the first place.

OG by @illarian-rambling:

He traced one of the images with a finger; two gods debated furiously on twin mountain peaks. A mature woman with ears of gold, a winged lizard coiled around her feet, and a young girl holding a copper-furred hound by the scruff. Their faces were so similar, like a mother and daughter.

Mine:

A certain portrait caught his eye - a depiction of two gods, from within their own mountains. With an amused smile, his finger trailed around the gods' strikingly alike faces. On one side proudly stood a woman with a golden headdress and a winged lizard by her feet; on the other a young girl held a defiant gaze in her eyes and a red hound by her hands. A very typical mother and daughter pair, it seemed.

Here's a new line from me that you can try rewriting. This is an open tag, so anyone can try!

They're bag-weights. They don't help us hunt. They don't help us cook. They don't help us set up for the night, pay for the inns, or even try to help the folks we've been doing little errands for along the way. And yet we feed them, we tuck them into bed, we protect them in battle. Any day now, we'll die to an ambush because we're busy babying these two.

[asterrrific]

WRITE ME A NOVEL INSTEAD

S.Coups x Reader

Scenario: You applied for Graduate School last year, thinking that it would be a good idea to chase after your dream of grabbing that doctorate degree since your career as a Professor in Literature has been going very well according to your plans. You've been so happy and excited the whole time since you got in, and Cheol supports you 100% in your journey, that's why it took him by surprise when one day after school, you came home not in your best mood.

Genre: fluff, angst // established relationship // husband/daddy Cheol // ft. Godfather Gyu and daughter named Clarisse

Warnings: some cursings here and there🏃🏻‍♀️

---------------------------------------------------------

Cheol was having coffee in your front porch that afternoon, waiting for you to come home. He usually comes home earlier than you, so he made it a habit to wait for you when he has the chance.

"Hey, baby! How was sch-... did something happen?" He asks, setting down his mug and straightening in his seat. You slammed the door of your car, huffing as you marched up the steps of your home.

You smiled bitterly at him the moment you stepped on the landing, trying your best to keep your emotions to yourself.

"It's all good." you manage to answer, eyes twitching.

"You're scary when you're mad..." Cheol shudders as he makes a move to grab your hand towards him. You flinch when he makes contact, but he stays strong.

He rubs circles at the back of your free hand, eyes wondering to the suitcase you're holding on the other. In the back of his mind, he wonders if you're mad enough to smack it on him.

He looks you straight in the eyes, his gesture on your hand still continues. He waits for you to speak first.

You avoid his gaze and close your eyes, and from that act alone, he immediately knows you were about to break.

So, he pulls you closer to where he sits on the cushioned porch swing. He takes the suitcase from your other hand, sets it under the coffee table, and holds you closer to him. As soon as you face him, his face painted with a reassuring smile, you tremble. The first stray tear escapes your eye.

At this, he pulls you to sit across his lap. He lets your head rest on his chest as his arms envelop you into an embrace.

This was the first time ever that you broke down in front of him after attending grad school. It took him by surprise because you always came home blabbering and excited, telling stories of your academic journey.

"It's okay, my love. Cry it all out. I'm here... I'm here... I got you." He whispers as he swings the both of you gently, peppering soft kisses on the top of your head while caressing your back.

You sob on his chest silently, and you hug him closer to you, knowing that he's all you need after this stressful day. He lets you cry it all out, not stopping in caressing your back and showering you with comforting words and kisses.

When you were calming down, the sun was already setting, its fiery orange rays casting a soft glow on the both of you.

Slowly, you look up and notice that you've ruined your husband's perfectly gray shirt with your tears and makeup.

"Shit, I'm sorry, Cheol." you mutter, swiping hastily at the tears on your face.

He grabs your hands and chuckles as he wipes your tears with his thumb instead while cupping your cheek. You lean in to his touch.

"It's okay baby, I'm not worried about my shirt. I'm worried about you."

"You don't have to. It's really nothing." you answer.

"Crying for a solid five minutes isn't nothing, y/n. Care to tell me what happened?" he asks, his hand still not leaving your cheek.

You close your eyes and sigh.

"It's rather silly..."

"I don't care. tell me. hmm?"

"No seriously, it's stupid."

"Baby, it's not. Please tell me?"

You lean on his chest again and he hugs you close, waiting for you to talk.

"I failed to perfect my book review on The Great Gatsby. I tried to defend my claims, but the professor just dismissed me." you answer quietly.

"How many did you get?"

"...97..."

"Over a hundred?"

You nod.

He chuckles, much to your annoyance. You lightly slap at his chest.

"I TOLD YOU IT'S SILLY!" You whine, wanting to cry again. He stops laughing, but a goofy smile still adorns his face.

He gently tucks away your bangs, still beaming.

"Y/N, that's a whole ass book review you're talking about. 97 isn't bad. You don't have to aim for perfect all the time. It'll just stress you out." He starts. His hand finds your cheek again, caressing it.

"But still-"

"Baby, not all of my lyrics make it to the album as well. Sure it pisses me off sometimes, but it is what it is. When a new album comes, I try to better my write ups and submit again. Eventually, I get some in."

You look at him, wondering what he's implying although you seem to get where he's coming from.

"Look, my point is... it's just a review. Maybe some of your positions didn't match the beliefs of your professor. Maybe he disagreed with some that's why he gave you that score. But trust me, that score is already beyond good. That's VERY good. Just because you didn't perfect it, it means it's already bad."

You sniff as response. You don't really know what to say. You do know though, that you want him to keep talking... to keep consoling you.

"I don't care if you get 90 on your writeups. That's the opinion of your instructors. That's their problem. All your writeups get a solid 100 from me." he puffs cockily, smirking up at you.

You smile at him, letting your hand travel across the stain you made on his chest. You sigh as an answer.

"Are you atleast feeling better now, love?" He asks.

You meet his eyes and nod.

He smiles warmly at you. Although you're already married for four years now, it seems you still haven't learned how to tame your butterflies everytime he smiles lovingly at you.

"Write me a novel instead." He suddenly blurts out.

"Excuse me?" you laugh.

He chuckles "Yeah, and I'll grade it per chapter. A solid hundred every time."

"Maybe someday..." you answer.

He pulls your face in closer to him.

"Promise?"

"Promise, baby." you answer.

He gives you another smile, and draws you even closer to give you soft, lingering kisses on your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, and finally, your lips.

You melt into his arms, tightening your embrace around his neck as you bask longer into the kiss. You feel him smile in the kiss, and it makes your heart swell. The 97 grade on your paper already damned and forgotten.

