#ANGST!

[cuubism]

Physical therapy au part 7. (abuse cw)

--

Dream wakes to find his face still smushed against Hob’s chest, and freezes, expecting an instinctive rush of panic at being suddenly so close to another person.

But it doesn’t come. He still only feels… relaxed. Hob is warm against him, still asleep, his arm wrapped loosely around Dream’s shoulders. And it’s… good? It’s nice. To wake up and feel calm. To not feel as though he needs to remove himself from the situation as quickly as possible.

Hob stirs beside him, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Surprise flashes across his face as he turns to look at Dream, but it quickly softens. “Hey, you.”

“Hello.”

Hob pets Dream’s hair, pushing it behind his ear, even though his own, longer hair is far more disheveled. “Sleep alright?”

“Yes.” He didn’t even dream. It was welcome, he needed the peace.

Hob kisses him lightly on the lips. “Good. You want coffee? Tea? Breakfast?”

Dream considers him blearily, then shakes his head in amusement. “Do you usually bound up out of bed with such immediate enthusiasm and zest for life?”

Hob bites his lower lip in thought. “Um. Sometimes?”

“Then you will have to forgive the fact that it takes me significantly longer to become alive again in the morning.”

Though Dream also has not had much reason to want to get out of bed, not until lately.

Hob laughs. “Alright. You sort yourself out. I’ll get something started.”

He gives Dream another light kiss, and ruffles his hair, then rolls out of bed and heads off with a truly unreasonable amount of vim. Dream just smiles to himself as he lays back in bed.

It will be good to have a few minutes to think. Or perhaps he’ll just go back to sleep for a while. He doesn’t think Hob will be upset. And what a relieving feeling that is.

—

Once Hob’s put coffee on and gotten out ingredients for breakfast, he finds himself turning to Dream’s painting, propped on top of the bookshelf. It’s so beautiful. So charming. Of course Hob wants to hang it on his wall. It might embarrass Dream a little bit, but he will know how much Hob appreciates this painting.

He’s not great at waiting, and he has time to kill while Dream's getting ready—hopefully a lot of time, the poor thing looks like he needs more beauty sleep—so he grabs his toolkit and goes about finding a spot on the wall to hang the painting. He's found a decently-placed stud behind the drywall and is about to start hammering a few nails in--he's not using some flimsy method and risking the painting falling--when the bedroom door opens. Not long after, he hears Dream come out into the hall.

"Hob?" he calls. "Do you have any--"

He freezes in the entryway.

Hob turns to face him properly. "Hm? Any what?"

But Dream is standing stock still, every muscle in his body frozen, staring at him.

Hob looks between him and the painting, which is now leaning against the wall at his feet. Is he that bothered by Hob hanging the painting? He doesn't actually have to put it up, he just thought--

But. No. Dream is staring at him.

"Something the matter?" Hob asks, walking over to him. Maybe he's regretting staying over, maybe he wasn't ready--

Dream goes, impossibly, more tense, freezing like he might be able to go invisible if he just doesn't move. Like a prey animal.

Hob's properly starting to panic now, and still doesn't know what he's done, but he raises his hands in surrender.

Dream finally unlocks, but not to explain or come towards him. No, his gaze darts from Hob's face to his hands and then he bolts, scrambles backwards and disappears into Hob's bedroom, door slamming shut behind him.

Heart pattering, still having no idea he's done, Hob lets his hands fall--

--and realizes he's still holding that hammer.

He drops it with a start. That-- that must have done it, mustn't it? It’s the only thing he can think of.

But... why?

He goes over to the bedroom door and knocks softly. "...Dream?"

No response.

He knocks again, louder. "Dream?"

No reply, but he can hear Dream’s shaky breathing, like he’s sitting with his back against the door.

Hob sits down on the floor, leaning his head against the door. His heart squeezes with guilt for upsetting Dream, even if logically he knows that he didn't do anything wrong, just caught him at a bad angle that he didn't know was there.

At least he stayed by the door. He could have run into the bathroom or gone as far away from Hob as possible but he didn’t. That’s something.

“Dream,” he calls, knocks lightly on the door to show he’s still there. “Just breathe, sweetheart, it’s alright, yeah?”

This isn’t his area, he’s a physical therapist, not a mental health one. But he’s trying his best.

“Not going to hurt you,” he goes on. He knows Dream knows that, but he clearly doesn’t remember it now. “I promise. You’re safe. It’s alright.”

He still doesn’t get a response, so he stays where he is. Speaks softly to him through the door. Maybe it’ll help. He wishes he just knew the right thing to say, but it’s not that easy. Maybe one day he will just know.

For now, he just keeps talking.

--

Dream runs. He runs and runs, tripping over himself. He-- he can't feel his hand-- no, that isn't right, he can feel it, but it's tingly and wrong and his fingers are all twisted and won't listen to him and each movement is a scream of pain pain pain all the way up his arm, and--

Why would he do that? Why would he--?

He's out on the street. When did he get here? He doesn't remember leaving, only the rush of adrenaline and panic that had propelled him-- his heart is still pounding-- the certainty that no matter how much his lover had argued and justified look I'm sorry, that was too far, but you get it don't you? you get why I had to? that Dream was about to get his head bashed in next-- he had dropped the hammer but Dream could no longer see his hands without it--

Dream, don't be stupid-- no, you can't leave-- hands on him-- no, he's free now, he's walking, he has his phone in his pocket but he can't reach it because his only usable hand is clutching his art portfolio, he doesn't want to look at the mangled wreck of the other one.

He has his art. Most of it. Some of it. Whatever had been stored in easy reach. He had recent pieces still drying he'd had to leave behind. He'd only had a moment to grab things and run, the briefest of moments when his once-lover had hesitated with regret over what he'd done.

He doesn't know where he's meant to go now.

"Dream, honey..."

Death's voice. Had he gone to her flat? He doesn't remember. But no, this is the hospital waiting room--he doesn't remember how he got here. Perhaps his sister brought him. His hand is agony, but it's not even bleeding. Shouldn't it be bleeding?

Wait. Where is his art portfolio?

He spins around in his chair, but he doesn't see it-- he can't-- this is the only thing he has-- "Death, where--?"

"Shh, relax, we left your things at my flat, remember?"

He doesn't. He doesn't remember. He doesn’t remember getting here. He only remembers the pain. The fear. The threat, the—

“Dream, love, can you hear me?”

Death’s voice again? But no, she’s gone, and he’s sitting on the floor, his back to the door, and that’s Hob talking on the other side.

Hob.

He looks at his hand, flexes his fingers, curls it into a fist. He’s fine. He’s fine. It’s been months. His hand is healed now. Partly thanks to Hob.

“Dream?” Hob calls again.

Finally, Dream finds his voice. "Please don't come in."

He needs— he needs to compose himself, he doesn’t want to be seen like this—

“Not coming in,” Hob promises.

Dream pauses. Is that what he wants? Or is it what he used to want?

He swipes the tears away, moves away from the door, and reaches up to open it.

Hob is sitting on the floor, also right by the door. He looks at Dream with wide eyes, then moves forward tentatively. When Dream doesn’t move away, Hob pulls him into a hug.

Dream sobs, pressing his face into Hob’s shoulder. The tears he’d tried to quell come flooding back.

“Shhh,” Hob soothes, stroking his hair. “It’s okay, love. I have you.”

“I am being ridiculous,” Dream whispers.

“Nah. You’re alright. Don’t worry about it.” He kisses the side of Dream’s head. “Promise you. It’s okay.”

“You won’t hurt me,” Dream says, still quiet. He’s not certain if he’s convincing himself, or if he’s trying to convince Hob that he isn’t afraid of him.

“I won’t,” Hob agrees.

“I know that,” Dream says.

