#angst without a happy ending

[glwmcres]

can’t stop thinking about trying to help clarisse in the war and her losing you :/

she thought you were doing good at first, you were. no one had gotten close enough to touch you, you were winning. until you weren’t.

she looked away for a minute, a single minute, just 60 seconds. when she looked back you were on the ground, blood slowly seeping out of your abdomen.

her face falls as her tears well up in her eyes. she almost drops her weapon to run over to you. quickly dropping down to her knees as she looks over you.

she’s scared to touch you but needs to stop the bleeding before it’s too much. she lets out a breath as she pushes her hands over your wound, trying to minimize the bleeding. the pressure making you grunt as your eyes open up and look up at her.

she can save you, she tells herself. she needs to save you. she can’t let you go like this.

she’s so caught up in the way your blood is covering her hands that she doesn’t notice you staring at her. she finally looks up at your face and lets more tears fall. she leans down at presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

“it’s okay, i promise… it’ll be okay..” she chokes out as more tears fall freely down her face. she pulls you into her lap and she holds onto you, not wanting to let go.

“i love y-you, clarisse,” you take a small breath as you grab onto her hand, pulling it towards your lips as you press a kiss to her. “more than anything..” you whisper out to her.

she sobs as she watches your eyes go hazy as they flutter close, your body falling limp in her hold. she presses a long kiss against your forehead again and she sobs, her tears falling from her onto your face.

“i love you, y/n. i’m so sorry.”

did yall like this or :3

i might do short drabbles like this more often?? i did most of this at like 3am :P

#clarisse la rue x reader #lesbian #wlw #dior goodjohn #pjo series #percy jackson #clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x fem!reader #glwmcres #clarisse la rue angst #angst without a happy ending #pjo angst #drabble #made this at 3am

[tb3ih]

A TEST OF ANGUISH (pt. 4), kamisato ayato/reader

SYNOPSIS… they love is not for the weak of heart OR KAMISATO AYATO has more buried in his rib cage than he lets on. 

⋆   warnings, kamisato ayato & fem-presenting!reader, a smidge of confrontation, pain pain pain. ⋆   notes, ayato is actually an allusion to my ex lmaooo.

⋆ tags! @kiyoomiwo @hotgirlshit5 @kunikuzushisbeloved @iamnotobsessed @lightoftheamethyst @xiaosonlybeloved @jcrml @kireeen @isotofl @iiyumii @neverlandlostchild @lumpywolf @mrs-heelshire @nickey-diano @irisxiel @esthelily @chiisananingen @goodsoup101 @the-real-fandom-person @whatamidoing89 @ayatoslovelywife @lorkai @bambambunny @i-3at-kidz @kyauyumira @pineapplesneedrights @atlas-rin @hyunromi @simplyhumanlol

YOUR fingers are gentle as you thread them through sora’s hair, carefully threading the strands together until it’s a braided crown of blue. you’ve just finished tucking in the last bits of hair into her braid when you see the coloring; it’s faint, but her light blue has begun to shift to a deeper indigo at her roots. 

“okaasan, am i pretty yet?” her light indigo irises are fixed on you through the reflecting vanity mirror. sora had sensed your halt in motion, her smile innocent and inquiring. 

you bring an easy smile to your lips, pressing a gentle kiss to her hair before reassuring her. “you have always been the most beautiful to me.” your hands move to adjust to the collar of her formal dress, the light purple blossoms peeking out just over her shoulders. you had this dress made just before you left the kamisato estate, hopeful that she might be able to wear it during summer festivities rather than a trial between two dominant clans. 

a reality which you seem to be so detached from as of late. 

it had been a couple months since you’ve moved out of your old residence, a decision you made in the best interest of you and your daughter, and yet you can’t help the strange welling in your heart at the thought of having to set foot inside once more. 

a house once full of unity, now harboring distrust and tension, you had no choice to bring sora back to it. as the sole heir to the hayashi matriarch and the only child of the head of the yashiro commission, sora could not be absent. 

“sora,” you begin, “i just want you to know… that, uhm…” there’s a lump in your throat and something tickles at your tear ducts. your daughter turns to face you on her chair, her smaller hands coming to cup around your face as her expression fills with worry. “i’m alright, flower, no need to worry.” you bring a hand to place on hers, thumb rubbing softly against the back of her hand in comfort.

“after today, if somethings don’t go the way i planned,” you explain, “i don’t want you to think for even a second that i don’t love you. not ever.” the thought of having to give her up had been tormenting you the past few weeks after the elders had brought into question succession for both clans with the continuance of a divorce. 

between the yashiro commission and the hayashi clan, there was only one legitimate heir. and you’re sure everyone who was anyone in the room would want a claim to your sora. 

“everything will be alright as long as i’m with mama,” sora replies quietly, offering a soft smile. there was absolutely nothing you wouldn’t do for this little girl. 

you press a soft kiss to her forehead. “let’s hope that never changes.”

holding her hand in yours, the two of you leave the room, making it down the hall to the grand room where the most important meetings are held. the few elders which had gathered outside the door lower their gazes and bow, offering you their respects. The guards outside the door stand in position of salute, only moving back to a position of attention when you nod. 

there are whispers among the few which you pass on your way towards the doors, their voices hushed but not quiet enough for you to miss. 

“a pity the yashiro commission has to incur such a loss over a petty issue,” one criticizes. 

“you’d think as a matriarch she’d be more understanding and mature,” the other replies. “it seems ridiculous to stage such a trial between clans, no?”

sora looks up at you with confusion in her eyes, and you simply bring a soft smile to your face, shaking your head in dismissal. “you pay them no mind, flower.” you stop just before the doors, your free hand coming to signal to the door keepers. “vermin who mooch off of their diluted family ties hold no opinion in the court of nobility.”

there are some hushed gasps behind you and you see your daughter giggle, the doors coming to open before you to reveal a larger room of gathering nobles. directly in front of you at the grand table, kamisato ayato sits beside his younger sister, an image of placid indifference reflected in his figure. 

the elders seated in the room took to their feet, offering a bow of acknowledgement as you approached the room. ayato was delayed in his response, standing moments later and offering a deep bow. 

you bowed in response, sinking deeply before returning back to your full height. Akane appeared at your side at once, ushering sora to the side seats where she could sit but remain in proximity to you. 

“matriarch of the hayashi clan, i, kamisato ayato, head of the kamisato clan, greet you humbly. regardless of the outcome, i wish all good intentions during this trial.” his voice is smooth and courteous, but void of any emotion, yet another twist to the knife in your heart. 

“i, hayashi y/n, head of the hayashi clan, wish you well in this fair trial and hope you accept the ruling without protest,” you reply, smile soft and polite. 

you see his jaw tick at this, a feeling of satisfaction settling deep in your bones. 

when the doors open one final time, it is everyone’s turn to bow, for the raiden shogun comes waltzing in, voice calm and level when she asks, “shall we get started then?”

"SHE was born on the kamisato estate, by natural laws she is the kamisato clan’s right!” an elder at the table, whom you recognize to be one of the most senior among those gathered from the opposing party. she only ever liked the number on the profit amount your marriage brought her. “this is inarguably–”

one of the elders from your side stands from his chair, violet eyes seething at the remark. “inarguable? it was not in the contractual agreement!” 

the air is tense with anger, confusion, and stubbornness, all of which you remain aware of yet quiet. your eyes are trained on your husband, his eyes also never leaving yours since the moment the both of you sat down. 

it isn’t until the raiden shogun speaks do the two of you avert your eyes to her. “why are the lot of you discussing the little girl as if she’s a mere object? Have you any respect for the child?” her violet eyes are narrowed and gaze is pointed, as if to pierce straight through anyone who might answer her conjecture incorrectly. 

“n-no, almighty s-shogun–” 

another elder stands, trembling before the archon. “please, we didn’t mean any insolence–”

“and yet,” raiden continues, “i have yet to hear anything remotely negotiable in the past two hours i’ve been stuck sitting in this chair. tell me, have you any idea what the girl is like? taken the time to understand who sora is?”

at this, ayato flinches, the question itself more indirectly intended for him. 

“it is true that by natural law sora is entitled to the kamisato clan,” raiden begins, the faces of all those in favor of the aforementioned clan lighting up in delight, “but after further examination of the justification for the divorce, it would seem that she is, inarguably, the rightful heir to the hayashi clan.”

protest begins to break out amongst the elders and you feel the heat clawing at the back of your throat, the tickle of electricity in the air as everyone begins to overwhelm you. before you can react, there is a burst of blue, water form the shape of blades pointed at every elder in the room. 

“all of you, hush!” it is your husband, hands clenched on the table and expression tight with rage. “had it not been for any of you, we would never be in this mess to begin with!”

the room is silent but for the ticking of the clock. his words ring through your head, a mixture of confusion and anger swirling in the pit of your stomach. 

“the elders?” your voice is just barely a whisper. “i spent nearly a decade wasting away in a loveless marriage and you want to blame the elders?!” 

your husbands eyes are wide when they meet yours, his mouth open as if his words were not meant to be his. 

you laugh coldly. “i knew you were a low creature, but i had never thought you to be pathetic enough to continue blaming everyone but yourself–”

“i do blame myself! i am the only one i blame!” ayato’s eyes are a mix of desperate blue and you’re not sure what to think of it. “i sleep alone and walk past empty rooms where you and sora used to play. i sit at an empty table where we used to eat. i waste away in a home of ghost and absent memories, do not tell me that i do not blame myself!”

“then where were you?” you think he’s unbelievable. “where. were. you? i brought her into this world alone. she received her vision without you. her first summer festival, without you. archons, ayato! where were you?!”

“i thought you hated me!”

“you’re the one who told me we were married for politics!”

“because i wanted you to hurt!”

“why?”

“because i love you!” he is huffing and attempting to catching his breath. he runs his hands through his hair frustratedly, looking around at the room of eyes all on him. lowering his voice, he continues, “from the moment i met you, i loved you, and i have never felt like i was enough and thought of bringing you anything but happiness did terrible things to me.”

you swallow the lump inn your throat. “so you abandoned me?”

he can’t meet your eyes. “i felt if you were too close, you might discover the worst of me. that maybe if you–”

“no. no, ayato, don’t be cruel,” you interrupt, shaking your head. You will not hear any of this. you stand from your chair, a look of anguish on your face when you meet those beautiful cerulean irises. “you have no right to say that.” 

he stands too, hand almost reaching towards you. “my dearest–”

“no!” your voice cracks and you pick up the skirt of your dress, back up towards the doors which you came in. “you can curse at me, insult me, do your worst, but you have no right to plead your love to me!”

sora stands from her chair and comes running to you, her small hands clasping at yours. you gather her in your arms, ordering the guards to open the doors. you turn to face your husband who, having rushed from the other side of the table, stands just meters away from you. 

“you are a cruel man, kamisato ayato.” your eyes are sharp with hatred, your expression twisted with pain. you bow in acknowledgement to the raiden shogun, who nods back. you meet the gazes of all the elders in the room before replying, “this trial is over, i will hear no more of your grievances.”

and you turn and run. you escape. you leave with sora in your arms your past on your tail.

because love shouldn’t hurt. it shouldn’t.

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 5 (coming soon!)

© tb3ih mmxxiv all rights reserved.

#xx tb3ih #genshin x reader #genshin impact #ayato angst #ayato x reader #ayato imagines #ayato x you #ayato x y/n #angst #angst without a happy ending #genshin angst #genshin impact angst #genshin impact ayato #kamisato ayato #ayato kamisato

[quinzzelx]

Don't Go

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Azriel thought he knew what pain was. But faced with the consequences of battle, he shatters.

Word Count: 4.8K

Warnings: Heart-shattering angst. I'm sorry, this does not have a happy ending. Death. I need to still proofread this!

A/N: One of my favorite Band's songs, one that I hold very dear to my heart, is called "Don't Go"... Let's just say, this song expresses the feelings of this perfectly. If you are interested in an alternate ending, one with a happy one, let me know.

☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆

I was raised in the valley There was shadows and death Got out alive but with scars I can't forget

You never imagined that drowning could be so tranquil. Drifting, falling, floating deeper into the abyss, your once-alert eyes now glazed over with a distant emptiness. The shimmering surface of the moon above reflected in the water, casting a serene glow upon the scene. Despite the turmoil raging within you, the water remained calm, almost comforting as it enveloped you.

With each passing moment, consciousness slipped further away, your limbs heavy and unresponsive. The light above grew dimmer, more distant, as you descended into the depths. A sharp pang in your chest served as a grim reminder of impending death, your lungs screaming for air that was nowhere to be found. The burning agony of suffocation clawed at your throat, the water filling your lungs with each desperate gasp.

This was the end. At the age of 347, a mere blink in the lifespan of a Fae, you faced your demise. While humans might find such longevity unfathomable, for your kind, it was but a fraction of existence. Yet, as the final bubbles of air escaped your lips and rose toward the surface, a sense of peace washed over you. Despite the fear that once gripped your heart, in this moment, all was calm.

Your death would not be in vain. You had fought until the very end. And now, as you surrendered to the depths of the lake, you found solace in the embrace of the water, welcoming you home. Your vision blurred, the edges of your consciousness fading as you struggled to stay afloat. Every movement sent waves of agony rippling through your body, your broken bones protesting with searing pain. Despite your efforts, the darkness continued to close in, suffocating you with its crushing weight.

But then, a sensation unlike any other tore through you, a visceral reaction that seized your heart in a vice-like grip. Panic surged through your veins, amplified by the frantic beating of your heart. It was as if every fiber of your being screamed out in terror, a primal instinct that screamed for survival.

Ears ringing and throbbing with agony, you felt a sharp, stabbing pain shoot through your skull as your eardrums burst under the immense pressure. The pain was excruciating, a relentless assault on the last bit of strength you held onto.