"Eew, mommy and daddy are making out on the porch. That's PDA!" comes a voice from the door. You shut your eyes tight, realizing that Mingyu is here, probably to visit your three year old daughter, Clarisse.

Cheol looks up, then comes back down to rest his forehead on yours. He laughs in realization.

"Oops, forgot about Gyu babysitting Clarisse." he laughed.

"Your parents didn't make it today?" You ask him. He shakes his head.

"That's PBA!" You daughter squeaks in Gyu's arms, pointing an accusing little finger at the tangled mess that you and Cheol are. Her hair's a mess. You realize she must have just woken up from her afternoon nap.

"Honey, that's basketball you're talking about." Cheol chuckles.

Mingyu brings Clarisse to you and you reach out for your daughter. You cuddle her close and give her lots of kisses.

"Y/N, would you make me a novel too?" Gyu asks as he sits on the rocker opposite you, whipping out his phone.

"That'll depend. Did you hear us?"

"Uh huh, every word." He smiles. Gyu understands your frustration. He's been there with you and Cheol since the beginning so he knows you very well.

"Mommy why would you write on toto Gyu's navel? That's eew." your daughter declares.

That earns a laugh from you, Cheol, and Gyu.

"Baby, it's NO-VEL not navel." Cheol corrects her as he squishes her face tenderly.

"What's a nowbel, daddy?" she asks innocently.

"It's like the naptime story I read to you earlier, cupcake. Only longer." Gyu offers, winking at his godchild.

"Oooh, I love stories! Make me one too?" she whips at you, bouncing excitedly on your lap.

"Now there's three of us who wants a book." Cheol says, brushing the back of his hand on your cheek.

"Yeah, we're the pioneers of your fanbase now. To hell with your 97 review." Gyu announces, raising a cookie like a toast.

You look at your daughter and melt at her twinkling eyes. You give in when she flashes you a heart smile. She got it from her daddy.

"Anything for my baby girl." You coo as you kiss her tiny head.

"How about your other baby? I'm baby too?" Cheol pouts.

"I'm baby too!" Gyu chimes.

"Shut up, both of you. You're not Clarisse." you scold, laughing.

"Clarisse won't be here without me." Cheol grumbles. Your eyes widen as you smack him on the chest again because of that comment.

"Y'all won't be here today without me." Gyu scoffs. It's true. If it weren't for him, you wouldn't have met Cheol.

"OH MY GOD SHUT UP." You scold them again, ears blushing red.

"Shapup!" Clarisse chimes as well.

---

This is my first Seventeen fanfic/au oh my gosh😭 I had fun writing it as well! idk where I got this from, all I know is that ideas flowed while I was having dinner and brewed coffee alone just a while ago and I knew I had to write these words down before I could lose them ><

As always, thank you for your support on my last aus! It really means a lot to me🥺🤍

I'm open for requests, btw! Let me know if you have anyyy!

Lablaaaaab~

[kr0ffie]

"Just almost within reach"

Whumptober day 6 - “It should have been me”

• Fandom : School Bus Graveyard (Webtoon)

• Genre : Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort

• TW : Hospital, vague mentions of injuries, mentions of bullying, survivor's guilt

• Extra Note : Whumptober except im 6 days late. Gonna do prompts 1-5 and 7 tommorow. Hopefully.

This is shorter than my usual fics, as I want to get a head start on whumptober. Literally almost never wrote whump before tell me if I did good.

Now enjoy!

How can Taylor be so fucking stupid?

He was right there. If she was just a little faster- a little bit faster-

But that isn’t what happened, a voice in her head said.

No matter how fast, she knew, they knew, that she could never reached Tyler. Everything happened so fast, too fast.

It was Tyler’s fault, in a sense. It was he who was gripping the car handle, and when Ashlyn swerved the car, it was he who accidentally opened the door, resulting in him falling out.

It was not Ashlyn’s, or Aiden’s. Nor was it Ben’s, Logan’s, or even Taylor’s.

It was Tyler’s own fault.

The– phantom? No, even that thing can’t be called a phantom. The monster was just behind them. If they were a bit slower, the monster would’ve caught on to them, and they’ll die.

Ashlyn was right to leave him behind, even though none of them wanted to. They need to survive first, and then they’ll try to find Tyler.

But that didn’t happen, the voice said again. None of you found him, and now look what happened to him.

“Fuck off..” Taylor muttered to herself.

“Huh?” Logan lifted his head up from where it was resting on his knees.

“Nothing.” Taylor assured him quickly.

The hospital was silent. Logan was curled up beside her right, with Ben sitting and tapping his feet besides her left on the waiting bench they’re on. Besides their bench, was another bench where both Aiden and Ashlyn were sitting, the two of them holding hands tightly. Taylor would’ve made fun of them, if not for Ashlyn’s dried tear tracks and the distant look on Aiden’s face.

The other parents had asked if Taylor’s friends would like to go home, while Taylor and her mom waited here for news. But the five of them refused to move from their seats, and Aiden even almost had a shouting match with his parents. In the end, their families decided to go to the hospital’s canteen, leaving their kids some alone time.

Silence fell once again, with only Ben’s tapping of feet and other people’s hushed whispers accompanying the silence.

And then there’s a choked sob.

Heads turned towards Logan, who started sobbing quietly into his knees. Choked sobs and quiet hiccups filled the room. Taylor puts a hand on his shoulder, giving him some comfort.

“I- I should’ve shot the- the thing-” He quietly said between hiccups. “I- I should’ve stalled us some- some more time, so that-” He stopped talking, and started to sob more loudly.

None of them has ever seen Logan cry. Even since before they became friends, before they cared for each other. Even when they saw him getting beaten up to a pulp, pushed into the lockers, or even dunked into the toilet- none of them has ever seen him cry before.

So of course, Logan crying was the breaking point for the others too.

Taylor’s grip on his shoulder tightened, and before long, tears started going down her face too.

“No. Logan- don’t fucking say that-” A choked sob came out of her throat. “It- I should’ve moved faster- he was just within my reach- he wouldn’t have ended up like this if I just moved faster-”

Warm suddenly embraced her. Logan was hugging her. He was holding her as if she was his lifeline, as if she’s gonna fall out just like Taylor.

So she hugged him back as tightly.

“It- it should have been me Logan. He didn’t deserve- I should’ve been the one who-”

There’s a sudden screeching of chairs. Taylor looked up, only to be met with a slap to her face.