“I know. I know. You're okay.” He squeezes Dream tight, rocks him lightly. “Do you want to get up? I don't know about you, but my ass is suffering sitting on the floor. And you haven’t even gotten to have breakfast or anything.”

Dream manages a small laugh. “No. And I'm sure whatever you made is delicious."

"Didn't finish it yet. Can still be fresh. Come on."

He helps Dream up, and Dream clings to his side, feeling wobbly. He stays stuck against Hob as he cooks, feeling excessively clingy, but unable to help himself. He watches Hob's hands, now blessedly hammer-free. He wonders if Hob would have taken the hammer to his ex-boyfriend's head had he been there in that moment. He doesn't know if that's a healthy fantasy to indulge in. But it tastes delicious.

He's still thinking about it when Hob sits him down and makes him eat some eggs and toast. It's only once he's finished that Hob asks, "What happened?"

Dream still has not told Hob the entire story of what happened, so of course Hob does not know what he inadvertently set off. It feels shameful to say. He should not be afraid of Hob. Isn't. Nor should he let himself be caught by old memories.

Nevertheless, he clears his throat, and relays in halting detail the story of that day. It still frightens him to think about. His home then had never exactly been a comforting or peaceful space but he had never been hurt. And then a switch had flipped and everything changed.

When he's finished, Hob looks ill. Runs his hand stressfully through his hair, looking over at where the painting is propped against the wall. "I figured it must have been the hammer but I didn't know why," he says--mostly to himself, Dream thinks.

Then he takes Dream's hands on the table. "That's one of the worst things I've ever heard, I'm so sorry."

Dream looks down at their joined hands. "It's in the past." It's not, though. Not really.

"Even so." He kisses Dream's hands, clasps them tight. Then pulls him to his feet. "Come on. We'll watch some TV or something, decompress. Unless you wanted to talk about it more right now?"

Dream is too tired for any more talking at the moment. Telling that wretched tale has taken everything out of him. "Not particularly."

So Hob just leads him over to the couch. On the way, he stops and sets the painting back on top of the shelf. Dream wouldn't be surprised if Hob waited until he was gone before trying to hang it up again. The thought puts a lump in his throat.

He lies down on the couch and lays his head in Hob's lap, and doesn't pay any attention to the movie Hob puts on as background noise. He's exhausted, and thinks he might go back to sleep--but after several minutes of Hob petting his hair, he finds himself tearing up again instead.

He hasn't cried much, since. It always felt like that would mean accepting the full reality of the situation. Now, he can't help it, but it feels... not good, quite, but perhaps... relieving. Perhaps he's allowed to be upset about it. For so long he had felt like it was all his fault, like he should have known something something terrible would happen, should have picked up on it. But perhaps he's allowed to feel hurt regardless of whether he could have done something better.

Hob doesn't say anything, just lets him cry, stroking his hair. This isn't particularly how Dream wanted this date to go. He was hoping it would be nice and normal. But he'd rather be sad with Hob than be alone.

As long as Hob just lets him stay here, then perhaps it will be alright.

--

Hob doesn't pay much attention to the film, he's too focused on Dream. He keeps methodically stroking his hair, thinking. He feels sick over everything Dream's told him. He's wishing he hit Dream's ex with a bat instead of just punching him. It probably wouldn't have been the smartest move, but it's tempting anyway.

When the movie's almost finished, and Dream seems to have calmed down, he finally manages to ask the question that's been stuck in his head since Dream told the story of fleeing his home.

“Dream?” he says. “How much of your things were you actually able to take with you when you left your old flat?”

Dream turns to look up at him. He's still lying across Hob's lap. “Not very much. The clothes I was wearing. My phone and wallet—fortunately, for replacing all of that would have been nightmarish. And I grabbed my art portfolio as well.”

“Nothing else?”

Dream shakes his head. “I still have my keys, assuming he has not changed the locks, but I have not been back. Most of it is replaceable, anyway.”

Most of it, Hob thinks. Except things like gifts, and sentimental items, and documents. And his art.

“Is some of your art still there?”

Hesitantly, Dream nods. “Works in progress. Larger pieces that I could not carry. And sketchbooks, and the like.” He pauses, then says more firmly, as if convincing himself. “It is not worth going back.”

It might not be worth going back for Dream. But Hob’s not afraid of his piece of shit ex.

He’s getting the fucking art.

#angst! #physical therapy fic #dreamling #my writing #cw abuse

[jazzstarrlight]

MD:MI (Meanwhile on Copper-9 [MOC9]) - Khan's Regret

(Someone was asking about this.)

Sometime after Uzi left to follow Doll into Cabin Fever Labs & never returned, Khan went looking for her. Only to find his daughter's body covered in oil.

#murder drones #comic strip #khan doorman #uzi doorman #ANGST!

[astarlightsend]

Man its been a while hearing of a hanahaki au! Would Wally's condition worsen or would he just continuously cough up the flowers? and how would Howdy find out about this? (love your art btw! This ship is my favorite!)

Unfortunately it’s both, His condition will worsen and the frequency of the flowers would be too much and he would eventually suffocate.

Wally would be super weak, unable to stop the flow of flowers out of his mouth. Also he is still super sweaty! :D that’s bc the fever he has with the hanahaki also worsens!

Each time Wally opens his mouth, flowers would be immediately falling out of it! Like a waterfall of petals! He also needs to empty out his mouth bc he would choke on the petals!!

And the way Howdy finds out about Wally’s condition,

Well :]

He doesn’t find out until

it’s

a

tad

bit

late

Also thank you! :D🫶💚 I love these goobers too much, too dude haha :D

#welcome home #wally darling #howdy pillar #Apple Blossom Au #welcome home au #wally darling au #wallypillar #howdydarling #angst! #doodles #I LOVE HANAHAKI ANGST MWHAHAHAHAHAHA #I plan there to be 2 endings :] so it’s not gonna be all sad and clouds

[orangesand-lemons-234]

So remember my headcanon that Splint and Albert were siblings, but Splint was the only person who knew? Remember that? Yeah, okay, so I finally wrote something to go with it.

---

Dear Albert

I don't know if I'll actually give this to you. Maybe I'll get nervous at the rally, and this letter will remain in my pocket forever, but either way, I need to get this out of my system somehow.

I know for all these years, you've known me as the Brooklyn girl who's constantly breaking her arm and hurting herself, which is true. I am quite accident prone, but so are you! I've seen you get into reckless fights with the Delancey's on many occasions, and I must admit, I have cheered quite loudly when you defeated them. Nice to know we have the same slightly violent tendencies.

I'm getting sidetracked, so allow me to get back to the main reason for this letter. There's no easy way to say this, so here it is.

I am your big sister.

I don't even know if you remember me when I was at home. You were still quite young when I left and became a Newsie. You were tiny, but still as loud and fierce as ever, though. Your attitude seems to have stuck with you your whole life, and I'm glad. You certainly know how to stand up for yourself.

I'm sorry I left you in that house with mom and dad. I know how they could get after work and how they got when they were agitated.

I almost cried of relief when I saw you selling with Jack when you were six. While I wish you would've joined us in Brooklyn, I was glad to see that you'd gotten out, and I trust that Kelly boy to take care of you.

I'm so proud of you, I always have been.

When I saw you punch Oscar in the face, when I saw you selling for the first time, when I saw you chasing down the street after Racetrack and JoJo, knowing you'd found things you enjoy and people you really care for, I was so proud.

I hope you always remember that. Your big sister loves you so much and is so proud of you.

Soak 'em Red.

~ Your sister, Splint Constance

Albert sobbed as he read the final line of the letter, tears now spilling down his face like a river.

"It was in her pocket when we found her. I thibk she was going to give it to you at the rally, but..." Spot explained, tears pricking her own eyes as she did. "I'm so sorry, kid."

"She's gone, Spot." Albert whispered, most hope gone from his voice. "She's gone before I even got to know her."

