#i cant live in peace without angst can i

[savesavva]

in addition to that one post about janus's dolls

[motherjoel]

arms tonite (joel miller/reader)

summary: basically its YOU who gets stabbed by the baseball bat. joel isnt good with feelings. david does not exist david cant hurt anybody. a bit of angst and a bit of fluff. also LOOSELY based on arms tonite by mother mother

a/n: yawlllllll it has been a MINUTE but i am back for some tlou cause i just really wanted to write for these characters i love so very much. i apologize if the timing of their travel is fucked, i truly have no concept of geography so we can ignore that.

wc: 3.5k

warnings: just general tlou gore, nothin too bad

-

-

You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment you fell in love with Joel Miller. But as you lay here, Joel's hands soaked in your blood as he attempted to stop it from pulsating out of your abdomen, you knew it was love that you were feeling. It was supposed to be simple. After your brief stay in Jackson, the two of you were supposed to take Ellie to the fireflies. Yet, nothing seemed to be simple these days, especially not around this girl.

In the amount of time the three of you had spent together, you developed an unbreakable bond. Ellie became a sort of surrogate sister to you- you’d lost your family when you were just a kid during the outbreak and you never had the chance to become a big sister. At least not for long. And then there was Joel. You weren’t quite sure what he meant to you yet, but you’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t die for him. For both of them, really- a life without them wasn’t worth living. Of course, you never planned on telling them that.

The day started fairly nice- with Joel allowing Ellie to make her own decision about who would be taking her to the fireflies. Sure, you and Ellie would be fine with Tommy, but Joel had failed to consider the bond the three of you shared when making this decision. He was thinking of only himself and his fear- this is what you had told him last night after his fight with Ellie.

“What the hell was that?” you asked him after he stormed out of Ellie’s temporary room. 

“It was nothin’. Doesn’t concern you,” he replied, brushing past you as he made his way to the couch where he decided to set up camp for the night. 

“Um, it sure as hell does concern me, Joel. Are you seriously going to abandon us? After everything we’ve been through, after how much that girl trusts you, Joel!” you raised your voice a bit, trying to keep yourself from alerting Ellie upstairs. Those words stung him a bit. He didn’t see it as abandonment- he saw it as protection. After everything you went through together, he never once put himself first.

“She doesn’t know a thing about what this means,” Joel turned to you. “She- she’s just a kid, she-” he stopped himself, trying to gather himself. “I can’t bring her. I’m not capable, I’m slowin’ down and I just can’t. Do. It,” he exhaled, dropping himself onto the couch. 

“Wow,” you replied, softly sitting next to him. “You’re really underestimating yourself,” you sighed, Joel, lifting his face to look at you. “I mean, not only yourself but me, Joel. In case you’d forgotten, I’ve gotten myself through some tough shit. And Ellie? Man, she's the toughest kid I’ve ever met. Hell, she's one of the toughest people I’ve ever met,” you said, observing Joel’s worn face. “I mean… don't you think she at least deserves a choice?” you asked, hoping to convince Joel to come to his senses and realize who he was.

“I’ll take the couch. Bedrooms down the hall,” he grumbled before turning his back to you and lying down. There was nothing left you could say at this point, so you decided to spare yourself and make your way to the bedroom. The bed was pretty big. It could’ve fit two people.

The moment you saw Joel in the stables the next morning, you could feel your heart soar. Before he said a word, you knew he had made the right decision. The three of you squeezed onto the horse, Ellie sandwiched in the middle, and you were off. You and Joel sat in peaceful silence for a while, occasionally responding to Ellie’s rambling to show you were listening. Before you knew it, you were arriving at the so-called firefly base. 

“What the fu-” you started.

“Holy shit! Are those monkeys?” Ellie exclaimed, pointing at the crowd of animals before you.

“Must be from the old labs,” Joel muttered, a hint of interest in his voice

“Look at them go!” you giggled.

“First time seein’ a monkey?” Joel asked the two of you. 

“First time seein' a monkey,” you replied in unison, both awestruck. A smile crept onto Joel's face at this- the togetherness he felt in rare moments like this is what kept him going. 

You soon came across the fireflies symbol painted on a couple of signs, but no guards appeared nearby. You all dismounted the horse before making your way inside, guns drawn. You in the back, Joel in the front, and Ellie sandwiched between yet again. The building you came across was abandoned from the looks of it, with papers scattered about. 

“They just left,” Joel said, coming across a packing list among the scattered supplies. You suddenly heard a clang from another room, drawing your attention.

“Maybe not all of them,” you replied as the three of you carefully moved towards the sound. Your heart picked up its pace- whatever was in that room couldn’t be a firefly. Maybe a raider, you thought, which didn’t help your anxieties. Joel put a finger to his lips before opening the door, signaling for your silence. Relief rushed through you as you saw the source of the noise was just a few stray monkeys. It was only moments later that you heard voices- voices that certainly didn’t come from an animal. Peering out the window, the three of you saw a group of men, presumably raiders.

“Shit,” you murmured, instinctively grabbing Ellie’s arm.

“Out the back,” said Joel, leading the way for the three of you to make your escape. You ducked behind some sandbags for a moment before making your break to the horse. As Joel untied the horse, you heard footsteps quickly making their way over to you.

“Joel!” Ellie screamed as the man swung his bat at his head, hitting it on a tree and breaking it in two. While Joel dodged his attack you jumped on the man and banged him into the tree behind him before he knocked you back on your ass, banging your head on the ground. You’ve had your fair share of concussions, and you knew that's exactly what just happened to you. Joel quickly recovered from the first attack before grabbing the man, a wave of anger in his eyes as you’ve never seen before. His arm tightened around the man's throat, unrelenting in its strength. Struggle as he may, it wasn’t long before his neck was snapped. You remain on the ground, adrenaline pumping through your veins as you look at Ellie, shakily holding her gun. Her eyes darken as they shift down to your stomach. Your eyes follow hers and you finally see what she’s looking at. When the man hit the bat into the tree, it must've snapped in half. One half was on the ground a few feet away from you, while, unfortunately, the other half was buried in your stomach.

“Shit,” Ellie said, lowering her gun and walking over to you. Your hand reached down, adrenaline still pumping through your body, and you instinctively pulled the wooden piece out of your abdomen. You barely even felt it. Joel was silent the entire time, and you couldn’t quite tell what he was thinking. You threw it aside before noticing three more men coming your way. As fast as possible, Joel hiked himself up onto the horse and grabbed you while Ellie pushed from the ground before pulling herself up, you now sitting between the two. Joel didn’t let himself focus on the anxiety in his chest that blurred his vision- he needed to get you both to safety.

“Fuck,” you sighed, adrenaline wearing off a bit and pain seeping in. 

“Go!” Ellie yelled to Joel as you began to move. She grabbed her gun and shot backward at the men- she didn’t have the best aim, but it certainly deterred them from advancing anymore. Ellie kept peering over her shoulder, on high alert. If you weren’t putting all of your focus on staying conscious, you’d have noticed her slight tremble. You would have noticed Joel's body tense when your breathing slowed, his occasional glance over his shoulder. His erratic heartbeat as he tried to keep you talking.

“We’re gonna get back to Jackson and we’re gonna get some help,” Joel said over his shoulder. There wasn’t a hint of emotion in his voice- he was excellent at hiding how he truly feels. 

“No,” you uttered, using all of your strength.

“Sorry, no?” Joel questioned.

“Get her to the fireflies,” you whispered before your vision began to blur. Your lifeless body crumpled off the horse, Ellie attempted to hold on but it all happened too fast. The cold snow was stained red, the warm blood leaving your body melting the snow directly beneath you. Joel and Ellie quickly hopped down, one on each side of you. 

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Ellie panicked, hands shakily reaching towards your abdomen. 

“Ellie,” Joel said, voice laced with panic. He motioned for her to grab his pack while he placed his hands onto the wound, blood seeping through the gaps in his fingers. He had never felt so helpless in his life- at least, not since Sarah. That same shuddered breathing coming from a person he loves- he couldn’t bear it.

“Joel, what the fuck do we do,” she asked. Joel continued to silently work on packing your wound with an extra flannel he had in his bag.

“It’s ok,” you croaked. They immediately turned to you on the ground, almost stopping in their tracks. “Just help me to that house,” you said, motioning towards a house about 50 yards away. You were struggling to breathe under the pressure of Joel’s hands on your wound- it almost seemed useless, you were still losing blood like crazy. Joel tied the flannel around your waist to try to keep the blood from seeping out. Once he decided you were situated, he picked you up bridal style and led you to the house. When you arrived, they gently placed you at the entrance, Ellie staying with you while Joel made sure the house was clear. He returned to help you inside, lying you on an old mattress. You let out a small laugh as you got situated.

“What?” Joel asked, a hint of irritation in his voice. How could you be laughing right now?

“Don’tcha think it's kinda cute?” you asked as he fussed with your bandages.

“What’s that?” he asked gruffly, not exactly in the mood for your attitude.

“Oh, just that I might be dying in your arms tonight. I dunno, feels like a movie,” you said, your pale lips curling into a smile. He gave you a look, pausing briefly to peer into your eyes. You wordlessly pleaded with him to lighten the mood a bit, for Ellie’s sake. He didn't say a word.

“Joel, what the fuck do we do?” Ellie repeated herself in her panic.

“It’s ok. You guys go. Now,” you said. Joel's eyebrows furrowed at this. “You leave, go north. Go to Tommy.”

“Um, the fuck?” Ellie asked. “I don’t know what you think this is but we're not leaving,” Ellie said, frustration creeping into her voice. She looked hurt by this, and it broke your heart. Were you doing the same thing Joel had done just last night?

“The kids right,” Joel said as you turned to look at him. “You’re either comin' with us or we're all campin’ here for the night. No in-between” Joel finished. You pleaded to him with your eyes again, begging him to just give up on you. The two of them would be fine, you knew it. But you didn’t know the emotional toll it would have taken on the stubborn man in front of you. He was stubborn, but so were you. Only you didn’t get a chance to prove just how stubborn you could be before you couldn’t fight the darkness that crept into your vision. 

-

You woke with a start the next morning. You often woke in a panic these days, but the feeling was only further cemented when you realized you didn’t quite recognize your surroundings. The only thing you could recognize was Joel’s eyes on you, which brought you some semblance of comfort. When he noticed you awake, he rushed to your side. As much as you could imagine Joel to “rush.”

“Hey, you uh, awake. You’re awake,” he said softly, trying not to wake Ellie asleep in the corner of the same dilapidated room you’d been in for a while now. 

“It would appear so,” you replied, attempting to sit up a bit.

“Hey, hey, relax,” he put his hand on your shoulder, urging you to lay back down. “Your infections bad. We managed to trade for some penicillin but it's not gonna be enough. We gotta figure out how to get you back to Jackson,” Joel said, lightly lifting your shirt to look at the wound.

 You cursed the heat rising to your face as Joel's fingers brushed your bare skin. You’d never been intimate like this before, though this was barely intimacy. He hadn’t ever touched your skin like this- with such delicacy. You were fragile to him at this moment, and you needed to be handled with care. You hated being a burden, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel nice to be taken care of for once.

You were too busy focusing on your own reaction to this gesture to notice Joels. His hands shook as he cared for your wound, wincing as he saw that it really wasn’t getting any better. He didn’t know what this meant- he wasn’t a doctor by any means, but he knew this wasn’t good. 

You were in and out of sleep throughout the next day or two, letting the dull, throbbing pain lull you into sleep. It hurt to watch Joel and Ellie worry about you, especially because there was nothing you could do to help. Your days felt numbered- the amount of penicillin was scarce and you weren’t feeling any better. You barely had the strength to keep your eyes open, much less speak. 

“Joel,” you managed to croak- you couldn’t even spare the energy to seethe at the pain pulsating throughout your body.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” he replied, kneeling next to you. He only called you sweetheart when he needed something- what did he need from you now? To live? “Whatcha need?”

“You’re special, you know that?” you whispered, a tear rolling down your cheek.

“And why is that?” he asked, wiping the tear.

“You really know how to make a girl fall in love,” you smiled- this isn’t something you ever planned on telling him, but as you lie there, vision blurring around the edges as the darkness caved in on you, there was nothing else you wanted to say.

Joel felt panic consume him when your eyes closed.

“Hey, hey darlin’, wake up for me, okay?” he pleaded. Ellie stalked over, panic heating her chest. “Ellie, grab her legs,” Joel said. It was like he was kicked into a new gear- he was going to do whatever it took to keep you with him.