“Don’t, and I mean don’t, you fucking dare, say that, ever again.” Ashlyn was staring holes into Taylor, hand still up. A beat passed, hushed whispers turned completely quiet as strangers that none of them knew watched the scene unfolding beneath them.

Ashlyn’s figure was shaking. Her lips started to tremble, and seconds later she broke down. Tears streamed down, and with shaking hands she wrapped both Taylor and Logan into a hug.

Taylor’s cheek was still throbbing, but she couldn’t care less. The three of them cried into each other’s shoulders, ignoring everything and everyone around them. Sometime later, Ben and Aiden would quietly join their little bubble.

Something that Taylor realised while the others were still breaking down, was that they're kids. Children.

Six kids, against the world. Just trying to live, trying to survive.

Five kids, crying into each other on the floor of a hospital, desperately praying to any god out there for their other friend to survive.

No, everything will not be okay, even after Tyler wakes up- because he will wake up.

None of them will be okay, but at least they can share their pain with each other.

A voice in Taylor's head kept telling her that it's her fault Tyler is injured, but Taylor just cursed the voice before holding onto her friends tighter.

[cycat-carisi]

Self-Destructive

I’m supposed to be writing a thesis, yet this little drabble hit me like a ton of bricks...so yeah, I’m yeeting it into the Tumblr world! Enjoy? Could fill the “Fresh Start” square in @adarafaelbarba’s birthday bingo!

Summary:  Just a little hurt/comfort drabble with Joe (: Pairing: Joe Velasco x Reader Warnings: language, mentions of domestic abuse, hurt/comfort Words: 806 AO3 here

You are drunk again. A few of your female police officer buddies had joined you for drinks after your shifts. Afterall, it had been a particularly hard day. First, you were called to the scene of a bad accident, then it was followed up with a potential case of assault, and to top it all off, your boss yelled at you for some dumb thing that the alcohol has already made you forget.

Yet another shot is being downed when suddenly he walks in. The sexiest man you have ever seen. Tall, dark and most certainly handsome. Light stubble lines his cheeks and that leather jacket...oh boy, that leather jacket!

"Chiquitita . Time to go home," he speaks in a voice barely audible over the music in the bar.

"Why, hellooo handsome!" you whistle. All your friends' eyes are on you, but you’re too drunk to register their stares.

"Come on," he whispers against your ear.

"Trying to take me home, eh? Well, good lookin', it's a good thing you're so good lookin' because I'm definitely gonna let you take me home!" You stumble a bit, bracing a hand on his firm shoulder.

His find your waist to steady you while, under his breath, the man lets out a curse in Spanish. "I’m your boyfriend, Chiquitita, and it's time to go home now." His voice is stern, dripping with annoyance.

"You're my boyfriend!?! Damn girl, you done goooood!" you give yourself a sloppy pat on the shoulder.

"Please," he begs with those big green eyes. "You do this every time. I dread getting this call but it keeps happening. This has to stop."

You had met Joe Velasco when responding to a call of domestic violence a few years ago. The two of you locked eyes immediately; some kind of electric exchange happening from across the room. He had been the one to ask for your number and there had been no going back since.

A large frown causes your brows to wrinkle but you nonetheless allow Joe to lead you out of the bar. The cool night air feels like a slap to the face, yet it allows you a moment of clarity. "What's the matter with you?!" you demand, perhaps a little too harshly.

"What's the matter with me?" he scoffs, still supporting you in his arms. "You're the one whose friends repeatedly call me to come and get you when you’re drunk out of your mind!"

You add fuel to the argument, exclaiming, "I had a bad day!"

"We all have bad days! But you get completely wasted and…you know how it makes me feel."

"But you knew going into this whole thing that I’m a bit self-destructive!"

"A bit? Come on, please!" Joe rolls his eyes, exasperated.

"I grew up with five brothers! You'd think that after five boys my parents would have wanted a girl.” You sputter out an angry laugh. “Ha! Nope! I was the accident that came out with an X chromosome instead of a Y and they never let me forget it!"

Joe has repeatedly been there for you when it came to how your family treated you, but right now he’s tired of you using it as an excuse for your drinking. "And I had an abusive father,” he rebuts, “who...who would..." There's pain etched across Joe's face as he says the words. "He would drink until there was nothing left, which only made him angrier. That anger had to come out somewhere..."

Your foggy mind immediately flashes to the scars you know litter Joe's back. Suddenly, the guilt hits you like a ton of bricks. "I'm so sorry, babe," you sob out. "I didn't mean to hurt you! I didn't mean to make you think of him. I'm sorry." The tears run freely. Clearly, you are an inconsiderate, self-absorbed asshole to a boyfriend who has been nothing but good to you.

Joe's face softens, his tone lowering to match. "Hey, don't cry, Chiquitita. I'm sorry you had a bad day, but drinking won't make it better. I know my schedule is nuts, but I will always be here for you to talk with. I wish you would turn to me instead of the bar."

You honestly didn't deserve him, yet Joe still made you want to be a better person. "I promise, Joe! I promise to talk. I promise not to drink. I promise to be better to you!" You fling your arms around his middle and squeeze.

It's not a moment later that his arms fully envelope you, pressing you tighter to his chest. You can hear the steady thrum of his heart, beating like a calming melody in the most frightful of storms. "I love you," you murmur against his shirt.

"I love you, too," he whispers into your hair. "Now, let's get you home."

---

Tag list: @plaidbooks @adarafaelbarba  @misscharlielulu @barbasbodaciousbeard @caracalwithchips @averyhotchner @one-sweet-gubler @anlin2058 @katieslotherford @pjkimrn @aynansstuff

I realize it has been an insane amount of time since I last posted, so please let me know if you’d like off/on this list ^^ 

*crawls back under my rock until the next idea needs out of my head*

[eclipzeluv]

The night turned dark / g.w

summary: the night of june 24, 1995 wasn’t an easy one to handle with the death of cedric diggory. flashing forward to may 2, 1998– your feelings of loss were finally put together for george, where he understood to the fullest.

universe: harry potter

pairing: mention of fred x reader (platonic) mention of george x reader (unknown) mention of reader x cedric (siblings)

warnings: mentions of death, feeling lost. wanting to die, hopelessness.

a/n: this is my first time back on tumblr writing, especially in the harry potter fandom! <3 i’m just getting back into writing, i apologize if this is rough, or bad.

i plan to possibly make another part between y/n and fred a month or two after cedrics death

May 2, 1998.

