#not a fix it

[garagesesh]

wintering

① Prelude - 109 AC

pairing(s): aegon ii targaryen & (f!)reader

summary: they corner the lone wolf in the dragon's lair.

warning(s): none

a/n: enjoy!

␛ to masterlist | ⎗ wintering masterlist | go to next chapter ⎘

⌘ you can find this on my ao3 account!

✦ looking for more asoiaf stories? check out my begging for rain series! ✦

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Snow fell quietly and deadly amongst the northern landscape. 

A summer snow that still managed to drown the silent hills with its white blanket, freezing the ground solid and all of its living habitants. The only sign of life in the barren white wasteland was the flickering lights of the ancient castle of Winterfell and the screams of a woman deep within the throws of labor. 

A Stark being born. 

Lord Rickon Stark’s second born child, a daughter, exactly what he had wished for. He smiled down at the newborn, amazed at just how beautiful she already was and terrified for how striking she would grow up to be. But for now, she was healthy and that’s all that mattered. 

She was born with a head full of signature Stark hair. Bright, full cheeks and eyes mirroring his own, but she had her mother's nose and cupid’s bow. 

Rickon could see just how strong she would grow up to be. Built for winter, if she was ever unlucky enough to experience it, but it wasn't the words of his family and the threat of an eternal winter that had him worried. 

It was fire that terrified him. 

It was the Weirwood that spoke to him years before when he had barely passed fifteen namedays. A night when he and his brothers had gotten in their cups and alone had stumbled to the godswood, his drunk mind either looking to repent or to find his chambers. There was no wind when the bloody red leaves waned and bent in the unusually warm evening that had whispered into his ear. 

Fire. Fire. Fire.  

He barely had any sleep for months. His mind juggled back and forth different possibilities and meanings of what the Weirwood had meant. He found himself begging in front of the old gods asking for an answer, he even looked to the faith of the seven for a sign, anything. At one point after many months of sleepless nights, countless prayers, and endless research, he decided that he had misheard. That it was noise from the party inside the walls of Winterfell. That the multitude of cups of wine and ale he had consumed put words and images in his head that were not real. 

It had taken another fifteen years of his life to hear those words again now as an old man with his daughter in between his arms. A whisper in his ear that reminded him of his fears. 

Fire. Fire. Fire.

-

Barely three moons had passed since his daughter, you, came into the world and the summer snow stayed unrelenting, still holding the North hostage in its icy claws. 

The fire raged in the solar deep at night, long past after his children and wife had retired for the evening. Rickon was surrounded by documents on a fishing dispute in White Harbor that had escalated, a death in House Reed, and a letter from his good brother in Deepwood Motte asking for advice on a topic he had no knowledge on. 

Something that Lord Glover was fond of burdening him with. 

“Pardon me, my Lord.” Maester Sylas, the new Maester sent to Winterfell only a year before, was a tall, muscular man with round wire glasses and light blond hair that was only barely starting to streak grey, if you were tall enough to be able to inspect that closely. He was from the Reach, a third born son of one of the lower houses. He was kind, gentle, but had a nervous tendency that never seemed to relent and made Rickon uneasy. 

“Yes?” Rickon dropped Lord Glover’s note, sitting back in the chair. 

“A raven has just come in.” Maester Sylas cleared his throat and stood up to his full height. His long dexterous fingers picking at the edge of the scroll. “From the King.”

Fire. Fire. Fire. 

Rickon swallowed. “Have you read it?” 

“Yes, M-my Lord.” 

He opened the scroll, reading it over carefully before folding the parchment into nervous squares.  “Maester Sylas, wake my wife.” 

“It is almost the dead of night, my Lord.” Had it been that late? “It would be better to inform Lady Stark in the morning.”

It would be for the best, he knew, to worry about this as they broke their fast after a full night’s rest, something they haven’t yet had the luxury of since the babe was born. However, she had every right to know what was going on. Rickon sighed, rubbing his calloused hand over his brow, too exhausted but this was something to not waste time on. “Now, please.” 

“Of course, my Lord.” The door closed gently behind the Maester, who had to make an effort to duck beneath the stone archway so as to not hit his head. The poor man has done so many times before in the ancient castle, a bruise on his brow was a common accessory. 

The door opened minutes later. Gilliane stood wrapped in furs that she had stolen from their bed. Her ash hair knotted and her hazel eyes sagged with bruises below. She was exhausted from the babe but he couldn’t keep it from her. “What is it?” 

“We received a letter.” 

“From who?” She shifted her furs. “Is it my brother’s? Are they alright?” 

“No.” He sighed, remembering the pages of nonsense her brother had written. “They’re alright. It’s from the King.” 

He held the starched paper to her. He looked away, unable to watch her read their doom. 

Gilliane tentatively flipped the message over in her hands, fingers finding the gold three-headed dragon wax symbol. Unable to fathom what might the King want that was so urgent, that a first good night’s rest in three moons must be interrupted for. 

Lord Stark,

I would first like to apologize for my tardiness on my letter. Queen Alicent has recently given birth to a healthy baby boy, Aegon. 

I would like to congratulate you on the birth of your newborn child. What a joyous occasion that shall be celebrated well within your halls and lands. I am also pleased to hear that Lady Stark is in good health. 

Our houses have been intertwined since my ancestors landed on Westeros and yours have been ever loyal. Ice and fire. I would think it most respectful of the relationship between King Aegon and Lord Torrhen to honor them with a marriage pact between our two houses strengthening our preexisting bond. I would like to unite our families with a betrothal between my firstborn son, Aegon and your daughter, when she comes to age. 

King Viserys I Targaryen, Prince of Dragonstone, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm

There was no question in the King’s message, it was an order from the Crown and there will be no negotiations on the matter. Their daughter was already doomed to the dragon’s lair. 

“Rickon-“ Gilliane gasped, crushing the note in her hand. Her eyes are already glassy with tears.

“I know, Gilly. I know.” He sighed deeply. 

“She is only merely a babe. How can they ask this of us already?” 

“You know what they truly seek.” To fulfill a prophecy. 

“A wolf amongst dragons-!”

“It is not ideal.”

“Not ideal? Rickon, they will tear our daughter apart limb from limb, from the inside out when she comes to age! They are cruel and unjust! They believe they are Gods. How will they treat our daughter, if they already think of us as below them?” Gilliane paced, the furs forgotten on the floor. All of a mothers worry poured out of her in unrelenting waves. “I will not allow-!”

“What choice do we have?” His fists found the wooden desk, splintering the wood. His chair grinding against the stone, echoing off the dark walls. He knew that it was a terrible thing for a Stark to be amongst the Targaryen’s, amongst the dishonor that lay in the eternal summer lands. But what choice did he-they have? To disobey? To commit treason? Torrhen Stark made a promise and Rickon was not the Stark to break that honor and loyalty for cowardice. 

“What choice would we have? If not rendered traitors, Gilliane! Never have my family ever broken their word and we promised the Targaryen’s loyalty the moment their dragons landed in the North.” 

“It’s unfair.” Her voice trembled and suddenly she was the shy sixteen year old on their wedding day. 

He relaxed at her silent cries. “I know.”

“What will we do?” She sobbed, incoherent. “They will take her away from us. From me.” 

He took his sobbing wife in his arms, shushing her as he ran his fingers in her tangled hair. “Until that time comes, my love. We must prepare her for dragons.” 

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␛ to masterlist | ⎗ wintering masterlist | go to next chapter ⎘

✦ looking for more asoiaf stories? check out my begging for rain series! ✦

#hotd #aegon ii x reader #house of the dragon #aegon ii targaryen #asoiaf #not a fix it #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader #stark reader

[manicformunson]

georgia

master list

pairing eddie munson x fem!reader

summary a look into reader's relationship with eddie before vol 2

note spoiler warnings! romanticizing eddie munson forever and always because i crave love

Eddie Munson seemed to always be there right when Y/N needed him, no matter where they were or what time it was; almost like he had some sort of psychic connection for when she was feeling even the tiniest bit in need of comfort.

Y/N loved him, even going as far as to say that he was the one. It didn't matter to her that she had never been in a relationship prior she knew that Eddie was for her.

They had met briefly when Y/N was walking out of the local music store, passing past Eddie on the way out and she had caught his eye. Eddie had later told her that she had taken his breath away and he thought that if he didn't know who she was that day then it would've been end of the world disastrous. His words, not hers.

Y/N was shy and insecure when they had first met, completely intimidated by his loud personality and thought they wouldn't last but Eddie was patient with her. She remembered being so scared to breath him in, worried that she choke on his poison but he was all perfume. He had taken the time to know her, took her under his wing and opened her up to his world which she thought was exciting.

Her own parents even thought he was a fine addition to her life, seeing the positive changes in Y/N's life. She was no longer the girl who sat alone in her bedroom on the weekends, she was going out with her new friends and enjoying all the little moments Eddie had to offer.

Eddie thought that Y/N was changing him too, fixing him even. She'd argue that he didn't need fixing, he was perfect to her but she couldn't see the issues piled up underneath that big soft heart that just wanted to love. To be loved.

Sometimes it seemed like Eddie just appeared in her life out of now where, coming up through the water without a sound to end cycle of despair. He had promised to have her, and catch her when she falls and her the same.

Y/N thought back to their second date, they had gone to the movies to see whatever was playing and it had begun pouring rain once they'd gotten out. They tried to race to Eddie's small porch but he had slipped and fell in the mud, laughing as he did so. He managed to get back up again and continue on like nothing happened.

Y/N admired that about him, being about to bounce back no matter what happened or who was messing with him. It was then Y/N decided that Eddie Munson was the one.

And hearing him say those three little words to her for the first time made her burst into tears. They had been in his room, Y/N's head laying in his lap as he strummed a soft melody just for her. When Eddie had stopped to pet her hair softly is when he had said it. "I love you, you know."

Just like that. It was so simple and everything all at once, more importantly it was so Eddie. Y/N had looked up at him, her eyes already threatening tears, "Yeah? Well, I love you too."

It seemed forever ago now. All the happy memories flooding to her only when she cried in his bed, now alone. The once warm and inviting aroma was now cold and dead, but Y/N couldn't bring herself to leave.

This was where they loved each other, this is where they had slept together, this is where she would express her worries and he had listened and reassured her that everything was going to be okay.

Y/N held onto his Hellfire shirt, clutching it tight in her chest trying her best to quiet her sobs she whispered,

"i miss you."

#eddie munson #stranger things #joseph quinn #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #this is super sad #not a fix it #i cried writing this #lmao

[happy-emmdings]

So long, we’d become the flowers

Also on AO3

Warning: Major Character Death

Summary: Emma is forced to let Killian die instead of turning him into a Dark One in Camelot. Canon divergence, but in no way is it better.

Word count: 2 959

Author’s note: Inspired by Hozier’s song In A Week.

This is it. Emma is about to step into a brighter future. And the man she wants to share it with gives her a soft, encouraging smile across the room. It's all she needs to shed any last shred of fear. She raises the broken sword and the dagger to join them in the light.

Then, in just one fatal second, everything goes from hopeful to horribly, horribly wrong.

