#I chose my angst | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

only10th · 9 days

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Thinking how… an alternative to after the nightless city massacre, wwx wasn’t as catatonic and he was aware that lwj was there but kept thinking it was a mirage. Lwj confessing his feelings and wwx just starts crying, sobbing and laughing.

“Ah… Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan… I wish you would’ve told me sooner. It’s too late. You’re too late. You’re too late, you’re too late—“

“Wei Ying—!”

“You’re too late, Lan Zhan. I wish you would’ve told me.” At this point wwx hysterical, “There’s nothing left to love, there’s nothing left. You’re too late… Lan Zhan… I wish you were here… I’ve loved you since…”

“Wei Ying… I’m here. I’m here, please… look at me.” LWJ voice breaks as he caresses the man’s face, finding nothing but the sharpness at the lack of mass. “Come back to Gusu with me. I… I am begging you…”

Wwx shakes his head, tears still streaming freely down his cheeks. “I loved you so much… it’s too late now… you’re too late. Hah, you were right… all this time. I couldn’t control it. I couldn’t… now look what I’ve done… How stupid and arrogant of me, to let myself want to survive… I should’ve d-died when I was tossed in the Burial Mounds—“ a laugh full of hysteria bursts out of his chest, a hunted version of the laugh LWJ had come to love. “I should’ve died… no one would’ve missed me…”

“That’s not true—!” LWJ insists, holding his face more firmly, dull silver eyes looking at him. The instantly shatter, wwx shaking his head violently.

“Shut up… just shut up. Shut up shut up shut up!” Wwx screams, attempting to push the other man away. “Every time… e-every time you use his face! Haven’t you taken enough from me…?!”

Wwx finally manages to shove a stunned Lwj away from him, hands instantly flying up to cover his ears. “Stop taking his face… stop using his voice… you think I don’t know?! Why would Lan Zhan be here! Stop it stop it stop it stop it! I can’t take it anymore I can’t take it! Please, just get lost! Leave me alone, please!”

The sobs wrenching from his chest make the Lan cultivator fall to his knees, but not without pulling the love of his life in a tight embrace. He wouldn’t run away, not anymore. He knew where he belonged… so he held him tighter, the earth shattering wails growing louder the more he begged for death.

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #wei ying #wei wuxian #lan zhan #lan wangji #wangxian #nightless city #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #angst #my writing #clearly I chose violence this morning #yiling laozu #yiling patriarch

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purplepixel · 3 months

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#24 just breathe for rise disaster twins for the drawing prompt thing? :)

#24 Just breathe + Leo and Donnie

I had too much fun with the color

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rileyclaw · 2 years

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first friend, final protector.

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laiamadej · 1 month

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Singer/rapper au bro so nice.

Also, rairai to me is either making song like Noah kahan or vacations. Idk man i listen to so many of them😭 RINI maybe? DJO?? Yea never mind lmao. Let's just say he makes pop song lmao

AND trying new brush AGAIN!

#mk1 #railao #raiden mk1 #kung lao #rai just simply being the greenest flag that he is #and lao prob like #'ugh' when they first met idk #sorry i have so so many au in my head #but also canon au but heavy angst lol #i chose happy #for now

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bri-cheeses · 2 months

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Evan’s busy reaching across the bar for a couple of drinks, arm outstretched and easy smile on his face, when Regulus walks up next to him.

“Two butterbeers, please,” Regulus nods to the bartender.

Evan turns his head in surprise, clearly not expecting to have been followed. “I was getting you guys drinks, you know. You didn’t have to get up.”

“Yeah, I know. But I needed a bit of a break from all… that.” Regulus tilts his head towards a booth in the corner, indicating the chaos currently taking place there. He’s just escaped the aftermath of Barty attempting to flirt with Remus just to make Sirius mad, which has not ended well. Just like Barty intended. Honestly, Regulus doesn’t know why he puts up with him.

Regulus opens his mouth to continue, feeling somewhat hesitant. He’s not sure how Evan will react to what he’s about say, but he’s going to try anyways. “And also because I wanted to ask you something in private. Or at least, away from them.”

“Hold on,” Evan replies. The bartender’s just handed him his drinks, and he’s trying to find a way to carry them. “Okay, carry on.”

Regulus doesn’t waste any time. “You’re in love with Barty.”

Evan doesn’t look up from the drinks, not giving Regulus’s accusation even a slight reaction. “That wasn’t much of a question, Reg.”

If Regulus didn’t know better, he’d say Evan was completely unbothered by this whole situation. But he does know better, and Evan’s completely straight face as he fiddles with the glasses is a dead giveaway.

