Heavy Angst - Tumblr Posts

AGAIN?! CAN'T YOU JUST LEAVE HIM ALONE?!

(1:14) NO...nononono!!! LEAVE HIM ALONE!!! DON'T TOUCH HIM!

(1:28) *scared* MOON!!

(2:18) !!!!....Moon is resisting. HE'S RESISTING!!!

(3:17) Me too, Sun, me too...

(4:09) I wonder that too...

(6:27) NONONO NONO. MOON!!!

(6:53) WHAT?!?! NOO!!!

(6:59) *terrified* MOONNN!!!!

(7:05) OH THANK GOD MONTY AND SOLAR!!

(7:34) OH GOD, MOON?!? ARE YOU OK?!?? CAN YOU STAND?!? CAN YOU BREATH?!?

(8:15) MOON? MOON?!?! HEY?!? OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD!!

(8:40) *terrified* (THIS IS HORRIBLE TO WATCH)

(8:59) .................Jonathan......?? (The only kid who wasn't scared of him..??....and the first of Moon's victims....??)

*traumatised*

....

My god.....Moon....he was messed up BADLY. WHAT THE F*CK DID NEXUS DO TO HIM?!?!

God....I hope they fix him and that he will be OK....

....

When Sun hears about this, he's going to beat sh*t out of Nexus when he sees the emo freak.

Oh Moon....

(0:33) ....yeah, don't worry don't worry! He's gonna be fine, Sunny...

(1:05) Sun: *worried brother: on*

(2:18) ....................Jonathan.......

(4:12) Oh god.....that must have been terrible......

(5:28) ...It breaks me so much seeing and hearing him like this💔

(5:31) no nono, Moon..! Oh baby...

(6:09-6:53) Yeah, good talk Solar!

(8:22) .................what......?

(8:22-10:09) ....what? WHAT? No! Nonono! Y-you can't give up like..! No wait..! .....Moon...you can't leave Sun like this.....

(11:50) .....that's horrible to feel....

(13:35) Yeah, It's OK to collapse every now and then, it's normal for all the things you went trow.

(14:12) oh Moony..💔

......

*crying a bit*.....

Oh Moon.....

U-umh....OK, I'm not good with this stuff but I'll try.

Listen, all those kids back then, none of their death was your fault; you were controlled by a thing that was a horrible murderous creature(before regretting all the things he(KC) did), so that wasn't you, it wasn't your fault.

You want it to be that way? Ok, you can blame yourself all you want, but what happened it's in the past and you now are trying to be a better person, h*ck, you are even becoming better then Nexus when he was good probably, but you can't just keep being attached to the past; it's gonna consume you until the end.

So, pls, try not to think about those kids anymore, I repeat, they weren't your fault, it just- happened.

It's all in the past, and that rage you felt before? It's normal that you feel it when someone insults someone you love and care about, everyone would feel that rage; so it's OK to feel it and no matter what, Sun, Solar, Monty, everyone would be there to be with you, to reasons with you if you get near do something like that ever again.

It's OK, you have family that loves you with all their hearts, so you don't have to worry or be scared about that.

So now, stand up and don't give up, they need you. Sun need you, your lovely twin need you and you are gonna be there for him and that goes the same way around!

And remember, he will always care, love you, no matter what and he will be there whenever you need; he your twin, your other half, he knows you better then anybody, he will know what to do to make you feel better.❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

Nexus. If you touch a tiny part of Sun *points at him a shotgun* me and you have a BIG problem ^v^*.

(0:27) EVEN HE SAYS THAT!

(0:53) DON'T TALK ABOUT THEM LIKE THAT!

(1:27) w-what? WHAT?! HE DIDN'T USE YOU. WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!

(1:45) Oh god OH MY GOD. SUN PLS RUN SOMEWHERE, THAT MAD BOT IS GOING AFTER YOU!!

(2:14) SUN. RUN. AWAY. AS FAST AS POSSIBLE. RUN AWAY!!!!

(2:23) F*CK F*CK F*CK F*CK F*CK, SUN RUN!!!

(4:15) HEY! 😡😡😡

(4:57) NO HE'S NOT!!! HE WILL NEVER HELP YOU!!😡

(5:15) !!!!! SEE!!! HE'S CAN TAKE IT MORE THEN THE OTHERS!!!!

(5:38) NO..NONONONONONONONO C'MON SUN!! YOU CAN BEAT HIM!! DON'T GIVE UP!!!

(6:46) OH THANK GOD, MONTY!! YOU'RE HERE!!!!

(7:36) NOT SO EASY HUH?!

(7:40) !!!.......oh Sunny....you really can't let go of Nexus.....you still care deep down uh..?

(8:50)Okokokok, See Moon? He's fine..!

(9:53) !! So you now got weapons to defend yourself with!!! That's great!!

(11:46) Thank you Monty, you're the best!!

(12:23) I love when he worries like this❤

(13:30) YEAH, THAT'S GOOD.

(13:57) Solar and Lunar: *worried brothers: on*

(16:15) Pls- don't say that-

1. I'm gonna go after Nexus real quick, let me just- *goes to Nexus, punch him multiple times, returns* ok I did what I needed, but that won't be the last time. I SWEAR.

2. I'm so glad they got weapons that are able to hurt someone that has Star power.

Now they can protect Sun and each other better then before!!! And maybe defeat Nexus and $un(with whatever he's doing with the dragon-).

3. Monty is real good friend to both Sun and Moon❤

Well, It's trauma, so yeah-

(0:55) They're depressed and they can't do anything about it!

(1:27) UHHH- Moon's almost died again and Sun got almost kidnapped again.

(3:00) and that was what a good friend would do, good job Monty!

(4:42) Oh god....that must have felt horrible...

(5:25) oh Moony...

(7:46) ....It breaks me so much seeing and hearing them like this...💔

(9:40) Sun sounds so broken and tired too...💔

(10:36) And you're not the only one that has it....

(11:21) Moon, you can't control that type of stuff, it doesn't matter how smart you are, there will be always someone smarter than you, but it doesn't mean you should give up; you can always try and it doesn't matter if you fall, because you will always get up and try again if you really want and there will be people who will help, no matter what like your family!

(14:57) Yeah, I suggest that too..!!

(16:40) See? Talking about your problems works! It makes you feel a little betterat least!

(16:58) !!!!.....Moon...never called Sun that before(as we know at least) ...."Sunlight"...it is a cute nickname..!!!

(17:39) Yeah, it is...much more than anyone can think of...

(17:58) Yeah, it is normal I think, but you should really stop that, because you're hurting yourself, ok? Sun knows that feeling too much well and he also told you to stop, so pls stop ok..?

(19:23) It's normal, don't worry..

(21:10) Ptf- Lunar always knows how to light up the mood❤

(25:45) PTF- Oh god-🤭

Earth and Sun are really good siblings to Moon!❤

(I also think that Moon got the fidgeting-with-hands thing from Sun, because he was and is always the one who do this type of stuff when he's stressed or uncomfortable).

No upside down au but things aren't magically okay

TW! Parental abuse, neglect & abandonment, Racism (Billy Hargrove is a piece of shit) Alcoholism, bullying and sexual harassment

Things aren't just happy and great because the Upside Down doesn't exist, and I want to write about it, so this is my take and my AU.

Will, Jonathan and Joyce are still in poverty, on the brink of nothingness, and it doesn't help that Lonnie is a piece of shit, who still has occasional custody of the boys. Every other weekend, Joyce is alone in her little house, while the boys are with their father, because the three of them are too afraid to speak up.

Mike and Nancy don't get along, plain and simple. It's not because they're siblings and because "siblings fight" but because they're in a broken home. Karen is out some nights seeing her "lover" and Ted is just the worst. He yells at the kids, shames Nancy, belittles her to the point that she leaves Mike alone. He hates her because she can leave, which is why he begs for a bike, or to spend the night somewhere, anywhere but home.

Dustin is the kid of a single mother, who is overbearing on him. She's an anxious woman who fears Dustin's gonna get hurt. He gets bullied at school, and not just insulting words. He gets shoved, his d&d dice, books, hats, and other things get stolen, and sometimes he comes home with bruises from the older kids.

Lucas has it fine at home, but once he leaves it's no longer anything happy. He's afraid to spend time with his friends because of Billy and all of the other assholes. He constantly gets harassed because of his skin, the way he talks, the way he looks, and it gets even worse when he starts talking to Max. His parents worry that one day, he won't come home.

Max couldn't hate life more. She's always angry, and it's all her moms fault. Her mom decided that Neil Hargrove was a good man, but it led to a life of absolute fucking pain. Billy was angry with her, for what - she didn't know. Neil was a drunk, he'd drink and drink for hours, using bottles as weapons against everyone else in the house. She saw the same hatred in Mike Wheeler, which caused her to lash out at him, but she knew it wasn't his fault, it was their parents.

Jane's mom couldn't properly care for her, something about a neurological disease that would get worse as the years passed. So she was given up to a foster home. Poor Jane was young, ad could hardly speak, let alone know her own name, so the man, Brenner, didn't care to know names. Jane, now Eleven, didn't know how she got there, or why, but she grew up believing her mother hated her, until she ran away after the oldest kid there snapped.

Steve never knew what his parents were like. They were always away. They'd bring back snow globes from every state airport in the country, but that's all he knew about them. He started to act out so he could possibly get their attention. He stopped once he finally saw something he hadn't noticed before. Jonathan wasn't flinching when he hit. He was just as bad as any old abuser. He tried to turn himself around, he really did. He had to change, especially after seeing Dustin, Lucas and Mike being thrown around by Billy.

Robin knew she never had it easy. She grew up in the trailer parks after her mom and dad lost their jobs ad had to find somewhere else. Her parents jumped between jobs for a long time, and once Robin was old enough, they gave her an old hand me down bike and set her on her way. She knew life was even harder after she discovered her undeniable crush on Tammy Thompson. She would be a town pariah if anyone found out.

Nancy on the other hand, was a town pariah. Her home was the least of her problems. She was humiliated by a man, by several men. Steve Harrington and Tommy Hagan calling her a slut, her own father accusing her of being a whore, and her employers objectifying her at every chance they could get. Nancy felt just like an object for the pleasure of men, so she started learning to defend herself, wanting to be her own woman, but too afraid to deep down.

Jonathan always pushed back how he felt for his mom and brother. Joyce was a struggling woman, and Will was so young, he didn't want his brother to feel like the world was so cold and dark, so he took more hits for the both of them. He took hits from Steve and Tommy, he wanted to keep everyone else safe so he took hits.

Things aren't happy in Hawkins, but we can certainly pretend.

Y’all know that inexplainable feeling where you cant describe how amazed/excited you are? Like you can’t put it into words?

That’s how I feel, this is AMAZING. I- AGSVAYVSJDBSMS

"Don't you think you've done enough?"

Wakko was angry.

Very, very angry.

He thought Dot was on his side- but she was easily swayed by that dumb doctor.