-

You didn’t know where you were. The walls were unfamiliar and white- stark and sterile. The first thing you noticed was the couch in the corner of the room, occupied by your two favorite people. Joel sat upright, arms crossed and eyes closed. His brows were furrowed like he was having some sort of nightmare. Ellie’s expression mirrored his, as she lay on her side with her head resting on his leg, arms curled into her chest. Your heart warmed at the sight- he was becoming a father figure to her, as much as he didn’t want to admit it. You tried to sit up, failing immediately as pain shot through your body. You winced, perhaps a little too loud, as Joel’s eyes shot open. Ellie remained in a deep sleep on his lap.

“You’re up,” he acknowledged, almost like it was too good to be true. He carefully shifted his body so he could move Ellie from his lap and onto the couch before he stood to walk towards you. “She hasn’t gotten much sleep, be best not to wake her,” he said, leaning down to brush a hair from her face. Seeing him be this gentle with her melted your heart. 

“How, um, how long was I out?” you asked, lifting the sheets to see your wound. It was covered and clean, but you knew it was there from the way it throbbed.

“About a week. Scared the shit out of… the kid,” he said, sitting on the edge of your bed. He bit back what he truly wanted to say- you scared the shit out of him. But he wasn’t going to admit that you had that much of an impact on him. The second he lets others affect his life is the second he gets weak. There wasn’t a place for vulnerability in this world. “It was, a, uh, miracle that you lived.”

“Oh yeah?” your eyebrows raised. “Shit. I’m sorry for worrying… her,” you glanced at Ellie again as she snuggled into the couch. “How did I, um how did you guys get me here?” you asked. Your voice was hoarse from lack of use, but you tried to remain strong.

“We, uh, we gotcha back on the horse. Ellie led the way, I made sure you were safe, I mean, I just made sure you didn’t fall,” he replied, looking at his feet. “Took us awhile to get back, I… I didn't think you were gonna make it,” he replied, coughing to cover up the break in his voice. He was still in disbelief that you even woke up.

“Well, it looks like you’re stuck with me,” you laughed weakly. Then it was silent for a few moments, the two of you stewing in your thoughts. “You know, I think if it had been anybody else with me, I would’ve just died,” you remarked. Joel shook his head.

“Well, that’s not true. You’re strong” he said quietly.

“Well, yeah, sure I’m strong. But I can choose not to be. I honestly would’ve been fine to die if it was in your arms. But I couldn’t do that to you. Not… not again,” you paused, gathering your thoughts. “It’s just… you’re it for me, Joel. You and Ellie- you guys are it. And if I can’t have you guys, well, let's just say I wouldn’t mind staying asleep,” you confessed, avoiding eye contact.

“Ahem…” you heard Ellie clear her throat from her position on the couch. “Sorry, I have a habit of snooping, but holy shit you’re awake!” she squealed, bouncing over to you and plopping herself onto you in a hug. She knocked the wind out of you, and you may have cared if you weren’t so happy to see her.

“Hey, hey, easy on her now,” Joel said, pulling Ellie back from you a bit. He was still quiet, processing what you had just said to him.

“Ahhh, my sweet Ellie girl, how I missed you so,” you smiled, pinching her cheeks.

“Bullshit, you were definitely just dreaming about Joel the whole time. Must’ve been nice, sleeping that long,” she laughed. You ignore the first part of her sentence.

“Yeah, I guess I’m pretty well rested,” you smiled, ruffling her hair and pulling her into another hug.

“I’m gonna go get someone, a nurse,” Ellie excused herself from the room, leaving you with Joel yet again.

“I’m sorry if that was too mu-” you started before Joel cut you off.

“No, no, don’t apologize, sweetheart,” he said softly. It wasn’t a whisper- it was just soft. He’d been so soft with you. “I… I can’t say I don’t feel the same,” he looked down at his shoes.

“Oh, uh, you do?” you blushed. You felt so childish, like you were admitting you had a crush on him, but it was more than that. It was a partnership, a dependency- a loyalty to one another that didn’t need a label. Only, you couldn’t hide the way you felt anymore.

“Gosh, I can’t even tell you how it felt to see you like that. It should’ve been me, you know,” he said, disappointment evident on his features.

“Um, no, it shouldn’t have. Besides, how would we have gotten your big ass back to Jackson?” you giggled, grabbing his hand. His expression changed then as he looked down at your intertwined hands. “Joel, what does this mean?” you asked.

He chose not to respond with words- they were never his strong suit. Without a word, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your lips. It was soft and it was sweet and it was like nothing you had ever experienced before- not from someone you loved. You reciprocated, weaving a hand into his hair to pull him closer.

“Yeah, they’re just in here-woahhhhhhh!” Ellie yelled, giggling and running out of the room. Joel quickly pulled back and pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

“That little shit,” he sighed.

“Well, she was gonna have to find out somehow,” you giggled, pressing a kiss to his bruised knuckles.

[etoiile]

WHAT MAYBE COULD HAVE BEEN

starring nagi seishiro!

synopsis: nagi has a nice life. its peaceful and he needn't work too hard, just like he likes it. sometimes, though, every once in a while, he sits around with his regrets thinking about what maybe could have been.

notes: i tried to write angst but it didnt rly work lolol

nagi is, for the most part, pretty content with his life.

its kind of a no-think-just-do kind of thing, which he quite enjoys. he goes to his 9-5 office job, comes back, tends to choki, eats dinner, plays games for a few hours, and goes to bed. then, the cycle repeats. its basic, sure, but there's nothing wrong with that.

except that there's, well, everything wrong with that.

now, don't get him wrong. he's grateful for his relatively leisurely life and enjoys the slow pace. he's a lazy guy, after all. a life full of action and emotion just wouldnt be very him.

but still, every so often, nagi will find himself wondering, daydreaming, thinking, about what maybe could have been.

about what maybe could have been if he decided to go pro with isagi and reo and chigiri and them. maybe then, he could be rich and famous. his mind could be surpassing limits and soaring to new heights. he could be a renowned soccer player like that.. noel no.. something.. guy? the really good one on tv that chigiri was talking about. he could be an inspiration to millions!

nah, nagi doesnt need wealth nor fame. hes fine with the humble lifestyle he leads. plus, part of the reason he enjoys said lifestyle is because he doesnt need to do much thinking. his brain can just relax and be lazy. in some ways, its better this way. thinking is such a hassle!

but then, he thinks about what maybe could have been if he'd tried harder in school. he could be working a high-paying job and could be living in a house. choki could have a family and he'd be able to spend more freely. think of all the games he could buy that he cant afford on his corporate salary.

again, nah. he still did pretty well in school without much effort. a corporate job may not be fancy, but its good work. plus, what would he even be doing with a house? his apartment has all the space he needs, and choki's thriving on his own! he doesnt need cactus friends. plus, having to care for a house and more cactuses would be such a hassle. not to mention the work you have to put in for a higher-paying job.

but sometimes, he thinks about what maybe could have been if he kept in touch with his friends from blue lock. he could still have late-night talks with chigiri, and spend quality time at the park with isagi. then, he could actually hangout with people. reo's away pretty often, so they dont hang much.

once more, nah! nagi's plenty happy with choki, reo, and the coworkers that hes become friendly with. he's an introvert, after all. too many friends would become too exhausting, and it would zap the peacefulness out of his peaceful life. even being with reo is a hassle sometimes.

all of it is a hassle. he's fine with the way everything turned out, really.

but afterwards, once he's lying in his bed, trying to submit to slumber, he finds himself really, really thinking about what maybe could have been.

about what maybe could have been if he hadn't decided that you, too, were a hassle.

about what maybe, just maybe, could have been if he picked up your phone calls every time, even when he was gaming. about what maybe could have been if he took time out of his day for you and only you. about what maybe could have been if he said 'i love you' more, and comforted and reassured you. about what maybe could have been if he valued you. treasured you. treated you right.

about what maybe could've been if he'd done all of it right. then maybe, just maybe, he could be playing the match of his life right now, with you cheering him on in the sidelines, crying out his name, waiting to go home to a place you deserve to be with a whole choki family.

about what maybe could've been if he just didnt declare it all to be a hassle, and maybe he could've touched the stars.

but for now, nagi sleeps. he has to go to his 9-5 tomorrow, after all.

𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐈𝐈𝐋𝐄 ©𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 please do not copy or repost my work on any other site. interactions appreciated! 🤍

[secret-smut-sideblog]

I Should Hate You

Ascended Astarion x F! Tav

18+ confrontation, implied trauma/abuse, talks of death, ANGST, blood drinking, fighting (verbal), astarion being rough (physical), threats of violence against self, crying, tenderness, exes getting back together, dubcon, implied lack of control during sex, oral (f!), forced orgasm (kinda), disassociation

Tired of living in constant vigilance and fear, Tav has to confront the Vampire Lord. Even if it means her end. What she doesn't expect is the Ascendant doesn't want her dead at all...

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

-

"This is a bad idea, Tav."

"I know."

"Then don't go."

Shadowheart's wide green eyes stared deep into her. Hands cupped around her face.

"I cant-" Tav sighed, closing her eyes. "I can't live in fear anymore. Of him. Of what he might do when he finds me."

"We can leave the Sword Coast, we can go. Forever."

"That's not the point. And I wouldn't ask that of you."

"You could." Shadowheart's voice caught, planting soft kisses on her mouth. "You could ask me for anything."

"I know." Tav smiled warmly, leaning into her. Pressing their foreheads together. "I'm sorry."

They both knew what this meant. A life would be taken. Either her's, his, or both. She couldn't see an outcome without death either way. That made her heart ache but she couldn't go on this way.

Always in the shadows, skirting around the edge of society. How ironic, that she had refused his blood, his vampirism, but still lived like one. Even months on, walking with a hood on. Shrouded. Eyes down. Never looking at faces too long.

Who knew there was so much shame in freedom?

No it had to be this way. The last thread he had tied to her wrist must be severed.

She was not afraid to die. She hadn't been afraid for a long time. It wouldn't do any good to start now.

The streets looked as angelic in the soft lamplight as she had remembered. Cobblestones and passersby's. Hushed chatter from corners where couples stood. Rich as an oil painting.

Standing in shadow she took long deep breaths. Committing this view, this feeling to memory. Peace. The perfect intimacy of night.

Took a long steadying breath out.

Okay.

She lifted the hood off of her head, walking out into the soft light. Stood in it for one reverent moment. Knew it wouldn't take long. He had eyes everywhere.

She made a pointed look out, at the faces of men and animals alike. Come get me.

Walked on sure feet into the Elfsong.

"What can I do you fo-"

"Wait. It's you! Our hero! Welcome back, love!"

She smiled sheepishly. Reaching for her coinpurse.

"Ah, come on. I'm just a patron for tonight. One room, please."

"Come off it! No charge for you. I wish I could rent you your old lodgings but we've got a great room for you otherwise. Top floor!"

She smiled. Hopefully, they wouldn't have too much blood to clean up. "That sounds perfect, thank you Alan."

They chatted amicably as he led her up. Handing her the keys with a friendly clasp over her hands.

"If you need anything, anything at all. Truly don't hesitate."

The door closed solidly behind her, she kicked off her shoes. Lighting an oil lamp. Hanging her cloak.

Knew he was waiting, could feel it on the air.

If she was going to die she could at least be comfortable. Slipping into a long silk night shirt.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Okay.

She opened the window, the night air sweet and promising. Billowing the curtains gently. Turned to the vanity and sat down. Eyes closed.

The presence behind her was unmistakable.

Fingers caressing along her collarbone. Picking up the cut ends of her hair.

She shivered, eyes still closed.

"You know, you still feel like him." She hushed, wonder and sadness melded in her voice. "That's the cruelest part. If I could just pretend..."

She opened her eyes, his torso reflected in the mirror. "But I can see you."

"You always could, darling."

She laughed solemnly. "I think I was always pretending, wasn't I? Pretending that you loved me."

"Look at me, Tav."

"Why?" She asked, genuine confusion in her voice. "What good would that do? We both know why you're here." Her eyes steady on his body reflected behind her.

Felt him move before his reflection caught up with him.

Fingers rough on her chin, pulling her face up.

"Look at me."

Her eyes snapped up to his, full of contempt.

He looked... bad. Still perfectly manicured, of course, but with dark purple circles marred under his eyes. Skin pallid. Twitchy. An air of something barely controlled.