An orphan and a brother and unseen by most eyes I don't know what it was that made a piece of him die Took a boy to the forest Slaughtered him with a scythe Stamped on his face An impression in the dirt Do you think the silence Makes a good man convert?

In the tumultuous landscape of the Illyrian Mountains, whispers of dissent had been stirring for years. Cassian's hunch had sparked a relentless pursuit of the rebels, their motives driven by a desire to reclaim power and revert to antiquated traditions. Their disdain for the new order, especially Rhysand's leadership, fueled their rebellion.

Months of meticulous investigation led Azriel to their hidden stronghold, nestled deep within the rugged terrain. The plan was in motion: pairs deployed, each with a specific mission. Cassian and Feyre, Rhysand and Mor, Nesta and Azriel, and you with Gwyn and Emerie tasked with liberating the captive females.

Amidst the chaos of battle, Azriel wielded Truthteller with lethal precision, dispatching adversaries with practiced ease. Yet, his focus fractured when Emerie and Gwyn rushed to his side, your absence glaringly apparent. Dread coiled in his gut as Gwyn's wide-eyed gaze met his. It was then that Azriel noticed your absence, a sinking feeling gnawing at his gut. "Where is she?" His voice was tight with worry, urgency lacing his words. Her response only fueled his anxiety. "There was a group of about ten. She's our best fighter, and she insisted we go for help." Azriel's instinctive reaction was to scowl at Gwyn's decision to leave you behind, but he knew you were capable. Still, the thought of you facing such odds alone churned his stomach. So many of them? Fuck, he had to find you. A glance at Nesta was enough as she immediately nodded. "Find her." With a silent nod, Azriel launched himself into the sky, his wings slicing through the air with a fierce determination. The urgency of his mission spurred him onward, each powerful beat bringing him closer to the treeline that marked the edge of the battlefield.

It was only recently, during your parting, that the bond between you had awakened with startling clarity. The sensation pulsed within him, a potent reminder of your connection. How had he overlooked it for so long? The question gnawed at him as he scanned the landscape below, every hut, every tent, every clearing scrutinized for any sign of you.

As he neared the cliffside, a gust of wind carried the pungent scent of blood, assaulting his senses with brutal force. Panic seized him, his chest constricting with a primal fear as he descended closer to the source of the chaos. Then, amidst the carnage, he felt it—a flicker of your presence, fragile yet unmistakable.

We all have our horrors And our demons to fight But how can I win when I'm paralyzed? They crawl up on my bed Wrap their fingers round my throat Is this what I get for The choices that I made?

Landing with a staggering thud, Azriel stumbled forward, his chest heaving as he fought to quell the rising panic. Ears ringing, he scanned the scene before him, desperate for any sign of you amidst the chaos of battle. The sight of severed limbs and pools of blood sent a shiver down his spine, his heart hammering with dread. The battlefield was a scene of utter devastation, a macabre tableau of violence and chaos. Bodies littered the ground, their limbs twisted at unnatural angles, pools of blood mingling with the churned earth. The air was thick with the metallic tang of blood and the acrid scent of sweat and fear.

A sudden sound to his right shattered the eerie silence, drawing Azriel's attention like a predator honing in on its prey. His eyes narrowed, scanning the landscape until they landed on a figure slumped against a tree stump. The Illyrian's battered form was a testament to the brutality of the conflict, bruises marring his face, blood staining his clothes. As Azriel approached, his shadows coiled around him like vengeful serpents, an ominous aura of danger emanating from his every movement. His broad shoulders were squared, his stare intense and unwavering, like the embodiment of death itself stalking through the battlefield.

The Illyrian male flinched as Azriel loomed over him, a towering figure of wrath and retribution. With a swift motion, Azriel snatched him by the collar, yanking him up and pressing him against the tree with a force that left no room for defiance. "Where is she?" Azriel's voice was a low, menacing growl, barely contained fury simmering beneath the surface. The Illyrian snarled in response, his bruised and bloodied face contorted with defiance. He spat into Azriel's face, a vile mixture of blood and saliva, his defiance fueling the flames of Azriel's rage. "I won't tell you a gods damn thing, Bastard," he spat, his voice dripping with venom.

Azriel's fury intensified as he tightened his grip, bones cracking and snapping under his relentless grasp, the Illyrian's defiant sneer faltering as pain seared through him. "Tell me where she is," Azriel growled, his voice a dangerous rumble that reverberated through the air like a thunderclap, echoing the storm raging within him.

The Illyrian's lips curled into a twisted grin, his defiance unyielding even in the face of Azriel's wrath. "Your whore? We took care of her," he taunted, his voice laced with malice as he sought to goad Azriel further. Azriel's gaze darkened, a storm of fury brewing behind his eyes as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against the Illyrian's face. With a swift motion, he slammed him against the tree once more, the force of the impact jarring his senses. "You will regret those words," Azriel growled, his voice dripping with icy venom. In an instant, Azriel's shadows surged forward, wrapping around the Illyrian's limbs like vengeful tendrils, constricting and squeezing with crushing force. The Illyrian's defiant grin faltered, replaced by a look of sheer terror as he struggled against the suffocating darkness. Azriel's grip tightened, his fingers digging into the Illyrian's flesh as he leaned in closer, his voice a low, menacing whisper. "You will tell me everything," he snarled, his words a promise of retribution as he unleashed the full extent of his wrath upon the helpless captive.

Azriel's gaze hardened, his patience wearing thin as he pressed the Illyrian harder against the tree. "You will tell me," he insisted, his voice a deadly whisper. "Or I will make you wish you had."

With a defiant glare, the Illyrian spat back, "You can't scare me, Shadowsinger. I'd rather die than betray my comrades."

Azriel's jaw clenched, his fury simmering just beneath the surface as he stared down at the defiant captive. "So be it," he growled, his voice cold and unforgiving. "But know this, your death will be swift compared to the torment I will unleash upon those who have harmed her."

With a final, chilling glare, Azriel released his grip, allowing the Illyrian to crumple to the ground in a heap. Azriel's heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing like thunder in his ears as he stumbled forward, the weight of the bond pressing down on him like a suffocating shroud. Desperation clawed at him as he scanned the surroundings, his senses straining to pick up any sign of your presence.

God forgive me for all my sins God forgive me for everything God forgive me for all my sins God forgive me God forgive me

As he reached the edge of the cliff, overlooking the vast expanse of the lake, a sinking feeling settled in the pit of Azriel's stomach. Where were you? His mind raced, frantically trying to piece together the puzzle of your disappearance. And then it hit him, a searing pain shooting through his head as the bond between you wavered and dimmed. Gasping for breath, he clutched at his chest, his vision swimming with panic and fear. He couldn't lose you, not like this.

Azriel's mind reeled as the realization struck him like a bolt of lightning. You were dying, and he had only just discovered that you were his mate. The weight of the revelation bore down on him, suffocating him with a sense of dread and urgency. With a fierce determination, he forced himself to focus, pushing aside the overwhelming surge of panic threatening to consume him. He cursed himself for not recognizing your distress sooner, for failing to protect you when you needed him most.

The sensation of suffocation intensified, the air growing thick and heavy around him. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't bear the thought of losing you. Then it hit him like a physical blow, his eyes widening in horror as the truth dawned on him. "No," he whispered hoarsely, his voice trembling with fear and desperation. In an instant, he was on his feet, his movements fueled by a primal instinct to save you at any cost. The chaos unfolding at the cliffside suddenly made sense, and he knew what he had to do.

With lightning speed, he leapt into the depths below, his senses on high alert as he scanned the eerie still surface of the lake. Every fiber of his being screamed for you, a silent plea echoing in the depths of his soul. No, no, no. He couldn't lose you. Not now. Not ever.

Don't go I can't do this on my own Don't go I can't do this on my own Save me from the ones That haunt me in the night I can't live with myself So stay with me tonight Don't go

Frantically, Azriel swept over the vast expanse of the lake, his heart pounding in his chest with each beat of his wings. The enormity of the task ahead overwhelmed him, but he refused to succumb to despair. With each passing moment, the silence from the other side of the bond grew louder, echoing in his mind like a haunting refrain.

"Please," he pleaded silently, his thoughts a desperate mantra as he called out your name into the void. "Hold on, just a little longer." He tugged at the fragile thread of the bond, hoping for some sign of life, some glimmer of reassurance. But there was only emptiness, a faint flicker that threatened to snuff out entirely.

Then, like a beacon in the darkness, a glimmer of light caught his attention, reflecting off the surface of the water below. It was a small ray of hope amidst the vast uncertainty, and Azriel clung to it with all his strength. Grateful for the clarity of the lake's icy waters, he scanned the depths below, searching for any sign of you.

And then he saw it—a flash of metal glinting in the moonlight, unmistakably your sword. His heart leaped with a mixture of relief and dread as he circled the area, his keen eyes scouring the surroundings for any trace of you. With a surge of determination, Azriel dove into the clear waters of the lake, his muscles straining with the effort as he propelled himself downward. Anxiety gripped him like a vice, each stroke of his wings a desperate plea for your safety.

His heart hammered in his chest as he descended deeper into the murky depths, his senses keenly attuned to every movement, every shadow that flickered in the water around him. The pressure of the water pressed in on him, threatening to crush him with its weight, but he pushed on, fueled by the urgency of the situation.

"Please," he prayed silently, the word a fervent prayer on his lips as he scanned the darkness below. The faint outline of your form came into view, a haunting specter in the gloom, and his heart clenched with fear at the sight.

His Illyrian wings strained against the resistance of the water, their powerful beats driving him ever closer to you. Every fiber of his being screamed for him to reach you, to pull you from the grasp of the icy depths and into the safety of his arms.

With each stroke of his wings, Azriel descended deeper into the darkness, his heart pounding with a mixture of dread and determination. His fingers strained, grasping for your form as he fought against the relentless pressure of the water.

When he finally reached you, his heart twisted painfully at the sight of your vacant eyes staring lifelessly into the abyss. Gently, he pulled you into his arms, cradling your limp body against his chest as he began the arduous journey back to the surface.

Tell me that you need me 'cause I love you so much Tell me that you love me 'cause I need you so much Tell me that you need me 'cause I love you so much Say you'll never leave me 'cause I need you so much

As he ascended, a sense of urgency gripped him, his movements swift and purposeful as he struggled against the weight of your lifeless form. Halfway to the surface, he summoned his power and with a flicker of shadows, he winnowed to the shore, still holding you tightly in his embrace.

Your body felt unnaturally cold against his, your skin pallid and clammy as he laid you gently on the ground. Panic surged through him as he knelt beside you, his hands shaking as he pressed against your chest, desperate for any sign of life. But there was nothing—no rise and fall of your chest, no flutter of your eyelids. Tears stung his eyes as he stared down at your motionless form, the weight of his failure crushing him with each passing moment. "No," he whispered hoarsely, his voice cracking with emotion as he fought to suppress the rising tide of despair. "No, no, no."

With tears streaming down his cheeks, Azriel bent over your motionless body, his hands trembling as he began chest compressions. Each push was an agonizing reminder of his helplessness, his fingers pressing against your chest with desperate force, willing your heart to respond.

The bond between you dimmed with each passing second, a thin thread of connection that threatened to snap at any moment. But Azriel refused to let go, his mind consumed by a singular determination to bring you back from the brink. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to yours, breathing life into your still body with every exhale. The taste of saltwater lingered on your lips, a bitter reminder of the depths from which he had pulled you.

His movements were frantic, almost desperate, as he continued to alternate between chest compressions and breaths, his own breath ragged with exertion. His wings, normally a symbol of strength and power, drooped at his sides, soaked with water and heavy with the weight of his despair. In the midst of his efforts, he failed to notice the arrival of Cassian, Nesta, Rhys, and Feyre, their shocked gazes fixed upon the scene unfolding before them. They hovered at a distance, unsure of how to intervene, their hearts heavy with the weight of your precarious situation.

But Azriel was lost in his own world, consumed by the task at hand. He refused to acknowledge the fear gnawing at his heart, the dread that threatened to consume him whole if he dared to let it in. Azriel's hands moved with a desperation born of sheer terror, his fingers trembling as they continued to press against your chest. Each compression sent a jolt of anguish through his body, his muscles straining with the effort to bring you back to life. "Please," he whispered, the word barely audible over the rush of blood in his ears. "No, please."

His vision blurred with tears, the world around him reduced to a hazy backdrop of grief and despair. He chanted your name like a prayer, a desperate plea to whatever gods might be listening to spare your life. "You can't go," he pleaded, his voice breaking with emotion. "Not like this." Beside him, Cassian's heart shattered at the sight of his brother's anguish. Stepping closer, he placed a hand on Azriel's back, a silent gesture of support in the face of overwhelming sorrow.

"Brother," he murmured, his voice thick with unshed tears. But before he could say anything more, Azriel's head snapped in his direction, rage blazing in his eyes. "No!" Azriel snarled, his shadows swirling around him in a tempest of fury. Cassian recoiled, his heart aching at the sight of his brother's pain etched so clearly on his face. Feyre's sobs echoed in the background, a haunting melody of grief that underscored the desperation of the moment. Rhys and Cassian shared a look, their expressions mirroring the anguish that weighed heavy on their hearts.

But it was Azriel who bore the brunt of the agony, his entire being consumed by the terror of losing you. As he clung to your lifeless form, he felt the weight of despair pressing down on him, threatening to crush him beneath its unbearable burden. With each passing moment, he watched helplessly as you slipped further away from him. Your lips, once full of color, now turned a lifeless shade of blue, your cheeks growing hollow with every breath you didn't take.