Ooh, that doctor made his blood boil. He suggested talking to Yakko, but that wasn't going to work because he was hypnotized by Max. Scratchnsniff didn't understand- he couldn't possibly understand what it was like to watch a brother who swore he'd die for you just... abandon you out of nowhere.

He thought his mother would understand too, but it seemed she was fooled too, wanting him to give Max a shot. Yeah right- would she suggest he "just give Grandma a shot?". No. It was clear she was underestimating Max's control of Yakko. He wasn't just "a little carried away". He was hypnotized- he had to be.

If he wasn't, then...

If Dot and his mom wanted to give up on him, fine. He could save Yakko all on his own. He had the brains. He'd just have to go a little bit further this time- to make sure Max would never want to come back ever again. He had to make sure Max knew he wasn't welcome and do it in a sneakier way so he wouldn't get caught this time.

Wakko was going to lock Max in the tower.

And he knew just how he'd do it.

He had already stolen the key, though his paranoia made him check to see if the door had been blocked up constantly. however- he even took a step beyond, making sure a key similar enough replaced it, to assure no one would notice it was gone.

As far as getting Max there, he knew he wasn't strong enough or tall enough to drag or force him to the tower, so he'd have to make him want go up there himself. Going off of his mom's "advice", he figured he'd just say that he wanted to talk with him alone in a letter or note or something, which was easy enough. The hard part would be getting it to Max without being seen. He didn't have time to send it in the mail, as he was visiting the very next day.

So that meant he'd just have to wait for an opportune moment when the day arrived.

Which he did.

He ate breakfast just with Dot, apparently, his parents and Yakko had gotten up earlier and were busy this morning- which he was fine with. He wasn't exactly feeling chatty, though Dot kept giving him looks which he ignored.

If she knew anything, she didn't say, so Wakko moved on with his day.

When Max arrived at Warnerstock castle, it went much like it did the first time: with Max only giving them side glances but otherwise ignoring their existences and running off with Yakko. What made it different though was Dot going with their parents and goofy, leaving Wakko by himself to enact his plan.

Normally he would've felt offended at such an exclusion but he needed to enact his plan somehow, and he had already set up a room with art supplies to help distract him while he waited for them to break for lunch before he could plant his note.

Thankfully, the hours passed rather quickly, and Wakko was able to make his move. Hurriedly, he ran into the room Yakko and Max always hung out in and placed the note carefully in Max's satchel (he always brought one to bring gifts for Yakko from Disneyland or something like that according to the letters) before running with all his might to the tower, unlocking the first door and climbing up the fifty feet to the top, unlocking that heavy iron door, and slowly and painfully pulling it open and hiding behind, hoping Max wouldn't be suspicious of it being open when he arrived.

Unlike before though, it was a very, very long time before he heard Max at the bottom of the tower. With each step Max took, Wakko's heart raced more and more as he gripped the key in his hands tighter.

He had to do this. He had to make Max hate him- hate all of them. He had to make Max know he wasn't welcome- that he couldn't get away with separating his siblings.

Max was a bad person. He deserved this.

By the time Max reached the top, Wakko's heart was racing, and he kept a hand over his mouth to make sure his breath was silent. He made sure Max was deep into the dark and dusty room before Wakko pushed the heavy door shut with all his might, scrambling to lock it and scurrying down the stairs as fast as he could- ignoring Max's shouts and questions as he pounded against the iron door.

Max was a bad person. He was trying to take Yakko away from him.

As he scrambled down, his mind was flooded with memories.

Dot's cries, the ache in his ears, the horror as he looked down, the banging of his head against the floor, the slamming of the iron door, the hopelessness-

Max was a bad person. He deserved this.

Wakko ran faster, closing his eyes best he could in a poor attempt to suppress the memories. He almost kissed the ground when he reached the bottom, but he didn't waste his time, running out and locking the door as fast as possible before running all the way to his room and laying down in his bed and burying his head under his pillow in hopes his breathing and heart would calm eventually.

However, his head throbbed as the memories he was trying so desperately to swallow surfaced once more.

"Let go of him!" Dot had shouted, pulling on Angelina's dress- and before Wakko knew it, his grandmother's grip was tight around his neck as he felt himself dangling off the ledge. He shouldn't have looked down, but he did.

Dear god- he was going to die.

"Shout at me again young lady, and I will," Angelina threatened, her grip around his neck tightening.

"Wait- please! Don't hurt him-!" Dot got on her knees and begged, tears streaming down her face as she made eye contact with him.

Dear god he wished he was a lot braver.

"Go back downstairs, Angelina. You've done enough today," Angelina spat on Dot's face. It filled Wakko with rage, but he couldn't fight back. He saw Dot's look of defeat as she lowered her head.

"Good girl," That bitch of a grandmother said, and Wakko felt a return to the ground. He immediately went to go hug Dot, but she grabbed his arm and forced him away from his sobbing little sister before tossing him in that disgusting and dark prison.

"How long do you plan to leave me in here, huh?!" He had shouted, his voice betraying him and cracking as tears filled his eyes. He pounded against the door demanding a response, but the only response he got was mumbles from his grandmother, and a yelp of pain from Dot.

He continued to pound his fists against the door with everything he had in him for hours on end. He had to make her suffer- she couldn't get away with this. She couldn't just hurt his siblings like that- she needed to pay.

By the end his hands were bruised and bloody and his voice practically vanished due to the shouting. Eventually- he just gave up, hugging his knees as he begged for this nightmare to end, somehow.

Angelina the First was a fucking monster.

...was Max really the same?

O-of course he was. He was taking Yakko away from him- from him AND Dot. Angelina did that too. She knew they were weaker seperated and always divided them, and Max knows the same.

Sure Angelina never made Yakko happy ever... but that meant Max was just more of a threat, right? His techniques were new- Yakko didn't know how to protect himself against them. Wakko was just doing what he had to to protect his sibs.

Wakko was doing what he had to.

Time passed- a lot of it. Eventually someone came into his room, and Wakko buried himself under his blanket, clutching the key as tight as he could, hoping they'd just assume he was asleep.

"Wak, have you seen-? Oh-" It was Yakko, embarrassed that he "interrupted Wakko's nap".

"Sorry- I'll just-... have a nice nap," Yakko apologized and left.

See? His plan was already working.

...Right?

God, would the pounding in his chest ever stop???

He was just doing what he had to.

Just what he had to.

.o0o.

More time passed, though Wakko couldn't be sure how much. All he knew was that Yakko had begun to worry, seriously searching through every room in the castle (as Wakko could hear from the door slams). He didn't check on Wakko again, but there were a few close calls. Eventually, Yakko must've employed his parents help though, as he soon started hearing them begin to search too.

It dawned on Wakko that perhaps he should've forged a note from Max that said he ran away or something- that would've prevented the searches and made Yakko hate Max too.

Oh well- hindsight and all that.

The pounding in his chest never stopped.

Eventually, he heard his door creak open slowly as he quickly tried to pretend he was still sleeping, but Dot wasn't easily fooled, as she climbed onto his bed and shook his shoulder, pulling back the blanket.

"Max is missing and mom told me to get you to help search. If you have anything to do with this- I swear-" Dot's eyes fell onto the key in Wakko's hands.

"...You didn't-" Dot's eyes widened. Wakko nearly jumped off the bed.

"I-it's not what you think-!" Wakko fumbled in shock, but Dot took the opportunity and snatched the key from his hand and ran out of the room, and after Wakko processed what happened, he chased after.

"Dot give it back!" Wakko shouted at her.

"No! His dad is looking for him and Yakko is really upset! I won't let you keep him there!" Dot shouted back.

"You're just brainwashed! He's manipulating you- just like grandma!" Wakko disputed.

"No he isn't Wakko!" Dot contended. "You're the only one who thinks that!"

"I'm just doing what I have to to protect Yakko! Yakko would never have left us before Max arrived- why can't you see that?!" He argued back.

Eventually, Dot slowed and sighed.

"Max is nothing like Grandma- he's pretty cool and is nice and has a nice dad and Yakko really cares about him. He doesn't deserve to be locked in there- just like how you didn't," Dot's grip on the key tightened.

"Locked in where?"

To Wakko's horror, Yakko and Lena weren't too far away.

Neither sibling responded, As Dot gripped the key tighter. However, she didn't hide it, and eventually Lena noticed, her face mortified with recognition.

She looked at Wakko a moment, before shaking her head and taking the key, hurriedly walking toward the tower.

"Locked where? Where does that key go?" Yakko asked innocently as he followed along- he was the only one of the four who hadn't seen it before.

Dot and Wakko decided to follow too, despite the dread that filled both of them with every step (though Dot's was more of empathy than of direct guilt).

However, Yakko was clever, and eventually he recognized the halls.

He grabbed the key from his mother's hand and bolted to the tower, unlocking the door as fast as he could, and running up the stairs at least 3 at a time.

Lena, Dot and Wakko stayed at the bottom silently.

Eventually, the heavy iron door creaked open, and Max was released- the pair making their way down slowly. Wakko didn't hear a word either of them said- the pounding in his head louder than ever as he suppressed tears.

However, when he reached the bottom, he made eye contact with Max.

He didn't... seem mad. Just tired.

"Max, please give your father our sincerest apologies. We're terribly sorry this happened- if there's anything we can do to make up for it, please let us know," Lena apologized.

"Yeah, okay," Max shrugged, sticking his hands in his pockets. "Where is he, by the way?"

"Likely the grand foyer with William- Yakko, would you-?"

"No, I can walk myself." Max interrupted, giving a quick nod to each of them before walking out, leaving everyone frozen as he walked away.

Shit.

His plan worked, but he still felt like crap. Why??? Max was bad. He tried to seperate- he was bad. He-

"Wakko- what the fuck was that?!" Yakko's face was full of tears as he grabbed his brother's collar.

"Yakko- let go of your brother. Now." Lena ordered.

"No- what the fuck?! First, you try to ruin our hang outs, then you read my letters, and then you lock him in the prison our grandmother threw you in and left you to starve??? What is wrong with you?!" Yakko demanded.

"Yakko, I said now." Lena broke them apart.

"Y-you were so blinded by him-!"

"Because I like him, Wakko! He's a good guy!!!"

"He was trying to take you away!!!"

"No he wasn't-! God- are you even listening to us? How many times have we tried to tell you you're delusional!" Yakko threw his hands in the air.

"I am not!!! Why can't you see it-!" Wakko began to tear up too.

"God- are you seriously gonna cry?! You're the one who decided to possible ruin the only fucking friendship I've ever had outside of my family and not only that- but you also possibly just ruined Warnerstock's relationship with Max's Kingdom too!"

Wakko took a step back at that.

"I-i didn't-"

He looked at his mom and Dot- their looks confirming.

"No... No- i- I can't believe you. You are such an idiot- Did you not consider that would happen at all?" Yakko was baffled.

"Yakko-" Lena tried to interrupt.

"I-i'm not an idiot!" Wakko tried to defend, but it was getting really hard for him to justify his actions...