Hogwarts School of Wizardry. The battle of Hogwarts.

I understand now. I understand the loss that was felt June 24th, 1995.

I understand you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

June 24, 1995

The Triwizard Tournament, final task.

The final task didn’t end how we all assumed it would have. Fleur and Krum were back, but Cedric and Harry were no where in sight. They should have been back by now.

Me and Freddie expected to lift Harry up in our arms by now, loud cheers.

What was taking them so long? That’s the question that has been asked for as long as forty-five minutes now. Should someone go in there? A search party?

You were in front of me, during such event. I saw you. You were faced away from me looking forward, but your body language was something that didn’t go unnoticed by me.

The knowledge of your brother not being back, it worried you.

What happened.. It happened suddenly. Cheers and applauding from all around. Harry and Cedric were back, Hogwarts was thrilled.

You were relieved for a moment, the breath you let out, showing your relief. You were close to running down those bleachers,

If I were to guess, you were about ready to prance your brother and smack him for worrying you, but pulling him in a strong hug.

That was until you heard Harry’s screams and wails. In that moment, you lost yourself.

In that moment, you froze. You knew what had happened before everyone else bothered to quiet down their roars of excitement. Or maybe you had a hunch, not wanting it to be true.

In that moment, whispering started down below. Frantic whispers. Hushed, but loud.

“Keep everybody in their seats. A boy has just been killed. The body must be moved.”

You made your way down to the scene, away from the bleacher seat you had once been in, in-front of me. Your father too made way over to the scene as he saw you move quickly. The both of you wondering what possibly could’ve happened inside of that maze.

“He's back! Voldemort's back. Cedric, he asked me to bring his body back. I couldn't leave him, not there!”

It was in that moment that Harry’s wails were muffled by your screams of horror as you saw your brother’s body before you.

It was in that moment, you fell to your knees, your sobs taking away any air within your throat as you tried to gasp for air.

It was in that moment..

“That’s my son!”

“That’s my boy!”

The world turned quiet for you.

That was the moment, where everyone was crowded around your brothers body. In shock watching as you cried, watching as you held your head over Cedric’s chest just as Harry was. Clutching onto him, not wanting to ever let go.

Wishing such an event wasn’t true.

There was nothing more I wanted to do in that moment than to take you away. Take this sight away from you.

Take you away as Mad-Eye did Harry.

I didn’t know you then, but oh how i knew you didn’t need this happening to you.

I felt for you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

May 2, 1998.

Hogwarts School of Wizardry. The Battle of Hogwarts.

I understand how you felt that night Y/N.

I understand your wails, your tears, your cries. It’s how I feel right now, as I look at my twins lifeless body in front of me.

I want to die Y/N. I know you’ve felt like this too, when Cedric died. It’s taking everything in me to not leave and do such a thing right now.

You’re sat across from me, on the opposite side of his body. In silence, tears spewing down your cheeks in silence. This sucks for you too, but worse for me.. as messed up as it sounds. But we understand another.

On that fateful night of June, you lost your brother. Your best friend.

On this fateful night of May, you’ve lost Fred. Fred, who filled the gap in your heart when you were at your worst.

Fred, who was the closest thing to a brother you had. The one who you found brotherly love in for the past three years.

Fred, the one who saved your life the day you were about to give up.

On this fateful night, me. Who lost the one thing that made me, me. My other half. My best friend.

I look up to take a glance at you, a moment our eyes locking.

“You look like hell…” is all you could manage to get out from the break of your voice.

“I’ve just gotten back.” Is what I managed to choke out to you as you leaned your forehead down against Fred’s. Trying not to lose my composure, trying to hold on in this silence.

I understand you. I think I always did.

[trixree]

Heyyyy, I'm new here can I ask about the Fledgling fic? oWo

Per my last post, I'm catching up on old Asks, AO3 comments, and messages received during my hiatus! (Psst, go do my Fanfic Poll) I started writing Fledgling because I craved more One Piece kid fic but was struggling to find ones that scratched the itch. I also have had parrots my whole life, so doing something with some sort of bird devil fruit made intuitive sense to me. My birds are my kiddos, so birds = babies. I'll admit that I did lose steam on it after awhile (especially cause it's one of my lowest engagement fics, which is a given because of the genre I guess) but a complete outline DOES indeed exist somewhere in the depths of my Google Drive and I can see myself returning to it someday. I planned to end the story with the crew's reunion on Saobody.

Here's a bit of the existing draft for chapter 6:

Tori is slow to calm. It takes nearly twenty minutes between the two of them to wind her down so that those awful, aching sobs transform into tiny little hiccups. This, too, is familiar to Sanji—the patience that a slow-to-calm child requires. Hell, even now, Sanji is talented at winding himself back up just when he’s started to mellow out again, just by getting stuck on the wrong thought at the wrong time. So, he holds her while Zoro pays painstaking attention to every single feather in her wings, gathering the oil that lives near the base of each pin and working the bristles with just the right pressure. 

And Tori hiccups. And she cries. And she begs them not to give her up. Asks them both, again and again, if she can stay if she’s good enough, and each time, the two of them reply with unwavering conviction. 

“You’re nakama.” 

“You’re not going anywhere without us.” 

“We won’t give you up.” 

And eventually, she tires herself out. 

“Let me take her,” Zoro whispers after the quiet sound of her (finally) steady breathing lasts for more than five minutes. 

“It’s okay, I—”

“Cook, you’re exhausted,” Zoro says. For once, it doesn’t feel like an insult or a jab. He is exhausted. Has been since the whole mess with the admiral. He was exhausted through dinner, exhausted while cleaning up afterwards, and exhausted when Tori rushed in, needing them both so desperately. 

Sanji sighs. “Yeah, alright.” Carefully, he transfers her over into Zoro’s waiting arms. 

By necessity, they go slowly, careful to jostle her as little as possible, and Sanji—well, he’s not sure he’s ever been this close to Zoro for this long, before. They’re standing close enough that Sanji can discern every individual eyelash on the other’s startlingly handsome face—and it really is startling.

Peripherally, Sanji is always aware of Zoro’s attractiveness. He’d have to be blind not to be. (Or so he tells himself. Because it isn’t wrong to have eyes, is it? The wrongness is in the wanting, and Sanji does not want. He just has an aesthetic appreciation for the masculine, that’s all. And Zoro certainly is masculine, if nothing else.) 