Spot stayed silent for a few moments, wiping her eyes quickly. "...She loved you, Al. Even if it was from afar. You were her little brother, and you mattered so much to her."

"I know, Spot." Albert said quietly, rereading the last few lines of the letter again. "I know."

---

#ANGST! #HELL YEAH! #anyways #splints real name in my mind is constance #i think it fits #but anyways! #i kept thinking about this headcanon and eventually this was the outcome #enjoy! #newsies #uksies #newsies headcanons #splint newsies #albert dasilva #spot conlon #newsies fanfic #brooklyn newsies

[witch-oftheflowers]

Does it hurt?

Ximena Riley x 141 Task Force

AN: OH get ready. Here comes some angst. This will get dark and emotional. So get ready ~

Masterlist This leads to events

Dim lights filled the space. A small confined room. A single chair in the middle. And a single person. A woman.

Her curls swept forward as she leaned in. Her hands bind behind her, and she softly was breathing. Trying to keep herself awake. Her deep brown eyes scanning around as she gave a small tug on the rope. She almost got it off.

But the door spilled open, letting the hallway lights flutter in. Her eyes linger to the door and the large pair of boots coming in. Gentle even, which the past few weeks it hasn't been like that.

"Ximena... Come on Lass just give us what we want." The voice was stern but trying to be gentle. A soft scoff left her lips as she shut her eyes.

"I told you what I know John... And I'll keep repeating what I know is true. I didn't betray you lots." Ximena stated as she scoot back in her seat. Her curls cascading down her shoulders and down the back of the chair. Her feet were tied apart. Knowing she can get out most holdings.

Price had a force thin smile. Rubbing a hand through his beard as he walked around her

"Anything. Give me anything Ximena. We have a faithful resource that said otherwise" he stopped behind her for a second. Softly yanking her curls back.

Snapping her head back as she winced in the pain. Her eyes snapped to him as she growled

"let go-"

"You need to give us something. We don't wanna hurt you anymore Ximena!" He shoved her head away as she groaned a bit.

"Then hurt me! I don't care!" Her voice was a bit hoarse. She felt the pain internally but as a trained soldier she never needed to show it.

She couldn't, it was a liability. It could risk her life, even now with those she loves. Her eyes stuck to the floor as she frown. A deep sadness in her eyes as she shut them.

Don't give in. Don't give in. Don't do it-

The door opened again and shut. Price went quiet as he stared at the larger man. A man he was hoping to not see.

"Ghost-"

"Let me at 'er Capt. I need a go...." His gravely voice was a bit softer. But the edge was clear. Even Ximena felt it as she sat back in her seat. Her posture corrected as she glanced to the man she loves.

Worse part was during all of this. She wasn't mad. She was just saddened by the leading events that lead to this.

Some damn bastard...

Her thoughts trailed as she didn't noticed Price left them be. Her eyes softly shook as she gazed down to the floor. No. No. Don't leave me with him...

His steps were calm. Walking towards her as he yanked her head up. Her eyes tried to stay stuck below her, but his warm hands forced to her look up. Softly he squished her cheeks as he forced her lips to pout.

"Speak up. That's all you havta do..."

"Never. Because there's nothing to say!" She spat at him as she yanked her face away. Glancing to the side as she noticed the torture tools in the room. All littered with her blood by now.

Her breathing became a bit shallow as she sighs. Trying to keep her emotions in line-

Ghost yanked a fist full of her curls as he knealt to her height. His brown eyes bore into hers. The mass wave of sadness and frustration painted his eyes.

"I need ya to say something. Anything. I do not wanna hurt you Ximena-"

"If you don't get the right thing you want. It'll lead to getting hurt more... So no." She told him with determination in her face.

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

After viscous hours of pain and torment. Ximena's face was bruised and beat up. Blood was dripping down her face. Feeling her cheeks swell and her eye sight blur.

Cuts litter her exposed body. Her blood was splatter on the floor.

Ghost himself was litter with it even.

The door burst open. And a rookie coming in huffing, spoke up. Ghost was close to ringing him out till the words echoed in the quiet room.

"She's... Not the traitor..." He said as he stared at the two.

"There was no traitor..." He said as he noticed the pair stiff.

Ximena's eyes shook as she processed this. Her head rolled back as the blood loss caught up to her. She stayed stump in the chair as her body lost consciousness

Ghost stared at the rookie with blinded rage

"You're fucken kidding?! You ot to be fucken kidding me right now!" He roared the words as the rookie left the room. His breathing became labor, harsh and brittle even.

"you're ...fucken..." He let a sigh out as he ran his gloves hands over his face. Starting to feel terrible. He glanced to his wife with concern.

He did this

He

Did

This

The realization hit him like bricks. He was a terrible soldier. He tortured an innocent person.

He harmed his wife.

His other half. And worse he didn't believe her for a second. Not a second through the months of this rigours process.

He

Doubted

Her

For

Months

The words swirled in his head as he shut his eyes tight.

How could he fix this. Them. Their relationship. Their family. Their everything-

The door opened again as his thoughts were going a million miles a minute. And Laswell stared at the two. Her eyes shook a bit as she got the medics in to take Ximena away for treatment. Once it was just Ghost and her she walked over to the younger man as she touched his arm.

He flinched as he stared to the short woman. His eyes glazed as he wanted to cry. But he was forcing himself to keep it together.

"Laswell..." He whispered her name as the older woman gave him a soft smile

"You couldn't have known.. none of us did.. well besides her.." she said as she noticed Ghost flinch at the last bit.

"She was right... She's 'ways right ya know.."

"Usually she yes. But we didn't see it.. come on.." she escorted him out as she lead him to Price's office.

The trio sat and spoke. Even Ghost yanked the mask off as it felt constricting in the moment.

His blonde hair was buzzed short. As he processed the findings. His brown eyes bore to his boots as he felt stiff.

Yet his chest was pounding. Feeling his heart spike as he was still flooded with the pain and memories of her face. Of what he did to her.

Price was calm as he tried to pull the man out of it.

"Simon look at me-" he said as he got around his desk. On his knees as he stared to the already broken man.

"We couldn't have known..."

"But she did John." He said as he didn't look up. Besides he shut his eyes. Feeling uneased

"The person that gave us these details is being detained. They won't be out till we know why they picked her." Kate said as she stared at the two men

John sighs as he pat Simon on his knees

"Look at me."

Simon blinked a bit as he finally met eye to eye to his captain. His friend.

"She'll be fine.. have a speedy recovery. She's a tough girl- she's gone through a lot worse physically..."

"But we hurt her John. We. Her team. Her family. We broke her 'rust, we broke her. I BROKE HER." He roared the last bit as he didn't realize the hot tears drip down his cheeks.

But Price did. And Laswell. The pair felt sympathy in the moment. They didn't wanna ignore the mental damage this could cause

"Of course we did.. physically and mentally.. that was us. Mentally she might take longer. She'll need longer Simon. But we'll be here with you both every damn step of the way if we must. Because you two are family.." John said firm but clear. Making his and Laswells, along with the Task Force intentions clear.

They'll be there every step of the way.

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

When Ximena woke up. Her curls were pulled into braids. Tucked over her chest.

Her eyes stung a bit. Realizing she was out for a while then -

Glancing around she was alone. It was also dark outside. Middle of the night more likely. Her hands squeezed a bit as she was checking her body.

Hands still moving. Her legs felt like sandbags, more likely from the pain medication they had to give her. Her feet sore even as she knew the needles she had in them for a few hours did some damage-

The room door open as a nurse came in. She blinked a bit as she spoke up.

"Mrs Riley... I'll inform the doctor you're awake. We have a bit to discuss with you ma'am..." She said as she slipped out a bit surprised the woman was up so early

Ximena groaned a bit as she laid there. Her body aching as she finally felt the pain her body had to endure.