"Yes, you are!!! God- you never think anything through- and even if you realize it was utterly moronic, you still commit!" Yakko spat. "Fucking wild animals have more sense than you!!!"

"Yakko, that is enough." Lena snapped.

Silence echoed through the empty tower, but the damage had already been done. Wakko looked to his mother for sympathy, she only met him with a look of dead seriousness.

"Wakko- you put Warnerstock's relationship with Disneyland, as well as Yakko's relationship with Max, at great risk due to your recklessness and jealousy. There will be a severe punishment to speak of in the morning." She said firmly.

"I w-was just trying to protect..." He hardly had the strength to say it.

"Wake the fuck up, Wakko. Does anyone here look better off- or "protected"- because of your actions? Haven't you done enough?" Yakko bit. Lena gave him a look, but Wakko saw he was right.

Good god- he really was a screw-up, wasn't he?

"I just..." Wakko practically whispered, as he looked to Dot, who only shook her head and looked away. With that last little betrayal, Wakko had had enough. Before he knew it, he bolted out of the tower and out and around the hallways of the castle, before he made it out into the garden and ran deep, deep, deep within to where the hedges were trimmed high and he knew no one would hopefully ever find him.

God- he was such an idiot. He should've listened- he should've fucking listened. Now Yakko hated him, his mom hated him, his dad probably hated him, and even Dot hated him. He put the kingdom in jeopardy- god- why was he such an idiot??

Grandma was right about him. He never knew his place- always acting out on idiotic decisions, impulsive like a filthy animal (though even rabid animals had more sense than him).

He should just stay in this garden forever and die, then everyone around him would stop being hurt from his stupid decisions.

Wakko curled into a ball, hugging his knees as he laid in the grass as he sobbed and sobbed and sobbed and sobbed until he eventually ran out of energy, and before he knew it, he was totally and utterly asleep.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

One Raised by One, The Other Raised By Another

Just a simple what-if fic.

What would happen if only one of the brothers was raised by Elder Kettle, and the other one was raised by the Devil?

A LOT of trauma, death, and horrible, heartbreaking angst; that's for sure.

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I do advise against reading this if you're attached to ANY of these characters or are very sensitive

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Fire.

That's what Mugman knew his whole life. Nothing but hellfire and screams. He was used to it now. 

This was what his whole life was filled with. Just the demonic energy as it swirled around him every day, and the wails and screams from sinners being tortured as he strolled down the isles of Inkwell Hell. Sometimes that strong, painful energy was used to reprimand him when he didn't do something right or when he failed in his duties, sometimes those screams were his, ignored by those who heard them, some being too busy in their agony to care about his, and others, imps, were used to the sickening sound.

Multiple scars and wounds covered his body covered by his clothes from his lessons. It didn't hurt him, not anymore. He was used to it, been used to it for a long time now. He understood why he was punished. He wasn't doing something right, he failed in his job, he spoke when he wasn't spoken to, he wasn't fast enough, wasn't good enough. He didn't see it as something bad, just something necessary.

He stopped fighting back.

He took his reprimands silently, acceptingly.

Unfortunately even that wasn't good enough for the boss, who lived off of suffering and agony. The tyrant subjected him to more mental punishments when he didn't scream or whimper from physical wounds.

He did much better after that adjustment. He couldn't hold his mental wounds, couldn't feel them because they weren't physical, couldn't rub them with ointment and cover them up with bandages.

They were permanent .

And he hated them.

Hated how they kept him up at night, making dark circles form under his eyes, showing off his fatigue for those who even cared enough to see. Hated how he'd stop breathing at some random point and panic for no reason at all. Hated how he feared his own emotions, so much that he separated himself from them as much as he could.

They were nothing but promises of more pain and agony.

His expressions and voice were now dull, monotone for those around him. For those who even bothered to give him their time, not for simple chatter, but to point and whisper, to tease and laugh and mock at. After all, how odd it was to be a place full of imps and demons, and then have only one out-of-place cup living and working among them.

He hated his co-workers. He didn't have any friends, but he felt he didn't have the time for any anyway.

There was one who was nice to him, a small plump imp called 'Henchman'. Their chats never lasted for long though. And when the Mug was horribly and brutally tortured, the imp never stepped in once but gave him bandages and ointment creams with a happy smile, devoid of any empathy. His kindness and the topic of sympathy were never the same.

It wouldn't have mattered anyway though.

Any bond the mug had with anyone never lasted long. If he bonded with the prisoners, his mind would be plagued with their glares of hatred and betrayal when their time came to be tortured, or when he would torture them himself. He never bonded with the imps, they all thought he was strange and ugly, with the handle on the back of his head, or the fact that he was made out of fragile glass.

He couldn't blame them, he thought he was odd and ugly too.

He never saw any reason not to think so. He was a one-of-a-kind. Not in personality but in what he was.

A mug.

A mug who was devoid of any hope or happiness. A mug who was simply a child in horribly wrong hands. A mug who yearned for any kind of warmth or kindness. A mug who wanted, who craved any kind of care or love. A mug who was so broken that no amount of therapy could help him recover from his mental scars, which run so deep.

He was a mug who was nothing more than a person who needed help and wanted it badly, never thought he deserved it, keeping his mouth shut.

He needed an emotion other than dullness, border, or heart-pounding terror. He couldn't remember any time he truly ever smiled.

He needed a break.

So when a certain man with a die for a head went down to fetch him, and rather rudely I may add, all he found was nothing more than an empty room, the mug long gone.

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Warmth and joy.

Mugman learned those two things in a certain, but oh-so-special moment in his life. He met someone, someone energetic, someone brash, someone adventurous, but also kind and warm. 

He found his first-ever friend.

He was a cup creature like him, only having red on his nose and clothes and straw. His eyes were big and cocky, but also held a sense of friendliness in their gaze. His voice was loud and scratchy, spewing out whatever nonsense he felt like spilling.

His name was 'Cuphead', and Mugman found joy.

When they first met, he seemed odd to the other cup coming out of the bushes. But strangely, the child seemed to have taken a liking to him in a matter of seconds. He introduced himself and prompted Mugman to do the same. They shook hands, Mugman's handshake being tense and nervous, his hands ice cold to the touch, the cup's being confident and carefree, his hands warm.

Mugman felt warmth for the first time.

They went on adventures together, whenever Mugman would sneak out of Hell. The first time he got caught, he was reprimanded once more, but this didn't deter him.

He finally found someone who liked him, who didn't greet him with a glare or a look of disgust, but a joyful smile and a happy wave.

Mugman felt care.

When he visited Cuphead more and more, they became even closer. Almost like brothers. He eased up around the child and began to unwind. It felt more than nice. He wasn't reprimanded for having opinions, for showing what he felt.

He was called a lovely name: 'Mugsy'. Said with affection and care.

Mugman could almost sob with joy.

Then they met another, and Mugman was filled with euphoria at the implications of having two whole friends, who accepted him and truly liked him.

Mugman finally felt what it's like to be loved for the first time in his life.

He wished and prayed that it wasn't taken away from him. Prayed that the world was finally giving him mercy.

But nothing lasts forever.

He soon learned that the cup was very impulsive, an easy target for scammers or other people who could harm him. The other friend he had, Ms. Chalice, was a con artist, but he didn't have to worry about her harming them.

Mugman felt protectiveness. He wasn't going to let anything hurt his friend or his brother.

He wished he didn't let them see the horrible thing.

The dreadful casino.

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How did this go so wrong?

How...?

Why, why, why, why...?

It all happened when the cup foolishly believed his boss's promise of riches. They were tricked, he was going to kill him. 

Until the fiend proposed a different idea. Collect all of his runaway debtors and he might spare them. Mugman saw through the lie immediately, but given that hope spot, the cup and chalice agreed desperately. Mugman didn't say anything. As they were rudely kicked out, Mugman practically felt his boss's stare on his back, a stare tainted with nothing but mischief and sadism.

He didn't know why his boss didn't share his secret with the very two he kept it from. Unease spreading throughout his body, he was dragged along by the other two.

It took two days to get the task done, having received potions from the cup's elderly caretaker.

When they defeated the foolish King Dice, they approached the devil without fear. When they refused to hand the contracts over, the devil, that bastard, did something Mugman would never forgive him for.

He revealed everything that Mugman kept hidden.

When they heard about this, shock and disbelief formed on the other children's faces. They at first vehemently denied it, refusing to believe Mugman would be capable of even considering joining the awful dark side. But Mugman confirmed it all.

It was silent.

Then they asked why, heartbreak and betrayal in their gazes, but the mug didn't have an answer. He simply looked down at his shoes.

But the next thing they did surprised him. They accepted the truth. They accepted everything that Mugman kept from them. Said that he was their friend. Said he was their brother.

Mugman felt the sting of tears.

The boss said nothing, frustration was written all over his face. But then something seemed to chime in the being's head because a malicious and devilish smile overtook his features. He simply pointed his trident at Mugman and fired before any of them could stop it.

All Mugman felt was unbearable pain, nothing but agony. He heard the other two call out his name in worry, felt gentle hands on his back, and heard the deity's horrible laughter.

The next thing he knew, he tore through clothes.

He tore through glass and skin.

He heard their pained cries, and felt their hands against his mouth, begging him to stop. To try and remember.

But there wasn't anything Mugman could do but sob, tears dripping down his face, sizzling out on the hot stone floor. He was nothing but a puppet under the Devil's control.

He begged and pleaded and prayed for any chance of gaining control. Of stopping this. But nothing.

The chalice was the first to go. Her face was disfigured along with the rest of her body. Her skull shattered.

Then was the cup, his last cry forever haunting the mug's mind:

"Mugsy no!"

His chest was torn open, his face was littered with cracks, the last of life draining away, and tears streamed down his face. Even in his dying state, the cup's eyes still bore into Mugman, this time being nothing more than hollow empty nothingness, the kindness and warmth forever gone from the world.

When he was done, Mugman could do nothing.

He couldn't even sob anymore. He ran out of tears for once.

All he did was stare in silent disbelief.

The Devil simply laughed and laughed and laughed . He mocked the mug, threatened him, and taunted him about all he had lost.

What the deity didn't expect was the mug suddenly snapping and rabidly tearing into him like a deranged animal. His pitchfork kicked away, and he was too shocked and powerless to do anything else.

This time, the only screams and pleas for mercy, were from the very person who lived off it.

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Mugman felt grief and despair.

The first people to show kindness and warmth to him were now gone. The only things that mattered to him were far away, all the way up there. In the place upstairs.

Where they belong.

They might have been reckless and greedy at times, but that wasn't their main defining trait. Wasn't his main defining trait. 

Brash, stubborn, clever, reckless, cheerful, adventurous, hopeful, relentlessly optimistic, friendly, warm: he wished he could witness those again. Wished he could roll his eyes or scold the cup when he did something stupid again, wish he could tap dance along with Ms. Chalice once more, wish he could feel their loving embrace in a group hug.

Wished he could hear that special, affectionate word once more.

But it was too late. They were gone. He had nobody to cry to. No arms to hold him in a warm embrace.