"Please," he begged, his voice raw with anguish. "Do something! Rhys, please!" His words were a desperate plea, a cry for salvation in the face of overwhelming despair. But as Rhys stepped closer, a defeated look on his face, Azriel's heart shattered into a million pieces.

"I... I can't," Rhys murmured, his voice heavy with sorrow. "I'm sorry, brother, but..." Azriel's rage boiled over, his pain spilling out in a torrent of emotion. "You don't understand!" he screamed, his voice cracking with anguish. "She is my Mate!"

Don't go I can't do this on my own Don't go I can't do this on my own Save me from the ones That haunt me in the night I can't live with myself So stay with me tonight

The words hung in the air like a heavy fog, their significance sinking in with a painful clarity. Rhys and Cassian exchanged shocked looks, their faces a portrait of sorrow and disbelief. And as Feyre wept silently in the background, the weight of the truth settled over them. Azriel's cries echoed across the desolate landscape, a symphony of grief that pierced the night with its raw intensity.

With each failed attempt to revive you, his soul fractured a little more, the pain tearing through him like a relentless storm. He clung to you desperately, his fingers digging into your lifeless flesh as if trying to anchor you to the world of the living. But no amount of pleading or praying could bring you back, and with each passing moment, the reality of your loss became more unbearable.

Tears streamed down his cheeks unchecked, mingling with the cold water that surrounded you both. In that moment of utter despair, he felt as if his heart had been ripped from his chest, leaving behind nothing but a gaping void where you once belonged. In the eerie silence that followed, broken only by the lapping of the lake against the shore, Azriel held you close, his heart shattered into a million irreparable pieces.

His tears mingled with the water that now cradled your lifeless form, a cruel reminder of the love that had been torn from him so suddenly. "I love you," he whispered brokenly, his voice barely a whisper against the vast emptiness of the night. "I have always loved you." Each word was a knife to his soul, carving out the depths of his grief with ruthless precision.

As his tears fell upon your face, mingling with the coolness of death, Azriel felt the weight of his loss bear down upon him with crushing force. With trembling hands, he brushed a lock of hair from your forehead, his touch gentle yet filled with unbearable sorrow.

And then, with a heart-wrenching realization, the bond between you flickered and died, snuffed out like a candle in the wind. The agony that tore through Azriel in that moment was unlike anything he had ever known, a searing pain that threatened to consume him whole.

A guttural scream tore from his throat, raw and primal, echoing across the desolate landscape. His shadows burst forth from him in a frenzy of writhing darkness, swirling around him like a tempest unleashed. Rhys acted quickly, raising a protective shield to contain the torrent of emotions that threatened to overwhelm them all. Clutching your lifeless body to his chest, Azriel's whole being shook with terror and despair.

"No, this isn't true," he cried out, his voice a desperate plea to the uncaring heavens. "Don't leave me." But there was no answer, no miracle to bring you back to him. In that moment, the reality of living without you crashed over him like a tidal wave, threatening to drag him under. How could he go on without you? How could he face a world that suddenly seemed so cold and empty?

Your laughter, your smile, the warmth of your touch—all of it was gone now, lost to him forever. And as he held your lifeless body against his, Azriel screamed, a primal cry of anguish that echoed into the night, a haunting lament for a love that had been stolen away too soon.

With his forehead pressed against yours, Azriel wept, his tears mingling with the water that surrounded you both. He pressed a gentle kiss to your cold cheek, his lips trembling with sorrow and regret. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I failed you. I failed us."

The shadows around him finally began to still, their frantic dance slowing to a mournful sway. Rhys lowered his shield, allowing the others to approach, their faces etched with sorrow as they took in the devastating scene before them. Cassian stepped forward first, his expression a mixture of grief and disbelief. "Az," he said softly, his voice thick with unshed tears. "I don't know what to say."

Azriel looked up at his brother, his eyes red-rimmed and haunted. "Say that it's not true," he pleaded, his voice breaking. "Tell me this is just a nightmare and I'll wake up soon." But Cassian could only shake his head, his own heart heavy with grief. "I wish I could," he said quietly. "But this is real, Az. And I'm so sorry."

Azriel's voice cracked with anguish as he spoke, his words a desperate plea to the heavens. "Why you?" he cried, his voice raw with pain. "You were everything good in this world, everything bright and beautiful. Why did it have to be you?"

He clutched your lifeless form tighter to his chest, as if by sheer force of will he could bring you back to life. "It should have been me," he whispered, his voice thick with sorrow. "I'm the broken one, the one who's lived in darkness for so long. You deserved so much better than this."

Tears streamed down his face as he pressed his forehead against yours, his breath hitching in his chest. "I can't do this without you," he confessed, his voice barely more than a whisper. "You were my light, my reason for living. And now you're gone."

His heart shattered into a million pieces as he held you close, the weight of your loss crushing him beneath its unbearable burden. "Please come back," he begged, his voice choked with grief. "I can't bear to live in a world without you."

Don't go I can't do this on my own Don't go Save me from the ones That haunt me in the night I can't live with myself So stay with me tonight

Rhys approached Azriel cautiously, his expression heavy with sorrow. "Az, we need to leave soon," he said gently, his voice barely audible over the howling wind. "You'll freeze to death out here." Azriel's tear-streaked face twisted with fury as he turned to Rhys, his grief-stricken eyes burning with intensity. "I can't leave her here," he growled, his voice thick with emotion.

Rhys nodded solemnly, understanding the depth of Azriel's pain. "I know, brother," he replied softly. "But we can't stay here forever. We need to take her home."

Azriel's sobs echoed through the desolate landscape, his voice barely above a whisper as he pleaded, "Just five more minutes." His gaze remained fixed on your beautiful face, etched with pain and longing.

Rhys and Cassian exchanged a somber glance before silently stepping back, giving Azriel the space and time he needed to say goodbye. The minutes stretched into hours, the sun dipping below the horizon and rising again, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink. But still, Azriel clung to your lifeless form, his whispered pleas of "just a little more" echoing through the silent air. Each passing moment felt like an eternity as Azriel grappled with the reality of your absence. The weight of his grief was palpable, a heavy burden that threatened to consume him. But still, he couldn't bring himself to let go, as if leaving this place would make the devastating truth more real.

As the sun reached its zenith once again, casting long shadows across the landscape, Rhys approached Azriel with a heavy heart. "Az," he said gently, his voice filled with compassion, "we need to go." Azriel's voice was raw with emotion as he stood for the first time since arriving at the desolate shore, still cradling your lifeless form in his arms. His eyes, once filled with anguish, now held a haunted emptiness as he spoke to Rhys, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I can't live without her, Rhys," he confessed, the weight of his words heavy in the air. Each syllable was laden with the depths of his grief, a pain that seemed insurmountable in the wake of your absence. Rhys's heart clenched at Azriel's words, the pain evident in his brother's voice piercing through him like a blade. He could see the devastation etched into Azriel's features, the unbearable weight of loss bearing down on him.

"I know, Az," Rhys murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "I understand. But we have to take her home. She deserves that much." His own grief threatened to overwhelm him, but he pushed it aside, focusing on the task at hand. "We'll give her a proper farewell, Az. Together." Azriel cradled your lifeless form in his arms as he followed Rhys, his steps heavy with grief. He thought of all the moments they had shared together in Velaris, the quiet nights spent stargazing on the balcony, the lazy mornings talking over coffee. He thought of the way your laughter echoed through the streets of the city, a beacon of light in the darkness.

But now, all of those moments felt like distant memories, fragments of a life that was no longer his to hold. As Azriel prepared to winnow back to Velaris, your lifeless form cradled in his arms, he couldn't shake the overwhelming sense of regret that consumed him. He would never get the chance to kiss you again, to hold you close and tell you how much he loved you. He wished he had confessed his feelings before, before the bond had been revealed, before it was too late.

You had died alone, unaware of his love, unaware that you had a mate who cherished you more than anything in this world. The thought tore at his soul, leaving behind a gaping wound that he knew would never fully heal. He would carry the weight of that regret with him for the rest of his days.

But as he prepared to winnow, to leave this desolate place behind and return to Velaris, he knew that he had to find a way to live with the pain, to honor your memory in every moment of his existence. You may be gone, but your love would live on in his heart forever.

With one last lingering look at your peaceful face, Azriel whispered a silent promise to himself, to remember you, to cherish you, to love you for all eternity. And then, with a heavy heart and tear-stained cheeks, he winnowed away, back to Velaris, with you in his arms, your spirit forever intertwined with his own.

Don't go Don't go Don't go Don't go

☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆

A/N: I'm sorry. Whew. I made myself cry while writing this. Please let me know if you enjoyed this and if you'd be interested in an alternative ending. :)

#acotar #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #reader insert #azriel spymaster #x reader #azriel angst #angst #tw death #death #loss #heartbreak #dealing with grief #grief #angst without a happy ending #cassian #rhysand

[codfanficedits]

One more mission.

CW: ANGST. A lot of angst </3 no proofreading because i cried while reading it

Fem!reader x Simon 'Ghost' Riley.

One more mission.

That is what Ghost and you had agreed on. Just one more mission until the two of you would go on a little getaway. A nice, well deserved vacation. Something to relax at after countless missions, countless late nights, countless piles of paperwork. To celebrate your relationship, the five beautiful years that had flown by, to celebrate his stubbornness, to celebrate your kind nature. The best place to celebrate how you had gotten to be his sunshine.

The memories of planning the trip are as warm as the blood that drips through your fingers as you hold your chest. A guttural scream from Ghost is heard from the battlefield. The man sprinted towards you, the thuds of his boots being deafening. He drags you to safety, hiding behind a slab of concrete. Ghost drops on his knees, his hand over yours, pressing on the wound on your chest.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper.

“Don’t.”

“You are going to make it lovey, don’t worry.” You can tell that he wants to believe his own words, but you both know he’s lying. “I’m sorry.” You whisper once more, as your free hand reaches for your dog tags, taking them off and offering them to Ghost. “So you can keep me close to your heart.”

It was as if his soul came apart as he listened to your words. “No, no, no. Sweetheart. Don’t you say a word. I’m not losing you. You hear me? God damn it, I will tear this world apart for you.” His voice breaks into sobs when he speaks to you.

You had never seen Ghost crying, and all it took was for you to die.

The hand he has on yours tightens its grip on you, if God would’ve asked him what he wanted in exchange of his soul, it would’ve been you. More time with you. More cuddles with you, more kisses from you, more love making. More. More. More. But God had abandoned his best soldier in times of need.

Blood kept seeping through your fingers, it stained your hand, his hand, your uniform and his too. But Ghost didn’t mind, not at all. You had gotten dizzy from the amount of blood you had lost, a wave of nausea came over you. You were running out of time and the both of you knew it. “There is a picture book under my bed.” You say, a faint smile on your lips as you struggle to keep your eyes open. “I’ve captured our moments for the past five years. It was a gift for our vacation. But..” You don’t want to say the last part. If you don’t say it, it doesn’t have to feel real. “Look at it when you miss me.”

“Then it’s all I’ll ever see again.”

You want to tell him to move on after you, to continue with life, but the look in his eyes tells you enough. He always thought soulmates were stupid, after all, he loved you on purpose, but Ghost changed his mind, right there and then.

The skullmask gets lifted, the balaclava too, and his soft, warm lips pressed against your forehead.

“Let me see your face.” You murmur and he obeys.

It’s a sight that breaks your heart. A trembling lip, tear filled eyes and so much guilt on his face. “I can’t do this.” He whispers. “I can’t live when you’re gone.”

“But I won’t be gone.”

“What?”

“Look for me in the beauty of life, look for me in the sunrise, the moon, the stars. I’ll be the beauty of the auburn leaves in autumn, a soft breeze on a hot summer day. I’ll be with you through it all.”

His sobs are no longer silent, they’re raw, painful. His lips press kisses against your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, and finally your lips. As If he is trying to keep you alive through his love. And to be fair, if love would be enough to survive, you would’ve lived forever.

The both of you knew the risks of being in the military, but it never occurred to you that it would be the reason you would die, that it would be the reason you would never marry, grow old, get your own kids, or a few dogs for that matter. It was bittersweet. The army would cost you your life, but you had gained Ghost, you had gained Simon, and your life seemed like a fair price for the love he had given you.

You could feel that it was time, there was barely a pulse left. What you would’ve done for a little more time with him. “Flowers.” You whisper. “I want so much flowers on my funeral.”

“I’ll get you all the flowers I can find.” He answers with a choked voice.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

You can close your eyes after his words, you’re tired, and while your mind isn’t ready to go, your body can’t hold on much longer.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He holds you while your body goes limp. Holding your head against his chest as he cried, wailed and screamed as loud as he could, halfway through, he hoped you could hear him scream on your way to heaven, so you would turn around and come back to him.

One more mission. And the two of you would go on vacation. One more mission and Ghost would have some time off with the love of his life.

One more mission and you came home in a body bag instead of in his arms.

He kept his promise to you. Getting all the flowers the funeral home would allow him to and then a few extra he had snuck in through his suit. The two of you had jokingly discussed him wearing royal blue suit on your wedding day, and now he was wearing it to your funeral.

Ghost tried to speech on your funeral, he really did.

“I wish we had more time.” He started. “I miss you terribly. The world is too quiet without you nearby.”

His voice left him after those words, his eyes filling with hot tears as his vision got blurry. But they all understood. No one needed him to finish speaking to understand the love he had for you.

And so the hours after your passing turn into days, they turn into weeks. Ghost finally had the courage to look for the picture book you had described. The sight of all those pictures made him curl up into a ball and bawl his eyes out. He never knew you had taken so many pictures of him when he wasn’t looking, and he was thanking the Gods that he could see himself through your eyes.