But to be so close—to be able to study all the little silvery scars that adorn his cheeks, the sharpness of his jaw, the slight bump to his otherwise perfectly sharp nose that betrays a past break, the color and shape of his lips—and to confront all that without the background noise of a meal to prepare, an enemy to defeat, a country to save… is startling. 

His arms were meant for this, Sanji realizes suddenly, watching him cradle Tori’s sleeping form close to that broad, rock-solid chest. 

“You need to sleep,” Zoro suddenly says, breaking whatever strange trance had fallen over Sanji instantly. 

Blushing furiously, Sanji scrubs both hands roughly across his face. “Yeah, sure. I’ve got a—” he gestures vaguely to the storage closet where he keeps an extra futon for late nights just like this, “—so I’ll just…” 

Zoro nods, never once looking up from Tori’s sleeping, tear-blotched face. 

“She’ll be alright,” tumbles out of his mouth. Zoro blinks at him, considering, and Sanji winces at his presumption. “I just—she’s resilient. It’s like Usopp said. Kids carry things differently. She’ll wake up tomorrow and… and be just fine,” he finishes, lamely. 

“I know.” And oh. This is not a voice that Sanji has heard before. Zoro’s baritone is nothing but a deep rumble in his chest in the still quiet of the night. (A knee-jerk reaction, Sanji wonders what it must feel like to Tori, to be pressed against that chest, feeling the vibration of those words and—)

“Right,” Sanji finishes, lamely. He turns his attention to Tori once more, brushing some stray tight curls out of her face and pressing a small kiss against her forehead, pointedly refusing to catch Zoro’s eyes as he pulls away. “Goodnight,” he offers lastly, with a tired smile. 

“Yeah. Goodnight, Sanji.” 

It is only when he’s on the cusp of sleep that Sanji realizes: Zoro had said his name.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Beyond the Blood Tie - Chapter Thirty Three.

Well... so the last chapter happened, then :( and now we deal with the fallout. I’m so sorry I had to break your hearts, guys!

Previous Chapters - One  Two, Part One Part Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine  Ten  Eleven  Twelve  Thirteen  Fourteen  Fifteen  Sixteen  Seventeen  Eighteen  Nineteen  Twenty  Twenty One  Twenty Two  Twenty Three  Twenty Four  Twenty Five  Twenty Six  Twenty Seven  Twenty Eight  Twenty Nine  Thirty  Thirty One Thirty Two

Words - 5,504

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI!

Ursula's POV

"Thank you, Constance. I feared she would have wound herself up so much, her heart would have given up on her. Humans cannot handle that stress so well," I tell my creator as EZ places an out cold Edie down into Angel's bed and pulls the covers over her. He then turns to me, his eyes rimmed with bloody tears. I give him a nod and he leaves at once, no doubt to go and vent his emotion privately.

"I only wish I could do for you what I did for her, my darling girl," Constance whispers comfortingly as she wraps her arms around me again, kissing my forehead. Edie fainted upon hearing the news that Angel has been killed, but when she came around again, the hysteria she flew into made me fear she'd do herself or her heart damage, more so than the break that must be in it to hear and feel her lover is gone. Constance literally forced her to drink from her wrist, and keep drinking too. Two thousand years old plus vampire blood is strong, and it did what we needed it to do, which was render a devastated Edie unconscious.

"I wish you could too. Excuse me, but now Edie is calmed I just want to be alone," I tell my creator, sliding out of her embrace and leaving the room with her at a walk before heading down the hallway, feeling someone who isn't Constance behind me and then having Charles wrapping me in his arms again. He did when I felt our boy die, but I was in such a state of unhinged grief I pulled out of his embrace, staggering into the hallway as I tried to pick up on anything, just a tiny sparkle of the life of Angel left, but could feel nothing at all.

"Why? Why did it have to be my beautiful son? Why did they give me no opportunity to offer myself instead?" I sob, breaking down again as my husband turns to my side and then picks me up, carrying me to our bedroom and sitting down on the bed when we arrive. He gently rocks me in his arms as I weep, feeling sadder still when I see his tear rimmed eyes so wide and sad as they look down at me.

"They shall all die. Whoever did this to him, to us, they shall die. I promise it with every moral fibre of my being. It will be done. They shall meet their end via our hands, my love," he vouches strongly, stroking and kissing my head over and over, while I return to screaming and crying at the same time as it keeps going through my head. Angel is dead, Angel is dead. It repeats like a ceaseless, heartbreaking mantra over and over. I'll never see his beautiful face, or spend hours conversing with him, or listen to his troubles, or put my arms around him and tell him how proud I am of him again. I shouldn't have favourites, and it doesn't mean I don't love the memory of Adeline and Ivan any less, but I always loved Angel the most. Now I have no children, all three dead.

I close my eyes and picture his face, and then replay in my head the first time I ever saw him all over again. I go back those one hundred years, to the house Charles and I were staying in, opposite where EZ and Angel were hiding out in the wake of the disaster. I remember watching them leaving the house and shooting anything dead and walking so efficiently that I thought they were military men, the calm cool they went about thinning the dead out in. The reanimated didn't scare them, they fought well and bravely to stay alive. Those characteristics appealed to me, as well as the fact he was very handsome. His eyes, that lovely chocolate brown hue, I smiled when I first looked into them, almost like he was familiar to me somehow. He was so lovely. I cannot even begin to get over the loss of losing him, and am in such grief, such hysterical, painful grief over my loss that there's only one thing I want to do.

"Charles, I want to go to ground for a few days, I am simply too distressed. Please, you take charge of everything along with Constance while I'm buried. I need to switch off to help myself heal. I'll come back after four days. Is that alright?" I propose, as he dries my tears with his handkerchief.

"Of course, my darling. I shall hold the fort with everything until you return to us. I advise you contact Elias and tell him firstly of Angel's death and secondly of your plan to go to ground," he suggests as I sit up from his lap and get off the bed.

"I will, and I shall also tell him to liaise with Constance over any further developments in this conspiracy. Even though right now I don't care, they could shoot me in the head as soon as I step out of the house and I wouldn't care. My beautiful boy is gone," I lament before going to wash my face free of tear trails and makeup, and then call Elias firstly as per Charles' suggestion, before calling Edie's boss to inform him she's been bereaved and will not be back in work for a while. I then head downstairs and give the big vampire waiting at the foot of them a hug.

"I'm going to ground for a few days, I confess this is more than I can cope with at the moment," I tell EZ, watching him nod as I let him go again.