He was as alone as he began.

Mugman felt rage.

Towards the person, he had locked up tight. The person he went down to give his dose of sadism to. The sadism, he never truly felt satisfied with. He lost all his happiness, now he was simply drained.

Mugman felt hatred.

He blamed himself for it all. If he had done nothing if he had simply continued to watch the world from outside. If he had simply continued to not be a part of the world, things would have turned out so much differently. They would have been alive and happy.

So for their sake, he continued to live. For them. He did the things they wanted to do. Watch the new Dirk Dangerous movie at the theatre, go on as many rides as possible at several amusement parks, eat a stomach-aching pile of sweets, explored Inkwell Isles, and so much more. Such simple, mundane things.

Such special cherishes.

It was oh-so-achingly beautiful.

The Devil's minions feared and hated him, but he didn't care. Couldn't care less. This wasn't for their sake anyways. They weren't as obedient when he first ruled, but when he snuffed out a traitor, that stupid dice, in vile and awful ways, they started to conform to him.

He could practically smell their fear. And he both gagged and relished at the implications it brought.

He kept a distant and aloof demeanor toward his minions. Made sure not to falter or reveal his true feelings of nothingness and emotion-numbing pain.

So when they would hear him sobbing himself to sleep every night, every night, they did their best not to acknowledge or speak about it. It was best for their safety.

When they saw him hitting himself on the head out of frustration and anger, with enough force to form cracks and bruises, they minded their own business. When they heard him mourn over the two children's graves, they turned their gaze.

They didn't see a powerful and respectful leader, they merely saw a broken, emotionally unstable, psychologically exhausted, and mentally fragile child who looked ready to snap at any given time. They did their best not to push him to that point. But they lost sight of whether it was out of pity or fear.

But if they hated it, they couldn't do anything to help themselves, they were only minions after all.

So they did nothing and accepted the new Devil. The new ruler of all hell, broken and already defeated.

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I am not sorry >:)

Muahahahahahahhaha!!!

“Everything dies ; But I would give everything for you to stay…” (Trolls. angst fic)

TW:grieving a de@th ,heavy disassociation, delusions,death (not in this chapter dw)

“This is the 3rd time this month Barb hasn’t showed up to any meetings , She hasn’t even tried to contact anyone about WHY she’d be absent! At this point it out right disrespectful!” Delta yells as she slams her hands down onto the table.

All the other tribe leaders make noises of agreement and aggression towards the empty seat, reserved for the missing hard rock troll.

Poppy is quick to come to barbs defense “Hey, maybe she’s just busy, or something?!Barb has been really polite- well as polite as she’s capable of being- but I don’t think she’s blowing us off on purpose… its just not like her, she always at least sends a letter that she won’t come,shouldn’t this be seen as more of a concern rather than a conflict?

Poppy’s words sink into the other trolls at the table.

Delta places her hands onto her hips. With a sigh, her tense shoulders dropping slowly as she considers Poppy’s words.

“… your right poppy, maybe… she has things going on Rock city and she just doesn’t have the time. Wait what about Val her ambassador? Where is she?” delta says now noticing both of the rock troll’s absence.

“Val said that Barb needed her in rock city for a while. She told me she would be back in a week, but that was four weeks ago , right before Barb started missing the meetings!” Holly speaks up with concern in her voice for her friend.

Delta sighs “Welp , guess we’re making a trip to Rock City. King Quincy would you do the honors.” She looks to king Quincy and Queen Essence as she gestures to the Funk trolls UFO.

King Quincy nods and bubbles them up into the funk trolls UFO.

End of chapter 1

ANGST TASTES SO GOOD , LIKE A SWEET THING WITH A BITTER AFTERTASTE THAT JUST SQUEEZES YOUR HEART SO GOOD YOU FEEL LIKE FLOATING AND THEN GOING BACK DOWN. SJFIFKKFKFLFLC

Yall should I steal my mom’s copy of A Little Life to see if it’s actually worse than the fanfics I was reading at 13

Prompt 75

After being yelled at on the mountain, Jaskier stumbles and tumbles his way down the perilous path down, all the while being half-blinded by his own tears. He makes it to town and decides to wait. Geralt will realize it was all a mistake and come to find him and apologize. It'll take a few days, but Jaskier can wait. He'll play for some coin, and buy himself something nice to distract himself from the heartbreak. It's been four days. Jaskier has a room at an inn, two beds, in case Geralt doesn't want to sleep in the same bed with him like they used to. Jaskier plays every night. Everyone keeps requesting his songs about Geralt, but he redirects them easily enough. The only problem is he ran out of non-Geralt songs after the second day. Even ones that don't mention him, Jaskier can't bring himself to play, because he knows that he wrote them about Geralt. It's been a week. Jaskier has his room at the same inn. He still plays for coin, but he's been forced to play his songs about Geralt, as nobody wants to hear the same songs for a week straight, so he had to diversify. Jaskier is worried Geralt might've gotten hurt. Hopefully with his witcher healing, he'll be here in no time. It's been two weeks. Jaskier has his room at the inn. He's decided to take a break from playing for a bit, lest he get boring for the crowds. He's begun really exploring the town, and he's even met one of his frequent listeners out in town, got his name - Pietr - And was introduced to his wife as "The song guy". It was nice hearing compliments about his work from them both, even if it did remind him of the nights Geralt would talk in-depth about Jaskier's songcycles with him. He misses those nights. He hopes Geralt heals up from whatever injury he must've gotten and gets here soon so they can continue having those. It's been two months. Jaskier has changed to a one-bed room. Geralt is taking forever, he can deal with sharing a bed with Jaskier when he gets here. Jaskier plays every few nights, he has regular listeners now. He's tried writing new songs, but every time he puts quill to parchment, he starts crying. Really wish he'd stop doing that. It's been four months. Jaskier has changed his room again, now in a room with a single small bed, just for one person. It'd be physically impossible to even attempt sharing it with Geralt, unless they laid on top of each other, and even then, Geralt's feet would poke out. Jaskier can only assume Geralt went after Yennefer before him. As always. Jaskier isn't sure why it came as a surprise when he first figured it out. Or why it still hurt enough to make him bawl into a glass of alcohol. He should've known from the beginning. At least he'll be next, he thinks moments before passing out drunk. It's been six months. Jaskier is beginning to worry Geralt may have died. Surely he would've come by now. Jaskier's head still whips around to look at the door every time it opens. He still peeks into every stable and prays he'll see Roach. He still asks the blacksmith if he's done any work with swords recently. One especially mortifying moment was the time he asked a brothel if they had seen Geralt's description, only for the women to all tut sadly and tell him that if he had to look at brothels to try and find his missing husband, he must've not been good enough for Jaskier to begin with. Jaskier leaves without even clearing up the misconception, because it was still a no. Geralt was still not here.

It's been eight months. Jaskier has the same room, but has begun to dwindle in popularity. At least in the "giving money to" department. He thought he could at least expect Pietr, but he ran into him in the market the other day and Pietr had no idea who he was. Jaskier must really be that forgettable, despite all his attempts his whole life to not be. Jaskier must've just overexaggerated what he meant to someone again. Jaskier has scaled the mountain again, all by himself. Either he finds signs of Geralt, dead or alive, or he dies in some rockslide accident and nobody misses him. He finds no signs of Geralt, however. Not a thing. Geralt left the mountain, that was for sure. Jaskier sat on the very same rock, and cried thinking of the very same coast, but this time he was alone. It's been ten months. Jaskier spends his days and nights either drinking or crying. He's only written one new song, one about someone's love dying before they ever get to tell them how they feel. He's never sung it, though. For a performance or in private. He's stopped playing altogether. He has no idea what to do with the rest of his life. As sad and pitiful and pathetic as he thinks himself when he says it, his life was Geralt. Following him for twenty years, writing songs about him, spreading word about him, making a name for himself as "The White Wolf's bard." It's been a year. Jaskier bought himself a small hovel in the village. He'd been there far too long to keep using the inn. He has a small flower garden. He spends most of his time tending it. Jaskier heard a villager say their penpal's village was recently saved by the White Wolf himself, and Jaskier freezes, standing still and gaping at the two women chatting. They begin to realize Jaskier's eavesdropping and move to talk inside their home. Oh. So Geralt lived. He just truly didn't come for Jaskier. Jaskier throws the last song he wrote for Geralt into the fire. Geralt isn't dead. But Geralt probably wishes Jaskier was. Jaskier stays inside his home long enough for his garden to get overrun with weeds and pests. He only leaves his home when one day, there's incessant knocking on his door. He opens it to find Yennefer. Great. She grabs his arm, summons a portal behind her, and shOVES him in. She sits him down in a chair in a kitchen, comments on how terrible he looks, and then leaves upstairs. After a few moments, Yennefer drags Geralt in, even though Geralt is clearly trying his best not to enter the room. Lovely. As if Jaskier didn't already feel like the bane of Geralt's existence. Yennefer finally sits Geralt down, and explains to them that it was just as she thought. They were bespelled. Geralt has been having lapses of memory and odd sudden urges for about a year now. He'd forget people he spoke to, towns he'd go in, and suddenly go off his routes or paths with intense need to go on a detour he could never talk himself out of. Geralt can hardly listen to her, he's just stuck staring at Jaskier with awe. Jaskier's alive. Jaskier's alive. Ever since the mountain, Geralt has been visiting the towns around the mountain, praying to find his bard again, only for everybody in the towns to not have seen anyone meeting his description. It was only two months in that he combed the entire mountain, both hoping and dreading to find Jaskier's body. He found nothing. No signs of his bard. And with nobody ever seeing him enter the village, it's almost as if he just... disappeared. Yennefer explains that anytime Geralt asked someone of Jaskier, the person would forget everything they knew about him. Any time Geralt almost made contact with Jaskier, his mind would suddenly tug him into a new direction. it seems to have been born into existence the day they had their fight on the mountain. Specifically when Geralt asked for life to take Jaskier off his hands.