The picture book is located in his bedroom, accompanied by a black, velvet box. An engagement ring that never made it to you.

One more mission, before he would propose to you.

The hours after your passing turn into days, they turn into weeks, into months.

And now Ghost can finally see your beauty in the world. You’re the soft blue sky filled with white clouds. You’re the eclipse he went to see with Soap. You’re all the flowers that bloom around him, the mushrooms he finds in autumn, the soft blanket of snow in winter. You’re it all and he is no longer afraid to open his heart for it.

The hours after your passing turn into days, they turn into weeks, into months, into years and Ghost opens the door to his balcony, watching over the sunrise you promised him you’d be.

“I miss you more than I remember you.”

#call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #call of duty #cod mwii #cod x reader #angst #ghost x reader #ghost x you #angst without a happy ending #tw death #im sorry #not really #ghost angst #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #simon riley x you #fanfiction #fanfic #cod fanfic

[buckyispunk]

Better Man

Alcoholic!Joel Miller x Reader

masterlist

Summary: Falling in love with Joel Miller is heaven. It's leaving him and forcing yourself to move on that's hard. Inspired by Taylor Swift's "Better Man."

A/N: Very angsty, please don't read if you're not a fan of heartbreak! Huge shoutout to one of my fav authors, @macfrog, for the beta!

Warnings: alcoholism, smoking (cigarettes), Joel yelling and throwing things (he never hurts reader tho), Joel being mean, littering (just for the sake of the fic, please don’t in real life), idrk what else lmk if I'm missing anything please

Word Count: 2.2k

All lyric credit goes to T-Swift!!

Rain beats down against your car window. You watch water droplets roll down the glass. You’ve got the radio on, waiting for the storm to let up so you don’t get soaked on the walk into your apartment. A glint of red from the passenger side floor catches your eye. A carton of Marlboro cigarettes - Joel’s cigarettes. How long had they been there?

You’re walking into the bar with your friends when you see him for the first time, cigarette hanging between his lips. He’s leaning up against the brick wall, clad in faded jeans and a worn flannel. His grey hair is curling at the ends. He takes the cigarette between two fingers and pulls it from his mouth. His broad chest expands as he inhales deeply before blowing a cloud of smoke past his pink lips. Grey wisps linger in the humid Texas air as he calls out to you. 

“Hey darlin,’” he drops the cigarette and stomps it under a work boot, leaving a black, ashy stain on the concrete beneath. “‘S a nice outfit,” he nods his chin in gesture, “Can I buy you a drink?”

You had spent the rest of that night curled into his arm in a sticky booth seat, discussing childhood crushes, family trauma, and everything in between. The rest, as they say, had been history. Joel had picked you up the next weekend, flowers in hand and nervous sweat on his brow. His southern charm had you falling for him dangerously quickly. Luckily, he was just as head over heels for you - you could tell by the fascination in his eyes as he hung on to your every word whenever you offered up new information about yourself, like he was a starved man and your words were his sustenance.

I waited on every careless word Hoping they might turn sweet again like it was in the beginning

The day Joel asked you to move in with him was one of the best of your life.

You open the door to his house to find him standing in the entryway, bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand. His other hand is clutching something small, concealing it. 

“Hey, hon,” he shifts from foot to foot, “How was work?”

“Fine, babe,” you gesture to the flowers, “What’s all this?”

“I-um,” he scrunches his brows and hesitates for a moment, “so, you’re almost always over here already anyway. I want to spend as much time as possible with you. Want you cuddled up with me in our bed every night. Want to come home to you after a hard day at work. Want to be here to take care of you when you have bad days, too. I love you and I guess what I’m askin’, darlin’, is if you’d move in with me?”

He unfurls his other hand, presenting a key. You quirk a brow in surprise. 

“Oh my gosh, Joel,” you stare at him in disbelief as his expression turns into one of nerves and anticipation. 

“Yes!” you practically screech, excitement flooding your body. 

You run over to Joel and wrap your arms around his waist, burying your face into his strong chest. Joel sets the flowers down on the nearest surface and embraces you with one arm. His other hand lowers to slip the house key into your pants’ pocket. 

After that, he had carried you upstairs and made love to you. You fell asleep in Joel’s doting embrace as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear. Living with Joel had been everything he’d promised. Until it wasn’t. It had been when he and his crew were working on a particularly rough job that things started to change. 

He transitioned from drinking on special occasions or when out with friends to having a beer or two every night with dinner. You didn’t think too much of it at first. It was only when he started downing several glasses of whiskey a night that you got concerned. You asked him about it, wondering why the sudden change. I just need it to help me relax after work, hon. He’d promised you that it wasn’t an issue, this is just a really hard job. He brushed you off every time you’d tried to talk to him about it.

His drinking started to come between the two of you. He would opt to have a beer and watch football rather than spend time or share conversation with you. On nights when there wasn’t a game on, he’d go out to the bar - sometimes with buddies from work, sometimes alone. 

He was too tired to take you out, too stressed to do anything more than press a chaste kiss to your lips once in a while. He began to get irritated easily - the two of you found yourself arguing over meaningless things often. It seemed the only time he wasn’t complaining was when he had a drink in his hand. He’d passed out in his recliner watching TV nearly every night during that project. You’d lie in bed and fall asleep waiting for his side of the mattress to dip with his weight, only to wake up the next morning and find him gone for work.

When the project ended and he had some time off, you expected him to lighten up on the drinking. With all the extra time he had, things only got worse. You’d leave for work and he would still be asleep. You would come home every night to find him with a beer bottle in hand and empty ones at his feet.

Talking down to me like I’d always be around Push my love away like it was some kind of loaded gun

One night, you’d tried, for what seemed like the hundredth time, to talk to him about it. 

You come home after a long day of work to find Joel snoring in his recliner. He’s wearing boxers and a t-shirt - he hardly ever gets dressed anymore. It’s times like these when you could almost pretend everything is normal. That he’ll hear you and wake up. That he’ll jump up and give you a hug, make you dinner, ask you about work. Instead, you watch a string of drool run down his chin.

You make your way over to him and gently remove the bottle from his hand, setting it on the table. You run a hand through his hair and shake his shoulder, rousing him. 

“Oh, hey,” he hiccups. 

You can smell the alcohol on his breath. You hear his stomach rumble and wonder whether he’d even bothered to eat anything today. 

“Hey, babe,” you muster the most sincere smile you can, foolishly hoping that you might get one in return. 

He looks past you and grabs the bottle from the table. 

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough to drink today, baby? How about I make us some dinner, we can sit and eat together like we used to,” you offer. 

You reach to take the sweating bottle from him, but he raises a hand to stop you.

“I jus’ wanted to finish watching the game, babe. How ‘bout t’morrow?” he slurs. 

“Joel I really think you should see someone about the drinking. It’s not healthy for you. I love you and I miss you. I want to help you, baby.”

He stands from the chair, grip tightening on his bottle.

“I know my own fuckin’ limits, thank ya very much,”  his sharp tone makes you flinch. 

“Can you at least eat something? This isn’t good for you.” 

“Jesus, will you just leave me alone?” his lips wrap around the opening of the bottle and he turns the bottle up, letting the rest of the alcohol pour down his throat. He turns to walk away from you and you reach a hand out to grab his forearm.

“I’ll make you your favorite dinner, Joel. It’s been months, baby. You said you’d lay off the drinking after the one job, but it’s just gotten worse. You haven’t been working and it’s not healthy for you to stay in the house and drink all day,” you try to reason. “I’ll make dinner for us and we can go to bed together.”

You look into his eyes, searching for a sliver of the man you love. You remember the way he used to look at you as if he would gladly let his heart break into a million little pieces, as long as you were the one shattering it. As if he would do everything in his power, and then some, just to put a smile on your face. As if he would face his demise head on if you were the sight burned into the back of his eyelids as he faded.

Your search is futile. The only thing you find in his dark, bloodshot eyes is something you’re too afraid to call contempt. He lets out an exasperated sigh and mutters your name, “I just want some time to myself. You’re always nagging me about the drinking. It’s not a big deal. I’m just stressed all the time and you’re really not helping. Could you just quit being annoying for once?” He runs a hand through the scruff on his chin.

You drop your hand from his arm as if his skin had scorched you. His words settle like a heavy weight on your chest, keeping you from drawing a full breath. It’s as if his heart holds nothing but distaste for you. You look up at him with watery eyes and try to remember the last time he had even told you he loved you.

“I can’t keep doing this, Joel. I’m going to leave if you don’t get help. Neither of us are happy anymore. Can you please just talk to someone so we can go back to the way things used to be? You can be happy without the alcohol,” you plead with him, trying desperately to reach the Joel that you know is in there somewhere. The Joel you hope is in there, anyway. 

“Will you stop it?” his voice is violently angry, “I don’t need fuckin’ help, I just need to be left the fuck alone!” his southern drawl booms throughout the room.

You startle at his sudden outburst, flinching away from him. You feel your eyes overflow, salty tears leaving wet trails down your cheeks. 

“Goddamn it,” Joel mutters before turning to the wall. He raises his empty bottle and tightens his fist around it. He pulls his arm back and launches the bottle at the wall. It shatters and sends glass flying everywhere. You stand, watching in shock. 

“Joel,” your mouth drops and you step away from him. 

Joel has never hit you. Hell, before tonight, he’d never even yelled at you. But the coldness in his eyes and the way he clenches his fist scares you. You turn and make for the door, wanting to leave before things escalate any more. Tears are streaming down your face as you twist the doorknob. You look back at him as you step out of the house. You see him shake his head as he grabs a bottle of whiskey off the shelf and you close the door behind you without another thought. 

You stayed at your friend’s house that night, sobbing as she told you to leave him. The next morning, you had stood on your front porch, bones heavy with dread, unsure of what you’d find when you opened the door. When you finally worked up the courage to push the door open, you’d been met with the sight of Joel sprawled face-down on the couch, snoring. 

He hadn’t woken as you quietly stepped inside and closed the door behind you. He hadn’t woken as you packed all your belongings into suitcases. He hadn’t woken as you left your house key, along with a tear-stained goodbye note, sitting on the table. He hadn’t woken as you rolled your suitcases outside, packed them into your car, and blocked his number on your cell phone before driving away from Joel. Away from home.  

I know why we had to say goodbye like the back of my hand But I just miss you and I just wish you were a better man

You let out a shaky exhale as you pick the pack of cigarettes up off of the floor. You squeeze your eyes shut and wish, for a moment, that things had never changed - that his hand is still splayed out across your thigh and he’s pouting in the passenger seat beside you, I should be the one driving. You’re supposed to be my passenger princess.

After fidgeting with the cardboard box for a minute, you decide that you’re sick of waiting for the storm to let up. You open the car door and step out into the rain. You release the carton and let it fall to the wet ground. Bringing a shoe down on top of the box, you crush it underneath your foot, as if trying to stomp out a flame - as if trying to stomp out the memories the cigarettes had ignited - and watch raindrops roll off of it. Without looking back, you turn and walk inside.

We might still be in love if you were a better man You would’ve been the one if you were a better man.

#joel x reader #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel fanfic #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfic #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #fanfiction #fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x y/n #tlou #the last of us #angst #angst without a happy ending #joel miller angst

[sweetlywriting]

If possible can you do an angst with floyd leech where you're dating him and he used to call you 'shrimpy' until prefect comes and he starts calling them shrimpy while losing interest in you and eventually ends things with you.

You can do whatever ending but ive just had this in my mind for soooo long😭😭😭😭

If you cant do it then its totally ok!!

Washed away

Floyd Leech x Reader (Fluff to Angst)

A/N-Tysm for this request!! I loved this idea so much let me know if you have more! I had a lot of fun writing it and I hope it’s okay that I started it off fluffy I feel it makes the angst hit harder 😭

You were dazing off in history class, when suddenly professor Trein asks you a question about Savannaclaws next ruler. Seeing your sheepish look he sighs moves on to ask a different student. Happy the embarrassment was only a second you lean back in your chair with a sigh, only to be met with a whisper in your ear.

“It was Cheka Kingscholar, shrimpy”

You whip around to see the Leech brothers behind you, infamously tall and terrifying. Though from the coy taunting voice you could tell it was Floyd. The embarrassment began to trickle back in again as you heard snickers over the nickname. You huffed and stared at the clock on the wall, willing the class to finally be over. Eventually it was, though Floyd’s name calling did not. In lunchtime, the halls, the classes you shared it was never ‘y/n’ just ‘shrimpy’, and it never failed to infuriate you.

One day, after lots of frustration and the desperate thought that he’d be calling you shrimpy til senior year, you finally spooned up the courage to catch up with him after class and ask why he had assigned the odd nickname.

“I just think shrimp are cute” He said shrugging one shoulder and giving you a grin, as though it was the most casual thing in the world.

You felt embarrassed again . . . but maybe for different reasons this time.

“You should come to the maestro lounge sometime, I’ll give you a special deal on shrimp” He said throwing you a wink and flashing you his sharp toothed smile before walking off.

Huh’ you mused ‘maybe I will.’

***

You hummed softly next to your boyfriend as he continued to snore, leaning on your shoulder in his seat. The entrance ceremony was long and Crowley certainly seemed to like the sound of his own droning voice. Being second years the formalities were very much familiar and very much boring to you. Only the occasional game of ‘who can bother Jade the most’, watching the hyper first years scramble around, and seeing Floyd in the classic Octanville robes made the ceremony bearable for the first couple hours. As you started to consider also sleeping in your seat with Floyd an odd gray and blue ball of fur zipped past you with various students chasing after it.

I wonder what’s going on “ you mused lazily, unknowing that this was the beginning of realationships unravel. Your interest started to perk at the scene of dorm wardens joining the chase. Floyd opened his eyes and tilted his head curiously at the sight of the person holding the little gray creature.