“You’re not going to deny it?” He’s genuinely curious. It’s unlike Evan to not, at the very least, try to avoid answering directly.

“Why would I? It’s the truth, and I know you’re not going to tell him.”

“But you’re not really the type of person to be okay with… sharing this sort of thing.”

Evan looks up now, small smile making its way to his face. “No, I’m usually not. But honestly it’s been going on so long that it’s more trouble than it’s worth to keep it hidden. From you, at least.”

“I—” he pauses, not entirely sure what to do with that. “How long has this been a thing?”

“Oh, about…” Evan squints, as if he can look back in time and pinpoint the exact moment it started. “Five years now?”

“Five years?”

“Don’t sound so surprised, Reg.”

“Why shouldn’t I?”

“Because it’s really not that out of character for me.”

Evan flashes another smile and makes to leave, but Regulus blurts out, “Why haven’t you done anything about it? If it’s been so long?”

Evan glances over at their booth. Regulus follows his gaze, where Barty is now gesturing wildly with his hands in what is probably an attempt to avoid death at Sirius’s hands.

“Because,” Evan says, still looking at Barty, “it would ruin our relationship.”

He sounds so resigned to the fact that Regulus’s heart clenches. He feels like a bad friend. He had no idea, absolutely none, that Evan had been feeling this way for such a long time. “You can’t know that.”

Evan looks back at him, amused expression on his face as he asks, “Can’t I? It’s Barty; even if he did feel the same way—which he doesn’t—he would never be able to let himself commit to a relationship. The fear and discomfort would eat him alive. You know that.”

Regulus does, in fact, know that. But it doesn’t stop him from wanting to fix this, somehow. From wanting to try to get Evan to fight for a chance, at the very least. “But you’re Evan. There used to be be bets about when you guys would finally sort out your shit and start going out.”

Evan blinks, clearly not having known that.

“And it wasn’t because people knew you were in love with him—hell, I didn’t even know that—it was because of the way you both look at and act around each other. And I know that you’re too smart to have not noticed any of that, Evan.”

“Well. Maybe. But that’s also just who he is. He looks at practically everyone like that, acts like that with everyone. So you can stand there and tell me that I’m special, but I’m always going to see that for what it is. A lie, Regulus. And I don’t need you to lie to me. This whole thing is already bad enough already, I don’t need you adding to it, too.”

“But—”

“Don’t, Regulus. Just don’t.”

Regulus changes tactics. “How can you stand it?”

Evan gives a sad smile. “Like you said; I’m Evan. I’m always going to be in love with him, no matter what he does, really. And he’s Barty, so he’s going to do a lot of shit. But that’s just the way things are, I suppose.”

“So you’re just going to let him shatter your heart and stomp all over it?”

Evan smiles bitterly. “He’s been doing that for years, Reg. You’re a bit late to the game.”

Regulus hates this, hates Evan’s defeated tone and tired eyes. “How are you just so calm about this? Don’t you hate it?”

Evan considers that. “I did, for a while. I spent a long, long time hating it. But it only cost me energy I couldn’t afford to lose, and it didn’t change anything in the end.”

And there’s not a lot Regulus can say in response to that, so instead he eyes Evan: the regretful smile, the sad slump of his shoulders, and the way his body is subconsciously turned towards Barty, even now. “Are you… going to be okay?”

“Of course, Reg, why would you even ask?” He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “This is just the hand life has dealt me. I’m used to it by now. You might as well get used to it, too. Nothing’s going to change between Barty and me.”

And with that, he shoulders past Regulus, drinks in hand. And Regulus watches him go, unable to unsee how painfully in love Evan is. He watches the way Barty’s entire face lights up when he sees Evan, he watches the soft smile Evan gives Barty in return, and he prays to anyone who’s listening that Evan will turn out to be wrong.

#rosekiller #evan rosier #barty crouch jr #regulus black #slytherin skittles #marauders #i woke up and chose angst today idk #also wolfstar my loves <33 #Barty definitely would flirt with Moony just to make Sirius mad lol #poor evan #rosekiller microfic #my microfics

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fryingtimes · 7 months

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Broke: Pol and Slime can't log in because the admins are developing the storyline for island lore

Woke: Pol and Slime can't log in because the admins are developing the storyline for their ROMANCE

#all im saying is they had a connection #i am a slimariana supporter to my core. that being said i think it would be quite the plot twist.#slimariana angst bc slime chose someone else and pol angst bc my man does not want to be a father and now he's got two egg children #qsmp #slimepol

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artpikuuhnah · 2 months

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In his eyes, he can still see Oda dancing with him as they always would, the only thing that is missing is the scent of fresh burnt cigarrettes and the warmth of his embrace.