Geraskier - HARD ANGST - inspired by a scene from Ladyhawke -anyone can to use it

This prompt is set sometime after everything that happens in Kaer Morhen. Jaskier is still injured from the torture, as he was dragged away with everything and didn't have time to heal. Add to that, the injuries from the battle with Violet Meir. Geralt is unaware of any of Jaskier's injuries. Jaskier, Ciri and Geralt were in a city and saw Nilfgardian soldiers. They quickly leave the city, without suitable clothes for the cold, even though Jaskier says they can distract the soldiers, to get appropriate clothes, but Geralt, nervous and afraid to protect Ciri, ignores it and the three leave the city as they are. . They follow the path, which at this point is cold and snowing because it is winter. Jaskier tries not to complain about anything, as he sees that Geralt is very nervous about it all. Geralt tries to go through increasingly difficult paths and when they find a frozen lake, Jaskier sees Ciri with fear, and with pity and seeing that it is risky to go through the thin ice, he warns Geralt that perhaps it is better to go through a safer path, as there is no view of the Nilfgardians and they can rest assured and choose a better path. Geralt just ignores Jaskier and even against the bard's wishes, the three continue over the frozen lake. A creature emerges from the ice, something that Geralt has never seen, and even though the witcher emerges victorious, and does not know the monster's anatomy, the sticky tongue ends up stuck in the witcher's leg, when he drags him, Geralt, distracted, ends up hitting his head on the ice. and fainting. Ciri and Jaskier try to free the witcher, but the monster starts to slide into a hole into the lake, and the bard sees that he can't do much and with the witcher's legs already submerged, Jaskier takes Geralt's sword and jumps. into the hole to cut out the creature's tongue. The bard manages to free him, but is injured in the process. Jaskier, exhausted, uses his cloak, the only thicker clothing against the cold, to carefully pull Geralt under the ice and out of the lake, in a safe place. He does so, warms him with a fire (even though he's afraid of fire), and takes care of Geralt and calms Ciri while he's still passed out. Jaskier suffers from the cold, from being wet in the cold, from wounds old and new, from leaving his cloak warming the witcher and from the exhaustion of pulling him all the way there. When Geralt wakes up, he asks about what happened and Jaskier explains without mentioning details like Jaskier getting hurt or him going into the lake. Ciri is sleeping, so she doesn't intervene in the explanation. But the bard is soon surprised when Geralt asks where his sword is. Geralt's sword is the one with Renfri's broxe and the witcher is that is an important factor as you know and Jaskier doesn't know. But Jaskier says he lost her in the lake. Geralt pushes Jaskier against a tree, saying that he has no idea how important the sword is to him and what it means. He ends up putting even more pressure on Jaskier's injuries. Ciri wakes up and she separates them, but they both refuse to talk about what happened. All of this causes the two to stay apart for the rest of the trip, with Geralt ignoring Jaskier until they arrive in another city. Jaskier falls ill and only then, after taking off the bard's wet and blood-stained clothes, does Geralt know the whole truth. About Jaskier's mental state: he's been feeling so bad about everything and with such low self-esteem since the mountain, that he ends up believing he's rubbish who has lost something of immeasurable value from the witcher, falling into a descent into self-hatred, to the point thinking that it only gets in the way and has no value.

Ooooh I'd love to see this with a happy ending, lots of cuddles and conversations! The devil works hard but @oonoturna works harder, giving us another prompt in the prompt box! Everyone enjoy the pain x

HEAVY HARD hurt GERASKIER prompt -Geralt believes Rience when he says that Jaskier betrayed him and gave Kaer Morhen and Ciri's location.

Prompt: after Rience and Jaskier's torture take Ciri to Kaer Morhen. Jaskier is still injured, but Rience puts a spell on him, which prevents others from seeing his real state, with injuries. Geralt hears from Yennefer about the bard's meeting with Rience, but she doesn't go into detail about everything. But then, Rience finds the fortress and searches for Ciri, attacking everyone. He finds Jaskier and Geralt, and says something (he's cunning and manipulative) that he assumes that the bard who told him about the location… and that he just offered some coins for it, and that Jaskier wanted to get revenge on Geralt for the mountain . (Rience gets the information from someone or reads it from Jaskier's mind, the writer can decide, including the information about the location of the fortress, I haven't decided on that yet). Yennefer manages to attack Rience who runs away, but says she will return now that she knows where Cirilla is. With that, Geralt confronts Jaskier about what Rience said… Jaskier begins to defend himself, but his mental and physical state begin to hinder him in his explanation. Geralt ends up pressing the bard against a pillar (remember here that he is already injured from both torture and Violet Meir and has had no time to heal or any chance to get treatment), and Geralt starts yelling at Jaskier about betrayal, about him not thinking about a child (Ciri), about him having betrayed him for a petty and vile reason, etc. Use your imagination here. I think of something that reaches the point where Jaskier starts to believe in all of this due to his state of mental weakness. Geralt decides they need to leave the fortress, leaving Jaskier behind. Being left behind again makes Jaskier even worse… and he goes into an even worse state of denial and self-hatred. Jaskier feels that he himself actually told about Ciri's location and the fortress and that he betrayed Geralt… alone in Kaer Morhen, Rience appears again and confronts the bard again about where they are… But among the conversation, Rience begins mocking Jaskier and removes the spell to show the marks he left on his body… he begins to torture the bard again, even psychologically. Yennefer, already in doubt, as she didn't believe that the bard had told Rience anything before saving him, opens a portal from where she is with Geralt to the fortress… where she finds Rience hurting Jaskier… She rescues the bard who is already dying and without Rience's spell that hid his injuries. Yen takes the bard to where she was with Geralt… that's when the witcher sees Jaskier's real state… and when Yennefer tells him what she heard from Rience while he was torturing Jaskier… that it was easy to manipulate Geralt about the bard, because after all, he never trusted Jaskier and never considered him a friend or someone he should protect. Jaskier is in an even more critical state due to his injuries and Geralt begs Yennefer to heal him. Yennefer: I'm trying, trying! But look at him! My magic needs his body to respond to heal! But he has old wounds, his body has not healed from them, he is very weak! It's not reacting. Jaskier then goes into cardiac arrest, right before Geralt's eyes. Detail: Jaskier in front lying on the ground, motionless… Yennefer trying to revive him… he's not breathing… but Geralt can still see the marks of his own fingers on Jaskier's neck, the moment he pushed him in the pilaster and said he didn't consider him anything. That he was wrong to trust a bard, accustomed to frivolities… especially a bard like him, who would trade anyone for a new lute. That he should have gotten rid of him sooner, before he came to destroy the only important thing in his life… Ciri. Yes, I want drama! Sadness, I want excitement! aahahahahaha

Oh em geeeee, that's so tragic!!! And fucked up! I love it~ Would love to read it at some point, if anyone is in the mood to write aaaangst!!! We got another lovely idea from @oonoturna, always spoiling us!

“ ma’am, your husband kidnapped the State Alchemist, the Fullmetal Alchemist…”

Chapter 27, Gore and Glory go hand in hand.

Coming soon

The Floor is Painted Red

WARNING BLOOD AND DEATH IN LAST PART

so this is my first real fic with any romance I have posted and it's Perimedes/Elpenor along with Polites. It's fluff in first part and angst in the second part anyway hope you guys enjoy!

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Elpenor drags Perimedes to the side and starts to whisper his eyes full of mischief and he can't help but admire how full of life he is.He could stare at him forever watching his animated gestures and bright smile. He can get lost in his warm and light filled eyes.

“Okay so i have a- hey Peri you listening to me?” Perimedes shakes himself out of his staring, his face a faint red blush.

“Ah sorry what were you saying?” He listens best he can even if he might be a tad distracted with Elpenor's lips- no, bad Perimedes stop thinking of him like that he is just a friend-

“I found some paint hidden away and I have a way to liven things up. We can have it set up over Polite's doorway and when he leaves it will fall on him! It will be hilarious!” Perimedes tries to half-heartedly protest but when has he ever been able to say no to Elpenor? He sighs and lets himself be dragged away to set up the prank.

“There it's perfect! All we have to do is wait.” Both of them settle down nearby watching for the moment Polites leaves. It doesn't take long for Elpenor to start fidgeting, unable to stay still for long as Perimedes shakes his head fondly. Their patience soon pays off though as Polite's door opens and the paint comes splashing down and covering him in bright red paint.

He just stands there for a bit sputtering as the paint drips on the floor. He looks up and sees Elpenor and Perimedes laying on the deck laughing like crazy and his shock turns into a mischievous grin. Polites walks up to them and grabs a hold of them making sure to rub the paint all over them too.

Laughter soon fades into screams but the red still remains.

“Polites-” Perimedes stares at the paint blood covering Polites in shock. No this can’t be, it's just paint right? Polites is fine he can't be dead he can't- Perimedes stumbles his way over to Polites. He barely notices falling to the ground and the pain from the rough ground scraping his knees. He only recently figured out that he saw Polites as a father figure, he can't lose him so soon! Tears mix with the blood pooling around the still form of Polites as Perimedes sobs.

Why did he have to care so much?

Down the Barrel

[BATIM/BATDR] Alice Angel x Female Reader

Summary: Alice thinks you've betrayed her, assuming you gave away the location of her safehouse after she sees you talking to Allison and Tom. You have to save yourself from this misunderstanding.

Word Count: 4.24k Content Warnings: Toxic/abusive relationship, manipulation, syringes and injections, fear of abandonment, near-death experience, jealousy, manipulation, a "break up" between Reader and Alice Category: Heavy Angst || Oneshot

[A/N]: Alice and Reader have an extremely unhealthy relationship in this short story, but I am in no way trying to condone or romanticize it. There are multiple sensitive topics as listed above, so please look after yourself and avoid reading if you feel any of these are too heavy for you.

Enjoy!

 From close behind, merely inches away, you could hear the sound of Alice’s heels clicking against the warped planks beneath her. You had headed toward the vault door to head out for the day, but mistakenly forgot to let her know. Frigid fingers clasped themselves around your wrist and held you in place with a vice grip. A small tug backward was all it took for you to turn and face her. “Where do you think you’re going?” She pulled you closer, her hold on you never faltering, even as you stumbled forward from the motion. As she spoke, the one eye she still had intact narrowed, almost threatening you and daring you not to cower under her gaze.

Her tone was demeaning. Each time you tried to pull your arm from her clutch, her nails only dug deeper into your skin. With a harsh swallow, you managed to stammer out an answer. “I’m sorry, Alice. I meant to tell you, I just forgot. I was going to head down to a few of the lower levels to find a few supplies to help with your experiments.”

For a long, painful moment, she seemed to only drag out the thick tension, as though wanting you to feel the crushing consequence of blatantly ignoring the one rule she had set in place. After so long, you had managed to tear her walls down and get her to trust you, though there were still demands to be met. One of which she was more stubborn about than others. Each time you planned to leave the hidden corner of her sanctuary, you were to let her know ahead of time. If you forgot to do so, and if she wasn’t told of your whereabouts until you returned, the punishments could be ruthless.

You would be subjected to a few of her smaller, yet equally as merciless, experiments. They ranged from small tests of the weight her pulley-based traps could hold, all the way to enduring endless injections of different deadly concoctions she had developed over time, most of which would leave you bedridden for days or even weeks.

Those punishments were far worse. No matter what she kept in the syringe, the fiery jolt of pain that bursted through each vein throughout your body always seemed to be worse than the last. So little of her supplies could ease the throbbing pain that continued to torment you for weeks. Thankfully, she had eased up on carrying those punishments out as time went on. In her own twisted, demented way, she began to care for you, growing attached and increasingly fearful of losing you. Although it brought her sadistic joy to see you writhing from her tools and trials, she couldn’t bear the idea of bringing you to death’s door.

You were everything to her.

All she had left in the vile, rotten world that built the studio was you.

You weren’t spared from her tests, nor were you given a sense of freedom, but you were granted a promise she had made to keep you safe.