“Who do you think that is shrimpy?”

***

With the start of classes and busy beginning of Nightraven college you quickly forgot about the ceremony, and person they called the ‘prefect’ who was rumored to be magicless. Though Floyd seemed to know them well. It truly didn’t bother you at first, you were glad he was making more friends, but it seemed the closer Floyd got to the prefect, the farther he fled from you.

“This is a partner project. I expect a quality presentation on how Scarbia’s climate contributes to its cultural and political systems” Professor Trein announced to the class. Well at least it was a partner project so you could work with-

“Let’s be partners shrimpy”

You froze. It was Floyd’s voice, but it wasn’t directed towards you. He was looking up from his seat behind you smiling at the prefect as they laughed and agreed. You swallowed and swiftly turned back to your own seat, staring at your desk and trying to blink back tears. He didn’t even look at you. and shrimpy was your name!

You flinched feeling a gloved hand from behind on your shoulder, and turned ready to give Floyd a piece of your mind-only to see Jade.

“We can work together y/n” He said a mixture of apology and concern on his face.

“Alright.” You muttered turning back away, not wanting the pity but appreciating the gesture.

***

‘Meet me at the maestro’

It had been so long since Floyd had actually asked to go on a date with you and you were beyond thrilled. Obviously the whole situation with the prefect had been a misunderstanding and he was finally taking the initiative to make it up to you! You dressed well, choosing his favorite colors of turquoise and purple with extravagant pearl and shell accessories while reminiscing on your first date the maestro lounge. Back then he had reserved the entire place for you two, wanted you to try everything, and constantly made you laugh. You held close to that memory as a place of hope, and were ecstatic it was finally paying off.

You slipped out of your dorm as the clock struck twelve and quietly snuck into the lounge.

An uneasy feeling settled in your stomach as you entered, the whole place was dark with all the tables and chairs pushed to the side. ‘Maybe not a dinner date?’ You thought, pulling out two chairs and deciding to wait for him.

After what felt like forever you could finally make out a tall silhouette walking over to you-but flinching back seeing your fancy attire. He didn’t lean over you the way he used too, constantly craning his neck to look at what you were doing, or playfully poke at your hair or nip at your ear. He brooded in his chair, leaning back with an uncomfortable expression and his hands both firmly stuck in his pockets.

Only the two of you and the gentle sound of water remained.

“I’m always going to care about you y/n, but I don’t . . . feel for you anymore” He said this simply. The same simple way he would say ‘I love you’ ‘let me do it for you’ ‘this reminded me of you’. The same simple way he’d gently tug at your hair to get your attention, he’d squeeze your hand tightly in crowds as if afraid to let go, and carefully he held your heart in his hands.

His love and indifference looked so similar but felt so different. You wanted to vomit.

Eventually you did. But not before the crying. Heaving sobs filled the silent room as you brought your knees up to bury your face in. He tried to reach you, saying some words that sounded like apologies but quickly left as you vehemently yelled for him to go.

You felt footsteps and were ready to yell at Floyd to leave again but were surprised to see Jade carrying a box of tissues and a folder.

“I told him not to do that here.” He grimaced seeing your face and pushed the box of tissues towards you.

“I just wanted to let you know I finished the presentation, and I put your lines in that folder, I didn’t want you to worry about the project on top of er-this” Jade said warily, as he began to walk back out wanting to give you space.

“Was it because of the prefect?” Your voice was quiet and strained but impossible to not hear in the still room.

Jade didn’t turn around but nodded, sealing your fate as a new round of your sobs mixed with the fading sound of footsteps. 

#fanfiction #fanfic #x reader #disney twisted wonderland #floyd x reader #floyd leech #twst floyd #twst jade #angst without a happy ending #angst #little fluffy #twisted wonderland #it’s been a longgg time since i’ve written sorry if it’s not great 😭 #how we feeling #part 2?? even more angsty seeing Floyd and prefect together?? getting closer to Jade?? lmk what y’all want

[crp-low-quality-content]

Eyeless jack cheating headcannons

Just because I'm traumatized and rarely have happy scenarios with my S/O characters unless they're women.

Warnings: angst, depression, cheating and mild nsfw.

-I'm very traumatized by relationships, but I still can't see Jack cheating on you, not out of pure willpower.

- but there are two scenarios in which he could do this: scenario 1 would be if he only had the opportunity to eat the victim if he had sex with them (for me he doesn't eat just kidneys but he can eat the whole person), or in scenario 2 if he met another demon.

- starting with scenario number 1, which doesn't make sense because Jack has much more strength than any human, so he doesn't need to have sex with the victim to devour them, he can easily overpower a person especially when he's hungry.

- but if it happens, he'll feel like shit and humiliated because he literally had to have sex with a human who is much weaker than him just to have dinner one night and betray his lover.

- so that leaves scenario 2, which is more likely to happen, and get ready because it's going to hurt a lot.

- in scenario 2 he will meet another demon (gender unspecified because my EJ is bisexual) and if this other demon is in heat, Jack will automatically go into heat too.

- he'll be very attracted to the other demon, to the point of forgetting that you exist, and if the other demon is up to the standards that EJ is most attracted to, that's it for him.

- like if the other demon have a small body and easy to dominate, Jack will fall to his knees for them. Bonus if they look good.

- When Jack comes to his senses, he'll try to stay as far away from the other demon as possible because he respects you and doesn't want to lose your trust, which has obviously been built up over time and it would be stupid to lose it so quickly.

- But if he doesn't hold back, he might not speak to you for a few days. Obviously you'll be worried, you'll text him but he doesn't answer, you'll call him but he doesn't answer, you'll ask the other creeps but they can't answer where he is.

- you might think something has happened to him, you'll get really worried and paranoid, imagining a thousand scenarios of how he might have been captured, if he's seriously injured somewhere and slowly dying or if he's already dead. And it will get to the point where you can't eat properly thinking about having lost your Jack.

- the other creeps will also be worried but maybe they'll just think he's just hunting or doesn't want contact now, maybe because he's depressed or something.

- when he comes back he won't want to look you in the face. He feels extremely guilty and dirty about what he's done, but he won't say anything so as not to lose your trust, he'll just make up an excuse for everything that's happened.

- Until the other demon started coming for EJ, he fell in love with them, and now he's all over them. Jack can't resist either and even though it feels wrong, he goes out every night while you sleep.

- EJ is becoming more and more attracted to the other demon than to you, his touch, smell and voice are very intoxicating, Jack is losing more and more of the attraction he had for you.

- the other demon is much more attractive than you in Jack's view, he starts spending more time with them, and all the relationship plans EJ had with you are forgotten.

- Over time you realize that Jack is becoming more and more distant from you, the moments of affection are becoming rare and the nights when you have sex are even rarer.

- you start to feel alone, you see other couples being happy together and having mutual affection but not you and Jack, you start to feel single within a relationship.

- you start to worry, maybe his mental health is fucked in some way, so you tell him if he needs to talk you'll be there to listen.

- you've had depression once, and you know how much it destroys you, so you don't want to see Jack destroyed too, you don't want to lose him.

- Until one night you wake up and look over, you see that Jack isn't around, and as you're thirsty and your bottle is empty, you decide to go to the kitchen to fill it up.

- as the mansion is huge, the trip to the kitchen has put you out of sleep and you notice that EJ is nowhere to be found, you look for him in the mansion and ask the nocturnal creeps but they haven't seen him.

- You return to your room but now come to new conclusions about your boyfriend's disappearance: what if he's hiding something or doing something he doesn't want you to know about? What if he's cheating on you? Now you're starting to get angry with him.

- You see him coming back through the window and you stand in the doorway staring at him, your eyes are piercing, you're clearly someone to be taken seriously, after all, you live in the Slendermansion for a reason.

- he also stares at you, but not as seriously as you, he's even a little intimidated by your gaze because he knows he's done something wrong.

- you ask for an explanation, he tries to think of another excuse but he feels it's not a good idea to do that, so he says everything. Looking down and half-shrinking like a dog with its tail between its legs.

- Now how you react is all up to you.

#creepypasta #eyeless jack #eyeless jack headcanon #creepypasta headcannon #creepypasta headcanon #ej x reader #eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack hc #creepypasta hcs #hcs #angst #angst without a happy ending #cheating hcs #sad headcanon #angst headcanons #creepypasta angst #EJ hcs

[pinetreeartz]

Idk if this will be in the final thing I’m working on so here is this angst.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanart #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #lucifer angst #hazbin angst #angst kills my soul but I still love it anyways #yes I was sobbing while drawing this and no I will not accept being called sensititve #angst without a happy ending

[helplesslypurple77]

~my spirits sleeping somewhere cold~

Summary: The day after the incident you wake with an itch in your throat. And as you stare at the white ceilings of your familiar bedroom, you get a feeling of foreboding.

The dressing process is subdued, the soft feel of clothes on your skin not enough to dull the insistant pain, the large gaping hole in your chest that will never be filled. You choke up lily petals in the bathroom."

Warnings: Hanahaki, angst, major character death, religious symbolism, i'm not religious, flower language.

Notes: this is something, i guess. I've been in really bad shape emotionally lately, and money’s been really tight so all the stress is just welling up i guess. That's part of the reason I topped my other au week thin, I'm just not in the mood to craft plots and write smut. I don't know. 

Title from ‘Jar of Hearts’ by Christina Perry

...

The day after the incident you wake with an itch in your throat. And as you stare at the white ceilings of your familiar bedroom, you get a feeling of foreboding. 

There's a yawning ache in your chest, a cavity that will never be filled. You don't want to get up. You don't want to suffer. You wish god would take you instead of him. But God is not a merciful creature, that you have come to know all too well. 

The dressing process is subdued, the soft feel of clothes on your skin not enough to dull the insistant pain, the large gaping hole in your chest that will never be filled.

You choke up lily petals in the bathroom.

𓇢𓆸

Your cross sits heavily against your breast, under your shirt. You don't typically wear one, the responsibility of God's eyes is too much for you to bear. 

But today you wear it in repentance. 

There's a tickle in your lungs, underwhelming compared to the aching gap in your chest. He’s stolen your heart, taken it with him in death. You turn your eyes to the sky, so as not to ruin your makeup with tears. 

You hate yourself for your pathetic lovesick nature. Yellow petals are choking up your throat, daffodils and chrysanthemums. You spit them into the grass before you enter the detective agency.

You don't need to burden them with your plight. At least not yet. 

𓇢𓆸

You look up the meanings of the flowers when you're in the office, your fingers trembling as you read the words. 

Lilys, purity. Daffodils, rejection. Chrysanthemums, slighted love. You choke down the tickle in your throat, closing the tabs with shaky fingers. 

“The meaning of flowers?” It's Ranpo, pearing curiously over your shoulder. You force a smile, perfect in your broken heart. 

“My friend wants a bouquet.” You tell him, shooing him away too his work. 

And as he meanders off, you congratulate yourself. At least until the petals choke up your throat and you slope away discreetly to the bathroom.

You throw up petals into the toilet. 

𓇢𓆸

A week after the incident you choke up an entire flower. It hurts, the thorny stems of a small rose, its petals a dark unnatural black. You crumple the delicate petals in your hand, muffling your tears into a towel before quickly reapplying your makeup. Covering your dark circles. You haven't been sleeping. 

Death's heavy hand is hovering over your head, weighing you down with the weight of your sin. The sin of eternal love. The sin of pure devotion. 

He stands behind you, death. With his hand on your shoulder, taunting you. He laughs at your misery, at your pain. He plays his melodies of death, his requiem, his Lacrimosa, truly a lady of sorrow. You shed enough tears and pain to be allowed the title, although you have yet to birth the son of god. You don't think you will. You know your death is around the corner. It will come when the bells toll, when the stems growing in your lungs eat at your insides. The pain drives you mad. You choke up as many flowers as you can before you leave for work. 

𓇢𓆸

“Name?” Atsushi says, his hands clutching the papers in his hands. He's a kind boy, cute and sweet. You spare him a small smile, biting back the petals in your throat. The boy shuffles his feet nervously. 

“Are you doing ok?” Atsushi asks, the question almost too much for your delicate sensibilities. You almost cry, try8ing your best to give him a smile. 

“Im doing well.” You reply, the weight of the lie hanging heavy on your chest, the cold metal of the cross judging you.

The boy leaves, called away but he still eyes you, worried.

You wish you fell for Atsushi instead, for his kindness, for his selflessness. 

𓇢𓆸

They're getting suspicious. This you know. But you smile and keep your mouth shut and muffle your choking as much as you can. You don't need to burden them any more than you already have. You must die without a fuss. 

You had long ago learned how to fool Ranpo, how to get around his almost all knowing intellect. For the key was withholding the crucial fact. Because he could not come to a conclusion without it, and you were sick in your misery. You could never burden them. Never bear to see their eyes of disappointment, their eyes of confusion.

‘How could you love him?’ you were sure they would say. 

You couldn't explain, you didn't know yourself. 

And then you couldn't stop the flowers that ripped out of your throat, spilling onto the office floor. The white petals of the lilies were stained red with blood. 

You didn't see much as you fainted. 

𓇢𓆸

You wake in the infirmary, a worried circle of your coworkers surrounding you. The worry on their faces almost makes you sob. You bite back the lilies as Yosano waves them away.

They file out single files, varying looks of confusion on their faces. The door slams. 

“How long do you have left?” It's Yosano, arms crossed, eyes disapproving. 

“About two weeks.” your voice is rough, choked. A petal falls from your lips.

“Is there no solution?” Yosano asks you, her voice choked with emotion. The sigh that escapes your lips is more than a thousand words.

“The dead cannot return the love of the living.” 

Yosano wipes her tears before you see them. 