"You really did kill everyone, didn't you?" She hushed, jaw clenching under his hold.

He stared down at her, eyes scanning. Dark around his shrunken pupils, that deep red when he hadn't fed in a while.

"Where have you been?"

She stood, his fingers still on her chin. Reached up and held onto his forearm. Not pulling away but not leaning in.

"Away."

He laughed coldly. "Away. Right."

"Why are you here, Lord Ancunin?"

His eyes cut deadly to hers then. Stepping closer.

She stood her ground, feet spread.

Their eyes level with each other.

"I'm here to take back what is mine."

"You still think I'm your spawn, don't you? Didn't you have enough courtesan's to fuck and bleed? Or did you kill them too?"

His hand snapped down around her throat. Breathing hard through his nose.

She stared back, unflinching.

"I'm not afraid of you." She whispered. Aware those words could be her last.

His eyes flared, the muscle in his jaw popping.

His hand flashed forward and ripped the hidden dagger tied to her thigh away. Throwing it across the room.

"I want you back." His voice low, dangerous. Strained.

"I tried to replace you." He lifted her onto the vanity. The bottles crashing to the floor. "None of them. None of them were enough."

She stared up at him, trying to hide the shock in her face. Why was he saying this?

"Tav," He moaned, leaning into her neck. Fingers twisting her hair. Pushing between her legs.

Her body betrayed her then. It felt like him. Smelled like him. Her eyes falling closed.

"Oh Gods, Tav." He groaned, gripping her waist. Licking a hot line up her neck.

"It's not you." She said quietly to herself. Trying to break the spell. "You're not my love."

"Please, Tav." He moaned, hiking her nightgown up over her thigh. "Please, I'm so hungry." The bare need in his voice making her belly flip.

"Why? Why are you doing this?" Her eyes prickled with angry tears. Gripping him tighter to her.

"I want you. I need you." His mouth pushed against her throat. "Please don't make me beg."

She was lost. Why was he asking for permission? Why was he asking at all?

This was not what she had envisioned. She had planned for everything but this.

And still, his hands, shaking and needful, pulled at her. How could this stranger pantomime him so well?

Before the words even left her mouth she knew it was a mistake.

"Starlight?"

He pressed his head into her, moaning low. Biting down desperately.

Fuck.

She gripped his arm, gasping. The familiar ice piercing her neck. The stark realization that she was now the meal of a starving animal. He was going to bleed her to her last drop.

Her mind raced as the gentle euphoria tried to take her. Something she used to treasure now lulling her into a false safety. She had fallen into a bear trap, neck first.

He was going to bleed her dry and change her. Make her his property, his puppet. She had to think fast.

She clenched her hand into a fist and arced it back as hard as she could, the mirror shattering against her back.

He was slow, lost in her throat. Only reacting when she held a shard of glass between them. Pressed to the other side of her neck.

"Release." She warned.

He paused, still latched on. Eyes moving fast between her hand, clamped down around the shard, blood dripping onto her nightgown. Her neck. Her eyes. Calculating.

"You know I'll do it. Release." She pressed the shard hard into her skin. The bite of the glass against her jugular.

He unlatched with a growl, lifting her off of the vanity and throwing her on the bed with inhuman strength. Catching her wrist tightly and throwing the shard hard against the wall. Shattering into a thousand tiny pieces.

"There he is." She hissed. "The Lord Ancunin."

"You are coming back with me."

"You may take my body. You can hurt me, fuck me till I bleed, I don't care. You've done worse. But you will not have me." She laughed coldly. "My heart died with you years ago. But my will is mine."

She sat up on knees, eyes level with his again. Filled with fury. That same fury before she fell.

"You have killed me a thousand times, in little cuts you bled me. Of my hope. My love. It is spilled everywhere in that castle."

Her voice rising. "I have loved you through every tortuous night. Praying and PLEADING to every god that you could love me back. You were my everything. And you tricked me. Tricked me into thinking you could hold me above anything more than a fucking plaything! How dare you come to me and ask for more!"

Tears streaming angry down her face, holding her already bruising wrists up in a mock tie.

"Go on! Take! Take more from me! That's all you have for me, right?! That's our future! Take until I am NOTHING Astarion!"

Their joined breath was heavy in the tense silence as her words cracked through the air.

He stared at her, huffing hard. His chest rising and falling.

"If you force me, I will kill us both and burn that castle to ashes. I swear it." Closing her eyes, the old pain rocking through her again. Her wrists phantom stinging. "Don't make me do this, Astarion. I dont want to hurt you. Please dont make me."

Gripping at his arms, the grief poured out of her in a flood. Her face turning away from his in shame. "Why? Why couldn't it be different with me? You told me you loved me. I could have hated you. It would have been so much kinder to let me hate you. Why did you tell me you loved me?"

Her eyes opened and stared at him through thick water. Demanding an answer. "Did I not do enough? Did I not love you enough? What did I do to deserve this?"

He stared at her, bloody tears leaking from his eyes. Face cold as marble.

His warm hand cupped her cheek. Thumb wiping gingerly at the stream of grief.

"What have I done to you, my sweet?"

She flinched away from his touch on instinct.

His other hand came to cup her face.

"Please don't do that." He whispered, a vein of agony in his voice.

She could not trust this touch. Yet she yearned so desperately to be held by him again.

"Why are you being kind to me?" She laced her fingers through his, still pressed to her cheek.

"Because I-," He started, a hollow pain in his voice. "I'm sorry."

She shook her head, eyes squeezing shut painfully. "No. Don't do that."

"I'm sorry, my love."

She choked back a sob. "Stop."

"I'm so sorry."

She kissed him to silence him. Gasping against his frightfully warm mouth. This wasn't him. She chanted in her mind. This wasn't him.

He threaded his hand through her hair, those familiar lips sliding against hers.

Why did he taste the same, feel the same? Those curls still soft against her seeking hands.

A new stream of tears flowing from her closed eyes. How cruel, for him to be as he was.

"Please, I want to pretend again." She urged, pulling at his doublet, the buttons giving in to her need. "Be sweet to me just one more time, Starlight."

He moaned out a mournful cry into her mouth. Hands pulling her nightgown over her head. "I will do anything for you, my treasure." Laying her back against the sheets. "Please let me show you."

She felt traitorous shivers go up her spine. He was still too beautiful. The silks and pressed linens of his doublet open, revealing the pale plane of his chest. Eyes so strikingly red, lashes long. Irises coursing with her ruby blood. Lips full and pouted. That soft pleading in his eyes.

"Yes, Star." Blinking away tears. "Let me believe you love me." She hushed, her lip trembling.

He kissed down her neck, hands drinking her in. Leaning his pelvis into her spread legs. The hard of his clothed length rubbing against her center.

She was lost in him again, eyes closing. Tight with tears. It had been so long.

His touch intoxicating, pulling the silk of need from her. Tongue crushed velvet against her writhing torso.

"Yes," She urged, head thrown back.

He ran his hot tongue down the sensitive skin inside her thigh, lidded eyes meeting hers. Snapping his doublet open with quick fingers and pulling it fluidly over his head.

"I need you." She whispered. It was never fair, what he did to her.

His eyes suddenly burned out red from the pupil, glowing hot crimson. Mouth falling open, fangs elongating. A rattling in the back of his chest. She realized he had stopped breathing entirely.

A strike of fear pulsed with her arousal. No, this wasn't him. This wasn't a man at all.

"Astarion," She called softly, trying to bring him back.

But he was gone.

His burning eyes darted down to her cunt. Fingernails lengthening into sharp points.

At inhuman speed he dove onto her. Laving hard stripes up and down her center.

She cried out, gripping the sheets. "Fuck," She yelped, already seeing stars.

The onslaught was vicious, his tongue pulsing fast and greedy. Face fully buried in her. Nose pushing up into her clit as he crushed his tongue into her.

Her hips continued to rise in an effort to get away and he only followed, head pushing higher.

"Oh my Gods," She nearly shrieked, the pleasure so intense her body tried to twist away.

He grabbed around her hips and stood on his knees, his ascended strength lifting her entire pelvis up with ease. Her legs falling forward over her chest. Only her shoulder blades still on the bed.

In this new position, he steered her back into his mouth. Burning red eyes glazed over, sharp nails digging into her ass hard enough to break skin. Ten drops of blood dripping down her back.

She clenched her legs together, whimpering loudly. Needing it to stop but her traitor body hungry for more.

He zeroed in on her clit, eyes focusing on her again. Two glowing points in the dim light. That rattling in his chest scaring her and striking a flint of heat through her core.

He clamped down and sucked hard, tongue pulling fast pulses against her engorged clit.

She writhed helplessly, moaning out prey cries. A rabbit caught.

"Please, please, I cant take it-" She whimpered loudly, her limbs tingling hot in warning. The ache in her pelvis nearly breaching.

Her vision went white as it hit her. Shrieking out as a perfect agony thrashed her against the stones. Drowning in the pleasure of his violence. Her body wrenching in a tortuous rhythm. Fucked to oblivion. Arching up, head hanging as he lifted her even higher. The blood rushing to her head threatening black stars in her vision.

"Stop," She gasped as his mouth continued to devour her. "Please, enough."

"Astarion, STOP!"

His eyes dimmed again, the red pulling away he let her drop, blinking. "Oh, oh my treasure. I-"

She curled onto her side. Pulling her legs hard into her body. Shaking and closing her eyes.

She was vaguely aware of him speaking above her but she was gone. Drifting away from her body. Seeing the room from far, far above herself. The world narrowing to a small point.

His hands shaking her brought her crashing back.

"Tav," He urged, looking deep in her eyes. "Tav, please speak to me."

"I want you to go." She whispered, looking foreign at him. "Please, go."

"No, please. I dont know what-"

"If you care as much as you pretend to, then please go."

He bit his lip, eyes scanning her face.

"I will find you again. I will make this right."

She layed her head back down, curling back into herself.

He pulled the sheets and blankets up over her. Pushing a lock of her hair behind her ear.

"I will see you again, my treasure."

And he was gone, whipping up into the wind, out the open window.

Left with the silence of the night, she let the slow tears leak down the side of her face.

What had she started?

~

Part 5

[gamblersdoll]

PUT MY NAME ON IT, NOW IT DESIGNER..5

cw: leading to angst, talks of intimacy.

“cmon ma, dont be that way.” he said, folding his arms and pouted for a quick second. “red is your color!”

“i know, its just dont feel like dressing fancy today, kin.” you said, folding your own arms. it was just his club, so no true reason to get all dolled up. he chuckled, putting his hands on your hips and kissing your head.

“coulda just said that, babydoll. you wanna be comfy then dress comfy, you still sexy as shit.” he said, rubbing your waist and hips. “you havent talked to that little boy recently huh?”

“nope, hes mad about me kickin him out for causing a scene.” you said, throwing on one of his shirts, obviously too big on you.

“does he know i blew bubbles on your pussy after he left?” he asked in your ear, taking a slight nibble. you shook your head no, clit almost throbbing from the recollection of your intimacy. “can smell your pretty pussy drippin’..”

“kinji!” you squealed, getting out of his grip and giggling. “we have to go!” you chuckled, fixing your sweats.

days at his club were somewhat fun and quiet. yeah sure, he would watch a boxing match or look over the scenery of his club, but they had noise canceling walls. you found that out when he had you bent over the couch and plowing into you and no one heard a thing- nor saw it.

and what hakari would do is always have a hand on your hip, kissing up and down your neck as he sat next to you and watch the fight, always but some winning bets he placed. however the room was cool, hakari hated being cold so he wore the thickest jacket so itd give him added on fever. but you hated heat, didnt mix well with it, so he has the AC on sixty nine for you.

“so whered your lil boytoy run off to?” he said, taking a swig at his drink. you shrugged then dropped your shoulders, not hearing from him since that very day, almost four days ago. “oh well.” watching his bet win the fight, winning the bet of at least twenty grand.

you would call it a good day without having to deal with sinji and just at peace. but things were always short lived.

New message!

“come home. we need to talk.”

and talks with sinji were never good. always a shouting match, so you mentally braced yourself. upon opening the door, there was sinji. just sitting, like he always did. hopefully when he did die they would lay him on his stomach to give his ass a break.

hakari helped himself to your home, he was obviously welcomed.

“i dont see why you brought… him.” sinji said, almost disgusted that you brought hakari. “and you cant even kiss me now?”

“not after last time, what you want?” you asked folding your arms. you were already inpatient, wanting this over with and tapping your foot.