"I was just coming to tell you I'm heading off for a few days out of town, but in light of your decision I shall stay. Someone needs to keep an eye on Edie. I will call those who knew him to tell them of his demise." I smile and reach up to kiss his cheek before heading outside to the back yard with Charles to dig my resting place for the next four days and nights. After stripping naked, I turn to my husband.

"Thank you. You've been my rock throughout this ordeal, and I know we will overcome it, and in the centuries to come look back and laugh at my adversaries, for we will defeat them," I tell him, standing on my tiptoes to plant a soft kiss upon his lips.

"That's my girl," he praises softly, kissing the tip of my nose. "Until Friday, my dear love." He then adds before I step into the freshly dug hole. I close my eyes and feel him beginning to shovel in the dirt over my body, and then switch myself off. Total peace is what I need to begin mending the break in my heart that Angel's death has left me with. Not that I think it ever truly will.

EZ's POV

"I know I hadn't seen him for a long time, it doesn't fill me with any kind of joy that he's died. I cannot believe the hand the TVM has played here, to kill Angel for no reason. Unless of course, it was revenge for Dawn's arrest and detaining," Coco tells me when I wander into Charles's sitting room to find him sitting on the couch. Not to be disrespectful to him, but I just want to be alone.

"I don't know, and it doesn't matter. He's gone. Excuse me, I want to be by myself," I reply before moving out of the sitting room and back up to my room, lying down on my bed and just staring at the ceiling as I frown. I can't believe he's gone. I do think Coco's theory is right though, I do think he was murdered in revenge of Dawn's capture, being second in charge at the helm of the TVM, of course. That has to be it, but like I said in reply to my old friend, it doesn't matter. He's still dead, but this time the kind of dead that doesn't walk around feeding off human blood for all eternity. I suddenly get a horrible feeling, thinking that for all eternity (unless anything should happen to me) I'll have this on my mind, the time Angel exited my life.

As I lie here, I think back to us as children, me being the little brother he always defended, but who’s life he made a living hell at times when we were small, as older siblings often do. I remember his joining of the MC, something he devoted his life to, his dedication to outlawing. It's then as I think about his passion for tattooing in the vampiric stage of his life that I remember the shop, and realise Sal and Eric have to be told, others such as Sissy to name one, too. I can't think of many others who particularly need to know. Angel had only a very select and close circle of friends. I begin by calling Sissy and informing her of the news. Immediately she wants to speak to Ursula, but I tell her that isn't possible.

"I don't understand why they'd do it, but I'm inclined to agree that it was for revenge. This is awful, simply terrible. I can't imagine how Edie must feel," she replies, sounding sad.

"She's out cold at the moment, Constance force fed her blood to make her pass out. She was extremely distressed, to put it mildly," I share, hearing Sissy sigh.

"The poor kid, I'm so sorry for her." I can agree with that. She's human, fragile, and has lost the vampire she loved. It'll hurt her a thousand times more than it'll hurt us, and believe me, we‘re hurting. Humans, they feel everything so very deeply. After speaking to Sissy, I then call Eric, who takes the news much worse and much more emotionally than Sissy did. He's a strange one, Eric. He's more human in nature than any other vampire I can think of. I make that call a short one, excusing myself and just going back to staring at the ceiling.  

I feel very strange and somehow quite alone, knowing he's no longer here. The last of my born blood family, gone. I just cannot believe they killed him like that. It is at this point that I wonder what was done with his remains. What was left of him was probably just hosed away off the floor, like he meant nothing to anyone. That'll be what'll hit Ursula and Edie the hardest, that he'll have no grave, no proper burial. They'll have no place to go to mourn him.

Me too, actually, if I admit it to myself, lying here and thumbing bloodied tears from my eyes, having a moment where I weaken, not feeling like I have to be the strong one in the wake of my brother’s death. It is short lived, though, pushing it down again. Deciding I can't lie here forever I get up, and when I'm outside of my room in the hallway I run into our housekeeper Maggie.

"Charles just told me the news. I'm so sorry, for all of you," she consoles me with. I just nod in reply.

"Thank you," I add after a few moments.

"I have some of his clothes here, but I don't know what to do with them," she then says, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. She really liked Angel.

"I think Edie will probably want to keep a few items, you humans like doing that, having things to remember people by." I state, taking the pile of clothes from her and then letting myself into Angel's room. Edie is still asleep, which is the best thing she can be right now, not awake and having to deal with such tremendous pain. I put the clothes down on the desk, not wanting to begin looking around for where they are usually kept. It's just as I'm turning to leave that I see a picture in a frame on the desk, one of Edie and Angel taken down at his shop. He loved her so very much.

"Don't worry, bro. I'll look after her for you now." I tell his image, sighing and then turning to leave. I scratch Icarus on the head before I go, thinking it very loyal that the wolf refuses to leave Edie's side. Both he and I will keep her safe from now on, now Angel isn't here to do it himself any longer. Looking after the woman he loved so much is the least I can do to honour his memory, and I will. I don't mind Edie at all; in fact, I'd go as far to say that a part of me actually quite likes her.

"I thought you wanted some time alone?" my creator asks me when I find him in his study. He's rarely in here, preferring to work at work and keep his home as his sanctuary away from it, but sometimes when he's very busy, he does come in here to go over things he's brought home to study. Any other time he's here, it's because he's thoughtful. I can't blame him for being just that at this present moment.

"I'm not sure what I want right now. I feel too mixed up, or as mixed up as a vampire can feel," I confess, Charles nodding deeply.

"I sympathise. It must be terrible, this loss you're feeling. It no doubt doubly eclipses mine too, and I looked at Angel like he was a son," he admits, sighing deeply and closing his eyes for a few moments.

"I'm going to visit Angela. I need a way to take my mind off this.”

He nods in understanding. "Of course, my boy, of course." Within seconds, I’m knocking her front door.

"EZ? What's wrong?" she questions, obviously able to read in my face that I'm far from happy right now.

"Angel is dead," I whisper, watching her gasp and cover her mouth with her hands.

"What, how?"  

"The fucking TVM, a revenge attack for Dawn's incarceration, we think," I reply, watching her look more shocked by the second.

She reaches for my arms, grasping softly. “I’m so sorry.”

Closing the door behind me, I pick her up, yanking her top down with a swift tug. "I don't want to hear how sorry you are. I just want you to help me forget."

Eric's POV

"Babe, are you out here?" Sasha calls to me, as I watch Dana and Dobbs, my nest mate Toby's dogs run around the back yard.

"Yeah, I'm right here, honey," I sigh, stepping out of the shadows, waving weakly at her.