“Rest.” She says, closing the door behind her.

𓇢𓆸

The meeting is solem, confused eyes meeting red rimmed eyes. All the eyes turn to Yosano as she enters the room, her own eyes red. Fukuzawa is the first one who dares the speak, from his place at the head of the table. 

“What is going on.”

Yosano sinks into a chair, hand scrubbing at her eyes. The words she speaks are damning.

“Hanahaki.” 

The room sinks into a tense silence, a broken silence, a confused silence. The emotions are a whirl in the room, the atmosphere choking, cloying, unpleasant. Someone muffles a sob into their clothes, Kenji or Atsushi or Naomi, it doesn't matter. Yosano composes herself, dropping plain information on the people in the room. 

“She's choking on Lilies and Daffodils, and she won't last much longer.” She says, the words plain and almost cruel. Kenji curls up into himself, his head resting on his knees. Kunikida, sitting beside him, pats his back. 

“Who is it?” It's Atsushi, his voice choked up, his eyes shining with unshed tears. The room is suddenly silent, waiting with bated breaths for the escape, the hope that this could end. Yosano hates to break their fragile hope, but she repeated the words you had said to her. 

“The dead cannot return the love of the living.”

𓇢𓆸

The green bottle sitting in your hand is your escape. Arsenic is a simple plan, easy to execute, to end your suffering. The lilies are choking your throat. You want to escape.

There are letters on your bed, piled around you, addressed to the ones you love. You don't want to leave them, but you don't want to suffer, 

The bottle is your escape. 

With a pop of finality, with a last look at the world around you, you drink the poison. It's tasteless, coloreless, odorless. 

It lulls you into your final sleep. You can see him, your doomed love. Fyodor, standing on the other side. You slip into death with open arms, broken hearted but peaceful. 

𓇢𓆸

Something is wrong. Atsushi feels it, the weight on his chest, the knowledge that you, a trusted coworker and beloved friend are going to die. And theres nothing to be done about it. The meeting is silent, as the words sink in, and then, it is exposed.

People are talking, arguing, yelling over each other, words and questions and angry accusations. Atsushi covers his ear, tears welling in his eyes. 

And then, that feeling, that horrible dawning feeling that something is wrong. Almost silent, he stands, slipping out of the infirmary door, Ranpo and Yosano on his heels. He can see the dread painted on their faces, the same dread that wells in his stomach, which eats him out from the inside. The hallway is short, the infirmary door at the very end, but it feels like forever, like the hallway will never end and you’ll die out of reach. 

But finally, they reach the door. 

It's quiet in the infirmary, the bed that you lay in still, letters scattered neatly around your body. You're too still. Atsushi flies forward, the other on his heels. 

Your face is serene in death, the lilies and chrysanthemums scattered around you, a makeshift memorial. There's a bottle beside your hand, empty. The label is a death sentence. 

“Arsenic.” its Ranpo, choked up and angry, his fists by his sides. Atsushi chokes on a sob. 

The infirmary door opens with a crack, the others joining them. The entire room hangs in a state of disbelief, of despair. And then the accusations fly. 

It's loud. Atsushi covers his ears, eyes dripping small tears onto the floor of the infirmary. He feels weak when he cries, but he’s sure the orphanage director will spare him this much. 

𓇢𓆸

You left them letters. Personal letters addressed to each of them, and even some for the port mafia members. They read them in the meeting room, solemn and silent. 

But there's one letter that sticks out, an unaddressed, blank envelope. They know they shouldn't open it. But they do, and it confirmed their fears and biases. 

For there are only a few words on the paper, a few damning words. 

“From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—

For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—

            Nameless here for evermore.” 

𓇢𓆸

They bury you with Lilies, Carnations, and tears. The finality of death painted on your face.

...

Endnotes: I don't know, this exists now. The Raven is a favorite of mine, ever since i read it in middle school. Edgar Allan Poe(the real one) was one fucked up dude

also i know its a little cringy to bend on a poem but i honestly don't care

(also i wholeheartedly believe Fyodor is not dead, but im still crying over it. pathetic i know)

#bungou stray dogs #mariannacrxss #bsd x reader #fyodor x reader #hanahaki disease #angst #angst without a happy ending #major character death

[pininghermit]

Being Nanami's Younger Sibling

Genre: feels and angst

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Sibling Reader (platonic ofc)

Summary: Admiring your older brother's every move was your birth right.

⚠️Spoilers ahead!⚠️

AN: I haven't read the manga. I've watched season one and I do not have the heart to watch season two without multiple breakdowns. So, please ignore plot holes, I am doing this because I googled the plot for fun (┬┬﹏┬┬). I want to do this series for some more jjk characters lmk if you guys are interested. P.S. I cried writing this.

Born out of a cryptic pregnancy, you were an unexpected addition to the family. Your brother, Kento, was just eight years old when you came into the world, and your life from day one revolved around him. Those tiny hands of yours reached out with joyful gurgles the moment your mom handed you to Kento.

He was always the cool sibling even when he kicked you out of his room or didn't take you on his friend's birthday party.

Like a devoted shadow, you were a clingy sibling with a tendency to follow your brother despite the stern looks or eye rolls thrown your way.

Maybe that was the reason that in order to stick by your quiet brother, you learned to fill the silence with your rambles. Even adapted to the shamelessness of ignoring your brother's apparent annoyance with you.

Your phase of copying him did not come as a surprise. Subtle side eyes, peaking over his side, waiting for him to pick something, all to know your brother's choices and making them yours.

Much to your rare embarrassment, you did end up copying your brother's high school hairstyle which remains a tragedy for both of you.

However, it wasn't your insistent following that endeared you to your brother or so you thought. Rather it was your failing grade in mathematics and a traumatic homework session with dad that led you to your brother.

Just when your eyes were full of tears as your tried to please your dad, scared of angering him further, your brother Kento looked up from his book. Sat next to you and taught you gently. Since that day, your brother became your tutor. A respite from your dad's hell tutoring.

That evening you promised to love your brother the most. Give him everything he wanted. Make him proud. You didn't say it out loud, those thoughts were too sweet to be said even by a loose tongued you. Laying in your bed, you looked up to your brother, quite literally, his bunk bed was above yours.

Sneaking you video games he had no interest in, asking for presents that you had been drooling over and he just ended up not needing, asking for your favorite foods on his special days your brother showed love in the most subtle but beautiful ways.

And when he became a sorcerer, your brother became your hero quite literally. For the first time in your life, you found yourself researching something with such passion.

He liked it. Your brother was noble. His heart found joy in saving people. He himself did not realize it for the longest time.

But then he left it all. You remember the ending years of your high school, when your brother took a normal job. Working fixed hours of the day. He needed it. Yet, it was not what he wanted. You could see it.

His eyes no longer gleamed at the end of the day. He was present. Yet, lost at the same time.

During the initial years of college, you lived with him. His apartment was conveniently close to your university. In those peaceful times, you spent evenings taste-testing his cooking, dragging him to college bars and then carrying him back because he drank more than the entire bar combined. Maybe an ordinary life suited Nanami yet, it was missing something as if an amazing cookie without a pinch of salt to bring out it's sweetness.

But it returned. The spark in his eyes came from the bloodied arm on Tuesday evening. Just like that, your brother went back to being a sorcerer.

So, despite the lingering bruises or rare injuries you supported him. What else could you do? You only followed him whatever path he went. Even the days when his blood scared you, you merely helped him with first aid or drove him to the nearest hospital.

You did not burden him with your fears, or your anxiety. His job was to protect the people, and your job was to worry for him.

But your tears did come. On instances when, you sat alone in a silent hospital corridor, you allowed yourself to be scared for your brother. You cried your heart out before wiping your tears and helping your brother with a simple soup that you cooked.

Maybe that day your brother sensed your sorrow. Perhaps that was the reason why he hugged you so tightly. Or simply ignored your soft sobs while hugging you.

But now, everything in the world feels different, foreign. It's as though the tether that once held you to this world has been severed. He never returned, and you were never given an answer. So you waited, evening after evening at six, but he never came back.

Your parents held a funeral, but you couldn't bring yourself to believe it. How could he be gone? He'd been by your side since your first breath. How could your world possibly exist without him?

Huddled in your childhood bunk bed, you'd look up at his empty bed. "Come back, please," you'd whisper, closing your eyes, hoping that when you opened them, it would all be a bad dream. You waited for him to come and take away the nightmare, just like he did on the nights when you couldn't sleep after watching a horror movie.

It became increasingly difficult to find joy in the world he had saved, as it felt so wrong without him. Did he know how much you treasured him? Did you hug him before he left that day? Was he wronged, was he in pain? You could never know.

You could have stopped him. He left in front of your eyes and you let him. Now you couldn't find him. No matter how hard you tried.

"Don't go where I cannot follow," your whispers were loud echoes in the quiet apartment.

#nanami kento #nanami x reader #angst without a happy ending #platonic #siblings au #jjk #it's not much but it's honest work #hermit is bawling

[silkythewriter]

✬ఌA loving feelingఌ✬

Warnings: Angst, Heart break, no happy ending

Fandom: Lmk

Author note: HI HI!! So I’ve gotten a few requests didn’t actually expect so many of you to still be here! Keep them coming I’m so sorry for how late this came out!, this was requested by messages!\(^ヮ^)/

Summary: you and macaque have a special love, one that is not shown nor celebrated. Merely there to serve both of your and his lonesome nights when no one else is there to keep you warm from the coldness of the world. You aren’t partners, just objects to be called when needed by either person. You can stare as longingly as you want towards him but deep down you know he’ll never be yours for long

❤️Written by silkythewriter Do not steal or repost on any other platform please! <3. ❤️

❥🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮❥

“What do you do with a loving feeling If the loving feeling makes you all alone?“

❥🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮❥

The soft hum of the AC echos through the small and quiet apartment of yours, as cold air fills the bedroom you rest in. You clutch the sheets harder in your grasp as you hide and huddle under them almost as if a barrier, but even with mountains upon mountains of soft fabric on you. Nothing seemed to fill nor protect you from the growing coldness climbing your body as if a parasite, leaving trails of goosebumps on your shaking body.

Your mind wondered to the only thing that seemed warm enough, warmer then any expensive or lavish blanket or sheet made for gods.

Him.

You knew he was most likely off somewhere in the shadows alone. You knew him well enough to know alone is how he liked it most of the time. But only Most of the time cause no matter how much he tried to hide under all the shadows or darkness of the night. The same coldness crept to him, you knew that but it’s an unspoken thing, a topic to turn your eye to because you knew you didn’t like the answers and more questions it came along with it.

You shut your eyes softly taking in the humming of the AC as you wondered you thoughts. Weather or not it worth picking up your phone and calling that secret number he gave you, making you swear to always delete it from your phone once done which you obeyed every time.

With a soft huff of finally a conclusion you picked up your phone from the night stand, pressing In each number with ease, never forgetting any number. The small ring form the phone filled your ears as you waited with desperate eyes peering at your phone before looking off to the wall. Somehow no matter how many times you’ve called before each time never gets easier. Nerves would kick in though you knew the answer he would give. You knew how the call would play out, how’d it start, and how’d it end. Almost as if a loop-

“Hello?”

You were quickly snapped out of thought as you looked to the phone.

“Hey”

You said with a bit of a crack before quick clearing your throat

“Weathers cold, was wondering if you were free?”

You continued as you relaxed back into bed waiting for his answer. All you heard was ruffling from his side before he sighed

“I’ll be there in a few.”

His cold tone made you only look down towards the aged floor as you ashamedly drew you lips to a line. You were inconvenience to him at worst, and a stand in, or poor recreation of love both you and him lacked at best. You knew that still the tense of you heart didn’t hurt any less.

“Okay..”

You said in a soft whisper before he hanged up the call. Leaving you still staring at your phone with sadden eyes. You only stared for a moment longer before putting it aside and hiding under the useless blankets. As you huddled your limbs closely to your chest before closing your eyes, just wanting to sleep to pass the painfully slow tic of time.

And even through the prickling coldness your managed to drift off even if for just for what seemed for a second. Before awakened by the dip in your bed and the creeks and squeaks of protest the mattress made to the newly added weight. You remember that smell all to well, you knew who it was. But no greetings nor hellos needed to be exchanged. Only the heat of your body’s before one had to go. You never exchanged goodbyes or farewells. Only the exchanged of what you needed.

The shifts of blankets were apparent as a figure slid behind you, softly snaking their arms around you as they shifted into a comfortable position. No words were said as the cold that was creeping up your body disappeared, mellowing out with the warmness radiating off of them.

So why did you still feel so cold?

Desperate for any comfort, any way to get rid of the ache in your stomach from the empty physical warmness given to you. You turned to him and asked him a simple question, but to you two and the nature of your relationship, it was as if asking the most complex question.

“How was your day?”

.

.

.

.

Silence. Only silence, no response was given, only a look of dullness in his eyes before humming and closing his eyes. And though you expected it, prepared yourself for the bland lifeless answer. It still hurt, it stung.

Your lips reminded sown together as your eyes reminded half hooded before you shifted around, now clinging onto his shirt with your head on his chest, desperately soaking up what you could before you enviable departure. He didn’t care much what you did, nor what you wanted to be fair. He was only giving his part of this deal, fulfilling the “debt” he owed from the other nights he had called you in. The silence in the room wasn’t awkward, nor comforting, just silence, it didn’t feel like another person was in the room it felt as if you were just hugging a heated pillow. Yet you still found yourself engulfed with a drowning filling of need and want for the six eared demon. You had no more space to think with the overwhelming feeling you felt, no time to think of why, no time to think how the only sliver of affection he gave you was transactional, no time to think how his mind only wondered off to its own imagination and past, having no space to give to you, not like it was willing to. He had not concerns for you, even if you were clinging onto him as if he was going to be whisked off, he just could care less. And no matter how much that fact was drilled into your head, no matter how degrading the feeling of unwanted-ness, only needed when called felt. You couldn’t stop, like a drug you couldn’t stop. He was all to intoxicating, like a over powered perfume no matter how much you tried he still filled your senses, your thoughts, and your actions.