She had cuts in so many places. She knew she looked like a tiger now, the bruises would go away slowly. Her nails would come back eventually- her eyes soften as she sighs. Remembering that they more likely seen her bare thigh at some point. The small carving she had on her thigh from Simon-

Where was Simon? Her kids? A bit of panic filled her chest as she tried to sit up. A groan left her dry lips as she whined. Forcing herself up from the stiff mattress. Her eyes hazed a bit as she heard the doctor gasp as they tried to get her back down. She waved her hands around as she didn't wanna lay anymore. She has sores all over her body from being in that stupid chair for three months-

Three months...

And her babies had to be three months old now. Her family-

Her eyes snapped open a bit later. Light beaming in, looking around she didn't realize she blacked out last night. A huff as she got up again. Sitting in the bed, but her eyes shifted to the sight besides her. Seeing Ghost in the chair. His brown eyes piercing into her as they finally made eye contact.

"Sim-"

"Please don't talk..." Ghost leaned forward as he was pondering how to speak. How to try and fix his mistakes. He didn't know if she'll forgive him or the team

"I'm.. not mad." She said as she got a chance before he spilled his guts. She knew what their job detailed. She knew that at any given moment it all could be swept away from them. Like the rug tugged out from underneath them. And when she was dragged into the interrogation room, it just made sense. Sadly she knew since Soap had been injured, the team didn't trust just anyone. And she was just someone that helped from time to time. Even if they've all broke bread together in her home.

Ghost stared at her for a second as he took in her words. He felt his mind spiral as he pressed his face into his palms. Leaning forward into the bed as he stared through the mask holes

"But we.. Ximena we did so much to you. Three months." He said as he felt his breathing quicken and panic rise

"But I get it.... We just.. Simon we could of lost Johnny. Anything or anyone can betray us.. and I get at the time you all believed I did something..." She said as she leaned forward. A groan left her lips as she felt the stitches on her stomach ache from the pressure

"I'm not mad... I'm not mad at any of you..." She repeated the words as she sighs. Bringing her hands over his as she knew he was close to a panic attack.

"I'm right here... Hey I'm right here. Simon miede.. look at me.." she whispered to him as he finally. Finally lifted his head up a tad, looking up to his wife. And she broke in that moment.

"I 'hought I lost ya... I 'hought I wasted years.. I believed you betrayed us. Our family. Our promise..." His voice shakes, the hot tears streaming down. Soaking his mask as he pressed his face into her palms. Taking in her warm dainty hands.

"I'm sorry mamas... 'm so sorry.. I should of believed ya...I should of known you wouldn't..." He said as the pain raked over him. His shoulders slumped as he felt the weight slowly fading off his back.

Her eyes creased as she leaned in. Pressing a soft kiss to his forehead as she softly shook in his touch.

"I would never .. and I mean it, would never hurt you. Or this team.. we're a family.. we're all we have left." She whispered as she softly hums. Her eyes flicker to his. Trying to range his emotional state and well being.

"How are you?" She asked as she waited for him to response.

His eyes soften as he peer into hers. Softly his brain swirled with so many thoughts. Their family had to endure these past months. Their new born twins, their elder children. How her family was left out of the situation. How the team had to handle and deal with the consequences now.

He ran a hand over his mask as he sighs.

"Not well... 'he kids miss ya. 'm not gonna lie, I missed you. I don't know it's been a storm without mamas 'm not gonna lie... I lost myself a bit..." He whispered as if it was a sin. A sinister act that he had done, and knowing he was here now. Hand in hand with hers as he gave her scar hands a rub.

" 'M sorry love..." He whispered as he pressed a kiss through his mask. Softly giving her a few as he wanted to make up for his sins towards her.

She softly watched him, her brown eyes soften. A small flicker of light in them as she listened to his words.

"I'm probably crazy... I know most would be outraged or upset. Probably never talk to you lot every again...But don't blame ya... I can't, if something similar happened I would of done the same. More likely would have to either way..."

Her voice was soft as she looked down, she tapped her foot as she felt an odd normalcy

"Did they say when I can go home?"

"Mmm no.. John wanted speak to ya..." He said looking at her. He never let her hand go, not wishing to make another mistake again.

"Ok... That's fine then... I hope soon. I wanna see the kids..." She softly smiled to him as she beamed with joy. A soft light.

Ghost felt like his wife was an actual angel, and him the sinner in church that didn't deserve the attention.

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

When she returned home. The kids surrounded her.

Her four tots were thrilled mommy was home. But she did look different.

Her leg had a wrap around it, on her thighs. Her curls were a bit shorter, mid back now no longer the hip length she worked for.

Her scar hands linger as she rubbed them over her sweet children's heads. Her body aches even as her eldest surrounded the thirty something woman.

Simon sighs as he swayed his kids off

" 'Lright tots, let mum breath. Go sit, 'M gonna help mum over."

The kids sigh and agree as they waddle into the living.

Ximena gripped his hand as he eased her into the house.

He knew she came back differently. Mentally and physically, she sighs a bit as they settled on the couch. The kids and her snuggles up as she softly felt peace creep inside her.

Simon sighs a bit as he was content with her finally being home. Feeling their home be full again, the light that was missing was brought back in.

And he knew that, along with his kids. He noticed the infants in their playpen as they were kicking and giggling. The little girls were excited as they heard their mums voice.

He went over and picked up the three months old twins. Bringing them over as he tucked them into his wife's arms.

"They missed you too..." He whispered as he knealt besides them. He glanced to his wife as he thought of her

She was his stars, the moon, and the sun all in one being. He sighs as he rest his head against her thigh.

The family felt complete now.

But sadly who knew how long it would take for them to heal. Or how this would effect the family structure they created.

Ximena knew one thing for sure. She missed three months of her children's lives.

Especially the twins she gave birth to. But only time could tell.

Months would pass since. And the family wasn't the same. Ximena softly spiral. Even had to go therapy since she was released.

She noticed she didn't have a bond with her twins. The girls seeking their father more often.

She felt terrible, like she was failing in life since she was released. Her curls framed her face as she sat on her bed. Softly sobbing as she didn't feel like herself anymore.

On the other side of the bedroom door. Simon leaned on it. Knowing it was his and his men's fault. They destroyed a very able woman. One that was once feared by many.

And turned her into a crumble of a woman. Now a shell of who she once was

And he knew. He softly created a monster of a woman. But not one to fear. One that feared others.

He saw the way she stared at him. Or the lads when they came over.

Soap was the only one she was close to now. Since he was injured during the time. He wasn't given the okay till she was released.

Both bonding over their trauma. Sadly for different reasons.

Simon slid down the door as he prayed

Prayed this wasn't the end of his beloved marriage. Along with his precious wife he had devoted all his time to. He prayed to whoever would listen.

He didn't want it to end like this-

Nor did she.

Both truly distraught over the relationship they had once. Where laughter was all the house was once filled with. Love and smiles was painted on the walls of the built home.

This home was created from scratch. Their relationship was crafted from time together. So much time together.

And tots that filled its halls. Because they had an undying love for the other. An undying devotion to each other.

But the strain on each other began.

Arguments were a bit frequent. Soft fights about the children and them going out on dates. And him being gone often for deployment.

It started to take a small toll. But they seemed normal on the outside.

But as the sobs filled their home. Thankfully no kids home. Just them in a broken house. A broken relationship. A broken home.

#rosie writes #call of duty #cod #oc #cod oc #writing #canon x oc #ghost cod #ghost x oc #angst! #simon riley fanfic #simon ghost riley x oc #cod ghost #john price #kate laswell #oc fanfiction #simon ghost riley #simon x oc #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley x oc fic #simon riley #simon riley fanfiction #cod fanfiction #cod fanfic

[weasleyreidstyles]

lil chapter seventeen snippet because i've been starving you all (im sorry😶😶)

It was becoming harder to swallow as a sob crawled its way up your throat at the sight. You gripped your father's hand in your's tightly and he squeezed back.