"Hey, hey gorgeous. Geez, you look so sad.” Yeah, I likely do.  

"That's because I am sad. I'd known that vampire a long, long time. He was like a brother to me," I confirm, feeling a lump rise in my throat again. This is where I curse my emotions totally, wishing I was as dead inside as any other vampire, wishing my humanity wasn't so highly evolved as it is.

"I know, and it's just so terrible. He didn't do anything wrong, and now he's dead. I want to go and see Edie. May I have Charles and Ursula's address please? Or could you take me there so I can see her?" she asks gently, putting her arms around my neck and stroking my dreadlocks. I always find it soothing when she plays with them.

"I have to go to work, but they won't mind you going round later. Ursula has actually gone to ground because she can't bear the stress, so EZ told me on the phone, but he also told me Edie is out cold at the moment, sleeping off a big dose of very ancient vampire blood. I dunno, maybe wait until she calls you?" I suggest, watching my girl nod.

"How bad was she then, when she found out?"  

"EZ described her reaction as beyond hysteria, if that helps.” She winces, moving into my arms. "Sorry, I shouldn't have been quite so graphic there."  

"No, no it's okay, you're just being truthful. I know you vampires don't really know how to sugar the pill, so I don't blame you for that," she replies, resting her forehead to mine.

"I have to get moving soon, I need to open up the shop," I lament, not really feeling like going to work, but knowing I have to. Angel's clients will be all turning up as well as mine for one thing, and I have to inform them that of course, he's not available to tattoo them. Not now, and not ever.

"Are you sure? I'll go and open up if you want, relay the news to Sal and rebook any clients of yours and try and do the same for Angel's too," she offers. What a diamond she is, wanting to do that for me.

"No honey, work will take my mind off it. It's probably the best place for me right now. I'll only do something stupid like trying to hunt down his killer and splatter their guts from one side of Las Vegas to the other," I scoff bitterly. If I got my hands on whoever killed him… oh they'd suffer. I'd fuck them up for hours on end before chaining them up and leaving the sun to burn them away. I get a lump rise in my throat, suddenly wondering if that’s what they did to my friend.  

"Okay. Well, I'm going to call Ahmed and Miley, to tell them what's happened, save poor Edie having to do it and then I'll still come with you to work, for anything you need me for." What would I fucking do without this wonderful woman? I’m glad I don’t have to find out, Sasha kissing me again and whispering 'I love you'. I say the same back and give her another kiss before we head inside, and I prepare to leave for the shop while she calls her friends. When we arrive, I find Sal is already there, and by the look of him I'd say it's a fair guess that EZ has told him. He looks about eight or nine shades angrier than usual.

"The TVM will go down for this, bro. For what they did to him, mark my motherfucking words," he says bitterly as soon as he turns to look at me.

"We have to let the Cosgrove's handle it, Sal. Believe me, there's nothing more I'd like to do right now than shed a little retribution blood, but there's so much more at play here other than Angel’s death," I lament, watching him look thoughtful for a few moments.

"We have no leads either, none at all. He didn't deserve this." That's all he says on the matter before beginning to set up his station. I look over at Angel's and for a second, I want to go and break it all down, take the machines and the inks and stow them away along with all his pictures and photographs, mainly of Edie. They'd only just found each other and found true love, and now it's been robbed from them, and he's been robbed from Edie permanently. I wish I could hug her right now, the poor girl. I'm staying in touch with her, staying in her life if she wishes me to. I don't know, it might be painful for her to have reminders of Angel around, or she could find them comforting. I can't speak on her behalf. I wanna be there for her, though.

"They were so happy, look at them," Sasha says after wandering over to Angel's station and looking at the pictures of him and Edie pinned to the wall.

"I always thought it was hilarious you know, when he was first released and pursuing a friendship with her. Only Angel could have been interested in a woman who beat him to hell and back, only Angel," I laugh softly, smiling at the memory and feeling a little less sad for a moment.

"I remember how Edie was, so vehement in her stating that she only wanted to be friends with him, while Miley and I were like 'yeah, right'. It'll take her a damn long time to get over this," she states, pointing at another picture of them that was taken on Halloween, of Edie pretending to drive the knife that was part of her costume into Angel's head, and him making a pretend scared face and fighting her off. That was such a fun night.

"Hi, excuse me? I'm Heather Cayson and I have an 8.30pm appointment with Angel," a voice suddenly says behind us. I turn and move to the counter, actually taking a deep breath I don't truly need before I reply.

"I'm afraid that will not be possible sadly. Angel has… he's… he passed away suddenly not long ago, and… and…" I try to explain to her, a huge lump rising in my throat. Curse these human emotions!

"And we can rebook you with either Eric here or Sal in about two weeks on an early evening appointment. Do you have any specific days that'll be convenient to you in the week commencing January 6th? I'm so sorry for your trouble tonight, but like my boyfriend says it only happened very recently." Sasha says, stepping in efficiently and calling up the appointment spreadsheet on the computer, while I dash to the back of the shop and once outside, cry my eyes out. I can't believe one of my best friends is dead, and I don't want to believe it either, but it's the sad and undeniable truth.

Edie's POV

"Edie, Edie? Wake up, querida, wake up." Those words, I hear them so clearly and from a voice I long to hear again, but it can't be true, and this cannot be real. I know this is my mind making me think I'm hearing Angel's voice, and all I want right now is to wake up and not be dreaming about him. When I open my eyes, there he is. My beautiful, beautiful love, the absolute love of my life looking just as I remember him, sitting on the edge of his bed smiling at me.

"This isn't real. It’s just a dream. You’re still gone," I gasp, feeling a lump rising quickly in my throat.

"Yes, I am, but it doesn't mean you're not allowed to dream about me. Unless of course there's some kind of secret dream police I ain’t aware of. Is there?" Instantly, I’m laughing. He was always so good at that, spontaneously making me laugh and a lot of the time not even intending to do so.

"No, there's no dream police, but it hurts me to see you like this, knowing I can never touch you, or speak to you again. You're not really here, you're just a figment of my imagination.”

"Well, I can't make myself go away if that's the case, can I? So, it looks like you're stuck with me until you wake up.” Typical Angel.

"Just as stubborn as ever," I tell him, reaching out and stroking his cheek. I can feel him, feel the coarseness of his beard, and breathing in I can even smell his cologne, but this isn't real.