Even if you couldn’t avoid her line of fire when directed toward you, she made sure you were sheltered from the countless grueling abominations crawling just outside the door. Everyone beneath the domain of the crumbling studio feared two beings above everything else: the Ink Demon, and Alice Angel herself. You knew that those who were aware you were under her watch would drift apart in your favor. They’d give you room and split ways just to grant you a false sense of superiority that you knew was only caused by the fear they felt for the very woman who took you in.

Each time, even as you stood silent in front of her then, you wondered how differently your path would’ve been shaped if you had accepted the offer Allison and Tom had given you years ago to stay with them instead. With every experiment Alice put you through, you regretted turning them down more and more.

To pull you from your trance, Alice whisked your arm away and finally let go of your wrist, which had already begun to bruise. Eager to find relief, you pulled your hand to your chest to shield it as your fingers massaged the red skin. “Good,” was all she could bother to say. Still, she stood there, glaring at you expectantly. Your words seemed to bubble up in your chest and throat, though it was hard to free them.

“I should be back in two hours,” you managed to whisper weakly in the end.

The non-tattered portion of her lips tugged upward, mimicking a ghost of a smile. With her eyes still trained warily on you, she lifted her arms to cross them atop her chest. “You’d better keep true to your word,” she murmured with venom laced in her tone. As though she couldn’t be bothered to contribute to the stalemate any longer, she turned swiftly on her heel and traversed her way down the hall to return to her study, finally leaving you to your task.

Using the hand that hadn’t been throttled mere moments before, you turned the valve wheel as best you could to allow you to shove the bulky door open.

Once the steel was locked back in place behind you, your trembling legs hardly allowed you to weakly wobble forward. As you progressed to the elevator and stepped inside, some part of you screamed to run and leave Alice for good. If you weren’t so afraid of your only means of defense being stripped away, you would have left her long ago and joined Allison and Tom in their own safe house. They knew something was going on behind closed doors, but you always defended Alice without knowing why. You didn’t deserve her treatment. You knew that, and yet you stayed, but you couldn’t understand what prevented you from leaving.

You didn’t love her, and she didn’t seem to love you.

But some part of you knew what the reason likely was.

If you left, not only would people come after you, but Alice herself would hunt you like a bloodhound and take you out herself. She would probably drag you back to her sanctuary and return to the way things were when you had first been captured. There would be no restraint in her actions when she returned to experimenting on you, and you weren’t sure how many more injections you could take.

The only two people who were willing to save and protect you would also be thrown under attack, and the last thing you wanted to do was burden them with another threat. As far as you could tell, there was no way out.

The first two levels below Level 9 had nothing to offer. It seemed like someone had scavenged for supplies long before you, and you felt like you knew who it was. As you reached a floor even deeper than before, you recognized a small toolkit propped up against the only wall that hadn’t been soaked and molded with ink. Only one Angel, one who truly seemed to be a gift from heaven, carried such a particular set of tools, and waves of relief and ease crashed over your tensed form.

You meandered forward upon hearing distant murmuring combined with tin cans clanking together. As you sauntered further and neared the two shadows visible from a small office, you couldn’t help but glance over at a nearby clock, the swinging motion of the legs and arms catching your eye. Blood running cold, you realized you had been out far later than you had promised Alice you would be. Things were going to be even worse than when you had left once you returned.

But Allison and Tom were right there… you didn’t have to return.

They’d keep you safe.

With a quick breath to give yourself courage, you stepped into the office and greeted them. They turned, surprised, and smiled warmly.

A displeased grimace painted Alice’s lips as she stepped out of her study. She slammed the door behind her and charged her way to the door you had slipped through over three and a half hours before. You promised you’d be back in two hours. Where the hell had you gone?

Quickly, before leaving the hidden portion of her safe house, her clenched fist opened just long enough to snatch her tommy gun from its stand against the wall. As she muttered curse after curse under her breath, she strode to the elevator leading out of Level 9 and clicked down.With every floor that she searched, her fury and panic grew. No matter how far down she traveled, it seemed you weren’t anywhere to be found.

You betrayed her.

Lied to her.

You had to have planned something. You wouldn’t just leave her like that, would you?

Her scowl grew, and soon, she had reached one of the deepest parts of the studio. Cautiously, she forced herself to step out of the lift. Her hands clutched violently at her weapon to steady themselves as her surroundings seemed to fall further into unfamiliarity.

The halls grew longer until it seemed as though there was no end in sight. Shadows danced around the rotting ground as she pushed forward, the flickering lights soon dimming and falling as black as the ink that seeped into each wall, no life left to offer. Each step caused the floorboards to creak and wail beneath her weight, prompting a part of her mind to warn her of the possibility that the floor might give way at any moment. Breathing ragged and sharp, she eventually found the end of the hall she had been creeping down and turned to the right.

Down the adjacent corridor, a blazing glow sparked to life, providing negative space for the silhouettes of three shifting figures. With piqued curiosity, Alice couldn’t help but give in to her interest in who would dare to travel so far down to the hellish depths even the Demon himself avoided. She carried toward the source of light, body hugging the wall as she made her best effort to silence her footsteps.

With every shuffle closer, she could make out the sounds of two voices, both feminine, though no matter how hard she strained her hearing, she couldn’t make out any words. By the time she was only a few steps from the doorway, she could finally recognize the different voices. Both realizations made her blood boil beneath her skin.

You were there, speaking so casually with Allison, meaning the only other person who could be in the room as well was Tom. She could feel herself begin to seethe. Her jaw clenched as she struggled to ignore every burning nerve in her body that screamed for her to enter the office. Even without seeing you and the two people she despised the most, she could hear how relaxed the conversation seemed to be. Far too blinded by rage, she failed to listen to what was being said, only able to come up with her own dialogue.

Before anyone could take notice of her presence, she slipped away from the room and stormed back to the lift, now uncaring of the haunted surroundings in her path.

She hadn’t paid attention to where she was going. By the time she focused back in on her actions, she found herself standing stiff just before the entrance to her sanctuary. She glanced down at her hands, both trembling and desperately gripping at the grip and handguard. Behind her ribs, her heartbeat grew rapid and uneven, hammering harshly against them and causing her gasps for breath to stutter.

How could you leave her like that? Were you going to leave her for Allison? The copycat who stole everything from her?

She wouldn’t let you–couldn’t let you. You were all she had, and she was all you had. She needed you, you needed her, she loved you, you loved her, did you not?

What could she do to make you stay? Was there anything she could even do at that point? You had deceived her, made her believe you were coming back when you weren’t. That had to have been your plan: to make everything seem natural until you could get away and run to the safety of Allison and Tom. She knew they’d take you away from her in a heartbeat if you so much as asked.

She was going to lose you, she was sure. Lose the only bit of light she still had down in the world of hell she had lived alone in for so long.

Surely there was a way for her to convince you she was worth staying with.

She knew she was worthy, she just wasn’t sure how to prove it to you.

You had only been there for a short amount of time in comparison to the other poor souls trapped and sequestered from the world. You had no way of knowing the full extent of what she was capable of, nor what she was willing to do to get what she wanted. At that moment, you were all she wanted–all she needed.

You weren’t going to leave her.

She made sure of that as she heard footsteps approaching behind her. One glance over her shoulder confirmed it was you. Without hesitation, she hid herself behind the wall adjoining the hall you were headed down. As you emerged into the opening, an inky arm erupted from your side and blocked you for a brief moment. Just as quickly, the hand obstructing your path seized the collar of your shirt and yanked you forward.

The owner of the force revealed themself, and Alice–just like she had done before you left–stood before you, her face mere inches from your own. The vice grip against your blouse didn’t falter as she made the motion to shake you back and forth for an instant. When you swayed back the first time, she lifted her opposite arm and shoved her weapon toward your head.

Swallowing hard, you could only stare down the barrel of her gun as you tried to make sense of what was happening. Her piercing gaze met your fearful eyes once you managed to tear your focus away from what threatened your life.

“You vile, unforgivable wretch,” she growled. “How dare you? First, you deceive me, telling me you’ll return. Then, when I finally find you long after when you had promised to come back to me, I find you practically fawning over that damned copycat you’re always so cordial with. Heaven only knows why I ever allowed you to speak to them. They’re trying to steal yet another belonging of mine, just as they’ve done time and time again in the past.

“I won’t allow it this time. I’ll hide you away so they can’t find you and take you away from me. Somewhere they don’t know of, especially after you gave away where we’ve both been hiding past my sanctuary. I bet you want them to swoop in and save you from everything, don’t you? Is that why you told them where the safe house is? Oh, I’m sure you begged for that woman, Allison, to take you home with her and that disgusting clone that follows her like a lost puppy. Isn’t that right, you conniving little devil?”

For so long, even after she had finished voicing her list of accusations, you simply stared, entirely limp in her grasp. War raged on in your mind, begging you to say something, anything. Anything at all.

The feeling of the gun’s barrel thrusting forward to dig in against the space between your eyes finally coerced your mouth to form words again. “Alice,” you stammered out, “I never told them where we’re hiding, I promise. I was only catching up and asking where I could find the stuff you need for your tests.”

A snarl was your response at first, though she was quick to bark a retort. “You aren’t going to fool me again, you damned traitor. All you’ve done today is feed me lie after lie, and I refuse to let it continue. Why should I believe you now, knowing it could be yet another story you’re creating just to save your skin?” Once again, you tried to find a way to reason with her, desperately aching for her to let you go and pull the gun from your head. “Alice, I’m sorry. I really thought it would only take a couple of hours to find supplies, but Allison and Tom had already gathered them from the first levels downstairs, so I had to go further down to find things. That’s where I found them, and I was asking if they had anything to spare.

“If I had really told them where we were hiding, wouldn’t I have just brought them here with me? It’s easy to get lost in the studio. Just giving directions wouldn’t do anything. It’s like a maze trying to get to our safety zone. Even with their experience, I doubt they’d be able to find it without being noticed.”

Much to your relief, each point you had to offer compelled her to loosen her grip until ultimately you fell to the floor. She stared down at you, face devoid of any emotion as she processed all that you had said. You mustered up the strength to rise from the ground and stand on wobbly legs. It took everything in you to meet her eye as you did so, trying your best to fein a look of concern.

“You don’t really think I’d betray you, do you?”

She simply stood there in silence, her one good eye boring down blankly at you.

“Let’s go,” she grumbled, her gun falling to her side and her free hand slipping into yours to tug you along behind her.

She turned, then began the long journey back to the safe house. A thick, heavy tension hung in the air between the both of you. The silence was deafening, and even as you hopelessly tried to think of what to say to ease into some kind of conversation, not a word was uttered by the time you had made it to the vault door. Alice turned the valve wheel and forced the door open, letting you step inside before her so she could shut and lock it behind her.

You turned to her, watched as she dropped her gun on the table seated in the center of the foyer, then silently trailed behind her as she walked to your shared bedroom. When you stepped forward to cross the doorway and join her in the room, she practically slammed the door in your face, making you stumble backward in shock.

“Alice?” You questioned with a small knock on the sturdy wooden surface.