Your mind drowned in thoughts, head pounding to ask the question you already knew the answer to. Even from the little time you both talked you still observed and knew so much about him, like the back of your hand, you already knew his thoughts, his answers, and every little detail, not needing him to tell you, because you already knew. But even with your teeth digging into the meat of your tongue, bitting back the question you knew would weight so much, yet be answered by him non the less. You knew his answer would affect you, mentally and physically and yet even with the great pressure of nerves and the tightness of your throat, you asked it.

“Do you love me?”

.

.

.

.

.

You looked up at him slowly, with only desperate eyes, searching for emotion, any, anger,disgust, regret, anything. Yet he still kept his eyes trained on your crack celling letting a silence fall between you two.

“Of course I don’t, but you already knew that.”

❥🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮❥

❥🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮❥

AHHH TYSM FOR THIS REQUEST, I’m so sorry for the wait since this was my first fic in a while I wanted it to be more decent then my last ones I hope you enjoy!

Not gonna lie writing angst for my first ask in a while was definitely a challenge but one I loved! Thank for being the first to request! \(^ヮ^)/❤︎︎

#Spotify #x reader #macaque x reader #lmk macaque #lego monkey kid macaque #lego monkey kid fandom #lmk x reader #all genders #main character #x y/n #lmk #i loved writing this #angst #angst without a happy ending #no happy ending #someone give me a lobotomy #six eared macaque #lego macaque #i luv them #tysm <3 #Ty for requesting!! ٩(ᐛ)و #ty anon (^‿^❤︎︎) #lego monkie kid #MACAQUE IS SO *FOAMS AT MOUTH* #haven’t written in awhile #lmk x y/n #lmk monkey king #rubs hands evilly #sorry for the angst #thank you for requesting!

[shares-a-vest]

@steddiemicrofic January Prompt: Hole

Word Count: 404 | Rated: T for ample use of the word 'bullshit' | cw: Angst Without a Happy Ending, Break-up, Hurt/No Comfort It has been a hot minute since I've done a microfic. And oops, I made it sad. I promise I'll write another silly one.

'Bullshit'

“This is bullshit,” Eddie spits, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“What is?” Steve demands, shrugging.

“This!” Eddie gestures to the four walls of checked wallpaper, “Everything! Hawkins! I…”

He stops himself and folds his arms.

“I… I just need to go…” he hums, looking at the floor – at anything but Steve.

“Leave!” Steve demands incredulously, “Here? And go without me?”

Eddie doesn’t answer. He turns to the window and looks down – likely to the pool Steve hopes will finally open and swallow the house… Eddie... Himself into a deep pit of nothingness.

His legs buckle and he sits at the foot of the bed, hanging his head in his hands.

Bullshit. It rings in his ears and rips through his chest. Tears prickle up in the corners of his eyes.

Bullshit. Bullshit. Bullshit.

The word rolls over in his head, all lit up like a fucking slot machine.

“I just have to go.”

A tear drops onto Steve’s cheek as he looks up to find Eddie standing right in front of him.

He can feel his face pinching up, tensed and pained as pure white-hot rage courses through his body, down to his toes and to his fingertips at the note of determination in Eddie’s voice.

“I know you won’t come with me,” he adds, his voice infuriatingly steady like he’s been planning this out.

“I hate you,” Steve blurts, balling up his fists as he seethes.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Again.

Not after everything.

Not after Vecna. After months of hospital stays and appointments.

Not after all the flirting and longing.

The kisses. The fun. The laughter.

Putting each other back together.

For good, Steve thought.

He pinches his nose, resisting the urge to fling himself down on the bed.

He’s not going to give Eddie that.

Not right now when he’s looking down at him with pity. That same look he’s received time and again. From Nancy... His own parents...

As if it’s completely ridiculous to hold out hope.

Hope for a quiet life together. A house. A Family.

A life Eddie doesn’t want with him. Perhaps he never wanted it...

“Get…” he starts through gritted teeth, looking Eddie directly in the eye, “Out.”

It’s bullshit how easily Eddie does as he’s told this time – for once.

He walks out, each step of his worn Reeboks shooting a cavernous hole straight through Steve’s stupid, pathetic goddamn heart.

#break up fic #angst without a happy ending #hurt/no comfort #steddie angst #steddie break up #break up #i hope i've covered tags that people would have blocked! #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddiemicrofic #lilys microfics #steddiemicroficjanuary

[spicywhenspeaking]

a little angst for us to enjoy 🤭🫣😭

Noah Sebastian x Reader -> breaking up is hard to do

bad omen taglist (open) : @cookiesupplier

“Don’t do this” he rasps out, taking a step closer to me but I back away further trying to create more space between us.

“I’m sorry Noah, it’s over.” I repeat again, my voice remaining strong despite the heartache I’m feeling.

“Please. Please Y/n I’m sorry. I can’t lose you, I love you” he pleads and my heart cleaves in two as he reaches out again and grips my wrist tightly in his hand.

I’ve been grappling with this feeling for so long and I know I have to do what’s best for me even if it hurts.

Sometimes love isn’t enough.

“You’ve already lost me Noah” I try to remove my hand from his grasp but his hold is too strong. I wiggle my wrist and there is no give, his grip is tight enough to leave a mark.

“Noah, I’m leaving. You have to let me go. Please I can’t do this anymore.” Frustrated tears well in my eyes while I continue tugging my hand free.

“I can’t let you go, please Y/n I love you. Don’t go” my defense falters for a second and he moves in closer, angling his forehead to rest against mine.

“I’ll get better, it’ll all get better I promise” he’s fighting tears of his own but I shake my head. Clearing the conflicting thoughts that pool in my mind. It’s an unending cycle of promises. Nothing ever changes, nothing will ever change unless I leave.

“You have to let me go” and then I say the only thing that might work to give me the window to slip out of his grip.

“I don’t love you anymore, Noah. It’s over” a lie.

I do still love him but until we learn fight the demons that plagued our souls we will never be good for each other or anyone else in our lives.

Maybe we were never meant to last, maybe we were only meant to show each other how much more work our hearts need before they are ready for another person.

His eyes shoot open, a mix of shock and hurt written across his face “wha-what? You don’t mean that. Y/n you love me.” His grip loosens up enough for me to remove myself from his space and I back away closer towards the door. His eyes shimmer with tears “you- you don’t love me anymore?”

His voice shakes with the question and then he straightens quickly, “You’re lying, I know you’re lying. Why are you lying?!” The volume of his voice increases and I flinch at the sound of it.

“I’m not lying, Noah, I don’t love you anymore. We aren’t good for each other and I’m leaving. Please, just let me go” I grab my bag off the floor and turn to open the door.

“If you walk away for us, from me, we’re done Y/n. For good.” His voice breaks.

“I know” the tears fall down my cheeks like a damn finally breaking.

“I never want to see you again” he growls out in a dark voice laced with venom. “I should have known something as broken as you wouldn’t be capable of love. Just a sad, broken, pathetic nobody. Get out of my house.”

Almost immediately I’ve ripped the door open and slammed it behind me and I jump when I hear his fist slam into it on the other side.

Tears freely fall down my face as I walk blurry eyed towards my car.

Nothing but the sound of my broken sobs accompany me on my drive home.

My studio apartment has never felt smaller when I walks in. Laying on my bed my bleeding, fractured heart beats sluggishly as darkness finally consumes me.

When I wake up the next day in the early afternoon I have several missed texts from the other guys asking me what happened. I don’t respond. I turn over and cover my head unwilling to face the day yet.

Knowing I did what was best for both of us offers me little comfort.

Time might heal my wounds but there will always be a scar from my self inflicted heartbreak.

#noah sebastian #bad omens #noahsebastian #noah sebastian angst #bad omens angst #angst #angst without a happy ending #but maybe later? #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens cult #badomenscult #rpf #bad omens rpf #noah sebastian rpf

[demonicbaby666]

Hiya may I request

Reader is the one to find JJ bleeding out instead of Spencer. (In season 14. Pretty sure it was.) And waits by JJs bed for her to wake up.

Bedside Confessions

one shot | Criminal Minds Masterlist | Masterlists

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: JJ x fem!Reader

Genre: Angst

Words: 1.6+

Warnings: Blood, resuscitation, Will LaMontagne

A/n: Thanks for the request and I'm so sorry it took me so long, I was just dreading watching these scenes cause poor JJ. But tadahhh here it is in all its sad glory 💔

After hearing shots fired you sprinted into the parking lot to the sight that forever altered your life. It had taken mere moments to register what you were seeing, and it wasn’t until you were next to JJ did the reality of what was happening dawn on you, the severity of it. There she lay in a pool of crimson, choking up blood as she struggled to breathe, her life force slowly leaving her body. 

“JJ! Stay with me, come on.” You pleaded trying to simultaneously put pressure on her wound and call an ambulance. “JJ look at me, keep your eyes on me. I've got you okay?”

Another set of coughs echoed through the empty car park. Her gaze focussed on you, the spark was slowly draining from her ocean eyes, and her eyelids were beginning to close whilst you screamed the address down the phone and explained what was happening. 

“Don’t you dare give up on me Jennifer! Help is coming, I need you to stay with me.” 

Tears stung your eyes watching the woman you loved fade away right before your very eyes. Her breathing slowed until it almost came to a halt. Sirens blazed in the background, but your main focus was on JJ and the limp hand you were holding, squeezing lightly in hopes it would keep her conscious. 

Tears were free flowing and streaming down your face, the image before you engraving itself deep into your psyche. Hands came to move you out of the way, your brain was fighting and refusing to let go of the blonde’s hand, but logic finally won over knowing you had to let the medics get to work if she was to have a fighting chance. 

Everything happened so quickly after that, you rode in the back of the ambulance with them as they worked to stop the bleeding, meanwhile you never stopped letting JJ hear your voice, hoping it would keep her anchored and soothe her. 

By the time you’d reached the hospital everyone sprang into action whilst you tried to keep up, they wheeled JJ in and were all running around spouting information from one person to the other. “Gunshot wound to the upper torso, bullet entered under left arm no exit wound, pulse is steady, breathing is shallow.”

They brought the bed to a halt and hooked her up to machine after machine. “Stats are dropping,” Then the monitor stopped. “she’s crashing.”

Eyes widened and the world stopped, you looked at JJ’s lifeless body whilst yours mimicked hers, freezing up, paling, heart stopping in your chest. Doctors clambered around her, and paddles were charged, electrical currents worked to shock her heart back into a steady rhythm. 

“Clear.”

Everything was moving so fast there was barely time to be relieved before JJ was wheeled away to an operating room and a doctor was in your face asking question after question. 

“What?” You asked, eyes trying to follow JJ. 

“I said are you her partner? I saw a ring.” 

“No, he’s not here.” 

“Well, you’d better tell him to get here.” She said walking away, not quite realising the weight of her statement and the paralysing fright she’d inflicted on you. Fighting against every bone in your body you pulled out your phone and called Will. 

Your knee bounced up and down, you’d given up on trying to calm yourself after the first hour of waiting. When Will had come it was near impossible to reel in your feelings, so you had just conceded and let your mind spiral and body act out. 

“Agent Jareau’s out of surgery.” The exhausted doctor stood above you, half scaring you and half snapping back into reality. Her eyes searched around the room, “Is her husband here?”

“Yes, he stepped out to call their kids. How is she?” 

“She’s lost a lot of blood but she’s stable.”

“Will she be okay? Can I go see her?” You asked scrambling to your feet.

“Physically she’ll recover but until she regains consciousness, we won’t be able to tell whether she’s sustained any neurological damage. And yes.”

“Will she be able to hear me if I talk to her?”

“It’s unlikely Agent y/l/n.” sorrow laced every word, and it was as though the doctor had read you like an open book, saw the pain in your eyes, the gush of anguish held within your broken heart. “I’ll take you to her room and talk to her husband to give you some time.” She said with a small sorrowful smile. 

Being stood over her motionless body tugged at your heartstrings, the monitor beeped, mocking you, JJ may have been alive, but she wasn’t there with you. The only consciousness in that room was yours and it was both suffocating and empty. None of the warmth she naturally radiated was there, her face neutral, still so beautiful, but dull and stoic. Seeing her like this was enough to break you, your shoulders slumped and shook as you finally allowed yourself to emote for the first time in hours.

“I’m so sorry JJ, it should have been me. I can’t stop seeing you laying there, it me broke. I know things have been different between us ever since that night, but I need you to know-” you wanted to finish, you wanted to tell her everything, how that one single night months prior had made you feel the most alive you’d felt in years. You wanted her to know that all you could think about for the last few months was how soft her lips had been on yours, how perfect her naked clad body melded together with yours, how her ethereal moans echoed in your mind every time your head touched your pillow at night, how badly you wanted it all again. You wanted her to know you’d heard the three she muttered when she thought you were asleep.

“I need you to know that you have changed my life in so many ways. I know I pushed you away, I couldn’t handle knowing you loved me, so I ran. But I can’t lose you and I know I already have; I know I can never have you, but I can’t lose you JJ. I would rather feel all this pain of seeing you happy with Will and settle for just getting to see you smile again than have you gone. Please don’t leave me here without you.” 

Your face was now tearstained and puffy, and your mouth was moving faster than your brain could keep up with, words were free flowing like never before and there was no time in between to think. Even though she couldn’t hear you, she needed to know. You had to get it out, “I love you; I think I’ve always loved you JJ.” You finally breathed out as you sank next to her on the bed, head falling into your hands as quiet sobs left your lips.