"And you're just as wonderful as ever. You'll get through this, a life without me in it. I know you will because you're the strongest human I've ever met, and I know that in a way I'll continue to live on too, through you. Through my blood which will beat through your heart forever, you've picked up my strength as well. So, honour me by being strong, you hear me?" he tells me, which I know are the words he'd use if this really was him speaking to me.

"I promise to try." Shutting my eyes for a few moments, I feel my consciousness beginning to come back to me, and when I open my eyes again, I know I'm awake. Where Angel was sitting in my dream is where Icarus is lying, staring right at me.

"Hey handsome boy, hey, how are you?" I ask softly, reaching out to stroke his big ears and having him lick my hands as he always does. I then rest my head back on the pillow, looking at my watch to see its 11pm. He died five hours ago, and my mind just cannot cope with it. It's like it refuses to process that Angel is dead, and that I'll never see him again. I think I'm still in shock. I just want him back. If I'd have known when he was being dragged out of the tattoo shop that that was the last time I'd have ever, ever seen him, it would have taken something much more considerable than an elbow to the cheekbone to make me let go of his arm.

Dragging myself, my weary, sadness filled body from the bed I once shared with my vampire, I head to the window to smoke, suddenly remembering I don't actually need to since he isn't here. I still perch on the end of the couch and throw the window open though, the night breeze hitting me. I light up a cigarette and hold the smoke deep in my lungs, so deep that I get a sudden heart palpitation, followed by another. I then feel something go up in me like a flare. I suddenly feel Angel. This, this can't be, he… he died! I had that clarified to me when Ursula felt the same thing within her that I did. We both felt him die, but now, now I can feel him again.

"Charles, Charles!" I scream as I run from the bedroom after throwing my cigarette out of the open window. The lovely vampire is right in front of me before I know it, holding his hands to my shoulders and looking at me with concern.

"I can feel him, I just felt him! Something like a rocket going off inside my chest, I can feel him, he's alive!" I exclaim to him through my confused tears, wanting him to believe me more than anything. He just shakes his head sadly though.

"No, my dear child, it is not so. He is gone," he replies gently, shaking his head some more.

"But I can feel his energy!" I protest, suddenly seeing Coco appear behind him.

"Charles, if I may deal with this? I have gone through what Edie is experiencing," he offers. The elder vampire looks back at me before turning to Coco and nodding, the younger vampire then escorting me down the stairs and outside.

"Coco, I can feel him alive inside me, I feel his energy. It's weak, I'll be straight with you there, but I can feel him!" I state forcefully, again being met with a shaking head.

"I'm so sorry, Edie, but it is not Angel that you feel. It's your body, and the blood of his left within you playing a trick on you. You want so desperately to feel him, to believe he hasn't gone. It's your body reacting to the loss to try and soothe you with his essence, and I know this because it happened to me when I lost a human I was blood tied to, and in love with.  

“A very, very long time ago, and against all reason in a vampire of my age, which was fifty-three at the time, I fell in love with a human. Her name was Tina, and she lived in Galveston, where I of course resided for a time. I don't want to get into the ins and outs of the story, pardon me for being rude but that's none of your business, but I was with her for three years until she drowned in a surfing accident. It was in the daytime, so I didn't even know until I awoke and couldn't feel her any longer," he begins to explain, while I cut in.

"I don't expect you to reveal your personal and private memories to me, you're not being rude," I tell him, wanting him to know that.

"Thank you for your understanding. As I was saying, when I awoke, I couldn't feel her there at all, but a few hours after her death I felt the same as you're feeling now, a flare of her energy. It was just her blood tricking me though, and it continued to do so for a few days afterwards until it ceased forever. The same will happen with you, too. Be prepared for this, as it is distressing," he informs me, while I feel the tears beginning to fall down my cheeks again. As a vampire, and one who doesn't know me Coco makes no effort to comfort me, merely staring at me with a slight of a concerned frown. It's at this point that I realise comfort is what I need, and with Ursula in the ground, I know there's only one person I want. I want the closest thing I’ll ever have to a real mother.  

"Sweetie, what are you doing here?" Aileen asks me as soon as I open the control room door down at the CD twenty minutes later, Icarus in tow, who still refuses to leave me. I was chauffeured here by a vampire from the AVA, complete with a bodyguard in the back for safety. Elias is taking this very, very seriously following Angel's death. When Ursula called to inform him earlier, apparently this was what he insisted on, anyone immediately close to the family travelling in an armoured car with a guard. He sent flowers for me and Ursula within the hour as well, I noticed them on the table before Coco took me outside, but I was too preoccupied by what I thought I could feel at the time.

"I just wanted my mom," I sob, the waves of sadness hitting me all over again.  

"Oh, Edie, come here, my buba," she coos softly, standing up and holding her arm out for me, wrapping it around me tightly and kissing my cheek three times in a row before simply holding me. I cry into her long, blonde ponytail, feeling like something within me just completely broke. I'm glad the vampires in the Chrysler downstairs said they'd wait as long as they needed to, because I'm in no fit state to leave at the moment.

"Tyrell told me what happened, but how?" she then asks gently. Of course, she doesn't know anything about the trouble with Ursula.

"I don't know how, but I know why. There's a lot going on in his world, or what used to be his world. I can't tell you, I’m sorry. I'll be able to when it's over, though," I explain through my tears.

She nods in understanding, suddenly looking more concerned. "Are you in some kind of trouble, or danger in all of this?"

"I could be, but don't worry. The chief of Nevada is looking after us. There are a couple of vampires waiting in a car downstairs for me. It feels horrible, knowing the only vampire I ever want to be waiting for me outside work never will again." I dissolve into further tears as she steers me into a seat, taking out her hipflask and passing it to me before grabbing hold of my hand. I'm too overcome sobbing with my head down on the table to drink the whiskey in my hand right away, but after taking a deep breath I knock a big swig of it back. I start crying again as soon as I've swallowed it though, and I cry non-stop.

My tears last past the end of the shift, Aileen calling Ahmed up as soon as 3am rolls around. I then cry in his arms as he carries me out to the car, sobbing on his shoulder as the car takes me back to my place. I don't want to go back to Angel's, it's too painful right now. The vampire in the back gives me a card with his number on, telling me to call as soon as I need to go anywhere, and to obviously not allow any vampire I do not know enter my home before we get out.

As soon as I open the door Icarus runs out and straight up to my house, while I trudge up the path holding onto Ahmed's arm like a lost soul, tears still streaming down my face. I then sit in his arms on my bed with I guess who is now my big grey wolf next to me, crying myself to sleep.  

I just want him back.