"Hook, what’s wrong?”

"He's bleeding!"

The shouts instantly pull her attention away from her task, just in time for her to helplessly watch Killian stagger and fall to the ground.

The cursed blades slip from her hands, and she drops to her knees next to Killian. Terror seizes her heart as she watches him writhe in pain and desperately gasp for breath. His hand is clutching his throat and it's already coated in bright red blood that seeps through his fingers and stains the metal of his rings.

“No," Emma croaks out a broken whisper, "no, no, no."

This wasn't meant to happen. He wasn't meant to leave her. He was supposed to stay. He always stays. He's her survivor. He promised. He promised.

“Excalibur was forged to cut immortal ties. A wound from it cannot be healed.”

She can't even see the painful grimace on his face through the tears pooling in her eyes and spilling down her cheeks. But it's etched into her mind like a bleeding cut of her own.

She strokes his face gently and lovingly as if it could put him back together. She presses her shaking hand to his on the wound, trying to keep his life from escaping, but it slips right through her fingers. His eyes roll back into his head as he tries to rasp out a few comforting words. He's comforting her. Even now he's trying to make it easier for her. But it only makes it worse. Because God, she's gonna lose him. No. No no no. Oh, God, please no.

“Killian, you have to hold on," she begs him, grasping at the lapels of his coat until her knuckles turn white. "I can't lose you."

“It's alright," he tries to say, "Emma, it's alright."

It's not. It's the furthest thing from alright.

Her future is lying half-dead on the ground and he's as broken as the promise he made. And his face is turning as white as his lies, as all the blood slowly drains from his body. So much blood. Spilling out and drowning every last hope, painting that bright future red.

"No, please no. You have to stay," she sobs. "You have to stay. Come on, Killian. What about our future together?"

“Our future is now," he whispers in a low, tired voice between labored breaths. "Reunite the blades. So I c-can see you destroy the darkness before I g-go."

He's making a dying wish, she realizes. He's saying this is the end.

But this isn't a happy ending. This is an awful ending. This is a gruesome, blood-stained, futile tragedy.

Her true love, her future is laid down on this floor like a blood sacrifice at the altar of some foreign gods, and she has no say in it.

"No!" she cries.

"No?" Regina echoes incredulously.

"Emma, there's nothing you can do," her parents join in.

It's not true. She can save him. She will keep him. Even if it means pouring darkness into his veins and filling his head with demons. But what storm is there that they could not weather together? They can exorcise each other's demons, they can make this work.

They all plead with her not to do it. They tell her it'll come with the steepest of prices. But what price could be steeper than the one she's being forced to pay right now?

Her family is surrounding her on their knees. Her father is stroking Killian's head to comfort him as he's crying out in pain. Such tender care in their eyes, and they advocate for his death.

"I don't care what happens to me!" she argues against their pleas.

"Emma, wait."

"Please. Listen, you can't."

"Emma, your parents are right."

Killian can't even speak anymore. His eyes are clouded and distant and he's choking on his own blood.

How dare they say such things. How is this fair? After everything she's done for them. After everything Killian's done. Is he not family? Does he not deserve better than to be left for dead?

After she was promised as a sacrifice for the greater good on the day of her birth and made to bear the burden of their savior, how dare they tell her to give him up? After the risk she took for Regina and Robin, why can't she take the same risk for Killian?

"I'm not gonna lose Killian," she insists in a hoarse voice. "I won't let anyone stop me."

“No," she hears and the word pierces through her mind like a dagger and freezes her in place. The field of roses she's trying to reach in her mind is forcefully torn from her, and she remains nailed to the diner's floor.

She turns around with desperate fury in her eyes. Regina is holding out the blade with Emma's name on it. Blinding white-hot rage fills her at the sight.

“I won't let you do it, Emma," the Queen says, calm and resolute. "Let go."

Emma’s hands go slack on their own, losing their grip on Killian's leather coat. She glances at him with increasing panic in her eyes. Her heart is pounding so fast she might just die right there, immortal or not.

She's losing him. There's no time. Color is fading from his face. There's a puddle of blood around his head, soaking his ebony hair.

“What are you doing?" she barks out angrily, her voice breaking. She stares at her trembling hands.

"Saving you from making a mistake," Regina insists and her calmness sounds so infuriatingly arrogant to Emma's ears.

"No!" Emma sobs. "You don't get to do that! If you could have saved Daniel... or Robin... Look how far you were willing to go! How far you pushed me to save him! You can't do this to me!"

“I have to. You gave me the dagger, remember?"

"This isn't why I gave it to you!" she screams.

"This is exactly why you gave it to me," Regina counters.

“No! Give it to me. I take it back!"

"I'm afraid that's not happening," Regina shakes her head and takes a deep breath as she holds out the cursed blade. "I command you, Dark One, to let him go. For your own sake."

The command is final and nonnegotiable. It's a death sentence embellished with halfhearted self-righteousness. And there's nothing Emma can do against it. She might as well have her heart ripped out from her chest.

Emma wants to lunge at her but the tiniest of whimpers makes her whip her head around to look at Killian. All fight drains from her and she's left shivering with a cold dread, as her heart sinks deep into a pit in her stomach. She strokes his hair with a shaking hand and cries.

She can't even press her hand against the bleeding wound, no matter how much she wants to, because her own body refuses to obey her, as it's enslaved to the dagger's power.

Her forehead falls on his and she hugs him close, carrying them to the field of flowers in her mind.

“It's alright, Emma," he rasps out so quietly, she can barely hear him. "I don't want... to pay the price. I don't want to become t-that... It's enough... It's enough for me that... that you'll have that future."

"But that's not enough for me!" she cries desperately.

She calls upon the darkness to bring her Excalibur, but it doesn't come. The last command she was given still stands and her hands are tied. She can't do anything to save him.

She sobs into Killian's chest as it slowly ceases to rise and fall. The last thing she feels is a weak, trembling touch on the crown of her head. He uses his last drop of strength and consciousness to gently brush his fingers through her hair and then his hand falls limply at his side.

A loud, broken cry shakes Emma's entire body.

A part of her mind - that feels distant and separated, as if floating above her - is faintly aware of the birds chirping in the background and the rustling leaves, the sun on her skin and the sweet smell of flowers. They're back in the field of roses. Just the two of them...

She reaches for his hand, intertwines her fingers with his and pulls their joined hands close to her chest, over her beating heart. She keeps her eyes closed and snuggles into his side as if they're lying in bed together, in a home they share, in the house he picked.

But he is completely silent. Completely still. She can't steady her breath and he has lost his completely.

She'll never hear him snore. She'll never hear him laugh again. She'll never hear him say just the thing, she needs to hear when no one else gets it.

She wishes he would just say something so desperately, that it hurts.

"Say something, Killian," she whimpers into his shoulder and clutches his hand tighter. "Don't leave me like this."

Silence.

“Come back," she pleads quietly and strokes his face, smearing blood on his cadaverous skin. "Please, Killian."

Birds. Leaves. Breeze.

"You said you were a survivor. You said I didn't have to worry about you."

Not even a sigh.

“Liar," she sobs and holds him closer. "You're such a fucking liar."

They lie there. Like two bodies in a grave.

She can feel him slowly growing colder.

She knows that if she doesn’t get up now, she’ll just bury herself alive next to him. But she has to hide in the meadow, because he has taken off her armor and she can’t remember where it went.

At one point she rolls onto her back to lie at his side and keeps holding his hand, mirroring the way they lay in this exact same spot only a week ago. Maybe they just fell asleep there. Maybe she'll wake up to him snoring quietly next to her. Maybe she'll wake up and his hand will be warm again. Maybe he'll wake her with a sweet kiss and a playful tickle. Maybe she'll open her eyes to see him smiling down at her.

Slowly, she almost drifts off to a light slumber for the first time since she appeared in this godforsaken kingdom. But she can't.

The silence is deafening and the cold is seeping into her bones and the setting sun can't seem to warm her up.

And he's gone. And she's holding a corpse.

***

It takes almost an hour before they find her. They're all devastated and worried sick, but when Regina goes to summon Emma back, David stops her. He saw the look in Emma's eyes when she was controlled with it. They can't do it to her again. Especially not right now.

Henry doesn't say a word. He walks away to sit in a booth by himself, buries his face in his hands and cries quietly. Regina goes to comfort him, but he shrugs her hand off his shoulder.

When he raises his head up, they catch him staring blankly at the puddle of blood left behind on the floor. Someone quickly mops it up. Henry's eyes don't move from the spot.

The sun was just starting to set, when Emma disappeared with Killian. Now, the sky is slowly turning darker and a pink glow bleeds into the horizon.

"Where has she gone?" Snow asks anxiously after a long, stunned silence.

“How would I know?" Regina throws her hands up.

“We should go find her," Snow insists.

“Well, I could just summon her," Regina grumbles, waving her hand with the dagger.

“We said no," David frowns.

"Can you use the dagger to take us to her?" Snow asks.

"I think so," Regina nods.

The three of them glance anxiously at Henry. No words need to be spoken for them to agree that whatever state they'll find his mother in, he should not be there to witness it.

"Henry," Regina approaches him gently, keeping her voice low and comforting. "We're gonna find Emma, okay? We'll be right back, just stay here."

Her son nods slowly and looks at her with raw and unfocused eyes. Finally, he lets her hug him.

Regina doesn't look like she wants to leave but Emma's parents insist. So, she commands the Dark One to take them to her.

They're carried to a place far too beautiful for the sad occasion. In the dimness of dusk, pink petals of a myriad of flowers appear to shine in the dark tall grass, almost like fallen stars. In the midst of all that beauty, they see a chilling vision.

A couple lies in the grass, hand in hand. From a distance it looks like they are sleeping. But the pirate's skin is too pale and his cheeks are sunken and their joined hands are covered in dried blood.

Emma stirs and slowly sits up, when they begin to approach her. There are dried tear tracks on her face and her eyes are red from crying, but the look in her eyes is blank. She puts Hook's head into her lap and gently caresses his face with her knuckles.

David gulps, but he can't tear his eyes away. Snow sobs and covers her face. Regina just stares.

"Emma..." David starts carefully.

She looks at them and pouts, pulling the pirate's lifeless body closer to her chest as if to protect him.

"What are you doing?" Regina asks wearily. There's sympathy in her eyes but not patience.

Emma's eyes land on the dagger in the Queen's hand, and she looks at her in a way that makes even Regina's blood freeze.

"Why did you do this?!" Emma hisses and they all flinch. She doesn't sound like herself at all. "I could have saved him."

"We came here to get rid of the Dark One's curse, not multiply it," Regina crosses her arms. "The whole point was to save you."

"I don't feel saved," Emma spits. "Don't you get it? No one saves the Savior. I just keep paying the price. The price of your curse. Your bullshit."

“This isn't my fault!" Regina argues. "I didn't even have to bother coming here!"

“Maybe you shouldn't have," Emma frowns. "I never should have given you that damn dagger!"

"Emma, please," Snow whispers softly. "Killian wouldn't want to become the Dark One. He spent a lifetime trying to destroy him."