At that moment, it seemed like all the warmth from the sun was sucked from the atmosphere, as a cold shiver ran down your spine. You couldn't feel the powerful allure of his magical core anymore. His covered body looked so small and frail in Hagrid's arms and you finally let out a muffled sob as he makes his way past your row.

You feel a wave of love, sorrow and care caress your mind, which lets you know that, despite the indifference he holds towards his Headmaster, Mattheo was also feeling the devastation that their safety blanket; the one who was supposed to help defeat great evil, was gone.

i haven't finished writing it all but i have edited the first like half of it (surprise surprise its the only part i've fully written), the rest is just waiting in the doc lol

i have a feeling it'll be a long one since there's actually so much happening so i might end up splitting it into two chapters again🫣🫣🫣

#serendipity series #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle #snippet #angst!

[valeriianz]

You always push people away. I just thought you'd never do that to me.

Or

I never meant to hurt you.

(From Hit 'em where it hurts sentence prompts!)

human au. CW: infidelity. some spice.

EDIT: expanded on Ao3!

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

“This needs to stop, Dream.”

Dream blinks as he looks down the bed at Hob, who’s sitting on the edge, fully dressed and far out of Dream’s reach. 

“What?” Dream mumbles, sitting up against the headboard and rubbing the gunk from his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

Hob takes a long breath, holding it. Like he’s preparing himself for a fight. Dream blinks again and fully takes in Hob. The t-shirt that he had ripped off him last night. The leather belt holding up Hob’s jeans that they’d used once or twice, tying Dream to the headboard and Hob raveging his body while all Dream could do was pull at his restraints and make noises no other man had managed out of him. 

His gaze travels down and Dream’s heart gives a painful lurch at the sight of Hob’s wedding ring on his left hand. 

“What’s going on?” Dream dares to ask, his voice unrecognizable even in his own ears.

It’s agony that Hob doesn’t turn his head. Doesn’t even acknowledge Dream.

“You heard me. I’m–” Hob takes another rattling breath, his head dipping down towards his chest. “I’m leaving.”

Dream’s entire body goes cold but he yanks the duvet off him anyway, crawling up behind Hob.

“No.”

Hob gives a breathless laugh, disbelieving, bitter.

Dream gets a hand on Hob’s shoulder. “I won’t let you.”

Hob finally turns his head and the look he levels Dream with breaks his heart.

His eyes are pleading. They also shine, like Hob’s on the verge of tears. Dream swallows a lump in his throat, desperation clawing up through his chest and knotting itself there.

Hob was married.

It was never a problem for Dream. They’d met at a bar and it was so obvious Hob had just stormed out after a fight. Dream was happy to be his distraction. To be a toy that this handsome, sad stranger could use over and over again.

Only after the first time, it became an addiction for both of them.

Hob came back to that bar a week later, looking for Dream. And Dream had been so flattered, so fucking smug about it that he’d popped a boner right there, smirking in victory as Hob pushed him into the bathroom and railed him within an inch of his life. They’d almost snapped the sink off the wall of that establishment. 

Dream never considered himself a “home-wrecker,” especially when it appeared Hob had no home to eviscerate. He never spoke of his unhappy marriage and Dream never asked, only offered up his body and his comfort and… over time, his home and his kisses and then coffee, dinner, and–

And then three months went by and Dream fell in love.

But Hob never left his wife.

Dream had hoped… selfishly, in the back of his head, that Hob would choose him. Would invite him back to his house, the home he’d shared with his wife, and remodel it with tales of their love. Of their passion and interests and early mornings lazing naked in bed, tea in their hands as Dream snuggled up to him and allowed himself the crazy concept of being in love and someone loving him in return.

Dream refused to believe that would never happen. 

“It was never meant to go this far,” Hob finally speaks again, his voice thick, quiet.

A high pitched ringing filled Dream’s ears, deafening him

“I never meant to hurt you–”

“Stop.” Dream takes a breath and it rattles down his lungs. “Stop talking.”

Hob’s brows knit together, agony written all over his face and Dream has to look away. He can feel his ears getting hot, tears welling up in his own eyes.

After a painful stretch of silence, Dream finally swings his gaze back to Hob, swallowing and forcing himself to speak.

“What’s her name?”

Something cracks in Hob’s expression and he levels Dream with a serious look.

“Dream–”

“What’s her fucking name?”

“Eleanor.” Hob responds with just as much venom, his lips parted, breathing through them. “And I told her everything.”

Dream huffs out a sarcastic breath. “You love her?”

He’s glaring at Hob now, forcing anger into his voice, into his body. Pushing down the anguish and the desperation. The wild, pathetic need to beg and plead and scream his case. Stay with me. Stay with me. Don’t leave me.

But Hob was never his. And when he opens his mouth again, the truth slams into Dream like a nail in a coffin.

“Yes.”

Hob stands and Dream lets his hand slide off him, landing onto the bed with finality.

“And we’re going to overcome this. We’re going to make it work.”

Dream couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“And you came over last night to– what? Get one last fuck in? From your side bitch?”

Hob flinches and he looks away. Good, thinks Dream. Clearly he was nothing more to Hob than that. Surely. After all this time…

“I came to tell you…” he takes a breath, eyes landing on Dream again. 

Dream doesn’t miss the way Hob’s gaze rakes down his naked form, sitting in a tangle of his own legs on the bed, looking up at Hob with what he’s sure is wild hair made from Hob’s own fingers gripping and pulling it. If Dream were to close his eyes, he could probably still feel it; Hob’s strong hands, bigger than his own, yanking Dream’s head back as he latched his teeth onto his neck. One final claim that wasn’t Hob’s to give.

Unconsciously, Dream moved his hand to rub at the spot on his neck, hiding it.

“But then what?” Dream taunts, raising an eyebrow. “You got distracted?”

Hob shakes his head, closing his eyes and smiling derisively, self-deprecating.

Dream surges up, gets his hands on Hob’s shoulders and shoves. Hob lands against the wall opposite them with a surprised cough and Dream marches forward and takes Hob’s face in both his hands and pries his mouth open with his tongue.

Hob’s hands fly to Dream’s shoulders, up his neck, and into his hair as he kisses back just as ferociously. Jaw dropping and moaning as Dream slots his front against Hob’s, pushing him further into the wall as he punishingly consumes Hob from the inside out. 

It’s all teeth and tongue and Dream chokes back on a sob at the desperate way Hob holds on to him, how he bites and snarls back, spinning them around and crowding Dream against the wall instead.

Dream whines as Hob bites his bottom lip and rolls his hips, his erection straining through his jeans rubbing against his own in delirious friction. And Dream hates it. He hates Hob.

“You’ll never be rid of me, Hob Gadling,” Dream purrs in his ear, biting it.

Hob goes very still in Dream’s hold and Dream almost laughs. He wishes he could. He’d laugh and laugh and laugh until he was screaming.

“No,” Hob agrees, breathless. He finally pulls back. He stares at Dream, pupils dilated, chest heaving. “You have a piece of my heart.”

He brings a hand up and presses his thumb against Dream’s bottom lip. Dream wants to bite it. Wants to push him off. Wants wants wants.

Hob takes a breath, finally, truly, stepping away from Dream. His hands drop to his sides. 

“But you’ll never have all of it.

(thank you @seiya-starsniper for helping me figure this out) angst prompts

#dreamling #hob x dream #summary: Hob cheats on his partner with Dream #i love/hate this so much i might polish it up and post it on ao3 #mm hmm #my heart hurts why did i do this?? #my writing #angst!