“you know how we have that joint account, right?” you raised an eyebrow, along with hakari. hakari knew you dont share accounts, so why now? obviously this punk ass obviously made you do it, which made his blood boil.

“yeah? the one you made us get even though i didnt want to.” you said snarky. you saw sinji’s jaw clench, but it was short lived and pressed about it. “what about it?”

“you either spent twenty grand or someone has your information. and you can check my account too, i dont have anything.” he said, handing you his phone. you checked yours, him being correct and seeing that your saving of twenty grand had been taken out.

you felt your heart drop, pacing back and forth with phone in hand and borderline panicking. hakari tried to console you, yet to no avail.

“i would suggest checking that.. gamblers phone.” sinji said, pointing at him and then looking at you then him. “he should be the first person you ask, since it isnt his first rodeo.”

had hakari been one on one with sinji, if looks could kill, if he could strangle sinji to death, he would. because who the fuck was he accusing?

one thing hakari noticed was when you were frantic, panicking or just not even okay, you were easy to talk into things. a flaw you had, that unfortunately sinji took advantage of. the difference between them? hakari knew how to calm you. a nice bath, hed treat you to whatever sweet shit you wanted, made- no, demanded you to feel like a princess and order him what to do, would talk to you so sweetly and be at your leisure. as for sinji, hed coerce you to do things that can fuck anything up, and hakari could see that shit from next year.

“check his phone, girl.” sinji said, and then hakari rolled his eyes and handed you his phone. you reluctantly took it, knowingly that he couldnt have taken it, he was with you the whole time! and he was getting better… right? he did.

“passcode is yer’ birthday, mama.” he said, taking a swig at his water. he should be drinking a beer, because itll ease him up after beating this bitch of a boy to even think that he had even done it.

you had been wrong, you thought he had grown up. that feeling of when you are shaking because you dont know what youll find, and when you find exactly what you hope not to, your heart sinks. you feel clammy, you feel so sick, trust and honor being so broken because you had such high hopes for him. and hakari had caught on, knowing that look. hakari rushed over, snatching his phone and gawking at it, face scrunched up and dumbfounded.

“… you stole twenty fucking grand from me, kinji?”

[charliesgoodboy]

-♡Zhongli x male reader(SFW, ANGST, A/B/O, MODERN AU ?)

-♡A/N: we need sad stuff on this blog ok !? Also i suck ass at angst. And kinda like a remix of @reallyromealone 's baby bonten fic ?

Zhongli had been paceing in the hallway chewing on his fingernails, his forehead dripping in slight sweat of worry.

You were giving birth. He hasn't left the outside of the room you were in for some time. Hasn't eaten, hasn't spoken to anyone. Just in that same spot as he was since yesterday.

He's been in worry ever since, they wouldn't let him see you, he needed to see you, to know if you were alright.

His world was filled with darkness at this moment, like a ringing soundwas in his ears. He was ready to be a father, but he didn't know how.

He wasn't an idiot he knew this day would come soon. And he would never regret it. Not till his death.

He perked up, the sound of a childs crying in his ears. His paceing comes to a stop, taking his fingernail from his teeth.

He was rushing to the door, about to open it till one of the nurses came out keeping him from coming in.

"Whats wrong ? Why won't you let me in ?" He tried to get past her, failing as she kept her arm in front of him, spine him being a but bigger than her.

"Mr. Zhongli...please listen to me..he...your husband.." The nurse gagged, not being able to get the sentance out, but oh...oh did Zhongli know.

That ringing came back. That ringing sound sound his ears. He saw the nurses mouth moving..he didn't understand her. He knew she was talking but he heard nothing but ringing.

Without knowing, he walked pass the nurse, sliding the door open. Your body looking so peacful. The baby in the nurses arms. Zhongli continuing to walk over to you. Your lifeless body was giving him guilt, he couldn't take it, he didn't want to believe that someone so dear to him was gone...just like that.

His hand coming in contact with your cheek. The dry tears stains visible on your cheek. His thumb caressing your face, as his face started showing visible sadness.

No tears yet though. He couldn't get them to come out.

"(m/n)...please..please I'm sorry..dont leave me.." He whispered. Some of the nurses and doctors keeping they're distance, even some of them silently crying.

Zhongli would miss you so dear. Not only that, but he'd need to deal with your body, give it a proper burial.

He was giving you a look, like the look of a puppy who's owner left him, hoping for them to come back.

To come back through that door.

And see them again..

But sometimes that wouldn't happen.

What if..what if the owner left that puppy forever.

And never returned.

Then what ?

Would the puppy stay waiting ?

Or would the puppy just give up.

Give up just like his owner.

Zhongli sighs, a tear going down his face but for some reason even that one tears showed all the pain he was going through.

Slipping his hand off you kissing your forehead, heading to the nurse with the child in hand.

"Did he name him before his death ?" The nurse shoot her head no, you could even see how red her eyes were, strands of her hair stuck out. Of course she was down about it. Everyone was.

"No...naming the child is up to you.." She said, handing the baby over to Zhongli. He held the child close..giving a kiss to they're cheek slightly smiling.

He lived the child so dear.

He just hated that he wouldn't be able to grow up with you.

"What will you name him sir ?" The nurse asked, she didn't want to rush him but he to wanted to know.

"Yuchen...that's what I'll name them..Yuchen." The nurse nods, agreeing the name really was beatiful.

"Universe with sun and moon." Is what It ment.

Turning back to you, and your sleep like form he almost burst out crying. He would- he wanted to. He wanted to hold you so close, for all three of you to be so happy together.

But he cant do that anymore.

He had to take care of this child, and he would do it well, he would make suryou'd have a proper burial, and he'll make sure Yuchen is the happiest baby he can make them.

[klance-brainrot]

klancing all things end by hozier

tw: angst, mcd, klance on-off relationship

They know they will break up again and then get back together and then break up again because they just don't work together but they can't live without one another.

Their personalities clash too severely for it to work permanently.

"The last time I felt your weight on my chest, you said: we didn't get it right, but love, we did our best"

this is them knowing they are going to break up again soon because they can't be together for more than a month and they both feel the end nearing. This is the calm before the storm, this is the night before another big fight, this is the cuddle before the argument.

"Just knowing that everything will end and we should not change our plan when we begin again"

this is them talking about their next try at a relationship and how, even though it never works, they would never change anything about their fucked up relationship attempts because at least they can be together that way.

"All that we intend is built on sand"

when starting new they both already know it's going to fail again. it's a fragile peace, it's all built on sand, it can be swept away by a single wave.

"If there was anyone to ever get through this life with their heart still intact, they didn't to it right"

this is Lance standing over Keith's grave and thinking about all they could've been and all they could've done together if it had worked. But it didn't work out. They tried so often but it never worked out, but Lance knows he doesn't regret a thing, he would've tried over and over and over again for those moments where it does work.

Until it doesn't.

Since he knows Keith, he knows, he didn't regret a thing either. Keith too would've tried over and over and over again just for those few moments of peace in between.

Their friends and family had tried countless times to tell them that it wouldn't work - it wouldn't work this time and it wouldn't work the next time they tried, but they never listened. For a while they tried to keep their distance from each other, but both of them were doing so bad during it. Lance was barely eating and ended up in the ER. Keith thought he was the only one suffering that badly but once Shiro let it slip that Lance was in the hospital he couldn't do it anymore and he came back. They always came back to each other. They cant live without each other.

"I have never known a silence like the one fallen here, never watched my future darken in a single tear"

this is the first time they broke up. They really thought it would work but their personalities and traumas and behavioral tendencies just work against each other unfortunately. Keith thought it was fixable, he would try everything, but one fight had gone too far and Lance breaks up with him. He sheds one single tear while doing it but remains otherwise neutral and says that it's probably better form him to take some time for himself. Keith is numb from shock and can't really say anthing, nothing that'd help Lance stay. So he watches the single tear fall and he watches him leave. For the first time. He will watch him leave over and over and over again.

"I know we want this to go easy by being someone's fault, but we've come long enough to know this isn't what we want"

this is their 5th breakup. They've done this before. They know how this goes. They get back together, they are good together for a few weeks until everything goes down the drain again. Most of the time there isn't even a trigger really. It's just a few fights too many and a few unfortunate things said that hurt bad. Too bad.

Lance says this when he's about to leave again - they both know it's both of their fault and at the same time it's noones fault.

Because that's who they are.

Keith with his parental trauma and need to distance himself from the ones he loves, and Lance with his fear of abandonment and being the second choice. He grew up in a happy family and can't deal with Keith's traumas forever. He needs to put himself first and he can't do that while being with Keith. But he can't live without him either.

They can't live without each other.

thank you @justdissimp for the beta and @numerous-bees-in-a-skin-suit for the encouragement <3

[deathskid]

WHEN IT RAINS, IT POURS.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ex bf toji x reader ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

❀ wc | 1.0k

❀ cw | sfw, angst, hurt, just sad sappy shit lmao

a/n: this is very unedited, it was a heat of the moment kinda thing

four bangs on your apartment door woke you up abruptly. you knew it was him from how the heavy hand abused the door. also, he was the only person who ever knocked, everyone else would just ring the doorbell.

you wiped the sleep from your eyes and looked at the clock sitting on your nightstand, 2:27am. you sighed, slipping on your slippers and throwing on your favorite silk robe. you shuffled out of your room and to the front door to look through the peep hole. low and behold, there he was in all his glory. your ex, toji.

“i just want to talk. please.” he pleaded. “can i come in?” his foot went to step over the threshold, but you placed your hand on his chest.

“i just want to talk. please.” he pleaded. “can i come in?” his foot went to step over the threshold, but you placed your hand on his chest.

“i just want to talk. please.” he pleaded. “can i come in?” his foot went to step over the threshold, but you placed your hand on his chest.

“no, you can’t, toji. i’m almost positive that this is something we can talk about at a more reasonable hour and over the phone. i was serious when i told you i didn’t want to see your face again.” you stared up at him, a glimpse of defeat in his eyes. it was rare you ever saw this side of toji; so soft and so hurt. he had always kept up a wall until you managed to break it down. you had begged him to let you in, but he still ended up hurting you.

“i fucked up, okay? i know, i’m so fucking sorry y/n. i’m an idiot. but i can’t fucking live without you. i can fix this—i can fix us. i need you back i ca-“

“toji, just stop!” you threw your hands up in frustration. you took a long and shaky breath, doing your best to ignore the lump forming in your throat. “you cannot just show up and think you can win me back again. countless times, you hurt me and i still came running back to you.” your voice faltered for a moment, you cleared your throat before continuing. “this time is different, okay? there is no more us. that ended when you walked out of this apartment.”

“no, i’m gonna fix this. i’m not losing you. you’re the only thing i have. i’m gonna make things right, baby i promise. we’ll be back good in a little while, okay?” toji nodded, refusing to accept that it was over. you couldn’t tell if he was sleep deprived or just delusional. tears spilled over, staining your cheeks. you hugged yourself shaking your head as he rambled on about fixing your broken relationship. finally having enough, you reached up to cup his face in your hands, smiling small as you looked into his eyes.

“no, toji. you hurt me. you broke my heart into a million tiny pieces and left me to put the pieces back together. i love you, and i always will, but i can’t forgive you. i cant be with you anymore. if you really love me like you say you do, you’d leave me be so i can find happiness again. if you love me, you’ll walk away and let me find peace of mind. please.” your voice was weak, barely a whisper as you were trying not to full on sob in front of him. a single tear fell from his eye and he sniffled.

“just one more chance.” he pressed on. you fell in love with him for his persistence, but now it was breaking your heart. you shook your head no, rubbing small circles on his cheek with your thumb. you reached up on your tip toes to leave one final kiss on lips.

“i love you, toji.” your entire face was wet from all the crying you were doing. you released his face from your grasp and slowly shut your front door, locking it. you stood at the door for a moment, hoping and praying he’d call out your name again. but it never came. unbeknownst to you, he was still standing on the other side of the door, hands balled up in fists, waiting for you to open it again and jump into his arms. this couldn’t be it. you two had done this countless times before, you’d come back to him. right? he’d come back to you. right?

realizing that it was really over, you let the sobs you were holding in fall from your lips. your wails reverberating throughout your apartment. you couldn’t catch your breath and you were hyperventilating, your chest tight and head pounding.

toji still stood on the other side of the door, his heart cracking at your pained cries. he hated himself for doing this to you. all he wanted to do was bust in and hold you, comforting you until the crying stopped. but he couldn’t. he loved you, so he was going to leave you alone. that’s all you wanted from him. he silently turned around and left your apartment door, the rain still pouring down on him.

he convinced himself this was all just a bad dream, and that he’d wake up in the morning holding you in his arms. but morning came, and he was still laying in that hard motel bed, suitcase sprawled across the floor, and shattered beer bottles scattered on the floor. you nowhere in sight.

morning came, and you rolled onto the cold and empty left side of the bed, the mattress still dented from where he slept at. the lingering smell of his shampoo still wafting throughout the room. toji nowhere in sight.

you sighed, looking up at the ceiling as you hugged his pillow to your body, taking in what was left of his scent. maybe you’d call him in a few days.