"Come with us, Emma," David pleads. "You can't stay here like this. He's-"

The rest of the sentence dies on his lips. He can't bring himself to say it out loud.

Emma buries her face in Killian's hair and a quiet sob shakes her frame.

Regina pulls out the dagger again.

"Don't make me make you," she sighs.

Emma looks up slowly. Her eyes are sunken, raw and dangerous.

"Regina, stop," Snow interferes with a hint of guilt visible on her face.

"We won't force you to do anything, honey," she turns to her daughter. "But please, come with us."

“For Hook, Emma," David pleads. "You can honor him by destroying the Dark One. Once and for all."

"I am the Dark One," she rasps blankly.

"Don't be stupid, Emma. Are you planning to spend eternity here? Because I don’t think these flowers will drown out the smell," Regina lectures her, ignoring the flare of anger in Emma's eyes. "Finish what you started. Unite the blades and end this."

Emma swallows a broken sob and glances down at the man in her arms - the body in her arms. 

There is something absolutely chilling about the way her face goes blank when she finally looks up. Her eyes are vacant and it looks like she's staring right through them. 

No, she isn't looking at them at all. A chill creeps up their spines with a paranoid feeling that something sinister is standing right behind them, staring back into Emma's eyes.

"Alright," she says calmly, her voice raspy and hollow. "I will. Give me the dagger then."

All their eyes are drawn to the wavy blade. Regina hesitates and tightens her hold on the hilt.

Emma raises her eyebrows and somewhere between the lines it feels like a threat. All the while, she continues to run her blood-stained fingers through Killian's hair.

It may just be the dusk playing tricks on them, but they could swear her hair is a shade paler than it used to be and her skin sparkles ever so slightly. Her eyes are unfocused and her smirk is sharp.

"What?" she asks coldly. "Are you afraid of me?"

#ouat fanfic #captain swan #killian jones #emma swan #dark swan #major character death #tw death #tw corpse #not a fix it #a ruin it if you will #idk what’s wrong with me #tragedy~ #they’re so orpheus and eurydice #nya writes

[kindlingkeen]

Chapter 7: Epilogue

Jason creeps down one of Tadrib Almawt’s lesser used passages, moving from one shadow to the next as he works his way steadily toward the back entrance to his suite of rooms.

Rounding the last corner, he stops short at the sight of the figure waiting for him outside his door.

“Ibn al Shayṭānah, welcome home.”

Chapters: 7/7 Fandom: Batman - All Media Types, Batman (Comics), Red Hood: Lost Days, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Talia al Ghul & Jason Todd, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne Characters: Jason Todd, Talia al Ghul, Bruce Wayne, Joker (DCU) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Temporary Character Death, Jason Todd-centric, Lost Days-Era Jason Todd, Unreliable Narrator, Past Talia al Ghul/Bruce Wayne, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Manipulation, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Dissociation, Panic Attacks, Flashbacks, Minor Character Death Series: Part 1 of Choices Summary:

Do not seek him out. You remain unavenged.

In the beginning, Jason viewed Talia’s words as the fire that forged the knife point of his rage and shaped a quest for revenge.

With time and space, and after a lot of bruises, he came to appreciate Talia’s words for the warning they truly were. An attempt to impart insight that while Jason was alive, his life, his old life, was still over. That he’d changed so much, he no longer fit into the place he used to fill. And that the safety he used to find there had never been real.

But that understanding came later, after time, and space, and a lot of bruises.

Or,

A Lost Days AU in which Talia makes different choices. Some things change, some things stay the same.

Image source: Red Hood and the Outlaws, Vol 1

#it’s finished! #chapter update! #my fics #the people we choose #jason todd #talia al ghul #bruce wayne #lost days au #not a fix it #but sort of a fix it

[mykuup]

Everything will remain the same

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Summary : Tangerine needs to get all of the pressure off after every mission and you're here for it. It always worked like this. But one day you got bored and kinda disgusted so you decide to do something about it. Feelings aren't allowed here... Right ?

wc : 2k

Warning : minor DNI 18+ // graphic smut // angst // not a fix // kinda non con // mention of scars // broken people // unprotected sex (piv) // oral (m receiving) //

A/n : Another fic inspired by a song 🙄. I highly recommand to listend to all the songs of TENDER bc it's just... incredible ! I wrote this fic listening "Erode" on repeat (you may spot some lyrics here and there 👀)

☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰

After a month in Japan, and because they almost got killed during the mission, Lemon and Tangerine decided to take a break. They were tired, broken in pieces, haunted by all this blood, all those murders. They needed to rest. Well, Lemon required to rest, and Tangerine had other plans, other needs. Back in their country, Tangerine wastes no time and heads blindly to the club. He knows you will be there. You have to. It always worked like this.

You’re used to seeing him leave and come back to you. Sometimes wounded, sometimes just angry. You don’t really know who he is, what’s his job and you don’t really care. You try to not be worried or affected by this “torture” of waking up alone after a night with him. If you would be honest with yourself, you give him the same torture back as it always worked like this. It has been a month that you haven't seen his face now but you kept living your life like nothing happened. In the end, you’re heartless, used to spend time with fake friends, fake lovers. You can’t get attached to someone, you tried it before and your heart broke into a million pieces, so here you are, heading to that club to try to forget everything again and again.

As you are going upstairs to get to the VIP section, your eyes fall on a familiar face. You can’t believe he’s here after a whole month.

Looking directly at you, Tangerine’s here, sitting at the same damn place every damn time he comes back from only God knows where. His eyes are following you like a hunter tracking his prey. Even tho you’re on the other side of the room, you can feel his feral demeanor. He was drinking champagne by himself, manspreading in his seat and his arm resting on the top of the black velvet sofa. The loud sound of the music was just white noise to your ears and the strobing lights were accentuating his features like a slow-mo movie. Seeing each other, both of you didn’t need to talk or move. You just knew what will happen later that night.

You both were used to it tho. Since you met him at this club, it was like a ritual for both of you. Like a contract you both never signed but yet linked the two of you with an invisible bond that no one really wanted. But you knew it was a fling. You were a fling for him, as he was for you. Well, that’s what you thought but as you’re trying your best not to fall into something deep for him, Tangerine on the other side, stopped fighting against his own feelings a long time ago.

A few hours passed but each of you stayed still at their place. Glancing from time to time in his direction as you’re dancing with strangers, Tangerine doesn’t let his eyes get off of you for a second. But as he sees you leaving the club, he gets up and follows you like a fool under a spell, blinded by a mysterious power. He heard you saying goodbye to your “friends” before he decided to move closer to you. You knew it was him at the smell of his strong cologne and, without checking, you rest the back of your head on his broad torso. His strong arms hug your body as his lips reach the tender skin of your neck.

This was the sign.

This was the manifestation of his call for love and his craving for touch. And you couldn’t resist answering that call. So you followed him to his car and then to the door of his flat. This was like all the other times before. Nothing new under the sun and you started to feel used to it and not in a good way.

Of course, you wanted him, and yes you liked the way he was making you feel. But you couldn’t afford to be in love with him. Not when you only shared bedsheets and spend a few hours from time to time in the middle of the night. You knew almost nothing about him and he didn’t ask you anything either to get to know you…

Tangerine surely felt your hesitation and he stops kissing you as you weren’t responding to his touch.

“Tell me how it is.” he simply says.

Shaking your thought out of your mind, you put your arms behind his neck and move a step closer to him to gently rub your nose against his. Tangerine instantly closes his eyes, breathing in your embrace. You could feel his hands gently roaming on your body as he was craving for you to get even closer. One of your hands got lost in his hair and the other one undo every button of his shirt mechanically.

Tangerine’s boiling inside. Your touch burned him like the biggest wildfire and your scent intoxicated him like the best drug he ever had in his entire life. He wanted you to know how easily you were lighting him on fire at every stroke, every touch, every kiss. Oh, he loved the way you were brushing his skin lightly. He loved the way your tongue was dancing with his, drawing the line of his teeth. Your kiss was deep, well, at least it felt deep for him. You, on the other hand, felt nothing more than a dying spark in your stomach. 

But it always worked like this.

Like a machine, your hand touched this specific part of his body, your lips brushing that particular spot that sends shivers down his spine. He understand long ago that you knew every move that brings him closer to the edge. You were so good at giving him pleasure, how could you not feel the same thing he had for you? Tangerine gets out of his mind when he sees you undressing yourself in front of him. He would kill every person on earth for a chance to see you like this every morning until the end of his life. You crawled mindlessly upon him and stopped yourself mid-way to his body. Eyes half-closed, you open your mouth and let your tongue swirl subconsciously around his tip. You could already taste the precum at his head and you rolled your eyes, getting tired of the same old shit. Tangerine sighs heavily and reaches your face to cup your cheek.

That was new.

You stop what you were doing to look at him. You could see something different but couldn’t put a finger on it.

“M’here please” he whispers, almost begging.

Your lips leave his length and your body moves until you are straddling him. As he lays on his bed, Tangerine contemplates you, his hands caressing you gently. His eyes never leave yours and you tried to understand what’s going on in his mind. But as always, he didn’t say anything... Tangerine wasn’t talkative and, at first, you felt blessed because it was easier to not fall for a stranger. But with time, the silence becomes heavy and the heat you felt before was now as cold as ice.

You remember you were in the middle of something when you hear Tangerine grunt.

He couldn’t stop looking at your naked breast that was bouncing above him. Your hair starts to stick to your skin because of the sweat dripping from your body. He let out a cry as you slide on him on repeat, taking him to your deepest spot. He was like a wolf growling as his hands landed on your hips. Tangerine felt like he was an island surrounded by a deep blue sea as your body felt like waves, pushing and pulling against him.

At first, all this ballet was only there to help him release pressure after a mission and only he knew. But the truth is that every time you left him alone right after the blissful moment, his heart started to crack.

His train of thought stopped when your wetness leaves his body. You had enough of the riding session so you decided to go back to your knees, sucking him slow. The sweet feeling of your tongue swirling around his length makes his eyes shut and his head roll back as you give him too much pleasure his body couldn’t even handle.

You help him letting go of everything before starting to get up from the bed. Still half-conscious because of what you just did to him, Tangerine calls out your name, weakly. You turn around as you were already dressing up, raising an eyebrow as you question his sudden call. He sighs before clumsily sitting at the edge of the bed.

“Stay,” he asks, taking your hand in his and looking up at you. Your eyes landed on his hand on yours and then back at his face. “Please,” he adds when he saw the void in your eyes.

“It’s not how it works,” you say dryly, taking off your hand from his. You couldn’t handle any of this anymore. You couldn’t stay with him. This was never an option and tonight proves to you that you had to stop this toxic thing. You were gathering the last item of clothes on the floor when you hear his voice again.

“I love you.” 

You froze. Tangerine looks at you, his deep blue eyes hopeless, begging, lost. It was the first time you would see him like that and you suddenly feel something in your stomach. But this wasn’t the heat of a sparkle nor some hidden fire. You felt your gut and the acid taste in your mouth. You sure look confused because Tangerine talked to you again.

“I… I think I’m starting to crack, then you’ll leave and come back and I… I feel like a toyboy under you but if you want me like that, that’s who I’ll be.”