#bsd #odazai #odasaku x dazai #my art #do not repost #literary stray dogs #dazai osamu #oda sakunosuke #bungo stray dogs #bungosd #digital art #i am not sorry #violence and angst chose me

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darlingicarus · 6 months

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making myself cry by imagining an ending where johnny gets his own body, but v still only has six months to live

the bliss they’d feel immediately after. cuddling together, kissing, just being next to each other. solid and there and warm

and then everything goes downhill when v’s health starts to catch up to them. still getting relic attacks and they’re getting more and more frequent. johnny stills there, by v’s side, being there for them as much as he can, no matter how much it pains him to see v in pain

the six month mark hits - johnny and v don’t know when it’ll happen, just that it will. they spend most days in bed, johnny just holding v for as long as he can, afraid for the day he won’t be able to anymore.

and then it happens, v’s gone. there was nothing he could do stop it, and it’s so painful. v saved johnny’s life and he couldn’t even save theirs is something he thinks about often now. he never takes off the bullet necklace, he never forgets about v

#i am SOBBING #i chose pain and angst today #silverv #cp2077 #cyberpunk 2077 #johnny silverhand #v #johnny silverhand x v #my writing

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snowthatareblack · 4 months

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he says, even though when we die in the second ending, he's on the floor carrying our lifeless body, crying his heart out, as his tears stream down his face and drip onto the floor where our body used to be, but is now gone without a trace like a ghost.

#yes i'm a writer #haha detailed angst i chose you!#no writer's block has been on my ass since the beginning of time so all this “talent” has been stored... s o m e w h e r e #yes I've been aggressively pumping out posts about Casper and A Date with Death because i love our babygirl too much #yes whenever i screenshot him or picture him (or both) i always include his whole hand and fingers cause yes #yes yes yes #a date with death #a date with death casper #adwd casper #a date with death grim #adwd grim #a date with death vn #casper a date with death #i legit just posted a couple of seconds ago now here's another one

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strangersteddierthings · 10 months

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Steve, Gareth and Chrissy are cousins AU (sad edition) [prologue] [part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Final Part]

"So," Dustin starts as he falls into step with Gareth, "you were pretty interested in Steve's whereabouts earlier. What's up with that?"

Gareth debates not answering at all. Just ignoring Dustin until he jogged to catch back up to Lucas and Max. That's rude, though, and he has no reason to be rude to Dustin. The thing he has to decide is how honest is he going be? "Just thought he'd be at Chrissy's funeral and he wasn't."

"I wasn't either, but you didn't shove me."

"Should I shove you now to make up for it?"

Dustin glares at him before it morphs into a frown and he mutters, more to himself than Gareth, "the storm comes, and now all friends should gather together, lest each singly be destroyed."

"What- are you quoting Lord of the Rings to me? That's-"

"What, no, I'm quoting it to myself. Were Steve and you friends once?"

This kid is way to observant. Truth it is. "Uh, yeah. But also, he's my cousin."

Dustin processes this, if the silence that follows is anything to go by. "Wait. Like your cousin but- on whose side?"

"If you're asking if Chrissy is -was- also his cousin, the answer's yes. My dad, Chrissy's dad, and Steve's mom are siblings," Gareth spells it out, and hears a gasp from ahead of them. Looking forward reveals the distance between their two little groups has vanished, as Lucas and Max are mere steps away and stopped. Eavesdropping, apparently. Max whips around to look at him with the first expression he's seen on her face since they met at Skull Rock. He's a little impressed that she can look pissed off and concerned at the same time.

"Are you telling the truth?" she demands.

"Why would I lie?" Gareth says. "Ask Steve after we rescue him if you don't believe me."

The kids exchange looks that he can't decipher. Max jams the headphones back onto her head and turns on her heel, marching onward. The three boys have no choice but to follow.

"You've been worried for Eddie and Steve, haven't you?" Lucas asks.

"Yeah," Gareth says truthfully. He's been on just this side of freaked the fuck out since yesterday, but learning his best friend and his cousin were in the alternate dimension has done nothing to calm that. He's going to strangle them both when he sees them again. For stressing him out this much.

Steve has never been happier to see Dustin than he is now, standing in the Upside Down version of the Munson trailer, looking down at him. Up at him? He doesn't want to think on that too much.