“Leave me be,” was all you could hear.

Huffing out a sigh and letting your shoulders slump in defeat, you trudged away from the room and instead wandered into the office across the hall to rest on the sofa pressed against the mirroring wall.

Hours had passed by the time you found yourself once again standing just outside the bedroom. You knocked, but got no response. As your lips parted to let you speak, Alice’s voice interrupted. “Come in.” In an attempt to steel your spiked nerves, you sucked in a deep breath.

Hand trembling, you grasped at the handle of the door, twisting it and slowly pushing forward to reveal more and more of the bedroom, waiting for her to holler at you that she had changed her mind and wanted you gone.

Seated slouched over on the edge of the bed, Alice merely glanced over at you before her head dipped down to hide the shameful expression that contorted her face. Slowly, too afraid to make a wrong move and upset her, you shuffled to sit by her side. Still, she refused to meet your gaze. One moment passed, then two, and soon you had begun to bounce your leg and pick relentlessly at the hem of your shirt.

A frigid hand planted itself softly against your leg to still it. You peered up to find Alice finally looking back at you. Eventually, you sighed, letting your hand rest on top of hers. “Could I ask you something?” You asked faintly. A nod was your response.

“Do you truly believe I would ever betray you?”

She chuckled. “Honestly? With all I’ve put you through, I wouldn’t blame you. I’d hate you for it, but I know I’d do the same. I talk so much of keeping you safe, but I’ve put you through so much hell. All the experiments I’ve forced on you, all the punishments I’ve given you because you simply did as you pleased, every time I’ve put you down or hurt you… You don’t deserve any of it, and I truly am sorry, but you have to understand my side of this, too. You never fully know who you can trust down here, darling. You know I adore you, even though I have a horrible way of expressing it, but I’ve been living with this paranoia for so long. It’s hard to just ignore it. I hope you can find it in yourself to try and understand.

“On top of everything today, you were speaking to the two people down here who I tried to hunt down for years. Until recently, we had never been civil with one another. You changed that, but I know they still don’t enjoy my company. They don’t hide it well at all. I can’t say I blame them for that either.”

You felt a small spark of frustration grow at her words, blurting out what flooded your mind before you could stop yourself. “Alice, I know you’ve been through hell down here, too, but that gives you no right to torture me the way you do. You’re right: I don’t deserve any of the experiments you put me through, and I sure as hell don’t deserve the punishments that I get for being myself. And the shittiest part of all of this is that, even though you’re a horrible person, I still can’t bring myself to leave.” You laughed, tears welling up and blurring your vision, unable to bite back the feelings you had kept bottled up for so long.

“That’s so fucked up, isn’t it? That after how much shit you put me through, I still want you to like me. Some part of me believes you’d stop hurting me if I just bend over backwards to make you happy, that if I walk on eggshells long enough, you’ll see me as a human being. As a person–as an individual. Someone you can’t toy with and boss around. God, I hate this. I hate you, but the stupidest part of me loves you.

“I don’t want to feel this anymore. I want to be happy, and I know I sure as hell won’t feel that way if I stay here with you. I have to leave, whether you like it or not.” You stood then, ready for her to bolt up and scream at you that you needed to remember your place around her. Instead, she laughed, a deep bellow that slowly quieted down. Once more, she stared down at the floor beneath her. “I know. I saw this coming. You should probably leave now. The reality of this hasn’t kicked in for me yet, but once it does, I know I’ll only hurt you. Leave me, break me, and go live with Allison and Tom.”

You scoffed. There was no possible way she was still trying to guilt-trip you, was there? But you knew her better. She was absolutely trying to do so.

You weren’t going to fall for it any longer.

You stepped closer, leaning down to let your face rest dangerously close to her own.

“Rot in hell,” you snarled, matching the same tone she had always used when speaking down to you as though you were a mindless child.

Alice grinned and watched as you fled from the room in an instant. She sighed heavily. Already, the fury and possessiveness she had grown accustomed to began to bubble its way to the surface. Her blood lit ablaze throughout her veins, only being stifled by her nails digging painfully into her thigh and drawing blood.

In truth, she genuinely had seen this coming. All throughout the time you had shared, she knew what she was doing to you was horrendous, and she knew you’d find the courage to leave one day. There would always be a part of her that wanted to keep you chained by her side and selfishly save you for herself, but she had to disregard it for you.

As vile as what she had done, she loved you. Yet, just as she had done all her life, she had pushed the very thing keeping her alive away.

You were leaving, and this time you wouldn’t return.

She deserved to rot in hell, as you had put it.

You deserved to join others who would treat you the way you truly deserved.

You were leaving.

She would be alone all over again.

You were never coming home.

Far away, down the hall and past each room, the front door slammed shut.

Stay

[Five Nights at Freddy's] Vanessa Shelly x Female Reader

Summary: When you threaten to leave after the relationship gets rocky, Vanessa begs you to stay.

Word Count: 2.79k Content Warnings: An argument, fear of abandonment Category: Heavy Angst + Slight Fluff || Oneshot / Preference

[A/N]: None of my stories are fully proofread, so apologies for any typos or weird pacing. I'll be answering requests very soon!

Enjoy!

From across the room, you were able to hear the sound of the TV remote slamming down against the coffee table resting a few feet in front of the sofa. When you turned to find the source of the noise, already grimacing, you were met with Vanessa glaring back at you, her eyes narrowed as she stood. A quick breath forced through your lips as you mentally readied yourself for yet another argument you knew you couldn’t prevent. Slowly, Vanessa seemed to skulk forward, though she quickened her pace briefly until she stood before you.

Her arm flew forward to allow her finger to plunge against your chest in accusation, her other hand balled up tightly into a fist at her side to stifle her trembling. All you could do was stare up at her with your lips pressed tightly shut. By then, you knew you weren’t going to win the fight. Ever since her father had shown up again and began to make her night shifts hell, her temper had only shortened further with each hour spent in his presence. Deep down, you knew she didn’t mean to take it out on you. She knew none of it was your fault. Still, it didn’t seem to cause her fury to falter.

She had only gotten home from another shift a few moments prior, and upon spotting you curled up on the couch, she joined you and clicked on the TV, unaware of the way your eyes drooped with fatigue and how you tugged the blanket tightly against yourself when she sat down. You shuffled further against the armrest and groaned at the sudden noise now blaring throughout the room, combined with the brightness of the screen that seemed to burn past your eyelids, disturbing the sleep you so desperately craved.

Confused at your discomfort, Vanessa scooted toward you and softly placed her hand against your leg. With a gentle squeeze to gain your attention, she asked if you were alright. When greeted with grumbles as a response, she could already feel her irritation beginning to bubble up beneath her skin, though she did her best to bite it back.

After a few moments of her prodding for a proper answer, you finally sat up and threw the blanket down on the floor as you stood. You glanced down at her, hardly giving her any attention before shifting around the coffee table to head through the kitchen and into the bedroom. Just as your steps had crossed the threshold, you had heard the remote clatter against the wooden surface you had swerved around, then only turned for a moment before she was in front of you.

She continued to seethe and scowl at you as you simply stayed still and silent. Trying to get a rise out of you, the palm of her hand lightly pushed you back, daring you to snap back at her. Even as she continued to bark insults at you, you managed to steady your mind enough to keep a calm tone. She didn’t mean to start the fight, you knew that, but it didn’t make it any less painful. It would end the same way as always, you were sure. Once she got it out of her system, she would apologize profusely while begging for your forgiveness, only to end up tugging you to the couch or bed to huddle up together and fall asleep.

A silent way to make amends just long enough to forget about it all.

Though you never really forgot. Each screaming match managed to seep into your brain more and more, and each one only brought you closer to tears every time she raised her voice. While she was at work, you were often left sobbing to yourself in bed, recalling the way she’d stare at you and throw accusations at your face. You were never entirely sure if you were in the right or wrong, but you knew it wasn’t right either way.

You didn’t deserve it. No matter how difficult times were for her, you didn’t deserve the constant verbal and emotional torment. When she would leave for her shift, anyone would find you sitting with your nose buried into your laptop once you finished crying. You had started trying to find a couples counselor who would hopefully help bring things together again. Once you found one, you started to think of ways to bring it up to Vanessa, worried she would only start another screaming match again.

As your gaze bored up at her, eyes glazed over with the tears you refused to let fall, it was evident she was only growing more furious when she got no reaction out of you. It seemed she hadn’t even registered the way you shook, or the way your breaths had begun to stutter, or how your fingers had curled into your shirt to clutch at the fabric.

She only continued her barrage of obscene terms directed solely toward you.

You parted your lips once her rant of how you were only bringing her more grief had begun to fizzle out, ready to try and deescalate what had been inevitable the moment she walked through the front door and tossed down her coat. Before the words could leave you, she growled out a few curses before pushing you backward once more.

“God, I wish I had never even met you,” she snarled from merely an inch away from your face.

It only took a second for her features to contort with horror. It was as if she had only just realized how cruel her words had been, finally taking notice of your pained expression as the tears finally sprung free. Your bottom lip shivered as you bit back the sobs. Your head hung heavy in defeat, salty tears trickling down your face and dripping onto the floorboards beneath you while your sorrow grew.

A soft murmur of your name brought you back to your senses after several agonizingly quiet minutes passed. You couldn’t meet her eye, even as she cupped your face and tilted your head upward. With a sniffle, you lifted your hand up far enough to brush hers away, and slowly, you stumbled backward into the kitchen. Resting there by the pantry against the wall, you slipped your keys from their hook and pocketed them.

Upon seeing you striding urgently toward the front door, Vanessa rushed by your side and took hold of your arm. In an attempt to steady her shaky hands, her nails dug into your skin. As gently as she could, she tugged you back toward her, a silent plea to stop.

“Please, don’t go,” she whimpered, a broken cry erupting from her throat. “Please, I don’t want you to leave. I’m so sorry – I’ll do anything you want to make it up to you, I promise. I just can’t lose you. Not like this.” Only for a brief second, you forced yourself to look up from the floor and glare at her. You were able to see the tears streaming down her face, brows pinched tightly together while she squinted, desperately trying to adjust to her blurry vision.

“Stay,” she whispered much softer.

Unable to form the right words, you simply stared at her until you managed to wriggle free from her grasp. Wordlessly, you flipped the locks bolted into the door and tugged it open. It took everything in you not to slam it on your way out.

It flew open again as you unlocked your car and pulled it open to slip inside. Vanessa raced down the steps of the porch to your side, her hand clasping the side of the door to prevent you from shutting it on her. Yet again, pleas poured from her lips, promises of making things right rolling off her tongue in despair. You stayed silent, then motioned for her to move. Once she did, you clutched the handle of the door, then yanked it shut.

When you lowered your eyes to shove the keys into ignition and flick the engine to life, part of you couldn’t help but wonder how things would be if you hadn’t met her the way she claimed she wanted. Your foot released the brake, and the car began to ease backward out of the driveway. Against your will, your eyes tore away from the wheel up at her. She stood there in the now empty plot of the concrete you had drifted away from, arms crossed to let her hands clench her sleeves between her fingers, gaze still trained on you as she watched you pull away.