You couldn’t believe what he was saying. As you were trying to contain every feeling you had for him, every thought, you felt his body against you again, his soft voice whispering to your ear.

“If you love me right back, I could be anything.”

You sigh. Your mind was racing behind your eyes, and you would lie to yourself if you didn’t admit you loved the way he was holding you close right now.

But you couldn’t be with a stranger.

You couldn’t live with a man that looked that dangerous. Because even tho you didn’t know anything about him, the scars on his body couldn’t lie. This was the sign of a bright red flag. You weren’t sure if he was some kind of hunter or a very hot henchman but in any case, you couldn’t live this life. Love can be a powerful feeling but also a very dangerous one, maybe even more dangerous than the man that was hugging you tight.

You slowly detached yourself from him and turn around to look at him one last time. You couldn’t start something, already bored like you were this whole night. So your hands land on his cheek and you put a chaste kiss on his lips, his mustache tickling your upper lips. That kiss tasted like a bitter-sweet candy.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper with a broken smile before taking a step back. You reach for your bag and empress yourself to reach the door. “I would have loved you with all my heart if we weren’t who we are” you add without turning back before closing the door behind you.

Still naked, Tangerine fell on his bed, head in his hands. What did he do to have all of this so wrong? He thoughts you both were swaying on the same thin line. But now he realized he was wrong. Was he angry or simply heartbroken? He couldn’t figure it out yet but the thing he was sure about is that he couldn’t blame you for choosing the safest path, even tho it means he will never see you again.

#tangerine x you #tangerine x reader #tangerine bullet train #bullet train fanfic #aaron taylor johnson x reader #aaron taylor johnson #angst #tangerine angst #not a fix it #kinda lover to stranger #song fic

[boxofdice]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 人渣反派自救系统 - 墨香铜臭 | The Scum Villain's Self-Saving System - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Shen Jiu | Original Shen Qingqiu/Su Xiyan/Tianlang-jun Characters: Shen Jiu | Original Shen Qingqiu, Tianlang-jun, Sū Xīyán Additional Tags: Not Canon Compliant, Polyamory, Asexuality Spectrum, No Luò Bīnghé, Asexual Shen Jiu | Original Shen Qingqiu, Canonical Character Death, Trust Issues, Angst and Feels, Kissing, Secret Relationship, Original Su Xiyan and Tianlang jun Child(ren), POV Shěn Jiǔ | Original Shěn Qīngqiū, Shěn Jiǔ | Original Shěn Qīngqiū Has Self-Esteem Issues, Shěn Jiǔ | Original Shěn Qīngqiū Has Abandonment Issues, Implied/Referenced Death in Childbirth, Not A Fix-It Series: Part 3 of February Ficlet Challenge 2024 Summary:

Shen Jiu waited for them to leave or push him away. He didn't expect that their fragile balance would be destroyed by outside forces.

Or: Shen Jiu dares to fall in love and all he gets for it is heartbreak (and a motherless half demon baby).

For Day 15 TLJ x SXY x SJ, Out of time AND/OR Sports AU.

#shen jiu #tianlang jun #su xiyan #tianxijiu #not a fix it #oc child #fluffy until it gets sad #angst

[disastertriowriting]

Here's our fill for the square "interrupted declaration of love". ;)

In which the Force gives a certain Jedi Master what he said he wanted, to see if he really liked it. OWK series AU; definitely not a fix it

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #fanfiction #obi-wan kenobi #obi-wan kenobi series #owk series #obi-wan #darth vader #vader #anakin #anakin skywalker #tragedy #major character death #not a fix it #obi-wan is anakin's father #father-son #sad ending #interrupted declaration of love #obikinbingo23 #platonic obikin

[vampiremarz]

Split The Heavens

"We're closed" The Demon said flatly, pushing his glasses up so they would stay propped up on his forehead(that corner of the bookshop was way too dark to wear sunglasses, And read something) "I thought Muriel was running the Bookshop?" the customer said, their oh so familiar voice rang in Crowley's ears. His skin crawled, as he looked over his shoulder. "Aziraphale." he monotoned. "

or

Something wet and warm ran down the demon's cheek, it burned like holy water, but worse. it didn't kill him, but the burn wouldn't go away. He didn't know demon's could cry.

cross posted on ao3

The Demon had watched The Angel step into the elevator with a smile on his face. It broke his heart. He felt it slowly crack and shatter into a million pieces. his dark glasses covered his eyes welling up with tears. As music began to play on the radio as he turned the key in the Bentley, instantly he turned it off, not wanting to wallow in his emotions.  He slammed his foot down onto the gas pedal, going as fast as the Bentley would let him. oddly slow compared to their usual 90 in Central London. "oh for fucks sake" He groaned. His glasses had slipped down his nose so he pushed them up with his middle finger.

His plants seemed to wilt behind him like he could hear them crying for help. "stop your whining, I watered you last night" He said through his teeth. He shuffled through the stack of CDs and tapes stashed in the glove compartment, frustrated he slammed it shut, turning the radio on and switching a few channels.

His original plan was to go back to his flat, but now that Shax had returned to hell his "home" was his once again, instead of slowing down and parking the Bentley in his parking spot, the brakes seemed to falter, the steering wheel turned on its own and Crowley was on the road once again. "FOR FUCKS SAKE" He slams his fist down on the dashboard, and the radio sputters.

"Love of my life, can't you see?

(Please bring it back)

Bring it back, bring it back, don't

take it away from me

Because you don't know what it

means to me (means to me)"

Love of my life by Queen had started playing on the radio, or the Bentley's mind of its own had decided to force Crowley to face his own emotions, the emotions he had felt for the first time ever

"You will remember when this is blown over

And everything's all by the way

(ooh, yeah)"

The radio continues. Crowley took his hands off of the steering wheel, looking ahead of him at the road as the Bentley seemed to drive itself.

"When I grow older, I will be there at your side" He sang along to the song. "To remind you how I still love you- Dammit Angel" He cursed under his breath before removing his glasses. In 1974 they had seen Queen play that song live, together. Aziraphale had apparently traded one of his books to get them "VIP" tickets, whatever that meant. ( And coincidentally, Crowley got to meet the band) He saw them 8 more times before Queen's last album was released.

He vividly remembered how during the bridge of the song Aziraphale's hand had brushed up against his, of course, they were sitting next to each other, they had gone together. Not like it was a date or anything(it was)

Lost in his thoughts the next thing he knew he was back in front of the bookshop. A.Z. Fell and Co. the oh so familiar sign read.

the bells above the door rang as he stepped inside "Welcome!" Muriel shouted from behind a pile of books almost twice their size, poor thing had just discovered what books were and now they were practically swimming in the mess the demons had made the night before. "oh! it's you, the demon" They said, straightening their posture "The Metatron put you in charge of the shop?" He said through his teeth again, straightening his glasses. "yes! I'm very excited" They replied "If Aziraphale finds out you're actually selling them or you damaged them in any way, the new Supreme Archangel will have you punished I'm sure" His fingers brushed against the dust of a book, despite Aziraphale only leaving about a half an hour ago it seemed to take a toll on the bookshop. "oh… are you just trying to scare me? it won't work on me Mr. Crowley, I'm an angel and you're a demon"

"blah blah blah doesn't matter, I know the bookshop better than you"

Muriel sighed "I suppose you're right"

Crowley sighed. The bookshop felt so empty now. "I'll help you get situated, He liked things a certain way" He stepped towards the angel, and Muriel stepped back. "Relax, I'm not gonna hurt you or anything, despite demonic appearances"

Muriel picked up one of the books from the large stack, an older and relatively smaller one. One Aziraphale had carried around with him when he had first gotten his hands on it, back in 1957. "Now, are you gonna read that or put it back?"

"put it back"

"Angel always organized them by author first name and genre, I have no idea how he didn't blow a fuse when Gabriel-" he corrects himself "Jim started organizing them by the first letter of the first sentence" He scoffed "Are all of these "authors" humans?" Muriel asked, using air quotes. "uh, I suppose so? never really thought about that" Crowley shrugged his shoulders, picking up a book and reading the author's name to reshelve it "Mr. Crowley?" They asked again. "hu?" he looked up from the book. "Once you're done teaching me about books, can you teach me about humans?"

He raised an eyebrow "You what now?"

"teach me about humans!" They said with a smile "You and Mr. Aziraphale had been here for 6,000 years, right? surely you know more than I could learn from observing"

"well… you're right I do know more. I'll consider it. You start organizing the best you can. I'm gonna go get a pick me up, hopefully, something alcoholic and a chat with someone" he pushed his hair back and walked out of the bookshop. The truth was he didn't mind Muriel, they were too clueless for their own good but also curious. The questions they asked reminded him of himself before the fall. He wanted to be nice to them, but they reminded him too much of himself, and too much of Aziraphale at the same time. Halfway to Nina's he realized he didn't really want to talk about what happened, just needed to get away from the bookshop, it was an instinct to meet Aziraphale there. Crowley groaned. His next option was to go back to his flat, pick up the mail shax had left at his door. He sauntered over to the Bentley and turned the car on, of course a sappy love song that reminded him of Aziraphale was playing, he decided to drive in silence instead.

splash! suddenly the demon was soaked, He shot up, his head throbbing and the room spinning "Crowley, where's Aziraphale?" Maggie said, her hands on her hips. Nina was next to her, holding an empty coffee cup, she must've been the one to wake him up "It's been weeks since we've seen either of you, very very unusual "

"fuck both of you" The demon groaned, rolling to the other side of the couch he was comfortably lounged on "I assume it didn't go well?" Nina asked, picking up a few empty wine bottles "Jesus Crowley how much can you drink? Are you planning on drinking your life away?"

"I'm not drinking my life away, just drinking the next decade away, till Aziraphale comes back or , till it doesn't hurt anymore" he muttered, reaching for the half-drunk bottle of wine next to him. Nina quickly grabbed it before he could, causing Crowley to fall off of the comfortable couch. "I'll go find the other one" Maggie said, giving Nina a kind pat on the shoulder. Nina gave her a nod as she headed up the spiral staircase. "What happened?" Nina sat on the couch, the demon still on the floor. "He left," Crowley said, his face squished into the floor. "oh! I wasn't expecting that, you two were absolutely made for eachother"

"I doubt that" He rolled over onto his back, staring at the ceiling. "He went back to heaven, wanted me to join him again, but we went through this ages ago, we're not on heaven or hell's side. we're on our own, but he picked heaven over me" His voice faltered slightly. "Oh Crowley, that's horrible" He simply just shrugged in response.

"I'm glad you came back. Aziraphale wasn't just the bookshop owner he was the landlord too, someone has to run it who knows the ropes already" Crowley sighed, looked like he couldn't abandon the bookshop even if he wanted to.

Crowley sat up. He blindly fumbled for some sort of drink, and begrudgingly, Nina handed him the bottle of wine she had snatched up. "the Metatron, that old fuckin idiot placed Muriel in charge, I have nothing against them but they don't have a clue what's going on at all" Crowley talked with his hands, almost knocking the bottle against the coffee table and breaking it.