[amidstnamjin-and-binchanlix]

i don't wanna look at anything else (now that i saw you)

Warnings: Uhhh. Not much. Just some v v light angst, and Jackjack being a teeny tiny bit of a dumbass lil shit. Mentions of alcohol and getting drunk fuk yeah no don't do too much alcohol, kids. body and image insecurities, too.

Pairings: Jackson Wang/Reader

Plot: In another lifetime, another universe, your happy ending has always been in front of you all along.

Genre: light angst, eventual happy ending

And I can still see it all (In my mind)

All of you, all of me (Intertwined)

I once believed love would be (Black and white)

But it's golden (Golden)

And I can still see it all (In my head)

Back and forth from New York (Sneaking in your bed)

I once believed love would be (Burning red)

But it's golden

Like daylight, like daylight

Like daylight, daylight

I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you

(I can never look away)

I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you

(Things will never be the same)

I've been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night

(Now I'm wide awake)

mixtape: all i have left to give - part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - ending 1

Oooooooohhhhweeeeeee

This is crazy

So much has happened since I last posted.

i got psychiatric help so guess who's on meds now? yay (not)

i mentioned here before that when I write the mixtape series, it's not necessarily in chronological order. I already have a rough draft in my mind of how it would go, and I am already planning to write the prequel to the first part, but it won't necessarily mean that it will come first. I also have an idea of what will happen for the ending(s?), but I have yet to muster the energy to write continuously right now bc so much has happened irl

With that being said, my next part will be a glimpse of one of the "what-if" endings. If it irks you that my writings are all over the place, I'm so sorry but I rly cant force my brain to write at one linear pace. As I always say, I hope I don't disappoint, and I'm so sorry if I do.

Thank you so much for loving my babies and for giving them the time of the day. Every time I get a notification of likes/reblogs/kudos/bookmarks, it warms my heart bc wtf it is more than I ever hoped for

thank you so much once again! this part is for those who are rooting for my babie jackjack because hey, he's a fuckin sweetheart and i love him to bits

just a little trigger warning for some insecurities because this is kinda self-projecting, i'm so sorry T_T

🌅

Soft morning light greets you when you open your eyes.

You've always relished in these times—the seconds or minutes of blank bliss and silence in between waking up and lucidity. These are times of peace before facing the storm of the day.

You stare at the ceiling of the room, the cream-colored walls, then the photos that line up your drawers.

So much has happened these past few months. Sometimes, you still can't believe that you've survived through it, that you powered through it. You genuinely thought it would end up killing you, and that you'd die hurting inside out.

But you lived, and you're happy now.

You turn your head to the side to find him, still slumbering. You take a deep breath and dig your fingers into your palm, afraid that this will all be a dream, and that you'll wake up with sweat on your forehead and blood on your lips and sheets.

You honestly would never have made it without him.

The one and only constant in your life, your ride-or-die.

Jackson.

He had been there through everything—the treatments, the hospitalizations, the relapses, and the recovery. He was there to see you fall apart at 3 a.m., see you struggle with breathing at random times of the day, there to see you bleed out from the love you had (have) for the other men who were supposed to love you back unconditionally.

He was there through everything, and he never once let go of your hand.

Sometimes, you think how it would be if you ended up with them; what would happen? Would you be happier? How would it be different from how it is right now?

But then, you think, they never loved you the way you wished to, the way they should've until you were on the brink of death. There would be too much resentment, too much guilt, too much pain. You would never be truly happy.

You feel guilty thinking about these things. You are genuinely happy— happier even—than you've ever been. Jackson never made you feel like you have to be someone else, like you have to live up to someone's high expectations. You never have to cry again, except when he goes on tour and you miss him, or when you're so happy with him that tears just can't help but make confetti in your eyes.

But then, you and Jackson both know that it is inevitable, that the love for the seven men who were once the center of your soul would never really go away. And he's okay with it, you're both okay with it. You've both made peace that they will always be a part of your life. All that matters is Jackson is your home now, that he's the one that you'll come home to. He's the one that you will make a space for in your heart, and the only one that will occupy it and stay for good.

Jackson is home, and he always will be.

You reach out and carefully brush Jackson's hair away from his still-closed eyes. Moments like this you miss the most when he's away on tour and you can't go with him. It gets lonely, but his coming home with the biggest and proudest smile on his face makes everything worth it.

He is worth it, and he always will be.

You scoot closer to his sleeping figure, wrapping your arm around his waist. Februaries are always cold, so his body warmth is heaven-sent. It is also one of the things you miss during times apart. You grew up in a non-affectionate household, touch-starved to the point that you became touch- repulsed. But after getting to know how Jackson feels like home, you can never get enough of his touch. You can never go for too long without it, and you can say you almost reverted to being touch-starved.

You shift to wrap yourself around him, slinging your leg lightly over his. You hear him groan as you bury your face in the crook of his neck, trying not to miss him already. You still have two weeks left before he leaves again for his next tour, but you can already feel the creeping sadness and pit in your stomach.

You're getting separation anxiety again. Maybe it's time to talk to your therapist.

Your fingers find themselves curled on his arms lightly, tracing shapes and absently doodling on his skin. 

"You're up early," comes Jackson's sleep-laden voice, his arms wrapping around your shoulders.

"'m not up yet," you grumble, subtly inhaling the scent of his skin. "And it's already seven AM; not early."

Jackson chuckles. "Okay, okay. No need to get pouty."

You huff. "I'm not pouty," an irony as you can actually feel yourself pout more when he says that. "It's really just not early."

It is early, you actually know it. But you want to spend more time with him before he sets off to wow the whole world again while you stay behind and wait for him to come home, so no, it's not really early.

You feel him kiss your hair. "Ah. I'm still here, but you already miss me." He laughs lightly. "What would you do without me?"

You know it's a joke, but your abandonment issues have been seriously acting up for a while now. You have to swallow before answering.

"I'd die without you," you blink rapidly to stop yourself from crying, trying to keep your tone light. "Terribly, so."

"Hey," Jackson tries to push your shoulder gently to look at your face, but you don't want him to see your crumpled expression.

"Hey, don't cry. It's too early for you to cry." You sniff, not wanting to let go of him. "I'm joking. You can never get rid of me at this point."

"But you can get rid of me," you fail to not sound miserable. "You can find someone else and settle down with them, someone whole."

A pause.

"Someone not broken."

"No." This time, Jackson's tone is firm, almost angry. "I don't like you talking about yourself like this, and I won't get rid of you. Is that what you think of me?"

"No, but you—"

"'But I ' nothing '," he says. He sits you both up and he puts his hands on your shoulders. "I fought nail and tooth just so I can have my happy ending with you. I fought with the law, I fought your soulmates, and I will fight all over again just so I can have this until we grow old and wrinkly. Why would I get rid of someone I've wanted my whole life? That's fucking stupid."

Your lips curl in a slight pout, trembling with all the tears that want to escape. You absently touch your chest, used to the phantom pain that came with the soul-scraping before. It's gone now, but all the things you used to do, used to go through, as well as the painful memories are still here.

"I..." You start, voice hoarse. "Sorry, I just don't want a repeat of that, you know?"

"I know."

"And I know you're not like them, but there are so many reasons things don't work out. And not to be dramatic or what—erm—," you clear your throat, "but I won't survive the next time I go through that again." Not if everything goes into plan, that next step you are planning with him. "It'll kill me."

You won't survive another soul-scraping, you just won't.

"You won't. I won't leave, I promise." Jackson presses a tender kiss on your lips, running his thumb on your cheek as he cradles it gently. "As I said, we'll grow old and wrinkly. We'll be that meme on Facebook where we grow old together and play bump cars with wheelchairs."

You snort softly. "If you damage my rhetorical wheelchair, I'm using yours. You crawl on the ground."

He grins, a lovely sight on his pretty face. "I'll always crawl my way back to you," he croons.

Jackson leans in and captures your lips in a gentle kiss. His hand finds its way inside your top and you flinch unintentionally. He tenses, then pulls away.

"I'm sorry," you hurriedly say.

"Hey," he says, eyes searching your face. "No need to apologize. I'm sorry. We don't need to do anything you don't want to."

"No, no. I want to." You pause, biting your lip. "It's just... my scar." You absently trace your myectomy scar. He looks at you, willing you to go on. "It's ugly." Among all other things.

"You will never be ugly." You open your mouth to retort but he silences you with a serious look. "I love you, scars and all. But as I said, we don't have to do anything. I just want to spend my time with you, and I'm good."

God, you think, I really think I'll marry you.

You surge up with a fierce kiss to his lips, taking your top off before you can change your mind.

"Wait, wait." Jackson puts his hand on yours, stopping you from taking your shirt off. "No."

"No?" You swallow thickly.

"No, not like that," he says hurriedly, seeing your mood shift. "Is it a good day?"

You know what he means, and it is not.

"No," you agree in a small voice. "It isn't."

You've gotten far from your insecurities, but they sometimes come back sneakily, like they did yesterday and today, of all days.

"We can keep your shirt on if you'd like?" he offers.

You take one look at him. Yup, you'll definitely marry him.

"Please?" You implore with your eyes.

He smiles softly. "Then we keep your shirt on."

His smile turns wicked.

"Won't stop me from eating you out from under it, though."

---

"Mark!"

"No," Mark says flatly. "You're not backing out of this."

"But—"

"Do you love him?" he asks.

"Yes!"

"Do you want to marry his ugly face?"

"He's not ugly, but yes!"

"Do you want to spend your lifetime kissing his ugly face?"

"Again, my Jackson is not ugly, but yes, I do!"

"Did you change your mind then?"

"Y—no, I did not!"

"Then why are you backing out?!"

"Because what if he doesn't want to?" [Name] bursts out to which Mark snorts impatiently. "What if doesn't want that for life? That's a lifetime of commitment, Mark. I can't undo that shit."

"You think he would want to?" Mark asks, almost angry, his patience growing thin. He rolls his eyes to heaven when he sees you in near tears.

"He wants to marry your equally ugly face," to which you splutter a 'hey!', "he talks, breathes, and sleeps nothing but [Name], [Name], [Name]." He sighs.

"Do you really think he would let go of you now?"

You know at this point that your fear is redundant and irrational, but you can't help it. Not when your own (ex-)soulmates didn't want you. It took you almost dying, and choosing your dignity and self-respect before they turned around. And even then, it was too late. Your soul is having none of it.

Mark softens at your silence. "Did you talk to your therapist about this?"

You nod. "Yeah. He said that I should start forgiving myself and moving forward and that I should believe that not everyone is like them. Not everyone will leave me."

"He's right. We won't leave you. We're stuck with you, just like how you're stuck with us. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Okay, good. Now, give me my hug because I just got from a long tiring flight because someone didn't want me to ride her private jet." He glares at you.

You laugh. "I told you, I need to fly here earlier than you since you can't cancel your meeting."

"You could've—I don't know—waited for me, maybe?" He pulls you in a tight hug.

Before you two can pull away, however, you both hear the sounds of Jackson's voice and the door opening.

Oh, shit.

You two freeze on your hug. You don't understand why you did but you just feel guilty, like being caught with your hand down your pants. You and Mark pull away from each other quickly.

"What's this? Hugging without me, huh?" Jackson jokes, but you can hear the slight insinuation in his voice, one that Mark does as well.

"Yeah, I'm stealing your girlfriend, Wang. Watch out." Mark smirks lightheartedly.

This bitch!

Jackson's eyebrow twitches. "You wish." They embrace in a brief hug before he turns to you with a soft smile on his pretty face.

Wow. Years in and you still can't get your heart to shut up over his smile.

"Hey," he says softly. "This is a very nice surprise."

"I missed you and the bed was cold," you pout slightly. "So here I am."

"Ah, I knew it. You just want a bed warmer." In the background, you can hear Mark fake gag, and Jackson gives him the finger.