Your heart throbbed at the sight, and you could feel the tears welling up again.

You backed into the street and drove away.

Vanessa wobbled in place as she watched the shape of your car disappear in the distance, unable to make out anything clearly as her tears continued to distort her view of the world. She waited, praying you’d turn the car around and hear her out. None of this was what she had wanted. She hadn’t meant to pick another fight, things had just been hectic. Still, there was no reason for her to make her stress your problem, she knew, yet she caused everything anyway.

An hour must’ve passed by the time she realized you wouldn’t be returning anytime soon. Shaky legs carried her back up the steps and into the house. Trudging, she managed to land on the couch before she could fully collapse. Her hands dug into the cushions as she pushed herself into the corner you had been in just before she decided to strike up another war of words.

With the little strength she still had, her arm dropped from the cushions to grab your blanket from the floor and lifted it to wrap around herself. Cool leather met her temple as she leaned against the back of the sofa and shuffled to cover her face with the soft fabric of your blanket, the ability to pick up the smell of your favorite shampoo and perfume on it bringing a very small sense of comfort. Drowsiness began to wash over her senses, nearly stopping her from looking over at the remote she had slammed onto the table, noticing how the force alone had broken the back open.

At the sight of it, her mind wandered back to the fear in your eyes when she had stormed over to you right after. Her lips pulled themselves into a grimace at the thought. To no avail, she wiped at her eyes to dry them, only for them to grow wet again. She should’ve stopped herself. You had been so tired, and all you wanted to do was rest on the couch while you waited for her to get home. All day, she had looked forward to making it home and asking about your day, excited to know you’d ask her right away how her own had been.

However, it seemed she just had to ruin the only time of bliss she would have in between shifts. You were pure comfort to her, and she adored every little thing about you. Her favorite time of the day was when she got to come home to you and spend the rest of the day or night relaxing by your side.

As she sat there on that couch, she couldn’t bite back the whimpers that escaped her when the realization began to dawn on her that she might never get to feel that spark of joy again.

She wouldn’t have you there to greet her at the door and help her strip away her uniform and slip into something more comfortable.

You wouldn’t be there in the kitchen making one of your favorite desserts, or standing there for her to sneak up behind and hug you against her front as she peppered your skin with kisses and asked about your day.

There would be no more late-night cuddle-sessions in bed with you excitedly chattering away about the latest show you had convinced her to watch with you, nor would there be any more mornings where she got to wake up to the sight of you still by her side.

More realizations of what she would lose rushed through her mind and blocked out every other problem she had. She wept and buried her face further into the blanket draped around her shoulders.

At length, she could feel her head pounding and her eyes drooping heavily with exhaustion. All too soon, she found she was too tired to cry, and she let her eyes flutter shut. She wasn’t sure when it happened, but ultimately, she dozed off.

The sound of keys clattering outside followed by the lock on the door clicking woke her up. Her head lifted from her arms, allowing her to blearily look around to regain her bearings. The doorknob rattled, bringing her attention to it and helping her understand the noise. Quickly, she tossed the blanket aside and stood from her spot on the sofa, eyes trained expectantly on the entrance while her heart hammered painfully against her ribs.

Wave after wave of relief crashed over her once she made out your frame in the doorway, meeting your eye as you stepped in and shut the door silently behind you. Afraid of startling you or stepping out of bounds, Vanessa remained planted in her spot. When you stepped closer to her and sat down on the opposite end of the couch, she followed suit and sat back where she had slept shortly before. You kept your eyes on the floorboards, and she mirrored you. Her mind screamed at her to say something – anything at all – but no words formed on her tongue.

As her eyes tore away from the teardrops she left on the wood ground, her heart leapt in her chest when she noticed you staring back at her.

When her name sprung from your lips so softly, she couldn’t stop herself from whimpering with another choked cry. She cleared her throat immediately after and nodded to prove you had her attention. She feared she’d only start sobbing if she tried to speak at that moment.

“Look,” you started quietly. “I don’t want to leave you, okay? But I also don’t want to have to live with the constant fear that you and I are going to keep fighting every single day about the smallest things. I know you’re going through a lot right now, but that doesn’t give you the right to treat me so badly. I’m trying so hard to be here for you, Vanessa, but you’ve been making it so hard lately. It feels like you don’t love me anymore. All we do is fight.”

Her heart throbbed and shattered at the mention of you no longer feeling you were valued by her. It was so far from the truth. She admired and adored you so deeply, and she could never find any reason to genuinely hate you. You were everything to her, and it broke her heart to hear you confess your worry that she had fallen out of love with you. She could never fall out of love with you.

Cautiously, she watched you for any sign of discomfort as she slid close enough to cup your hand into hers. “I promise I’ll do anything to show you how much I care. I love you so much, I really do. No matter what it takes, I’ll make things right. Just tell me what you need me to do.”

Your eyes flickered across her face in search of a lie, though a sigh slipped out when you found none, a curt nod of the head as your response. “All I can think of to do right now is to try counseling.” Already, you could see the hesitation building up in her. “We don’t have to go into detail about what happened with your dad, but I need you to start working things out with me. Otherwise, I can’t picture myself doing this anymore.”

A long pause greeted the end of your words.

“You promise we don’t have to talk too much about him?”

A nod.

“I promise.”

Reassuringly, her warm hands squeezed yours and she shuffled closer to tug you into her arms. “I’ll do it. I want this to work out – I love you – I can’t lose you. If you’re sure counseling would be a good first step, then I’ll do it. We’ll work through this together, okay?” She leaned back to look at you and gauge your reaction. Her tensed shoulders drooped from the solace sent her way upon seeing your lips finally perk up into a small smile. Her own curved into a mirrored grin when you nodded.

“Okay.”

I don't know if it's just me but I want Steve to have golden/gifted child syndrome . Like thing about it, he falls far from grace joyfully so. However even then the party doesn't understand his thought process. " be useful, be perfect and then you'll be loveable " so when he and Ed's start dating hellfire is the worst place for Steve . With them doubting Steve's ability to be human ( king Steve, not really loving Eddie, etc) and even then they only tolerate him because of Eddie and his cooking. Add on the fact that the party keeps calling him stupid . Steve would be emotionally crushed .so when a big moment happens were Steve needs Eddie because it's gotten so bad to a degree of not being able to mentally take care of himself . So Eddie loving Steve to death tells the hellfire and party to stay away from steve for a few .

There will be a part two

Edit :go check out @steddierthings work because they have a better similar premise to gifted child Steve

Part two to golden / gifted child Steve

Dustin and Robin are the only ones that try to get Eddie to explain what's going on but unfortunately he dosen't even know. But load and behold Steve is spiraling

Not mentally strong. Even those close to him has spoken about his horrible flaws. Robin and the kids calling him stupid, them not needing rides hellfire still doing the most to just tolerate him.

And in that time frame Eddie is staring to get worried he can't calm Steve into telling him what's wrong . So as weeks go by Steve is forcing himself to be useful again trying not to be a disgrace. Cuz his place is the needed friend , the mom friend , the friend that people point to talk mad crap about to make them feel better. Unfortunately though hellfire has a campaign and Eddie not understanding what's going on holds the meeting at Steve's . Which makes Steve super uncomfortable and as the campaign goes on Steve does small things to keep himself from needing Eddie. Which hellfire starts to notice saying words like he's so extra , why are we here again and so forth causing Steve to visit Robin.

@lolawonsstuff

@devondespresso

@nburkhardt

There will be a part three but I need time to figure out the rest of the story

Farewell My love

·˚ ◌༘₊· ͟͞꒰➳Lee Heeseung x Reader GENRE! Pure Angst〘WC: 567〙 『 ↳✧･ﾟ Warnings ; Major Character Death ↳˳;; ❝ ʙᴏᴏᴋꜱʜᴇʟꜰᵕ̈೫˚∗ ･: *:･ﾟ★ MOON 💭This one-shot is inspired by Mr Loverman-Ricky Montgomery

The hospital room was quiet, broken only by the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor. Heeseung sat still by (Name)'s bedside, his fingers intertwined with hers, his gaze never leaving her pale face. The car crash had snatched away their future, leaving behind shattered dreams and a heart-wrenching farewell that neither of them had been prepared for.

"(Name)," Heeseung whispered, his voice cracking with sorrow as he leaned closer to her fragile form. Her eyelids fluttered open weakly, and a faint smile graced her lips, though her eyes reflected the pain she endured. More Under Cut

But you're cracking up, You're cracking up

"Heeseung..." (Name)'s voice was barely a whisper, yet it quivered with a depth of love that transcended words. "I'm sorry... I have to leave you."

"Don't say that," Heeseung pleaded, his heart cracking with each passing second. "Please, don't leave me. I can't live without you."

(Name)'s hand trembled in his grasp as she mustered all her remaining strength. "Our time together... it was a gift," she murmured, her voice barely audible amidst the hum of medical equipment. "Remember our love, Heeseung. It will always be a part of you."

The ways that you say my name, Have me runnin' on and on

Tears streamed down Heeseung's cheeks as he pressed his forehead against hers, his pain consuming him. "I love you, (Name)," he choked out, his voice thick with emotion. "You're my everything."

The heart monitor beeped steadily, a fragile lifeline that seemed to stretch out the inevitable. But then, as if echoing Heeseung's agony, the rhythm faltered. The beeps became erratic, each one a painful reminder of the fragility of life. Heeseung's grip on (Name)'s hand tightened instinctively, his heart constricting with fear.

"No, (Name), please," he pleaded desperately, his voice raw with grief. "Stay with me."

I've shattered now, I'm spilling out

(Name)'s gaze locked with his, a silent farewell etched in her eyes. The heart monitor's steady beeps slowed, faltered, and then, with a final, gentle beep, fell silent.

Heeseung's world shattered at that moment. He clung to (Name's) lifeless hand as sobs wracked his body, his grief overflowing in waves of anguish. He had lost her — his love, his everything. The reality of her absence settled in like a heavy stone, crushing him with its unbearable weight.

I'm reeling in my brain again

Hours passed in the quiet of the hospital room, the only sound of Heeseung's quiet murmurs of love and regret to (Names)'s still form. He knew he had to let her go, to begin the painful journey of living without her. But in that moment, all he could do was hold her hand and mourn the life they had lost together.

As dawn broke outside the hospital window, Heeseung finally rose from (Name)'s bedside. He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering in a final goodbye. With a heavy heart, he turned away, carrying the weight of her absence with him.

Oh, what am I supposed to do without you?

"Farewell, my love," Heeseung whispered into the stillness of the room, his voice filled with a love that would endure beyond the boundaries of time and space.

And so, with the memory of (Name)'s love etched into his soul, Heeseung stepped into a world forever changed by her absence, yet forever illuminated by the love they had shared.

I'm Mr. Loverman

And I miss my lover

© moon3v3rland— all rights reserved to me. please do not copy in any way steal my work.