"the Metatron? what type of a stupid name is that?"

"He's an old guy, balding, and smells like moldy cheese, but I'm probably exaggerating. He was in here earlier and gave Angel a coffee. I think it was a latte thing with almond syrup"

"I remember him! he was the first customer in that morning and asked a weird question, he asked if anyone ever asked for death"

"do they?"

"no," She said plainly, almost side-eyeing him.

"Muriel said they saw you drunkenly praying last night. You're a demon, who were you praying to? Satan?" Maggie said, heading down the stairs.

"I was asking God to take care of Aziraphale" he muttered under his breath, Looking down and away so he could remove his glasses and wipe off the lenses, covered in lukewarm tea. Maggie sighed "Crowley…"

"Yes, stupid human I know. I know"

The empty coffee cup is tossed at his head "You've been camping out here for weeks, you gave your flat to Beelzebub and Jim and haven't even unpacked the boxes of your shit!" Maggie pointed towards the stack of boxes by the door labeled "Krowly" the handwriting absolute chicken scratch, obviously written by Beelzebub. "You got all this from Muriel?" Crowley raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, and your plants died," Maggie added. With a wave of his hands, the plants were luscious and green again "No they're not"

"you can't miracle everything to be better" Nina pulls over a chair and one for Maggie, sitting down in front of Crowley. "Muriel wants me to teach them about humans. Guess I'll be staying around longer than I wanted to, I'll run the bookshop I guess"

“Don't be a horrible influence on that poor kid”

“I won't, Aziraphale will probably come back in the next few days, he’ll realize how boring it is in heaven”

“What are you going to tell people if they ask where he is?”

“Probably in America or somewhere stupid” Crowley shrugged. "He'll come back"

"you're very nice for a demon, I know I don't have much of a reference to base it on but you're a really nice guy" Maggie said. "Look uh, I told Miss sandwich already, I'm not either. I'm not nice" he said through his teeth. "Have fun lying to yourself then" Nina said before Maggie could, like she could read her mind. "we should go, we have to open our shops, we'll be back after closing to make sure you're not drunk again"

The demon was nice, As much as he hated to admit it he wasn't evil, he was far from it. The last mean thing he ment and actually remembered saying was telling Jim- Gabriel to step out of the window and face plant onto the sidewalk of Soho London. As much as he hated Gabriel, he still regretted it.

The demon who lived in his car after he lost his flat, never thought to ask his angel for a place to stay, he thought it would make Aziraphale uncomfortable. The same demon who felt comfortable enough with said angel to show his eyes around him, the eyes he could have miracled into normal human eyes at any moment. The demon who would do anything to kiss Aziraphale again, despite how horrible the situation was or how painful of a memory it was, how much it hurt seeing the look on Aziraphale's face. He would still do it all over again.

His Bentley turned a familiar shade of yellow, shortly before malfunctioning and becoming undriveable. Crowley could've easily miracled it, fixed. After everything the car had been through with him, after 90 years of Aziraphale sitting in the passenger seat. He couldn't dare look at it again, his most prized possession was left in an empty lot, yellow instead of black. The Demon knew the Bentley reflected his own emotions.

Life without Aziraphale moved ever so slowly. Crowley was used to life moving slowly, he had been on slow-moving earth with slow-moving humans for six thousand years, but this was painfully slow. Time should've been flying by, but it wasn't. But from Inspector Constable turned bookseller's perspective, he seemed to be doing better than he was the day Aziraphale left.

Crowley sat lounged over the fancy chair pushed up against Aziraphale's old desk, shuffling through a box of records, the cardboard around the packaging edges fraying slightly "Muriel? What should we listen to together? Queen or?...." He held up an autographed version of A Day At The Races and started shuffling through the box again, looking for a second option. "the queen of what? Why are we listening to a queen?"

"What did you just say?" He gritted his teeth, spinning around in the chair and dropping the box onto the floor "I don't understand who's the queen?" They asked. Crowley simply strutted towards the record player "Muriel Muriel Muriel you are about to have your mind blown- sorry human expression" He corrected himself, avoiding a question. The record slid out of its sleeve and into his hand, very very cautiously placing the pristine record (despite being 47 years old and still in mint condition) onto the turntable.

As the first song started playing and he slumped back into his chair "Take a seat and enjoy the music little angel" He said, lifting the to-go coffee cup to his lips, "was six shots right? Nina knows your usual but I wanted to try and remember it"

He nodded, closing his eyes to enjoy the music "Do you-" They continued, being interrupted by Crowley's finger behind, held up to shush them "Listen to the music" Crowley said, side-eyeing them. "this one's called Tie Your Mother Down" Muriel sat down in their chair, a simple blue metal chair opposite next to Crowey's fancy deep red and gold throne-like chair. Crowley couldn't bring himself to sit in the chair that had been next to the desk before. It was Aziraphale's chair, not Crowley's. He had brought his chair from his flat, and stolen Muriel's from Nina's. Aziraphale's worn-down chair sat nicely in the corner as if he was sitting there with them. His gaze shifted towards the record player, then towards the chair as the songs switched.  "I can dim the li-" the record sings, quickly Crowley jumps to his feet, the needle quickly skipping "Why'd you do that?" They tilt their head to the side "I uh…. I just don't like the song" He responded. His demeanor had changed drastically. "Mr. Crowley, are you ok?" They asked. "I'm fine! just that's enough of this album for today, pick one from the box. I'm gonna organize the books' ' He stormed off to the other side of the bookshop. a nice old lady had come by to sell a box full of her husband's old books, he had to inventory them and shelve them, a boring task he had no idea how Aziraphale dealt with it. "I think I'll get a new one!" They stood up. Crowley shuffled through his pockets, he sauntered back over to them and placed about 15 pounds into their hand "Maggie will probably let you just take a record because she doesn't have to pay us- Aziraphale, rent anymore but pay her anyway"

"That's very nice of you for a demon" They respond, putting the pounds in their pocket. "Eh, not really, I just don't hate Humans. Gray zone, remember?"

"Mr. Crowley?"  Muriel asked, standing by the door. "Yeah little angel?" he responded

"I'm going to miss you when you go back to hell"

"You've got a day, just gotta tie up some more loose ends" Crowley shrugged his shoulders "you'll be fine without me, I've waited for Aziraphale long enough" Crowley fixed his glasses as a customer came through the door. "I'm still going to miss you" Muriel said with a smile "be careful, saying stuff like that is gonna get you pushed outta heaven" He whispered to them, patting them on the shoulder. "Go pick out a record kid," he sauntered back over to the books that needed to be shelved.

Muriel skipped their way over towards Maggie's record shop, the bells above the door rang and she turned her attention towards the door "Muriel! It's nice to see you" she smiled. "Mr. Crowley said I could get a new record" They smiled, walking over towards one of the shelves, sorting through the newer records, still in the plastic. Then towards the older ones till they found a pretty blue one. "Can you play this one for me? I wanna know what it sounds like" They handed her the record "Ohhhhh this is a nice one" Maggie smiled "Voulez - Vous by Abba, Aziraphale used to like this one he would always listen to it here while looking for other records but never bought it" She slipped the record onto the turntable and let it run. The first few songs grew a smile on Muriel's face. "I'll take it!" They said, taking the record from Maggie the second it was back in the casing. They drop the money given to them on the counter and skip back to the bookshop "Wait! Muriel the record was only 3£ not 15!" She shouted but they were already too far gone to hear her, she simply sighed and placed it in the cash register.

Crowley, now swimming in books, refused to turn around and greet the customer as the doors opened "We're closed"  He said flatly, pushing his glasses up so they would stay propped up on his forehead(that corner of the bookshop was way too dark to wear sunglasses, And read something)  "I thought Muriel was running the Bookshop?" the customer said, their oh so familiar voice rang in Crowley's ears. His skin crawled, as he looked over his shoulder. "Aziraphale." he monotoned. "I came to check on Muriel but I guess you ended up taking over"

" teachin' them, I'll be out of here soon enough" He stood up, dusting his clothes off. "Crowley… I-"  He took a step towards him,  his attention being stolen from Crowley to the wilting plants under the window. "Don't. you told me how you felt and made your priorities clear"

"Oh Crowley, don't be like that. I brought you coffee?" His brows furrowed, but he held the coffee cup full of espresso in front of him. "Muriel brought me one already, and of fucking course in going to be that way you chose your side" He put his glasses back on. "You look good, Are those new glasses?"  Aziraphale asked, most likely trying to make conversation "No" Crowley responded, Flatley. "same old glasses, same old me, different you" He picks up the box of books once more and moves to a different section of the bookshop. Aziraphale cautiously stepped towards his old desk, placing the cup of coffee next to the other cup Muriel had brought Crowley earlier.

Aziraphale wished the world would just stop, he could stop it but he doubted that it would get Crowley to talk to him. He wanted those damn glasses off and Crowley, he wanted Crowley.

"Crowley." Aziraphale reached forward to grab his wrist, but Crowley pulled away quickly.

too distracted to pay attention to the door Crowley missed Muriel coming back in, attempting to sneak past the two. He caught them in the corner of his eye, and despite being blocked by the edge of his glasses, he'd gotten used to it obviously. "what record did you get?" He turned his attention towards them "I'll show you after" they said, heading up the staircase.

"You seem to like them now" The angel fidgeted with his hands. "Well, it's been a year, Aziraphale. I know the time in heaven works differently but I hope you're doing well"

"I missed the bookshop" the Angel stepped towards the desk, eyeing the new chairs and his that had been moved "I missed the books, my records, I missed the weather. Heaven is awfully boring compared to Earth"

"take your records with you then" The demon muttered.

"you seem closer with them than you were with me" Aziraphale looked down "For Satan's fucking sake they're like my kid now it gets annoying sometimes. you- you were. Oh fuck off"

"Please, I want to apologize"

"Are you gonna do the dance again?" He laughed slightly, humoring himself. "Do you want me to?" he responded, tilting his head to the side. Crowley dropped the box, his hands were shoved in his front pockets and he turned to face his old friend "listen. I understand you coming to check on Muriel, you're both angels. But I'm a demon. I'm the enemy now" He pulled his glasses off, like an instinct to do in front of Aziraphale. realizing what he had done he quickly puts his hand over his eyes. "Crowley look at me…" He asked, so gently. Slowly Crowley moved his hand, revealing his eyes. The angel's face sank, instead of his favorite shade of yellow staring back at him, Crowley's eyes were a normal shade of brown, with normal human irises. "Crowley what? you?"

"don't like my eyes anymore" He put his glasses back on, sniffling he continued speaking "and I know I fucked up by kissing you-"

"Oh, Heaven Crowley I thought you were trying to tempt me!" Aziraphale interrupted. Crowey's posture stiffened "You think I would tempt you? I never have!? don't be an idiot Ang- Aziraphale '' He corrected himself "I would've never done anything to hurt you. and you assumed?"

"you're a demon! And I'm an angel, an Archangel! you could've been trying to tempt me into staying"

"I USED TO BE A FUCKING ARCHANGEL!" The demon snapped, practically shaking.