[osarquivosmagnus]

I'm here once again talking about qsmp (and I'll do it again!) but I just wanted to say I was already invested in guapoduo from cellbit's pov cuz I thought they were very funny and sweet whenever they were hanging out, but I only had really cellbit's pov bc that's where I watch it from... and then yesterday I finished watching felps and cellbit getting saved from the federation and tuned into roier's stream from that day to see what it was like from everyone else, and when they are running away from the dungeon with the guys safe and sound there is a moment he stops, picks up the picture of himself, cellbit, richas and bobby, shakes his head with a smaaall little smile and a sigh and goes back to running right behind cellbit and that, my friends. Oh that. That meant EVERYTHING to me...

#qsmp #I'm aware of them breaking up #and just watched abueloier get killed by cellbit #so yeah this is gonna hurt #but Id also like to say cellbit and roier have insane chemistry #i dont mean this in a weird shipping way away from the characters btw #i just think roier is REALLY funny #holding up the bit and yes anding everything is something they do sooo well #and it works!! #like abueloier and cellbit talking had me in stitches istg #cant wait to finally get to their wedding #but first #ANGST! #guapoduo

[1leeknower]

...Sorry I didnt kiss you, but its obvious i wanted to, [...], I do anything for you, but would you do that for me too?...

⏤͟͟͞͞ Lee Know x Male reader

angst!

Part 1 here

(this is short, but i wanted to post this one as soon as possible so i could start working on the next chapter, this somehow turned into a series lol)

Minho was asleep on his bed, his soft snores could be heard from where you sat, looking through the window, analysing each car that passed by. You found yourself thinking about Lino again. Random stuff hidden deep down in your head, stuck in your throat, rambles no one will ever hear.

How you wish you could make him laugh, like he did when he was around jisung, but you knew you could never, because you were aware of how many problems you had brought to lino, it was never planned to be like this, actually, you started to hang with minho, when you got transferred to his school around 9th grade.

You were immediately hypnotized by how stunning he looked, your plan was to just make out with him at some point, and then never talk about it again, but as time went by you found yourself falling for him, actually liking his company, it didnt seem different for him. That made you step back, deciding to not ruin your friendship, instead you just slept around, not even noticing how lino actually felt.

He felt somewhat betrayed, but why should he? he wasnt your boyfriend after all, yet Lino thought that his company was all you needed, i mean, after all, hes still the one who you open to, hes your shoulder to cry on, but why youre never there when he wakes up? why are you never lovely smilling at him? why do you tell you love him, yet never made him yours? he's tired of seeing the empty space on "your" side of his bed, tired of never being able to stay in a relationship cause all he could think about was you, Not once did he made this mistake, he never got slightly romantically close to a women, cause he knew it would be nothing like you, so he went after men, even then it could never be like you, he could never get a boyfriend cause he always moaned your name, or said your name while talking to his exes it was clear who he wanted. Yet you still didnt know.

Dont blame him, you weren't always like this, it seems like you got lost at some point, maybe Minho could help you fix it, but only help, this was between you and yourself, you had to fix it. Minho knew you could do it, but you didnt.

Or did you? Were you just pretending, so you wouldn't have to deal with the awkwardness that it would be to reject your best friend? Not having answers killed Minho, he wanted to ask you about everything he needed to know, but he was scared he might lose you.

You licked two of your fingers and put out the cigarette with them, putting the cigarette on your pocket, you didnt want to make lino's house dirty, even if it was the smallest piece of dust, You were already being a burden, you didnt want to make it worse.

You got up as soon as you saw the sun beginning to rise, walking to the living room, careful not to wake minho up, you didnt even get to close your eyes the whole night. After heading out of his room, you took one last look a Minho's sleeping form, taking in how peaceful he looked, Lino was an angel on earth.

You took your coat from where it sat on the couch, you had left it there last night. It didnt feel right to take it with you, cause it seemed like it was part of linos house, like a piece of you was with him, it was your scent on a house full of minho's, you loved his perfume, but mixed with yours?? it was pure perfection.

This thought made you hesitate, should you leave? or should you rest beside minho, fill the empty space on his bed, make breakfast with him, laugh with him, be happy with him. The thought of minho's eyes being the first thing you saw by the morning felt so good, it made you warm, it's been so long since you felt that way.

You and Lino always got along so well, like milk and cookies, they are good by themselves, but much better together. Of course you and lino had other friends, but nothing was like the two of you, the world seemed to stop when you were with minho, as if you two had your own little world, it was cute.

Then you remembered, all of that was left behind, you didnt have sleepovers anymore, you didnt have to worry about his parents walking in while the two of you were laughing and playing games when you were supposed to go to sleep, to get up for school early, you werent like milk and cookies anymore, the world you two built was starting to fall down, tearing apart slowly, and you two were only watching, as if you couldn't do anything about it, did you not care anymore? was it all worthless? did it ever mean something to any of you two?

Even though the two of you have never been together romantically, it felt like a divorced couple that cant help, but get pulled to each other, the thought of being alone being unbearable, but getting hurt every second together. You missed the days where anyone could swear he was your loving boyfriend.

Minho opened his eyes, looking around the room, searching for your eyes. He was eager to go to the living room when he saw you werent anywhere on his bedroom, hoping that you were still there, maybe you slept on the couch? but as soon as he got there he could hear the front door closing, you were gone. again.

Lino took a deep breath, and leaned against the wall, he wanted you back, but not as a friend, maybe he should be grateful you were still talking to him, and stop being so ambitious, you werent even close friends anymore, how could you ever be his lover?

#mlm #fanfiction #male reader #lee know x male reader #skz x male reader #stray kids x male reader #lee minho x male reader #top male reader #▪️Punkz writing ⛓️ #angst!

[sonicsquid3000]

What if William made MC forget about him completely?

If you wanna skip the introduction you can scroll down to the next paragraph. This is my first post every here and my first fanfiction. This is from the dating game ikemen villains that just released to the US recently and I'm very excited. I've just started the game and I'm currently on chapter 6 on my William Rex route. (I'd be further but I'm broke :')) Even so, i already have angst prepared. Keep in mind none of this is cannon what so ever and everything can and will be inaccurate to the game timeline. Also I will be using my mc's name rather than the in game name. If people like it a lot and want a y/n version of the fanfic I will gladly make another. If you want a proper, more brushed up version of the fanfic, you can find it on AO3 (once i get my account that is) Anyway, enough talk. Lets get into it! Warning: grammatical errors

It was beautiful day in London which was quite rare considering how gloomy the city could be. Belle was sitting on a bench in a park reading her rendition of Lewis Carrol's "Alice in Wonderland" that had released a few decades ago. She was dressed in a simple yet fine dress of browns and greys, befitting of the current fashion period, complementing her warm caramel skin. Her ebony hair was picked up in a beautiful bun with a few strands of hair gently arranged. She looked far more elegant than compared to a few years ago when she was just a letter carrier, barely making it by.

She enjoyed reading her book along with hearing the sounds of the birds chirping, the carriages rolling by, and the few bits of laughter and giggling of children off in the distance. But all of that was interrupted when she heard one important voice call out to her. "Isabelle!" the man shouted, catching up to her. She looked up and smiled seeing who it was. She closed her book and got up from the bench and approached him. She felt warm and fuzzy just as much as she did when she first laid her eyes on him. Just as handsome as he ever was. He was the one man that could make her feel like she was in the stars above. The love of her life. Her dearest and darling husband........ Bryan Bennett.

When she finally approached him, she gave him a deep and loving kiss and he returned it with the same amount of tenderness. "I thought I had lost you there for a moment." he said with a smile. "Oh, and i brought you these." He then handed Belle a bouquet of flowers made from an assortment of red, pink, and yellow carnations, daffodils, butterfly weed, hyssop's and forget-me-not's. "Oh, these are beautiful! Thank you Bryan." Belle said as she gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek. "Come my dear. Lets not be late for the play." He said as he offered his arm to her. Belle gladly accepted as they made their way out of the park.