"No, I want my Jackson not an electric blankie, smartass."

"Your Jackson, huh?" Mark fake gags again, and you smile at Jackson's 'fuck off, Tuan'.

"This is not what I signed up for, so I'm leaving you lovebirds to it."

"About time." This time, it's Jackson who grumbles, and you and Mark both laugh. "Shut up."

---

The next few days of the tour see Jackson busier than ever, and so are you. With the tour coming to its end, you scramble to get the last steps of your surprise into place. After all, Jackson deserves the best, and you don't want to give him any less.

This also means that you both get to see less of each other. You miss him and it sucks, and Jackson sometimes gets to receive the burnt of it, unfortunately.

"Hey. It's okay, everything's going to be okay," he says. You are so close to bursting and just saying fuck it, but you can't, so you let out a frustrated growl.

"It is not, stop saying that again and again." It is not. The local producer and local venue producer are being tough nuts to crack for some unknown reason, and are uncooperative. They are the only remaining people you need in on the plan, so it is taking too much time and effort on your part. Not that Jackson is not worth it, but the headache is just a bitch to deal with. "It really isn't so I ask you to kindly fuck off, Jackson. I don't need you patronizing me right now."

"Hey," he says firmly, his jaw heavy set. "I'm not doing anything, so don't take your shit out on me."

Ah, shit.

"Jacks—"

"Is it because I'm taking much of your time?"

"What?"

"Is it because I'm taking your time away to be with Mark?"

Your jaw drops. "Excuse me?"

"You think I don't see how you spend your time with him? How close you two seem to be nowadays?"

Aw, hell no.

"Jackson, no. What the fuck?"

"No, no. It's okay. You don't need to explain, you know? If you want to be with Mark-hyung, it's fine. I'm not gonna stand in the way."

"What are you talking about? Are you saying I'm cheating on you?" you ask in disbelief.

Jackson shakes his head. "I'm saying that if you want to be with him, you don't need to start picking fights just so we can break up." His eyes turn sad. "I'll let you go, you just have to ask."

Your chest hurts at that, stirring up old feelings you thought you'd never be able to feel again. "And you're gonna let me go, just like that?"

Silence.

You laugh humorlessly. "Wow. And you think of me that way, too."

"[Name]—"

"No." You thank whatever fuck there is that you had the foresight to book a separate room to plan your surprise (not that you sleep in it, with you opting to always sleep beside Jackson since arriving) and take your bag from the chair by the window of the suite.

"Thank you for clearing that shit up. At least I know now where I stand."

Jackson grasps your wrist delicately. "Sweetheart—"

You pull your wrist away from him. "Don't 'sweetheart' me, Jackson." He stops at the sight of the brimming tears in your eyes, the hurt painted in it.

"I trusted you with shit, you knew how I abhor those things you accuse me of. You knew how I hated my mom because of the things she did, and yet you dared think I am like her."

"I didn't—"

"Yes, you did, Jackson. Because if you only knew how full I am of you since the day I let those bastards go from my life." You sniff. "It's only and always been you, you, and you. Everyone knew that; everyone knows that."

"I don't—"

"Yeah, you don't. So I'll spare you the time and just leave you be. I never plan to force myself into something or someone, and I don't plan to start now."

Jackson tries to refute that it isn't the case, but you slam the door shut in his face behind you before he can even get a word in.

[ah, these kids. what do i do with you two?]

Jackson looks at the door you just slammed shut in his face, then to the dresser in his suite that you never opened. You two had always been intertwined, but you always gave him his space and privacy. He walks towards it, opens it, and takes the velvet box with the sparkling ring in it.

All I can say is you two are idiots, and everyone will agree with me.

---

"You what?!"

You grumble, shielding your bottle away from Mark. "Please don't shout at me, I'm already having a hard time as it is." You try to pull off your pitiful face, but Mark only makes his own face at you.

To be fair, Mark finds you pitiful, but not in that way. And he kind of wants to punch Jackson in the face right now too because seriously, you and Mark? It's like him and his sisters, what the actual fuck?

He can't blame the man, however. Everyone in the circle knows how Jackson has been wounded by the relationships he was in before, so it's easier for him to switch to defense mode. Jackson has always been prone to leave before he gets left when he feels like the other party is slowly losing interest.

But the dumbass has always been prone to the dumbest dumbassery in the group. And this? This takes the cake, Mark could roll his eyes to heaven.

"And you didn't bother to, I don't know, explain shit to him?" he asks with the patience of a saint.

You pout. You had the audacity to pout and Mark feels the patience slowly slipping away from him. "No. It's not gonna be a surprise anymore if I do."

Holy fuck.

"Are you shitting my dick right now?" he mutters. You only snort and Mark pulls away the bottle from you.

"Hey!"

"Listen to me. It's not gonna be a surprise anymore if you two break up because there'll be no one to surprise. You know he is a dumbass and you decided to be a dumbass too?"

"Hey! He accused me first! I didn't accuse him anything when he shot that sexy ass shoot with the ashes and stuff—"

"—Cruel." Mark supplies helpfully.

"Yes, that. I didn't do that with the main dancer when they've been cute and friendly and shit off cam, and yet he accuses me with you." You belch and gag, and Mark steps away slightly from you to avoid any impending projectile vomiting. "Like 'ew'."

"I agree with you, but how dare you, bitch? Are you saying I'm 'ew'?"

You level him with a look as much as you can with your drunk face, and Mark has never had the urge to headlock a woman before.

"Anyway," you say forlornly, "at least I know where we stand now." You sniff, and Mark feels bad for you (a little).

"No, you really don't. I thought that by now, you would know how he is."

"You weren't there when he said it!" You burst out angrily. "He means it! Do you know how it feels standing there and being practically told that he knows I'll leave him for other people, and that he'll let me?" You burp loudly again. "Me, of all people? When he knew how I detest that shit. With all the things I went through?"

And then you burst into ugly sobs.

[ah, jackson. you really are one dumbass.]

"Hey, hey, no," Mark says, wrapping his arms around you. "Don't cry. You're not allowed to cry. Doctor Im told you you're still healing; you're not even allowed to drink."

"Yet here I am," you say with a shaky laugh that morphs into another sob. "Again."

You're not sure if you're just talking about drinking or the fact that you're on the brink of losing yourself again over lost relationships. It's tiring, really. But it is what it is, as they say.

"Can you—can you please get my bag?" you ask Mark. "By the door, tossed it earlier," you slur.

You've never really shown Mark the ring you want to propose to Jackson with. Mark assumed that it is flashy, and you're never one for flashy things, so you're embarrassed about it.

That's not it, however. Completely the opposite, actually. The engagement ring is totally simple, a silver band encrusted with small diamonds on top. The only flashy thing about it is the bigger diamond heart in the center and the smaller gems that surround it on both sides.

The smaller gems are the highlights, you think. You took them from the necklace with both the birthstones that were gifted by Jackson to you during your first year anniversary and had them cut delicately to fit the ring you had in mind. On the right heart side are your birthstones, while on the left are Jackson's. You know some might find it too feminine, and Jackson might not be able to wear it that much in his line of work, but the ring is the most beautiful thing you have ever created in your life.

And now, Jackson won't be able to see it. That thought brings you to a fresh round of tears.

"Too girly, isn't it?" You ask Mark, who is silent. "And it should be the other way around—he should be the one asking me to marry him. I still would've asked him to marry me with this, Mark. That's how I don't give a shit. I just wanna marry his ugly face, but now I can't."

"You wanna marry me?" Comes a soft voice behind you and Mark. You jerk away, and Mark gently unwraps his arms around you as Jackson steps forward.

"I'll let you lovebirds talk," Mark says as he pulls away, but your wide eyes (as wide as bloodshot eyes can be) are only trained on Jackson. Mark pats Jackson's shoulder with a low 'we'll talk later', and Jackson only nods. It is silent until Mark closes the door behind him.

"You wanna marry me?" Jackson asks again. "You're gonna ask to marry me, [Name]?"

You can only nod, your eyes shut as your tears don't stop falling.

"Stay here," he only says. It's not like you're going anywhere, so you stay put. However, when five minutes turn to fifteen, then to twenty, you start to think that Jackson has either gone to sleep or gone off to god knows where. Before you can even think about getting up and running after him, the door to your suite opens.

"Come here, stand up." Jackson takes your hand and helps you stand up. He wipes your face with his hand, then with the cold cloth that someone hands him (whom you recognize is one of his staff). Other staff start to fuss over you as someone turns on the overhead lights.

"Wait, what?" you ask as someone starts to powder your face. "What's happening?"

You turn to Jackson, who's being ushered into a suit. You are ushered yourself by the few staff he had roped into helping into the other room to change into a tulle sweetheart dress.

"We're getting married."

---

"So, Jackson..." You hear the host through the speakers start his next question as you wait backstage with Mark. Even with the elopement, you're still going through with your plan.

That other plan.

"No," Mark says flatly. "You're not backing out of this."

Here we go again, but this time, Mark is a little less pissed and more exhausted with your shenanigans.

"No, I'm just saying. Maybe I should do this in private instead? This is the equivalent of putting a girl on the spot with marriage proposals, which, for the record, I absolutely detest because fuck having choice and not cornering them into whatever they want, right?"

"While I do agree with you, he'll pee his pants and probably hump you if you do this than to be put off, trust me," Mark says. "And besides, everything is ready. All it needs is the execution."

Mark has a point.

Before you can wimp out again, you hear your name being called to an uproar of cheers. You're lucky Jackson's fanbase is mostly supportive of your relationship since you two came out a few years ago, though it is not without some minor hiccups and a few outrage from the unsupportive ones. What matters however is you lucked out, and you can never be more grateful.

"[Name] [Last Name], ladies and gentlemen!" You hear the host say as you see Jackson's blinding grin when you step out from the backstage.

Oh, you swoon. My smitten darling [Name].

Steady, girl.

"So, Miss [Last Name]—"

"It's Mrs. Wang, actually." You hear gasps from the audience, and Jackson's blinding grin turns lovelier and wider. "We actually got married in secret, and you forgot this at home." You hand him his ring as you grin mischievously.

"Okay, Peeta Mellark." Jackson rolls his eyes good-naturedly as he slips on his ring. "What a way to break it to them."

"My, my." The host fans himself with a wide smile. "Is this what you meant when you told me you'll be getting me a high rating?"

"I hope so," you say sheepishly. "If it doesn't, then no worries. I still have another trick in my hat. Don't you worry."

You look at Jackson and can't help but laugh inwardly at his clueless smile.

Oh, dear.

The interview goes without a hitch, with it mostly centered on your married life. You were originally nervous about how it would turn out, but it had been so far so good. Nobody threw shoes, and all that happened was a little 'booooo' when asked if you had had your honeymoon yet (which not yet, because you were both busy for a while after his tour).

"So, [Name]," the host asks again with a little waggle of his eyebrows. "What is this other trick of yours you mentioned earlier?"

Ah, shit. Here we go.

"Ah." Your smile turns a little serene, and you see Jackson sit up straighter in his seat. Nobody would notice it if they are not in tune with him, but he practically owns your whole soul, and you'd like to think that you do his, too, so you notice it.

"Have I told you my story about my soulmates?"

The host shakes his head. "Pray, do tell."

"Well, not everyone gets lucky with theirs. Everyone knows that." You smile sadly, the audience turning quiet.

"Yes, of course. A very sad fact that everyone is very well acquainted with." The host smiles sympathetically at you.

"I used to think it was the end of the world when mine didn't want anything to do with me. I kept thinking that something was wrong with me, that maybe I was really not worth their time. That maybe I was meant to suffer and die hurting."

You pause, then you look at Jackson. "But then I realize, I have you," you say softly.

You look back at the host.

"What more can I ask for when I have him?"

Your smile turns happier as the audience lets out a quiet 'aww'.

"I really like doing things unconventional and my way so..."

You bite your lower lip as you look once again at Jackson, who has his eyes trained on you and hanging on to every word you say.

"Would you give me the honor of being my forever soulmate, Jackson?"

It was like a time warp. The moment he said yes, cheers erupted, and everything blurred and warped in your ears. All your fears, all the hurt and pain? It was gone.

This is your happy ending, you deserve it, my dear [Name].

Go live it.

---

Meanwhile, somewhere a thousand miles away, a group of young men smile sadly at what could have been, and what was lost. Their chests perpetually ache with the loss of a piece of a soul they can never get back.