Aziraphale stepped back, not expecting Crowley to raise his voice at him, it had never happened before. "what?" he questioned. "Archangel Raphael, He asked too many questions and hung around the wrong crowd. then God punished him"

Aziraphale put his hand up to his mouth, his eyes widening "I asked too many questions" Crowley said, trying to compose himself "Crowley I'm so sorry I never knew-"

"I never wanted you to know"

Aziraphale stayed silent, the look of pity on his face made Crowley want to burst into flames.

"They wiped my memory, Everyone in heaven forgot Raphael eventually, of their own doing or I was wiped from their memory too. I only remember a handful of things. I know exactly how Gabriel was feeling. I can't have that same thing happening to you"

"It won't, I can change heaven. you can-"

"I should've been enough for you to want to stay, what happened to us? shades of gray remember? they tried to burn you alive Aziraphale!" He knocked a few books off the shelf, causing Aziraphale to back up. Quickly he bent back down to put them back on the shelf. "Crowley, I'm so so sorry. I really am" he reached down to place his hand on his shoulder "Did you really want me to be an angel with you?" Crowley had moved before Aziraphale could've touched him.

"Yes of course I did! I know you must've been happier as an angel, and we can be together in heaven. The last thing I want is to be away from you. You can still take my offer"

" You weren't there when we switched. You didn't see how your stupid angels treated you"

"I'm in charge now Crowley. they won't-"

Crowley interrupted him "They wiped Gabriel's mind because he didn't want another Armageddon. Threatened to wipe him from the Book of Life because he fell in love with Beelzebub. You- mmmhhh" he stopped himself "Do you understand what they'll do to you?"

"They won't do anything to me, because I'm in charge" the archangel stated. "Join me, please. Nina told me you accepted hell's offer, take mine instead."

"Fuck Heaven, fuck Michael, fuck Uriel, and all the other angels. fuck god and fuck you. As you said, Like it's always been Aziraphale,  I'm a demon, nothing ever gonna change that."

"It wasn't always that way, you were Raphael, you can be him again. It can change! Let me help you"

"YOU STUPID FUCKING ANGEL!" Despite it being almost a perfect day a strike of lightning came crashing down just outside the bookshop, singeing the concrete ground. "You can't help me! I am a demon. I enjoy being a demon." He said through gritted teeth, a deep growl coming from his throat. "I'm like a walking bomb of death and destruction. Just leave, please. I could kill anyone with a snap of my fingers, I could kill you"

Aziraphale stood back, those last words stung "Anthony J Crowley! I'm not leaving you, not again"

"For Satan's sake! why won't you understand?! I don't want to be a damn angel! I wasn't happy as one, all I did was get in trouble for asking honest questions! I- All I wanted was you. I was happy with you" He said, furrowing his brows "Angel I loved you" he wanted to kick himself for letting the term of endearment slip. Aziraphale's eyes softened "You what?"

"Forget it, I'm going upstairs. If you want to you can take some of your shit back to heaven" Crowley fixed his glasses, turning around to head upstairs the spiral staircase. Aziraphale quickly responded. "Loved?"

"Love doesn't matter, you chose to be enemies again" He looked down at Aziraphale's hands, dangerously close to his own "Do you still love me?"

Crowley sighed "It doesn't matter" he rolled his eyes, "humor me" Aziraphale sighed "Oh you think this is funny?"

"It's a human expression, you know this!" His voice got all high-pitched and whining, one of the mannerisms Crowley had thought was cute. Crowley's gaze traveled back toward Aziraphale's eyes.

Something wet and warm ran down the demon's cheek, it burned like holy water, but worse. it didn't kill him, but the burn wouldn't go away. He didn't know demon's could cry.

"Crowley-'' Aziraphale reached forward to wipe the tear off his cheek. "No. I don't love you anymore" his voice shook.

The angel’s hand drifted down to grab his wrist. The demon watched as his fingers trail down further, intertwining their fingers. He realized Aziraphale was also looking down at their hands, his fingers tightly gripping Crowley's limp hand.

The Demon exhaled, his breath faltering "Aziraphale…" The Angel looked back up at him, and suddenly his eyes widened. Crowley had been using a miracle this whole time to make him seem… alright. His comment about Crowley "looking good" now felt out of place and almost like an insult had spilled from his lips. His hair was longer and messy, he could smell the alcohol on his breath, and could practically sense the tired eyes behind his glasses. stubble shaped his face, making him look more disheveled. A single freckle sat above his lips, an angel kiss as some would call them.

Tired eyes was an understatement, Crowley couldn't sleep anymore. Some night were by choice, he didn't want to relive the horrors that were the nightmares that followed the day Aziraphale left, some nights he would lay awake contemplating different ways that morning could've gone.

Aziraphale understood why his plants were wilted now. "Crowley… you look…" he brushed his hand up his arm, against the soft fabric of his sweater. "yeah I know. Maggie and Nina tried to get me to put myself together again. Too hard when I feel so damn empty. so I miracled myself" The angel's hands came up to gently take the glasses off of the demon's face, and quickly Crowley squeezed his eyes shut, deep eye bags under his eyes confirmed the tired gaze Aziraphale suspected. "Don't do that again" He quickly grabbed his glasses back from the angel.

"But Crowley, I… we… Oh" He struggled to find the words "Was this why I couldn't find you? I checked on you through heaven but you had gone missing. You miracled yourself to seem human. Crowley, I'm so sorry."

"you can take your apology and shove it up your feathered ass"

"Crowley, my dear…"

"don't" He turned away from Aziraphale. "Fuck you, Angel, if you wanna talk to Muriel I'll tell them to come back down but I don't want to see you again. and don't look up my file, leave me alone" He pulled his hand from his grasp and continued up the spiral staircase. Aziraphale could hear the heartbreak in his voice.

Crowley stormed past the open door to Muriel's room, the record spinning on their turntable

"Look into his angel eyes, One look and You're hypnotized" the new record they had just bought sang. With a wave of his hand the record started spinning backwards "Listen to another one Muriel, I can't stand this song anymore" He said with a deep growl in his voice. "Mr. Crowley, are you okay? I wasn't expecting to see Aziraphale- Or the traitor" Muriel stood up, following him to his room. "it's fine, he's just coming to get some of his books to take back to heaven" He responded, opening the door to his bedroom, the room across the hall from the dusty and locked door that was Aziraphale's room. "Mr. Crowley" Muriel stood up straight, speaking louder than usual "I have a confession to make"

The demon raised an eyebrow before uncorking a bottle of wine in his room and leaning against the doorway. "As you probably know angels can sense Love" they stated "and last year before Mr. Aziraphale left, I might have sensed it between you two, very heavily. and I also might've accidentally been watching through the window when I felt that love was the strongest" They watched as an almost disappointed look grew on Crowley's face "I saw you kiss him and I could sense the heartbreak"

"Muriel…" Crowley sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"And I still sense that love and heartbreak in you, but it's even stronger in him I think he meant the apology"

"Even if he meant it… Aziraphale is too holier than thou to leave heaven again. And I'm going back to hell, there isn't time for an us anymore"

"You two were happy when you were still with heaven and hell before you left, right?"

"This is different now, he's an Archangel, and I'm going to be the new prince of hell, just like Gabriel and Beelzebub. We cant- shit" He looked down at the ground, adjusting his footing and bringing the bottle of wine up to his lips "fuck… I'm gonna regret this again" He shuffled past them, and back down the staircase. He was met with an empty bookshop, not an angel in sight. "FUCK!" He shouted, tossing the bottle to the ground, the glass shattering. Quickly he threw the doors open and scanned his surroundings, searching for that familiar face he longed for. "Aziraphale!?" He shouted, hoping it would get his attention if he hadn't already returned to heaven.

"Aziraphale! Where are you!" He stepped out from the awning over the doorway, the cold rain drenching him instantly. He turned left, towards Maggie's shop and raced through the sidewalk. "FOR SATAN'S SAKE WHERE ARE YOU!?" He sputtered, his voice being overpowered by the loud rain hitting the concrete sidewalk and the cars zooming by. Suddenly his attention was grasped by a man in a tan trench coat with a pristine white umbrella, across the street by Nina's. Dodging cars he sprinted over "Aziraphale!" He shouted, finally getting the Angel's attention. He turned around to face the demon "Crowley?" Very out of breath, he came to a screeching halt in front of him "Aziraphale…" He swallowed harshly "Oh you're soaked" He responded with a slight laugh "I love you" Crowley responded, his voice filled with emotion, not his typical rage, almost filled with urgency and affection. "I know I said I didn't, I'm a demon we lie"

"for a demon" Aziraphale breathed out "You've always been a terrible liar"

"I never wanted to lie to you, angel"

"I know, my dear I know"

"Don't go back to heaven, they can appoint Michael as supreme Archangel or some other idiot with a stick up their ass. please. I'm choosing you over hell. choose me over heaven this time"

A slight smile formed on his face. "I told you I wouldn't leave again" he hesitated when stepping towards him "I don't know why I told you I forgave you, I- I guess it's because I was scared and I thought you were tempting me, I knew you would never, Crowley you're the kindest demon ever. I wanted, I wanted to tell you I love you" He said quickly, all in one breath. Crowley let him catch his breath before he placed his hands on his cheeks, so gently, like he could make a mistake at any moment. Aziraphale reached forward, pinching the earpieces of his glasses and pulling them off his face "There you are, so pretty. I thought you had changed them for good" he said with a smile, placing Crowley's glasses in the pocket of his waistcoat. "Angel I-" The umbrella clattered to the ground as the angel leaned forward and his hand swept through the demon's hair. Crowley backed up, his hands on Aziraphale's shoulders, pulling him along with him under the awning. They looked into each other's eyes, longing for each other. slowly they pulled closer till their lips brushed against each other. A wave of relief washed over Crowley. His hands-on Aziraphale's shoulders glided down to his waist to pull him closer.

their lips parted slightly, just enough for Crowley to tell Aziraphale was smiling, probably the largest he had ever seen him smile. "This kiss was better than the last one," the Angel said, backing up more, reaching to grab the umbrella, now upside down and filled with water. "This kiss was reciprocated," Crowley muttered, his arms still around the angel's waist. "Oh don't be like that, dear" Aziraphale playfully punched his shoulder "We're both soaked now, back to your bookshop to dry off then dinner at the Ritz, Angel? it can be our first official date" Crowley asked. "our bookshop you mean? They can kick me out of heaven a second time. I'm staying" He leaned forward once again, their foreheads touching. Crowley placed a soft kiss onto his lips before stepping back and holding out his hand for his angel to take, and gladly he did. "I'm sorry, I really am," The angel said once more "I know angel, I'm expecting the dance sooner than later" The demon responded "Once I'm in dry clothes, my dear.  you're growing out your hair again, I love it" with his free hand he brushes a strand of hair soaked and stuck to his face behind his ear.  "ah oh I almost forgot" he took Crowley's glasses out of his pocket and placed them back onto his demon's face "thank you, Angel" He responded, absolutely smitten.

"Did I ever tell you who this song was based on?" Crowley said, swirling the wine left in his glass around, the two comfortably lounged on the floor in front of the fireplace, the record player going.