As they left the park, Belles eyes caught upon a man that made her blood run cold. William Rex. The last she saw of him, he invited her to one of his social gatherings where he made here feel welcomed at first but was quickly cornered by him. He would've done who knows what had it not been for her now husband. On one hand, thanks to him, the two of them were able to meet and fall in love. Then again, she shutters from the thought of that memory. As they walked by, he gave a smile. For what, she was unsure. He then walked away to who knows where. Every time she saw him, she felt unease and nervous around him. Yet at the same time, deep inside of her, a small part of her felt sad every time she saw him. Why, she was not sure. She payed no mind and walked with her husband to the theater.

*Flashback*

"No! I'm not leaving!" Belle yelled. "Belle please, your month is over and your free to go back to your normal life. This isn't a place you want to remain in" William urged her, sounding completely different from when they first met. "I know and I don't care! I can't.... I can't leave you." she whisperd. "Belle..." he said heartbroken. "You once told me," she started "that I was the only person who had the power to voice how my heart feels. I always ignored it, fearing of bothering others or getting my heart broken. But now I'm listening to what you said and telling you I love you. I did ever since I bumped into you in one of my deliveries. Yes, I was scared when I first saw you kill that man. But you've shown me there's more to you than that. You're kind and sweet and always care about how I or others feel. You commit crimes but you do it for good and the good of others. and no matter how much you or others may call you a villain, your not. You're a hero." "Belle, please..." William pleaded. "Let me stay with you William. Please... I love you..." Belle begged. "I......." he had the words stuck in his throat. He reached out his hand, about to cup her face. His hands were shaking as he could barely keep his composure. ".......I'm sorry." He said and he placed his outstretched hand on her shoulder. "What are you-" "SLEEP." He commanded. She could feel his power taking over. She tried her hardest to resist, but nothing was powerful enough to break Williams command. As she was about to collapse, He caught her and swiftly carried her bridal style. He always hated using his power, and the last person he ever wanted to use it on was Belle. But he had no choice.

***

"You used your power on her?!" Victor yelled. "I know, I shouldn't have. But there was no other choice." William explained. "William, I understand that you love her very much, but this is much farther than you normal prefer to go. I mean, forcing her to stay-" "She wanted to stay." William interrupted. "I... I couldn't let her. I went too far and now she wants to get caught up in this world we live in. We're cursed Victor. One day we'll meet a horrible end. And I...... I cant do that to Belle. I can't leave her heartbroken and miserable after I die." William said as a single tear began to roll down his cheek. "My god..." Victor exclaimed. "You really fell hard for this one, haven't you?" William gave a soft, sad nod.

Victor sighed "I did warn her not to get attached to anyone in the crown.... So, how do you propose we fix this dilemma?" William rummaged through his coat and grabbed a very special book that belonged to Belle. "You don't mean-" Victor gasped. "Belle has the fairy tale keepers blessing. And that blessing is imbued in this book." William explained. "The power to write ones fate." Victor breathed "Yes. The power has only ever been to record the events of history and fairy tales. Setting them all in stone. But what if we can change the story?" William suggested. "No! That is too risky!" Victor yelled. "You don't know what that can do! How would you even-?!" "I know the exact moment to change." William said, turning to the page of their first date. When he invited her to one of his special tea parties and introduced her to Bryan Bennett.

She was a big fan of his journalism and activism but she was to nervous to speak to him. So William cornered her to all wall to catch Bryan's attention. She was in no danger what so ever. He simply played the part of the villain and led her to her knight in shinning armor. She quickly realized this and was more flustered than she was angry.

Victor frowned. "She holds this memory dear to her. You know that, right?" William sighed. "I know. But this is the only way" William said as he grabbed the nearest pen. "....... You do realize you'll forever be the villain her story?" Victor warned. William froze by then, turned to him and gave him a melancholy smile. "... When have we ever not been the villain?" With that final remark, he took his pen and erased nearly everything. Every encounter, every emotion, every tender moment between the two. He erased there the crown and how she met them. He erased their final days together. All he left, was that one night together and changed it so that he could, in now way, redeemable. Every scratch of those beautiful words she wrote about him was like a dagger to his heart. It broke him to erase the moments they had. But there was no other way to protect her. He had to do it....

*present*

As William was on a walk for his next mission, he stopped and saw Belle happy with her husband Bennett. He smiled at the two sadly. Everything before still happened. Belle spent a month with the crown, her and William still had their dates and they still fell in love. The only difference was that Belle had no recollection of their time together or the crown. For all she knew, William was a cruel and manipulative man. The thought stung him. He never thought he would feel so horrible about being seen as a villain until she came along. No matter what she may think, he would always love her. As the couple walked out of the park, Belle caught a glimpse of William. He gave her a soft smile and walked away. Not wanting to ruin her happily ever after.

#ikemen villains #ikevil #william (ikevil) #victor (ikevil) #cant forget about byran bennett #omg first post #literally so nervous to post #if anyone knows how to work tumblr please help. it would mean a lot #am i doing any of this right? #william my love <3 #ANGST! #i feed on others tears #want more angst? look up the flowers meanings in love #man this is long. oh well #fan art is welcomed #POC lets go!

[basilthymee]

How do we win?

#art thyme #2FI #Two Fibers Intertwined #rain world #iterator oc #rain world iterator #tw implied death #tagging just in case lmao #anyway #uhm #angst! #lots of it! #i love my ocs #(you can tell right) #oc

[piracytheorist]

#Colin O'Donoghue #colinodonoghueedit #mine #identity 2011 #id2011edit #John Bloom #this was a thing that happened #angst!

[azuzeldraws]

A fitful dream. My gift to @awfulloneliness 💕 for the @hashimada-giftexchange

#hashirama #madara #hashimada #nightmares #dreamscape #angst! #naruto

[c-animates]

Evil Ideas for the Season finale:

Got two ideas for how MD might end,both angsty as hell! So! 1. The Solver possesses Uzi by tricking her and using Nori's demise to break her will. Uzi kills Tessa and injures Doll,before barely stopping herself from killing N. She tells him to escape,and blows herself up to destroy the solver and cause the labs to collapse. Cut to N making it out in time and seeing the buildings crumple,and falling into despair over losing the last person he loved. He cries until morning comes,with either a reprise of "Eternal Dream" or a cover of "Alone Again Naturally" by Michael in the background. AND 2. The Solver uses N as a puppet,and tries to break Uzi both physically and emotionally using his body. Uzi is nearly driven to despair,but Doll saves her. N is trying to gain control over his body,but is unable to stand up to the solver,leaving him trapped in his own mind. Uzi works herself up to reluctantly kill the solver...even if it means killing N. Doll and Uzi battle the solver,and the two barely win. N momentarily takes over due to the solver's influence weakening,and confesses to Uzi how he's glad to have been useful for once,before he stabs his core with his tail. As Doll,Tessa,and Uzi set up explosives around the church,Uzi looks back and says her final goodbyes to the horrors of the past,setting off the explosives while fleeing. As the trio barely gets to the surface,the morning sun greets them. With Uzi holding N's hat,she puts it on and vows to kill the solver herself.

#murder drones #theory? #ANGST! #I LOVE THEIR PAIN! #Cry about it :) Literally!

[sirowsky]

Don't Die

Here comes the last of the prompts I've gotten for this celebration, and we're wrapping up with a heartbreaker! I got this ask by an anonymous sender, where the prompt was "You can't die. Please don't die." with Din x Reader, so naturally, my head went to angsty-land...

Now, as this concludes the 400 Challenge, I just wanna say thank you to everyone that sent me prompts and helped me to mark this occasion! I love all of you <3 And I'll always accept asks, requests and prompts, if I feel comfortable with the subject, so please don't hesitate to ask.