[twogyuu]

hey, can i request vernon with i cant run away? the angstier the better!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! thank you 💚💚💚

You're Far Away (I'm in the Same Place)

Pairing: Vernon x gn!reader

Song requested: I Can't Run Away

Synopsis: A series of voicemail messages from your ex-boyfriend left unheard. Alternatively, they say if you love someone, set them free. If they come back they’re yours; if they don’t they never were. But what was Vernon?

Genre: This is literally all just pure angst - you asked, so I delivered 💔

Warnings: Use of profanity, use of alcohol, mentions of food

WC: 860

Taglist: @confuchan @dinonononono

Permanent taglist: @sleeplessdawn @woozarts @wonuziex @rockwidthyou @aceofvernons @nanamioo @bibinnieposts @jeonghanniehae95 @sadkidwarexpert

A/N: Thanks again to @bitchlessdino for beta reading - I'm sorry I couldn't fulfill your request to give him back what he longed for most.

Whirlwind of Days Masterlist

“Hey! This is Y/N. Sorry I missed your call – leave a message at the tone and I’ll get back to you soon. Cheers!”

Vernon chuckled breathily. 

Cheers. 

You never said good-bye because you claimed they were too sad. Even when he left for New York, all he could remember was the sound of your unironically cheerful voice echoing through the airport terminal, shouting, “Cheers!” as he dragged his carry-on, wheels squeaking across the well-waxed floors. 

The beep of the tone brought him back from his musing. 

“Hey,” Vernon pressed his phone closer to his ear, “Um . . . I’m . . . I made it to New York – all in one piece,” he chortled, sniffling a little, the cold nipping at his nose. “I know we promised not to contact each other to make this break-up easier, but . . . I just wanted to let you know I’m safe; give you some peace of mind, ya know?”

He paused for a moment, blinking away the tears that were welling in his eyes. Because of the frigid air, they froze quickly. Vernon could feel his lashes sticking to the water each time he blinked. 

Does he dare?

The two of you made a pact: A mutual and clean break up when he moved to New York. No contacts to prevent the heartbreak from hurting for longer than necessary. 

Vernon does dare – the heart wants what it wants. 

“I miss you already,” Vernon finally said, loud and clear into the receiver. “I hope you’re safe and doing well. I’d say call me when you get the chance, but . . . let’s just leave it at that,” he let out a heavy sigh before bidding you good-bye. 

“Hey! This is Y/N. Sorry I missed your call – leave a message at the tone and I’ll get back to you soon. Cheers!”

“Hey,” Vernon smiled softly to himself. He peered down at the white paper bag in his hand. Stuffed inside was a fresh loaf of pan aux raisin bread from a small bakery a couple blocks away from his place. “I was just thinking about you today – I went to Rockefeller Center today to see them light up that huge Christmas tree you always wanted to see. I took a few pictures and posted them on my story for you – if you still use Instagram that is. I know you said you wanted to try living without social media for a bit.”

Jogging up the ice-covered cement steps to his apartment complex, he fished out his keys from his jean pocket. Opening the door, he was enveloped with immediate warmth and the elderly Ms. Jung’s smile. He nodded, throwing her a hand, heading for the elevators. 

“New York is pretty great,” Vernon continued, “I . . . like my new job, my co-workers are alright, except for maybe Jeonghan. He’s my supervisor and he has red hair  – Chan likes to joke that it looks like jokbal. I’m exploring the city little by little. I found a cute hole-in-the-wall bakery where they sell your favorite bread too.” 

He punched the button to go up to the fourth floor. 

“It’d be better with you though,” Vernon said quietly as the elevator doors slid shut together. He peered up at his blurry reflection in the stainless steel wall. He could hardly recognize himself. 

His phone suddenly beeped twice, a robotic voice announcing, “Signal lost.”

“Hey! This is Y/N. Sorry I missed your call – leave a message at the tone and I’ll get back to you soon. Cheers!”

“Y/N, hi,” Vernon slurred, dragging on the last word. He collapsed onto Chan’s worn brown couch and squeezed his eyes shut. “Happy new years, babe – I miss you so so so so so much,” giggles bubbled from his chest. “Miss you so much it hurts. It’s been like what? Three? Four months? You’d think my heart would ache less by now.” He smacked his chest with his fist as if to make a point. His gaze lingered on the ceiling that was usually an off-white and cracked. Tonight, it was black and blurry. He could've sworn he was seeing stars too. 

Vernon’s voice grew small, pressing his lips into a tight line. “Sometimes, I wonder if you miss me too.”

“Vernon!” Chan called from the other room, “What are you doing?”

“Or have you already found someone else to love?” Vernon pressed on. “You were always easy to love – anyone could see it.”

“Are you drunk calling Y/N, right now?” Chan asked in horror. 

Vernon didn’t answer him though. 

“I love you,” Vernon confessed, ignoring his younger friend. His tears started to flow as he twisted to hide his face in the faux velvet fabric material of the couch. Chan was going to have to work extra hard to get the stains of his snot out now. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever stop – I don’t think I can. Even if I’m on the other side of the world – I can’t run away . . . I won’t run away,” he let out probably his five hundredth heavy and empty breath since getting to New York. 

“I’ll find my way back to you.”

Those were his last words before he blacked out.

[inkyycloud]

I never knew until now that fall could be a time of sorrow. where you had enjoyed it at one time with that special person every year like clock work where you would hang up the Halloween decorations with them trying to figure out how to move the plastic spiders limbs and toying with the not so delicate wed while bouncing off your ideas of what you want to be for Halloween and what candy you want to receive to them or argue whether if pumpkin pie or apple was better than all the other pies or begging them to sneak you a piece of turkey and ham at Thanksgiving. Then as the air starts to cool down and the dead leaves fall from the trees does the memories of how they would complain about the leaves getting everywhere to which you would just laugh and shake your head and agree with that or about how they would make you a meal only they could make in the fall for you. But you cant help but remember all the times you thought about how you wished they would just go away and leave you alone to just let you do thing your own way. Only to remember that this fall you won't have them here with you they are now a memory in your head a piece of imagination only to see in your dreams. anything yall would say or do together is never going to happen again with that person. it was only for you and them the special thing you would do for each other and now they are gone you can't touch them, you can't hold them,you can't talk to them, you can't cry to them you cant laugh with them, yell at them Nothing but that empty feeling creeping inside your body knowing you can do Nothing to bring them back even if you tried with your whole heart its worthless. the shadows you see in the corner of your eue wishing and praying that it's them feeling like they are just gone for a little while only to realize they are never walking through those doors again. Knowing you were losing them in the fall a season where you watched them deteriorate and dissappear in front of your own eyes cant standing the thought to look at them in the eyes feeling your past memories of them would be tainted and destroyed. The once goofy, charming, happy person they once were is now a husk ofa human now they are just a shell of what they once were they used to dance with you in the kitchen as you'd make food with them. The anger they felt when a chef had got the food undercooked in chopped. The laughter they had was just Contagious they lit up the room with it. To see that and the shell of the former person they used to be in the corner of the room was heart breaking the fall season never feels complete without them it took your person away. never returning them back to you practically tearing what was left of them out of your hands. Only thing remains is the ashes of their body they fought hard to be with you to live towards another fall full of dancing, carving turkey and laughter but not all things go the way we want. Slowly as the years start passing and the wounds start healing you find the peace and Serenity you had now the way it used to be but a way that suits you. you don't forget about them you keep them close to your heart you hold them you learn to love the fall again your still healing but you've come a long way since the so yeah the fall still brings sorrow but where there is sorrow there is joy.

_______________________________________________

This was kind of angst idk I was feeling it while writing lol this is not proof read

[yenerdybird]

So were back. Behold, another one of my children

Bask in its glory

Im calling this one,

My Fault

And man its full of ✨angst✨

Its more of a time divergent then a full on universe alternate, but it happens after Pogtopia so i feeeel like it can go anyyywhere.

We start on a rooftop, a wind flies by, nipping at the two people standing there.

Tommy glances at Wilbur, but the man still doesn't look at him. Eyes and ears on Tubbo and Tommy doesnt know what to think of it. He knows what Wil is waiting for but he wouldnt really blow up L'manburg, right? This is WIL we're talking about! This is the man who founded the damn place! This was his home! This was Tommy's home...

"... Let the festival begin!"

Wilbur ran off, needing no prodding, and Tommy almost ran after him but Tubbos voice raises above the wind and Tommy looks back. His breathing stops as his best friend is being pushed against the lectern. Tommy turns back to Wil expecting him by his side. Instead, he finds him climbing over the crest of the hill. Trying to find the stupid button and Tommy surprised himself by not feeling disappointed.

Maybe...

Maybe he already knew Wil wasnt the good guy anymore.

AND BAM! THATS WHERE IT STARTS

Cause u know how Tommy always was like "Wilbur wouldnt do that, hes too pogchamp! Mememe" Until like the END! So im thinking that we speed it up a bit >:D And by doing this the next series of events happen

Tommy keeps a closer eye on Wilbur, which is fantastic! Because imagine all those fluff/mostly angst convos we could haveee (Tommy sees one of Wils letters?!)

Tommy, being more focused on Wil, realizes way before that Wil isnt with them before the Wither battle. (Might hafta change around the timeline a bit because we cant not have Techno give his Thesus speech)

Now this is where it gets real

Because Tommy realizes where Wilbur must be, he goes out and finds Wilbur before Phil and tries to talk him down (✨angst✨) surprise surprise, it doesn't work. Cue Phil! Who, Tommy leaves to talk to Wil, and then goes out to warn his peeps about the bombs (maybe he hears the wither battle end and wants to go check)

BUT in order to get to them he takes a short cut over the hill. Right across the bomb field (thu he doesnt know it). He sees Tubbo and waves as he starts to run over.

"...it was never meant to be."

And the bombs go off.

There's a part where Wilbur looks over the crater and at the people on the other side. (Right after this he asks Phil to kill him.) Then he sees Tubbo stock still, follows his gaze, and then stills himself. On the edge of the crater is a body. White and red, a lot more red then there used to be. He falls to his knees.

Tommy never made it across.

SO Wil doesnt end up dying but Tommy does.

"That cant be Tommy! I couldnt have-! I wouldnt-! Why did he have to come back for me!" Wil cant breath, he cant breath. "Heh ha, so it wasnt Schlatt that killed you or Dream or even Eret. It was me. OF F@#KING COURSE IT WAS ME!"

His vison had gotten blurry and he laid his forehead on the ground, still on his knees, as his arms wrapped around his chest. Why was just breathing suddenly so hard?! His chest burned and his vision was blackening around the edges.

"its my fault."

This wasn't how it was supposed to go!

Tommy was supposed to live, mess around with Tubbo, Live in a world without Schlatt. Tommy living out his days in peace! Like how he always talked about. That was the way it was going to go, that was the right way.

But then, when did it ever go right for Wilbur Soot?

Unbidden his eyes found the his body again. At the same moment he could hear his own voice, or maybe it was the person who said it first (either way, it was the voice of a traitor)...

"It was never meant to be."

Wil then goes into one of those classic, im letting myself go and hygene doesnt matter, what is shaving? What is a sun? Oh, you mean that bright ball in the sky that i saw last week?

People try to talk him, Phil being one of the only to get thru, it is a slow process.

The only one that got him to go outside is ✨Quackity✨, Frenemies am i right?

So Wil finally goes out, takes a good long walk, has some self-care for once when. Oh wowie zowie! What is that in the distance!

Hopefully, it's not my dead brother who died a brutal death, because of me, and has now been reincarnated as a ghost who doesn't remember anything from Pogtopia making me realize even more so how bad a person i was to you and whose mere presence would probably send my only just rising mental state down the drain, sending my self-care with it because now I'll feel like i have to overwork myself for you so that i can fulfill my need to make up for everything i put you through even though ur just his ghost and i cant help you anymore because youre dead and i cant bring you back...

...

Anyway, that's exactly who he is.

And thats my au! I feel like this can go multiple ways like maybe we bring the revive book in?

Im heading to bed, garsh i feel like an old lady, but im ready for sleeep! Good night!

[4uru]

(Tw: Vent post)

I went thru some of my worst depressive, suicidal, self hating episodes during quarentine. Teenage angst fuelled to the max by gender dysphoria, internalized homophobia and transphobia. In 2020 baby me wrote several letters addressed to future me, telling me to kill myself . I will be 16 soon, those letters were addressed to me. I know if anyone reading this who is an adult feels like this is just a kid complaning. And ur not wrong.