"Dining at the Ritz, we'll meet at nine

(One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine o'clock)

precisely. I will pay the bill, you taste the wine

Driving back in style, in my saloon,

will do quite nicely

Just take me back to yours, that will be fine"

Aziraphale shook his head, Busy sitting behind Crowley, braiding his longer hair.

"Come on and get it

Ooh, love (there he goes again)

Ooh, lover boy (he's my good

old-fashioned lover boy, ooh)"

"It's about you, Good- Old fashioned Lover Boy," Crowley said with a wink. Aziraphale leaned forward, his face pink with blushing "I'm trying to focus my dear I'm a bit out of practice" The elastic tying the braid together snapped as Aziraphale let go of Crowley's hair and smiled at his work, "done!" He smiled, leaning forward to set his head on Crowley's shoulder. "Angel I don't mean to kill the mood, but I need to know, why did you come back now? why not sooner?" Crowley turned around to face his angel.

Aziraphale was at a loss for words, not really, just didn't know how to explain "It's a long story, it can wait for another day"

"Angel, I'm not going to be mad at you I just need to know"

the angel sighed "They… the other angels, they weren't you. I couldn't see you from heaven and it honestly scared me, I was worried about you. I felt so alone there, a week in heaven and I was already ready to come back to the bookshop- to you, I came down to earth once, I saw you here, with Muriel, and Maggie and Nina"

"And you didn't say anything?"

"You looked happy. I didn't want to ruin anything for you"

"you know I used a miracle to disguise myself, angel"

"I know I know my dear but I didn't know that then. but, I returned to heaven and was sternly reprimanded for coming to earth, the other Archangels noticed I was acting differently, so when I returned to my office you were there"

"what? I've been here this entire time" Crowley questioned "I know I know, but I was- and you were an angel! you seemed just as happy as you were before the fall. You said that Metatron offered you the same position, but you wouldn't show me what it was it was very out of character of you "

"Angel, I love you but I'm not following anymore"

"They made a deal with hell and made a puppet of you!" Aziraphale whined, his voice all pitched. He covered his face with his hands, almost like he was embarrassed "I was so happy to see you- or the puppet that I kissed you. Heaven wasn't expecting that, they weren't expecting me to have feelings for a demon, because angels don't express emotions that way usually, and-and affection is a human thing. You looked like you, but I should've known something was off. You didn't call me angel anymore, your eyes weren't that beautiful, beautiful yellow anymore" The angel's thumb brushes against the demon's cheek. His eyes seemed to glow in the darkness of the bookshop.

Crowley rubbed his hand up and down Aziraphale's back, reassuringly "I didn't figure out it wasn't you till it was too late. I should've known"

"Too late for what?"

"We were in my office, I was doing paperwork, I was practically swimming in paperwork up there. I don't know how Gabriel dealt with it. I leaned in to kiss you and the puppet stopped me, and-" Aziraphale leaned forward, hiding his face from Crowley. "I can't even repeat what it said to me! it was horrible Crowley I ran away from heaven and came right back to the bookshop, when I saw you here I knew the you in heaven was just the other angels tormenting me"

"That's why you were so adamant about asking if I wanted to be an angel"

"I thought you were! but I don't even know if, if-"

"Angel, Angel calm down, it's ok. I'm me, I'm me" Crowley pushed Aziraphale's hands off his own face, replacing them with his own "Are you sure?" he responded, finding comfort in Crowley's touch "Yes angel, I'm sure, I've always known I'm me," he said with a chuckle "you wanna hear something that only I would know or something?"

"yes please"

Crowley sat up straight "The only thing I remember from before the fall, when I was still Raphael. God appointed me to design a section of the stars and set up the whole damn universe. I was almost done. All I had to do was crank up the engine and you showed up. You held the scroll for me while I turned the thingy. You introduced yourself, and I was too focused on my creation to tell you mine"

"oh my dear that was you?"

"didn't expect something that highly of me hu angel?" he said, almost teasingly "Believe me now? I'm me"

"Yes my dear, you're you" Aziraphale leaned forward to plant a kiss on his lips. Crowley brushed his hand up Aziraphale's back, leaning closer towards him. "Crowley?" Aziraphale said with a hum, leaning away from his demon. "mhh?" he responded, leaning in once more, craving more of Aziraphale. "Let's watch the stars together?"

Crowley's gaze softened, he smiled as the mention of stars left Aziraphale's lips "we'd have to miracle away the London smog?"

"Easy task, to the roof?" Aziraphale stood, holding his hand out for Crowley. "Angel, I'd like an apology first" he said with a mischievous smile.

Aziraphale took a breath and held up his right hand and swayed his right hip forward and in a sing-song voice said, “You were right.” A hop in place. “You were right.” A slow twirl followed. “I was wrong.” then a gracious bow. “You were right.”

"I was right about what" Crowley grinned, pulling his angel close by his hips "mhhh not sure " Aziraphale teasingly looked away "Angel" The demon said through gritted teeth "you were right about being us, I love you Crowley"

"to the roof, I want to see how my work has aged. I never had the heart to look on my own" Crowley planted a soft kiss on Aziraphale's cheek before taking his hand and guiding him up the stairs towards the roof. 

#good omens #azicrow #good morning im sad #not a fix it #buttttttttttt #azi's gotta do the apology dance again #crowley accidently adopted muriel #crowley #aziraphale #crowley and aziraphale #crowley used to be raphael #Spotify

[goldenmorningglory]

i have begun

#good omens #good omens s2 #not a fix it #but a post canon #i would never presume to fix something a genius like neil gaiman has written #im not worthy #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #ineffable partners

[fanfictasia]

Chapters: 1/20 Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Luke Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Luke Skywalker, Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Luke Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, CT-7567 | Rex & Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala & Luke Skywalker, Sheev Palpatine & Anakin Skywalker, Sheev Palpatine & Luke Skywalker Characters: Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Ahsoka Tano, Luke Skywalker, CT-7567 | Rex, Sheev Palpatine | Darth Sidious, Padmé Amidala Additional Tags: Time Travel, Not A Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Eventual Happy Ending, Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Protective Anakin Skywalker, Luke Skywalker Needs A Hug, Protective Luke Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker Friendship, Obi-Wan Kenobi is Anakin Skywalker's Parent, Anakin Skywalker and Ahsoka Tano Reunion, Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano Friendship, Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano Are Siblings, CT-7567 | Rex & Anakin Skywalker Friendship, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Minor Character Death, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst, Family, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Sheev Palpatine Being An Asshole, Manipulative Sheev Palpatine

Summary:

When Luke Skywalker is sent to the past, he ends up in the middle of the last skirmish before the Battle of Coruscant. He is fast running out of time to save his father from Falling to the Dark Side and becoming Darth Vader. But what if Anakin can't be saved? What if there is no way to avoid the downfall of the Republic and Jedi Order? What if Luke has to find another way?

Read on:

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14146213/1/Judgment-Day

https://www.wattpad.com/1275215343-judgment-day-chapter-1-the-past

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #fanfiction #luke time travel #anakin skywalker #anakin #luke skywalker #luke #anakin and luke #obi-wan kenobi #obi-wan #anakin and obi-wan #obi-wan and luke #not a fix it #fix it of sorts #family #friendship #time travel #eventual happy ending #angst #hurt/comfort #anakin angst #anakin needs a hug #obi-wan needs a hug #luke needs a hug #manipulative sidious #father-son

[how-to-hide-a-body]

Bittersweet Hellos

Kind of sad Steddie content, it’s after the Vecna stuff. It’s not fixed just a different type of broken.

There are some Ronance and Steddie moments also a main character is dead and some are injured.

Total Word Count: 2,090

It had been almost two and a half months since everything with Vecna went down. The town had gone back to its semi-normalness, most people pretended the earthquake hadn’t happened. Most destroyed homes had been rebuilt, but so many people moved out it wasn’t like it mattered much anyways. Eddie and Steve had been sitting in silence in Steve’s room for the past twenty minutes. Steve’s house was like a second home to Eddie, Robin, and Max. There were many nights that the four of them would crash in the otherwise empty house. And though he’d never admit it Steve enjoyed not spending his days alone.

Eddie sat on the floor, quietly plucking at his guitar strings. He suddenly stopped and looked up at Steve, who was sitting on his bed and staring out the window. “Hey Steve?” Eddie asked, “Could we cuddle, I’ve been feeling kind of down.” Steve turned to face Eddie and motioned for him to come closer. Eddie climbed into the bed and placed his head in Steve’s lap.

“Honestly, I haven’t been feeling the best either,” Steve admitted as he played with Eddie’s hair, “I just can’t stop thinking about everything. Vecna, the murders, fighting him in the upside down. We lost so many people, the earthquake wrecked so much, Max might never be able to walk or see again, she might not even wake up. And he’s-” Steve stopped playing with Eddie’s hair, one hand balled into a fist and the other tried to keep his pain from getting out. “He wasn’t supposed to- I should’ve” He couldn’t contain his sorrow anymore, his sobs escaped him and all Steve could mutter anymore was “I’m sorry” in between sobs. Eddie got up from Steve’s lap and pulled him into an embrace. Eddie placed Steve’s face into his neck and tried to provide him with some comfort by rubbing his back and stroking his hair.

"I know, it's been rough. I miss him too, sometimes it feels like he’s still here." Eddie got choked up and started to cry too, "But we have to acknowledge it, he's gone. Dustin sacrificed himself for everyone, he was the bravest and kindest person I’ll ever know. Through everything he never changed who he was, and he was fucking brilliant.”

“He was wasn’t he,” Steve gave a melancholy smile and wrapped his arms around Eddie. So the two just sat on Steve’s bed, holding one another and telling tales of Dustin Henderson with teary eyes and shaky breaths.

They sat like this for a while before Eddie pulled away, “As much as I would love to spend all day here with you, me and Henderson have a graduation to make,” Eddie smiled and started to leave before calling back, “See you for dinner with Mrs. Henderson,”

Steve wiped the remnants of tears from his face and replied, “Of course, but you’ve got to be out of your mind if you think I’d miss you flipping Principal Higgins the bird,” They both laughed as Eddie grabbed his jacket and left.

Eddie raced home and got his cap and gown on. Looking in the mirror Eddie grabbed two photos. One was of him and Dustin on Halloween, Dustin was the scarecrow and he had been the cowardly lion, Lucas had been the tin man. Lucas wasn’t in the photo though because he had been arguing with Erica, she wanted him to take her trick or treating. Mike refused to be in the picture after they had forced him to be the wizard, or rather the man behind the curtain. The other was one he had gotten from Nancy, she had gotten him a picture of Chrissy. Eddie had always loved the idea of being sucked into a fantasy world, going on some great adventure. Though now he had and it seemed so silly to want to do something that caused him so much pain. Eddie liked to think that if Chrissy had befriended him sooner, she could’ve been Dorothy to complete their costumes. But Eddie also wished Chrissy had never met him, maybe then she would have been able to walk the stage herself.

Eddie took off his cap and tucked both photos inside before placing it back on his head. “You and me Henderson,” Eddie whispered to himself before heading towards the school. As Eddie strutted through the front doors of Hawkins High he found himself gathered around with Robin and Nancy. “My sentence is finally up and it only took 1,080 days in this hell hole.” Eddie announced as he wrapped an arm around Nancy and Robin.