Rating: Mature Warnings: ANGST, Din Djarin x female reader, mostly Din's pov, AU. Grogu, Cobb Vanth, Peli Motto and Greef Karga appears. Word Count: 1500 Author’s Masterlist

   “He’s pacing. He never does that…” Cobb says, as he observes the Mandalorian from an alley a few doors down the street.

   “Well then, I guess he’s real anxious bout that filly. What about it?” Peli huffs where she stands next to him, arms cradling the child that anxiously coos while he watches his papa.

   “Just creeps me out,” Cobb explains, still not taking his eyes off the man.

   “That’s it? Go talk to him, then. Ask him what’s going on,” she counters, throwing an arm in Mando’s general direction, but The Marshal just scoffs, raising a pair of incredulous brows at her.

   “I’d rather wrestle a mudhorn,” he shoots back, before turning to leave.

   “Scaredy-cat!” she shouts after him, but without much conviction. Because she sure as shit ain’t gonna over there either.

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   He waits. That’s all he can do. You’re in the hands of healers, your only chance of surviving, and yet he feels like there’s something more he needs to do for you. Not that he has a clue what that might be.

   You weren’t supposed to be there.    Why where you there?!

   He’s asked the question a million times by now, even though his own mind doesn’t know the answer and remains befuddled.    He’d left you on Nevarro weeks ago, under the pretence that Greef needed help with the rebuild, but really just because Din needed to know that you were somewhere safe, and then somehow, you’d found him in the middle of a fucking firefight.

   Something had exploded, you’d both been thrown like ragdolls, and where his beskar had protected him, you’d been broken.    He’d ignored the rest of the fight, crawling to you when screaming your name yielded no response, only to find your body in terrifyingly unnatural angles.

   And now here he is, pacing outside the healer’s hut in Mos Eisley, told that the damage might be too bad, but that they’d try.    He’d told them to succeed. Not asked. Demanded.    As if life could be saved by willpower alone.

   “Mando…” a familiar voice breaks into his consciousness, and he turns to seek out its owner.

   Greef’s hands come up in a gesture of peace as Din immediately stalks towards him, grabbing his clothes over the chest and harshly tugging him right up to his own visor, with the sudden anger that floods his blood.

   “I left her with you! You were supposed to keep her safe!!” he screams as much as growls through the modulator, but Karga looks only sad.

   “I’m sorry, my friend. She asked if I knew where you were… If I’d suspected, even for a moment, that she’d steal a ship to come find you…” he tries to explain, shaking his head at his own failure, “I’m so sorry.”

   Din’s anger still boils, but the man in front of him isn’t the real cause for it, and he lets go of him, stepping away again, back to the spot by the door that he’s all but carved a trail into with his incessant pacing.

   He wants to tell Greef how it’s all his own fault, for not telling you the truth, for not confessing the depth of his affection, the real reason for leaving you there.    And he wants to tell him how he’s dying inside at the thought that your life might be ending because of his own cowardice, but he can’t.

   He can’t say any of it out loud. Because this is for your ears, not Karga’s. You’re the one he needs to explain himself to. Make amends with.    Nothing else matters now.

   The heat within him instantly gives way to ice when the door suddenly opens, and the healer steps back to let Din’s broad frame pass.    But now his legs feel heavy and sluggish, his chest constricted, and his hands start to tremble while a cold sweat is absorbed into the fabric around his neck.

   Once inside, he’s shown into a room where a figure lies on a medical bed, with a sheet pulled up to the shoulders. All limbs seem to be in their correct places, and the large open gashes to the skin have vanished, undoubtedly a courtesy of the bafta-tank.

   Standing in the doorway, he’s too far away to see if you’re alive, and his knees seem to fill with nails, torturing him at every step, but he has to know.    As he gets closer, he can see the slow breaths and he wants to be happy, to believe that everything will be okay, but the healer looks too apprehensive to set his mind at ease.

   “I wish I could tell you that she’s all fixed, but the fact is… I don’t know,” the healer says, and his voice trembles, “Her body is fine, the broken bones and sores are easily put back together, but her mind… She was technically dead for quite a while before you got her here and I just don’t know if her brain can survive that.”

   He listens, tries not to hear, not to accept. And in the end, what lingers in his mind isn’t anything the healer said at all.    It’s everything Din himself hasn’t said.

   A small sideways swipe of his head is enough to communicate that he wants the room, and the healer and his assistant both leave without another word.    Willing his knees to move again, he comes to the side of your bed, digging your arm out from under the sheet as soon as he’s close enough.

   He’s barely ever touched you before, but now he has to, to feel the reassuring warmth and softness of living tissue.    But now that he has the chance to say all those things that he thought about outside, that he swore to himself that he would tell you if he ever got to see you alive again, all die on his tongue.

   Now that you’re there, only one thing matters anymore.

   “You can’t die. Please don’t die,” he whispers, desperation, pain and fear leaking into the words, making his voice crackling and brittle.

   It’s as much as he can get out, so he prays that it’s enough. Begs the stars to let him have another chance to tell you everything, swearing that he won’t let any cowardice stand in the way, if he can just have one more conversation with you.

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   “Nononono! Come here, you little womp-rat,” Peli admonishes, as she rushes to snatch the child up before he sneaks out of the hangar. It’s only his twentieth-something attempt.    “I know you’re worried, kid, but you heard your dad, you gotta stay here til he comes and gets ya. Ain’t nothing I can do about it.”

   The kid coos unhappily, pointing at the door, and those big sad eyes finally become too much for the tough-skinned but soft-hearted engineer.

   “Oh, alright! We’ll go and see that he’s still there, but that’s it! We’re not gonna bother him, you understand?” she demands, and the child just coos again, tilting his head a tiny bit to the side.

   She growls to herself, and then sets off in the direction of the healer’s hut, but upon arriving there, finds the alley where she and Cobb loitered earlier that morning, occupied by both him and Greef Karga.

   “Anything happen?” she asks as simply as if spying on one of their friends is a common pastime for them, as she joins in, while the kid twists in her arms, trying to see better.

   “He went inside hours ago, that’s all we know.” Greef answers with a shrug, and she sighs.

   “Sorry, kid. Looks like we’re still at a stalemate. Unless one of you boys wanna mosey on over there and find out what the blazes is going on?” she challenges, and both men turn their heads to throw indignant looks at her.

   “You mosey on over there,” Cobb counters, and she quickly points at the kid.

   “Hey, I’m the baby-sitter! I gotta do everythin’ round here?” she retorts, and then twitches as the child suddenly shivers and whines.

   Vanth doesn’t notice that and is about to retort when he’s cut off by the door to the healer’s hut opening, and they all freeze, staring down the street.    Peli feels the child shiver again, before his ears begin to droop, just as Mando slowly appears through the door, his right hand holding the wall to keep him steady, but it only works for a few steps.

   He falls to his knees. Slumps. His normally so intimidating frame seeming to shrink before their eyes.

   “Oh, no…” Peli whispers, feeling tears sting her eyes.

   They all stand there, unmoving, unsure of how to possibly help anything, but feeling increasingly heartbroken at the scene before them. Because Mando deserves good things. So, so much.

   Suddenly, the kid’s ears prick, and begin to rise again, as if he’s heard something interesting or fun. But what could that possibly be?

   Then Mando lifts his head, looks up at the stars and says:

“Thank you.”

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Thank you for reading, and if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging, I would greatly appreciate it <3

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#din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x female reader #din x reader #din djarin angst #angst! #din and grogu #sirowsky 400 #400 followers celebration #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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@kamweek2023 @when-wax-wings-melt @did-i-say-you-could-get-up

this is for day 4: cowboys! inspired by @arson-anarchy-death 's cowboy au ahaha

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#kotlc #tam song #keefe sencen #kam kotlc #keefe x tam #kam week 2023 #cowboy au #angst! #specs draws #my art #i'll add the taglist in a bit! #tw death #tw blood #tw guns