This is probably not even thing i will ever face in my life. And that thought scares me.

I was a different, very miserable, angry and tiny person in quarentine, i was brimming with hate and sadness, i had no friends. I was a kid who was stuck in a house 24/7 with my (suddenly) religious mother who i stupidly came out to, my parents werent even a little bit supportive back then, they thought i was fetishizing being LGBTQ my dad thought i wanted to be trans and gay to be different. (Lets not even open that can of worms)

What im trying to say is, it took alot of work to get where i am this year. I tried hard "loving myself", i worked hard to look at myself and not see a complete fucking monster. I tried very hard to believe in a future.

But all my work is down the drain bc of this fucking system. I dont want a future anymore. I am fucking done hearing critism from the generation who had adequate study plans. Who didnt have the life drained out of them everyday. My parents talk so brazenly about my generation about our studies like its the same. 30 years ago the Curriculum was in their favor, now its evil and twisted and i dont want to go through wjth it.

I legit fantasize suicide just to avoid dealing with it. Everytime i go to school or coaching all i hear are different voices telling me how much hard work i have to do to pass SSC, then get into a good college, then HSC, then University etc etc etc.

I tried to look forward to a future, i forced myself to imagine a life for myself, i swear i tried. I just dont want to anymore, i told myself i want to be an animator, or just work in an artistic field,

I dont want a future anymore, i cant keep going on, its fucking exhausting, i dont want anything from my life. I have nothing to look forward to, everytime i try its always an exam to prove to people that im worthy of existing. Every fucking time.

It never ends, it wont ever end, i will just be wrung out and burnt out of everything i ever cared about. I cant go on a day without being berated and if i do, i cant go on with out feeling guilty for using my free time to be at peace. They hardwired my brain to hate myself then they yell at me for it

I dont know if ppl know how easy its for me to be desensitized to death, i have no qualms about it, i didnt literally since the day i turned 8. I have read ppl saying ppl sho commit suicide are cowards, and i remember feeling worse about it. Bc somewhere deep down i do feel like a fucking coward and a quitter.

But i genuinly dont care anymore, i cant keep doing this, i dont think i am strong enough. My friends talk about how i have a clear cut future with my art and stuff. But holy shit no i dont, i dont think i will live to see 18. I dont want to live to see 18. I dont want to keep doing this.

Sometimes i wish i was religious so i would have someone to pray to, to believe in, but i dont. I never did, i could never believe in someone. I wish i did rn bc maybe that can be my salvation. But its not.

I just cant anymore with this shit, yaar. I feel like i am going to shatter like glass if i even move.

I dont think ppl know how much their tiny jabs build up on my skin to become a large gaping wound that i just cant stitch back up.

I sometimes think that, if i do it, if i do kill myself, they are just going to blame it on social media and other teenage angst bullshit.

I dont want to live like this, i dont want to prove my existence. Kill me, i will accept it, just let me go.

It hurts so much to go on with life knowing my inevitable failure. And even if i dont fail, if i somehow by some miracle get to college, the cycle will start again, in every step of life theres some new competition i have to win to have the right to exist in society.

I dont know whats the point anymore its all the same shit in repeat. "OH but life has so much to offer" no thank you, i will take the receit and see myself out. If you say its about ppl? Family? Friends? Desi parents of queer children are hardly the point of life, and friends? What friends? The person who came to school and told me that she dreamt of dieing and was disappointed when she woke up?.

The people who to my face said they tolarate my existence?

"It doesn't matter what you think" it matters when i spend 5 days a week 6 hours a day with these sons of bitches.

I just fucking cant anymore, bro.

And i dont think i deserve to die, i dont hate myself that much anymore. But its so exhausting. Before i used to look for painless deaths, just quite and painless. Now i dont even care about that, make it quick, get me out of here, i dont care how much blood and gore i will turn into just let me leave.

[sourapplesauces]

Bot Boy Idea 4: Vanny comes back

I'm gonna be honest, this one is my personal favorite, and I am quite surprised that it hasn't been done yet. Think of the angst potential! (this is no longer true)

Imagine it's been a few weeks since the 3 star ending and the 3 goobers are getting more acclimated to living with each other. Gregory is getting used to the fact that he has 2 adult figures that actually care about him. Vanessa’s nightmares are starting to become less severe. Freddy’s head was reattached to his body, and he now remotely controls a child-size bear doll (like a Lonely Freddy but not evil) so he can still easily be with Gregory when he isn't at the pizzaplex.

The day would start like any other: everyone wakes up, goes through their morning routines, and eats some breakfast. Gregory finishes first and gets up to go and wash off his plate in the sink. That is when it happens, Vanessa starts to feel a little off, like she is moving slower than normal. At first, she brushes it off as her still waking up. Then she hears a voice… a voice she only hears in her worst nightmares… VANNYS voice. Vanessa would then discover that she could no longer move or speak. She could only watch as she felt herself get up from her chair, and pick up a knife from off of the counter. The reason that she still has any knives at all is for Gregory to use to spread various condiments on his school sandwiches when he makes them.

Meanwhile, Gregory and Freddy are near the sink, having a conversation about Freddy's obsession with dad jokes or something (You are the Morbest superstar!) They turn around, preparing to return to Gregory's room to get ready for school, and they see Vanessa, holding a knife. Gregory would feel a sharp twinge of betrayal before looking at Vanessa's face to see that her calm green eyes, ones that had reassured him after many a nightmare, were now glowing a sickly purple. Freddy and Gregory would realize that the person in front of them was no longer Vanessa, but Vanny.

Vanny raises her arm, Gregory is looking for a way out. He is also preparing for the possibility of being killed, and he doesn't want to give Vanny the satisfaction of being scared if that happens. Through all this, Vanessa is trying desperately to retake control, all the while Vanny mocks her efforts, making sure that Vanessa won't be able to mentally look away from her worst fear, the death of her savior by her own hands. Freddy is preparing to try and jump in front of Gregory at the last second to try and cushion the blow of the knife using his plush form.

Just before Vanny is able to deliver the killing blow, she disappears. No warning at all, like a true glitch, Freddy and Gregory watch as Vanessa's eyes flicker from purple back to green, drops the knife and collapses to the floor, hugs herself and sits in complete silence for a few seconds before bursting into hysterical tears.

Nooooo....... you're gonna bring me to tears first! No offense but this has to be my least favorite so far! Im sure you can see why though ;_;

I imagine they confront that soon after though, they cant live in peace knowing that Vanny and the virus is still a threat! I wonder how Glitchtrap/Vanny (?) managed to infiltrate Vanessa's mind again though, in the 3-star ending Burntrap's body is still (slightly) intact so i imagine Glitchtrap/Vanny is just planning something- but of course he/she cannot do anything without someone's (Vanessa's) assistance. Somehow he/she managed to find a breakthrough of sorts after being kicked out from her mind? Or he/she wasn't kicked out and just dormant. Either way another interesting concept!

[carriongoat64]

our lunacid thoughts & peace in games

we really like how lunacid's story is almost nothing like king's field in why youre in the caves, the tomb, the great well, bad place. youre here because youve been cast out, everyone here has been banished from the surface, and you can see the corpses of attempted escapees litter every hall. in the temple of silence their minds left by drilling holes through their own craniums, the majority attempted escape by simpler means. we're here because we contain some shred of evil or darkness or knowledge we shouldnt, or we're ill or we caused basically any hardship at all. everyone who's made peace here is not only living well but thriving and happy. we got to the highest point in the whole game, we can see the rim of the great well bathed in bloomy sorrowful overcast light. there is a closed gate at the end of a small inclined ramp. it is lined with arrows, two corpses frozen preserved in agony soaked in them, clearly if i got too close i'd get shot too. theres no escape but all. ALL the lore books and the stories of the above paint so much worse a picture than what im seeing down here. the sanguine sea is confusing and scary but the intro cutscene shows the surface is an even worse nightmare inflicted by humanity on it's own. the lore books describe in flowing prose all this fear and angst around magic, no one understands, everyone seeks power and knowledge and land, the eras of rule have worn earth thin. down here everyone's either chilling or a monster attacking without a whole lot of reason besides, haunted. territorial. uhh, yknow, maybe theyre just stupid. theres a lot of angst among the vampires, we suspect there was a genocide attempted on the surface, they seemed peaceful for a time before that. the game feels like a love letter to separation from cishet dwelling. we're not the same and we dont really want to be. demi can be found at the great well's surface layer, she says she doesnt want to stick around long. she finds it depressing, and the light hurts her eyes anyway. she doesnt understand why people seek it out so much. it's a long walk down, take some crystal shards to teleport home, to wing's rest. this keeps happening to me in games where i end up fundamentally disbelieving in their initial premises and cant beat them because i just straight up dont want to. the first readable thing in the game, a statue depicting a cleric holding a knight's limp body, says "Newest of the fallen. Take up your sword and fight." Dude i dont wanna fight i want to make a house down here and help feed demi sheryl and etna. clive doesnt need to eat, the goofball former king. actually etna might not need to eat either she's an astral projection. demi and sheryl definitely do though, and sheryl needs sleep too. this is why im obsessed with the idea of a fantasy city builder. games could depict peace with realistically positive politics but never choose to, for so many miserable reasons. you only get explicitly homesteader colonizer shit or you get like, really vague minecraft end poem and jewish stereotypes with an optimal game mechanic including stealing their babies away to raise in a literal minimum viable ghetto for your iron farm and enchant trades. ahhh im persistently mad at minecraft :D

[theotherhalfoftheshell]

To short to post on a03, but it feels finished so

'bad hero' - Keigo comes home from a mission gone bad and Touya comforts him. Set in my Villian!hotwings verse.

~angst, angst with comfort, imposter syndrome 600words

(Under the cut)

"I wasn't good enough. They died because I couldn't do the one thing I was made to do. Im a shitty excuse for a hero," Keigo whispers into his knees. Curled into himself the remnants of his wings trying to curl around him.

Laid on his side in their nest, refusing to look at Touya. What's left of his uniform was hatefully tossed into that corner of the room.

Touya lays next to him, giving Keigo ample room and time to escape his touch if he wanted to. He starts to gently stroke a hand through Keigo's dirt and blood crusted hair, "you did your best, no one could've stopped that storm. Hundreds of people have you to thank for their life today, Keigo."

"And a hundred more are lying dead under the rumble because I wasn't good enough," his voice is flat, not an accusation but a fact. "I was five minutes late. Five minutes," Keigo spits, "do you know how many people I could've saved in those five minutes? But instead I was… I ignored the call because I was…,"

Keigos breath shakes through him seconds away from a sob.

"Because you were with us, planning our next step," Touya finishes for him, realizing finally why this mission was hitting so much harder than all the rest.

"I was here, planning a brutal take down of hero society. Planning for more death," Keigo says, "I was to busy being a traitor, a villian, people died because I chose to play both sides."

They sit in the silence, Keigo trying to breath through the sobs raking their way through his body; Touya doing his best to hold him close while giving him the space his over-sensitive, overworked body needs.

Touyas not sure how much time passes before Keigo quiets.

"Dove, do you want to stop?,"

Touya doesn't speak again till Keigo's golden eyes meet his, "you are an amazing hero. The only hero I have ever or will wholly believe in. I have watched you sacrifice your time, health and well being for the sake of others. You escaped and walked right back into hell for me, for our friends, for a better future and you have never once complained. You have saved countless lives, mine included, put yourself in harm's way, and stopped threats before they could exist. You are unbelievably good and If you want to stop, completely back out of the league, of being 'Hawks' you can, I will support you without hesitation. We can leave it all behind, runaway like we talked about when we were kids. No Hawks or Dabi, no Takami or Todoroki; just me and you Dove."

Touya continues, "Or you can be a hero full time, help people like you always wanted and not be involved in the League's business anymore if that's what you want."

"Touya, we have a plan, we have goals. What about getting our justice. We cant let that go, I cant let that go, what they did to you, to us just because i'm too weak-," Keigo stutters out.

"You are the strongest person I know," Touya says firmly.

Keigo sighs, lacking the energy for that fight, "you deserve to be seen."

Touya kisses his cheek gently, "and you deserve peace. I want you to be happy, I want you to know how incredible you are and that's it. Revenge would be sweet, but not at the cost of you."

"You'd let it go for me?," Keigo asks.

"I'd do anything for you," Touya admits, reverent as a prayer.

"Ask me again in the morning."

"Of course, Dove."

"I love you."

"I love you too."