Nancy chuckled, “Oh we know Eddie,” They all started walking through the halls to meet the other graduates.

“Yeah, I mean you’ve only told us about 1,080 times” Robin stated with a smile.

Eddie staggered back with his hands on his heart and gasped, “Oh how you wound me!” Robin and Nancy laughed and Steve snuck up behind Eddie.

“Why do you guys always have fun without me?” Steve groaned.

“Because we can’t have any while you’re here,” Robin joked, rolling her eyes. The four of them walked out to the gymnasium. Steve found a seat in the bleachers while the graduates found themselves in the uncomfortable folding chairs arranged in rows before the small stage. Eddie rushed to his seat but Nancy and Robin stood in the aisle. Robin looked into Nancy’s eyes and Nancy grabbed her hand. The two smiled at each other, “Ready to do this?” Robin asked.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Nancy answered, squeezing Robin’s hand, “I’ll see you in a bit,”

“See you,” Robin gave Nancy’s hand a squeeze of her own before they parted ways and found their separate seats. From their seats they couldn’t help but steal glances at the other.

All the talks for graduation were terribly boring but Robin, Eddie, and Steve listened intently to Nancy’s valedictorian speech. It was beautiful as was everything Nancy does, Robin couldn’t help but stare. Her girlfriend was always the brightest star in the galaxy and she deserved recognition for it. Finally, it was time for diplomas to be handed out. Eddie waited more patiently than he ever had in his life, basking in every moment before it was time. 

He strutted up to the stage and snatched his diploma from Principal Higgins. Eddie locked eyes with him and flipped the bird before resuming his strut off stage. The principal stood in shock with his hand still outstretched, waiting for a handshake he would never receive.

The rest of the graduation went on normally and it came time to toss their caps. The grads all went outside, Robin, Nancy, Steve, and Eddie all stood together. Robin and Nancy joined hands and tossed their caps, under the cover of all the green caps they shared a quick kiss before disguising their affection in a hug.

Eddie didn’t toss his cap with the rest, no, he just stared at the cap in his hands for a while. Steve stood next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, “Ed, I think it’s time,” he cooed.

“I know,” Eddie smiled. He looked up towards the sky and tossed the cap, mumbling to himself, “It’s our year, ‘86 baby.” Eddie turned to Steve and gave him a hug. “They grow up so fast,” Eddie started to tear up, “I miss ‘em already”

“Me too Eddie, me too.” Steve said.

Robin and Nancy joined Eddie and Steve, Nancy asked “Ready to go see Mrs. Henderson?”

“Yeah,” Steve replied.

The four of them made their way to the Henderson house. They were greeted by Mrs. Henderson. “Hi Mrs. Henderson, it’s great to see you.” Nancy offered with a smile.

“Oh please, call me Claudia. Come on in, Mike and Will are already inside.” Claudia said. She looked as if she had been crying earlier that day, but now she looked like that just about every day she visited his grave. 

“That’s great. I don’t know if they told you but Lucas isn’t coming,” Nancy stated, “He won’t leave Max’s side, we’ve had to take turns bringing him meals.”

“I understand, he has a connection with that girl. Young love sure is beautiful.” Claudia mused, “Well, I’ve got plenty of food so maybe the boys can bring some over to him after, they’ve probably finished setting the table by now.” Dinner wasn’t terribly awkward, it was filled with sorrow but laughter too. They reminisced about the time they had spent with Dustin, his snarky remarks, and brilliant ideas. They talked about Dustin like he was in the other room, just out of reach. Once they finished eating, Nancy sent Mike and Will with some leftovers to bring for Lucas and El, both refusing to leave Max alone for a second.

The four graduates stayed behind to help clean up. Steve was standing with Claudia, “I’m sorry. Mrs. Henderson, I’m so sorry. I-” Steve started to cry, “I was supposed to protect him, and I didn’t. He’s gone because of me, if I’d been a little more careful. If I had kept him a little closer he’d be eating dinner with us tonight.”

Claudia wrapped Steve in a tight embrace, tears streaming down her own face, doing her best to comfort him. “It wasn’t your fault, no one could’ve predicted the earthquake. There wasn’t anything anyone could have done.” But Steve knew that an earthquake wasn’t what had killed Dustin. He had. When he left Dustin he signed his death certificate. He wondered if she would hate him if she knew the truth, that he had killed her son. Eddie, Robin, and Nancy came back into the room, Claudia and Steve pulled away from each other. “I understand that you are all planning to visit Dusty. His room is still untouched so you can take a look around for anything you might want to bring with you.” Claudia said.

“Thank you so much Mrs. Henderson,” Robin said.

“I’m going to take a quick peak, you guys can head out to the car, I’ll meet you there.” Eddie smiled before walking to Mrs. Henderson, “Thank you for everything.” Eddie walked off to Dustin’s room. As he crossed the threshold he realized that was the second time he had ever been in Dustin’s room. Suzie-poo still had his thinking cap, so Eddie grabbed his Camp Know Where cap and his walkie before meeting everyone else in the car.

When they arrived at the cemetery they all had items to bring him. One by one they all placed the things they had brought on his grave. Robin put down his walkie-talkie and her scoops ahoy hat, Steve left behind his Camp Know Where hat and a small can of Farrah Fawcet spray. Nancy placed down a laminated paper snowflake and a picture of her and Dustin dancing at the Snow Ball. “Don’t worry Dustin, you’re still my favorite, and the best Snow Ball dance partner I’ve ever had.” Nancy whispered, wiping a tear from her cheek. Robin walked up behind Nancy and put an arm around her, she curled into Robin’s arms and they started to walk back to the car.

Steve stood by Eddie’s side as he sat down in front of the grave. Eddie placed a folded up Hellfire club shirt and a small case on the grave. Inside the case was the d20 Erica used to deal the final blow to Vecna, and Eddie’s own pick necklace. He placed a hand on Dustin’s name and stated, “Hey Henderson. I brought you some things, you should have a reminder that you were always fucking metal. I miss you man.” Eddie took a shuddering breath. His fingers traced the cool stone indents of the letters and numbers Dustin’s life had been reduced to. Eddie never forgot the feeling of fighting beside him. Back to back, feeling on top of the world, winning, and then suddenly everything went wrong. Dustin was lying there on the ground, bleeding out and more and more bats swooped down. There was too many, so Eddie did the only thing he could. He ran. He had tried to drag Dustin with him but wasn’t strong enough to still be fast. The most he could manage was luring them away from his body. It wasn’t enough though, when they went back to find him, there was nothing left but flesh and bone.

“There was no shame in running, I shouldn’t have let you convince me to stay. I should’ve hauled ass and got you through that gate, I could’ve held down the fort on my own. It should’ve been me.” Eddie’s whispers got louder as he started to sob, “It should never have been you, I’m sorry Dustin. I should’ve taken better care of my flock.”

Steve dropped down to the ground next to Eddie and just held him. “It’s not your fault Eddie, To paraphrase the words of a wise man, don’t bullshit me.” The two sat there for a long time, letting their eyes run dry. Neither said anything or moved, until Eddie turned to Steve and planted a kiss on his forehead.

“I love you Steve Harrington, thank you for sticking by my side.” Eddie whispered into Steve’s infamous hair.

“I love you too Eddie Munson.” Steve replied.

“I can hear the little man saying ew right now,” Eddie laughed, the two got up and held hands, staring at each other.

“We should get going, Nance and Robin are probably waiting for us.” Steve said, he and Eddie walked down the hill to the car, hand in hand.

Thanks for reading! :)

Hi mutuals, I’m dragging you here because I’m evil >:)

@morbid-longing-picturesque @eatmyshortspurr @ur-favorite-almighty-entity

Thanks mutuals for proof reading and giving me good title ideas :)

#steddie #ronance #main character is dead #hurt/comfort #not a fix it #sweet moments #some heartache #what if #dustin henderson #died

[mandalorianbrainweasel]

Approximately 16k.

brought me through this darkness, left me here behind

Walon Vau ends up on Mandalore after his exile from his home planet as a teenager, not expecting much besides a good education. Instead, he finds a culture, a family, a career... But of course, there is no such thing as fairy tales, and there is no such thing as happily ever after.

Major Character Death, canon compliant, canonical character death, implied/referenced child abuse, slow romance, age difference, fairy tales and folklore, found family, Force sensitive Jango Fett, Force sensitive Jaster Mereel, background Spar, trauma recovery, trauma relapse, panic attacks, bad coping mechanisms, grief and mourning, parenthood, Mandalorian Culture, References to Korda VI and Galidraan, canon detour, tragedy, not a fix-it.

Jango & Jaster & Walon, Jango & Walon, Jango & Jaster. Jaster Mereel/Walon Vau

#my fanfiction #bmttdlmhb #jaster/walon #jaster mereel #walon vau #jaster mereel/walon vau #young Jango Fett #not a fix it #do you ever just feel like making canon worse?

[alicetallula]

Reddie - Alternate Death Scene - 07.05.2021

TW : Blood and Death

So here is my new hyperfixation of the moment : Reddie I had this idea of an angsty piece. What if both of them were killed by Pennywise's claw?!

Done using ink pens, watercolors, acrylic paint pens and colored pencils

AO3 post / DeviantArt post / Instagram post / Patreon post / Twitter sfw post / Twitter nsfw post

#it 2019 #it chapter 2 #reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #alternate death scene #blood #major character death #major character injury #not a fix it #it chapter two #fanart #tallula03's art

[thisbluespirit]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Doctor Who (2005), Sapphire and Steel Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Major Character Death Characters: Clara Oswin Oswald, Copper (S&S) Additional Tags: Community: no_true_pair, Community: hc_bingo, Crossover, Angst, Time Travel, Not A Fix-It, Canonical Character Death, Episode: s09e10 Face the Raven, Post-Episode: s09e12 Hell Bent, Episode: s07e14 The Name of the Doctor Summary:

Clara writes a letter to a man who may not exist. He answers anyway.

#fanfic #doctor who #sapphire and steel #clara oswald #copper #crossover #gen #angst #canonical character death #not a fix it #no_true_pair #hc_bingo #for day 9 prompt clara writes a letter to copper #i'm sorry #but clearly if an element met clara #they would have to eliminite at least some of her because elements are like that

[rhymeswithcabbage]

Words: 2964

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Marvel Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Major Character Death Relationships: Pepper Potts/Tony Stark Summary:

Tony Stark died to save the world.

Grief, through eight pairs of eyes.

Characters: Bruce Banner, Clint Barton, Steve Rogers, Stephen Strange, James "Bucky" Barnes, Peter Parker, James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Pepper Potts

Additional Tags: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Grief/Mourning, This is my first time writing angst please be kind, Avengers: Endgame (Movie)

#tony stark #tw: character death #canonical character death #grief #mourning #pepper potts #bruce banner #clint barton #steve rogers #stephen strange #bucky barnes #peter parker #james rhodes #angst #endgame #avengers endgame #not a fix it #this is my first time writing angst #please be kind