“Y/n.”

Her eyes fluttered open and held within them you saw the pain and sorrow. She’d heard. She’d heard it all. Her hand reached for yours and squeezed, she frantically began searching your eyes then looking over your face, finally her gaze settled on your lips. JJ tried to sit up, but you gently placed a hand over her chest, stopping her from making any unnecessary movements. 

You kept your hand placed where it was when she settled back down, feeling her chest rise and fall, you could feel her heart pounding against her chest.  It was strong against the palm of your hand, it was beating, that’s all that mattered. Memories replayed in your mind of bare flesh against your hand, feeling her fierce heartbeat in the clutches of passion, the images of that night played over and over as you stared down into artic blue eyes. 

Her eyes found yours again, studying the emotions held within them, yours did the same before trailing a path to her lips. You brought a hand to her face and felt the soft warm skin, almost immediately JJ’s eyes flickered shut and a timid smile graced her lips. The room was suddenly transformed, minutes before it was cold and eerie and now it was only JJ’s homely presence that filled it, trapping you with in this very moment and encapsulating you in a blanket of mellow, balmy, temperate adoration. 

Finally gathering the courage, you leant down, bringing your lips to JJ’s. They were just as you remembered, soft and welcoming. Your lips moved slowly against each other for mere seconds before hurried footsteps came from outside and you pulled yourself away. Will emerged from outside the door, practically running to JJ’s side. You quickly made yourself scarce, backing off the bed and trying not to watch as the couple embraced each other. 

“I’m going to give you guys some space.” You whispered, turning towards the door. 

What did you think would happen? That this would be your happy ending. You had said it, admitted the truth, you would never have her. She was with Will. Knowing the truth and accepting it were two different things, you knew that one night you had with JJ and the fleeting kiss you had just shared were all you would have but that didn’t stop you from wanting more. 

As your feet carried you to the door you tried to focus on the one thing that mattered, she was alive. 

With your back turned away you failed to notice that blue eyes never tore themselves from you, watching as you exited the room that was now filled with confessions of what you believed to be unrequited love.

“I love you.” JJ breathed out, and though her arms were around Will, her tear filled eyes remained on you.

Click here to be added to my tag list

#criminal minds #jennifer jareau #jennifer jareau x reader #jj x reader #aj cook #character x reader #angst #jennifer jareau x you #jennifer jj jareau #jj #cm #jj jareau #jj criminal minds #Jennifer jareau angst #Jennifer jareau x you #angst without a happy ending #Jennifer jareau imagines #fanfiction #cm fanfic #jennifer jareau fanfiction #hurt no comfort

[dreaming-of-the-end]

futures and dreams (and other non-fading scars): Bianuca

A/N: Hi @uni-seahorse-572, I'm your secret santa! Thanks @song-tam for hosting!

Summary: Biana looks at her again, and her eyes are tinted red from exhaustion and pain but still they carry with them the Vacker power. The one she's craved and hated for far too many years.

TW: mentions of blood/violence/wounds

Tags: @steppingonshatteredglass @sunset-telepath @stardustanddaffodils @turquoise-skyyyy @skylilac @wu-marcy @saintashes @rune-and-rising @lavender-and-rainy-days @confusedamphibian @hellomyfriends @callas-starkflower-stew @a-harmless-poison @professionalwhalewatcher @theogony @gay-otlc @confuzzled-fox @almostfullnerd @athenswrites @synonymroll648 @squishmallow36 @xanadaus @honey-the-dinosaur-ate-our-kid

Biana's lips part as she sleeps, in soft contrast to the rest of her twisted face. Maruca wants to trace a finger down her skin, soothe the wrinkle between her brows, let her eyes rest easy instead of pressed tight.

At least she's finally asleep.

The bandages wrapped across most bare skin make the idea of rest impossible: three hours ago, she was pinned down to keep from writhing, with teeth clenched so hard they ground audibly as Elwin and Livvy plucked shards of glass from her skin, then poured a disinfectant elixir over the jagged wounds. The numbing elixir barely eased the pain for her. Elwin said some of the glass had gone too deep.

Maruca wants to hold her hand, but even if she could do that without causing her pain, she isn't sure what it would mean. Years before, there wouldn't have been any sort of hesitation, only relief, comfort, familiarity.

The thing is, she knows the feeling of her hand so well that seeing those fingers twitch in her sleep is a phantom pain, an absence so familiar that feeling it is easier than it would be to feel the real thing.

Biana's mouth purses and her face screws up on itself for a moment before fading back into worried sleep.

(god, that mouth.)

Livvy had taken her aside, an hour ago, when the bandages had just been wrapped and the color had still been gone from her skin. "Elwin will tell them that the scars might fade. He will give her a possibility, maybe a hope."

"And you?" Maruca asked.

Livvy looked at her. "Maybe in a hundred years, there will be nothing remaining from this day on her skin. But the scars will still be there."

Maruca scrubs at her face with her hands.

She can hear Fitz in the next room talking to his parents, swoops of anger filling the area before he remembers to keep his voice down. Della's sobs punctuate the conversation. Alden's voice is lower than usual, pieces of his crisp accent lost in raspy worry.

Sometimes, it's like it only took a day for their family to fall apart. But then Maruca remembers it really took two, even though she wasn't around for either of them.

One: Alden's mind break. Two: Alvar's betrayal.

She wonders if this day will be the third. She knows it would have been if Fitz and Dex had taken any longer, or if Livvy hadn't been in Atlantis, or if they hadn't found her in time.

Still, all she knows is that there was the last day she was there: when Della was smiling, when Alvar was making his stupid jokes, when Alden could tease his children without worrying about the consequences, when Fitz still had that laugh that didn't turn dark halfway through. When Biana's breaths were even and balanced and calm.

And then there was every day after. When she'd see them in public, or in meetings, or in school, and suddenly the memory of the planting scattered its leaves through every long-lasting look, or there was a missing piece from their unified front.

If they hadn't found her in time.

The thought is more than a prickle or a pang. It's an explosion, a road to a future without her. A future she never imagined, never wanted to imagine.

All the future she'd imagined consisted of kisses in the dark and smiles across a bright room and fingers tracing arms and thumbs scraping across cheekbones and dark hair twisted carelessly around a knuckle and limbs slung over stomachs—

Goodbye does not have to go both ways.

It doesn't even have to go one way. Biana never said goodbye, but neither did she. They never made a promise not to grow apart, but Maruca doesn't think it would have mattered.

In the end, it wasn't a clean break.

It was a drawn-out pull, like a strand of yarn from a threadbare sweater. It unraveled so quickly and so suddenly that all of a sudden Maruca was left with threads the size of hairs and no way to weave them back together. It took several months of wondering when it would happen and then all of a sudden she was gone.

Gone.

"I'm scared of losing you," Biana had told her once upon a time. Back before the first time falling apart. Not the Vackers, but them.

Well, great job, Bee. 'Cause now she's fucking terrified.

Biana stirs. 

Fitz is there immediately, thanks to his sixth sense that tells him whenever a sibling is either dying or betraying him. He leans over the bed, hand hovering an inch above her cheek, her hair, the closest he can be.

Maruca was scared for him, of him when she'd arrived. Eyes bloodshot, voice breaking every other word. He'd let go of her hand and then his nails had almost gone through his skin from clenching his fist too hard. He'd tried to smile at her and she caught a glimpse of a wild animal prowling, barely hidden anymore.

Dex had rested a hand on his shoulder, and it calmed and provoked him, sending him pacing and tearing his hands through his hair and eventually, sitting by her bed with his mouth moving, whispering to her what she'd never be able to hear. Dex sat beside him for hours, even if he's gone now, mixing elixirs for the scars that will never truly fade.

Maruca sits on her other side, staring at the bandages and thinking that maybe she should go into healing if only so she'd have some idea of how to be useful.

"Biana," Fitz whispers. Her eyes crack open.

Maruca almost retreats, but she's never hidden before and she refuses to now. She crosses her arms over her knees and twists her fingers together.

"Did we win?" Biana asks, her voice gravelly from sleep and screaming.

Fitz hesitates.

"They saved the city," Maruca says. Biana's eyes widen, flicker over. Then they drink her in like there's no one else she'd rather see and there it is. The reason she fell for her in the first place. That power, that makes her feel like no one else in the world matters, like no one else could make her complete. Maruca clears her throat and refuses to look away. "Linh did. And Sophie, Keefe. They saved Atlantis. Gisela tried to flood it, but they blocked up the barrier, held back the ocean."

Biana tries to sit up, mouth pressing into a fine line as she feels all the bandages over her neck, cheek, arm, and side. Fitz helps her, eyebrows pressed into a worried line. Still, relief eases the tension in his neck, the stiffness in his shoulders.

"So, did we win?" Biana repeats.

"Some will say yes. The Council will say yes." Maruca shrugs. She sees the gray in Biana's skin and can't imagine how it can fit together with victory. "I don't know."

"Sophie's parents," Fitz says. "They're safe. Everyone is safe."

Something eases in Biana's face. "Some losses. Important wins."

"You could say that," Maruca says. Biana looks at her again, and her eyes are tinted red from exhaustion and pain but still they carry with them the Vacker power. The one she's craved and hated for far too many years.

She's absorbed, as everyone ends up some way or another where Biana Vacker is concerned. It's not that she thinks of nothing else, but it is that along with all those other things she's still there, lingering just behind as an echo. Maruca considers a question on her Universe worksheet and finds the stars reflected in teal eyes.

This is the Vacker effect. The pull, the gravity of it enough to harness the moon into orbit. The power leaks from them like tea drips from a teabag once it's turned the boiling water dark. You can sense it when they walk into a room. Any of them, but especially her.

At least, this is what Maruca assumes everyone else sees.

For a moment, the feeling disappears and a weight takes its place in a band around Maruca's throat. The feeling is missing her, and it's not that it abates but that it's overwhelmed by hating her.

In the end, she's the first to look away.

#summer's writing #kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #biana vacker #maruca chebota #bianuca #maruciana #kotlc writing #kotlc fic #angst #angst without a happy ending

[tissbutthfourth]

I’ve decided to make this be its own post

Inspired by this

Tw: Angsty themes and bad thoughts

‘Worthless’

Fizz clenched his hand,” Ima go grab something brb.”

“Ok babe,”Ozzie smiled.

Fizz strolled through the silent halls. Opened the door to his room and began his search.

“Where the fuck is it?”

‘Same void as your worth’

“Shut up… shit.”

He didn’t mean to say that out loud.

‘Over dramatic much’

He took a deep breath before resuming his search. He hoped over to the multi mirrored vanity,and opened a drawer.

He picked up a small pouch and set it on the table before opening it. He pulled out a makeup brush chapstick and a screw driver,”Damn.”

He began to put the objects back in when he noticed a small pocket on the inside. He pulled a small disk out of it. He flicked it open and found broken white powder on one side and on the other his face, and Mammon behind him.

He froze for a second. He blinked and squinted. It was just a potted plant.

He placed the different things back in the pouch and put it back in the drawer. He opened the next one to find it was empty.

“Well fuck me then.”

‘Like how the fire did?’

“Fuck off.”

‘Oh so you don’t have some big smart comeback this time or are you an inconstant whore?’

He moved the last drawer, He opened it and found a mess of objects,”Fun.”

He pulled out a few of the objects searching,”where the hell?”

‘Nothing without the talent you threw away’

Fizz’s eyes grew shot and he threw the perfume in his hand. It hit the mirror in front of him. Smell shattered against sight.

“Fuck.”

He stared at the mess for a second. The pink shards that mixed with the mirror’s. A puddle of purple liquid smelled like Ozzie.

He broke ozzie’s favorite perfume.

‘What are you gonna tell him now? It’s not like you even deserve him. He’s a deadly sin. You’re just an imp’

“WOULD YOU JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

His head went silent.

“Fuck,”Fizz whipped away a tear.

“Froggie is everything ok?” Asmodais burst into the room,”… Oh.” His eyes glanced over the scene. Fizz’s tears. The shoved away seat. And the shattered glass all said the same thing.

Ozzie took a step forward.

‘He’s gonna tell you to get your shit together’

“I’m sorry-“ The tears started coming faster,”I- Hic I didn’t mean- Hic I- I’m sorry… Hic”

“Oh babe… It ok it’s just a mirror and some perfume.”

‘Like how your just an Imp’

“But it- Hic was your favorite- hic And it was my favorite cuz it-hic was you.”

“Fizzy it’s ok, but… why did you?”

Fizz took deep breath and the tears started to slow,”I don’t know.”

“You can tell me anything.”

“I don’t- I…”

“What’s wrong?”

Fizz didn’t answer he didn’t have words. Ozzie waited patiently.

‘You gonna tell him you made yourself angry? You gonna say you got mad? That the voices made you do it? You’ll end up in a straight jacket faster than a flame’

“It’s nothing my arm just glitched and i lost control.”

“Oh… Do you want me to see if there’s a problem or-“

“It’s fine i’ll take care of it.”

“Ok… I’m gonna get a broom, You stay here ok?”

“Ok.”

Ozzie left the room and once he was down the hall Fizz glanced at a mirror.

His reflection seemed to taunt him.

‘Or maybe you do deserve him, after all he’s the embodiment of sin, of evil. Maybe he’s all you got because he’s as bad as you.’

#helluva boss #fizzarolli helluva boss #helluva fizzarolli #helluva boss fizz #fizz #fizzarolli #fizzmodeus #fizz x ozzie #helluva boss ozzie #tw angst #tw bad thoughts #fanfic #angst #angst without a happy ending #no happy ending