The kids haul Eddie's mattress from his room to below the gate and make a rope of sheets, and soon enough Eddie is volunteering to go first. Steve watches, almost afraid that this easy escape is almost too easy, but Eddie lands on his mattress, looking startled before a wide smile breaks across his face. Eddie should smile more. Happy is a good look on him.

Before Steve can really have to process that thought, Gareth is helping Eddie up and Robin is asking for Steve's assistance to go next.

He watches her land before turning to Nancy. "You're turn."

Nancy's got a look on her face Steve hasn't seen in a long time. It's mischievous, almost teasing. She hasn't looked at him like that since before Barb died. "Steve Harrington. Who would have thought?"

"What?" Steve asks, confused.

"Eddie says one nice thing to you and you can't take your eyes off him?" Nancy says, using the same fake tone of surprise and shock that Carol used to use when she was making fun of someone.

"I don't know what you're talking about but we gotta go. Come on," he gestures for her to step closer, but she just smiles, almost too wide.

"Don't think I didn't notice," Eddie shouts from above him. Steve whips his head back to look up. Eddie, Robin, Dustin, Lucas, Max, and Gareth are standing in a circle around the sheet rope, all looking up at him. "You kept looking down at my lips, like you couldn't believe the words I was saying."

"Sure. Or another, less platonic reason," Robin wiggles her eyebrows at him.

"Is this really the time for any sort of conversation?" Steve asks, incredulously. "The heckling can wait until we're back on the right side."

"Was all the shit about trying to warn me to stay away from Eddie so you could stare without consequences? Didn't want a witness to your crime?" Gareth's voice comes out cruel. "Is that why it was so easy to toss me and Chrissy aside? You thought if we weren't close enough, we wouldn't see the cracks in your foundation?"

"Steve. Steve!" Nancy's shouting grabs everyone's attention, and Gareth scrambles to look up at what is happening. Nancy has her hands on Steve's shoulders, shaking him as he just stands there.

"What's-" Gareth starts to ask but Robin cuts him off.

"Music! Eddie, do you have Tears for Fears!?"

Eddie looks insulted at being asked but that quickly gives way to fear. He takes off to his room, Robin and the kids quick on his heel but Gareth stays. He doesn't understand why they need music. Not that he could take his eyes off Steve anyway. "Is Steve- What is happening?"

Nancy looks down (up?) at him, and says, "It's Vecna's curse. Music can reach part of your mind that other things can't. It helps pull you back, away from Vecna."

"Steve is- like what happened with Chrissy?" Gareth asks, unable to keep the rising fear and panic from his voice.

It looks like it pains Nancy to say, "Yes."

Steve isn't in the trailer anymore. Instead, he's watching as four gates spread and tear Hawkins apart, devouring the town building by building, slowly creepy towards him but he can't seem to bring himself to move.

"Just one more gate, Steve Harrington."

Steve blinks and he's not looking at the destruction of Hawkins anymore. In front of him is a monster.

"I could have picked you. Instead of Chrissy. Instead of Maxine. But I think I have a better use of you."

"I'm not doing shit for you," Steve spits with more bravado than he actually feels.

The monster, who can only be Vecna, just twists his lip up in a disgusting grin before Steve finds himself rapidly closing in until Vecna is inches from his face. "You will tell Eleven that I am coming for her. You will live to deliver this message. In return, I will let you choose."

"Choose what?"

"I will take one more life for my gates. It can be Maxine, or another."

"Me. Leave Max alone!" Steve screams in his face, fights against the force holding him hostage. He wants so bad to swing his fist into Vecna's stupid face.

"No. No. I took one cousin from you, and now you've only one family member left to might care that you exist at all, Steve. I took Chrissy, and now, perhaps, I'll take the other cousin, too. Gareth."

"If you even try-"

"Maxine or Gareth. Which means more to you? Who would you sacrifice to save the other? I think I know. Or, if you cannot choose, I can take both."

Everyone watches as Steve drops like a stone to his knees, hands shooting out to stop his decent further. It takes a second for that to sink in. That he's not dead.

Gareth almost cries over it. All his anger at Steve, the resentment, fades into nothing but relief. It feels so stupid to hold a grudge suddenly. What does he gain from being mad at Steve? For something he originally asked for? He told Steve, and Chrissy, to pretend to not know him. He can't be mad that Steve did that, even after graduating. Gareth never took back his request! How was Steve to know he didn't care about that anymore?

And now that Steve could have- that Vecna tried to- it just seems stupid.

There's more fussing and fretting but eventually Nancy and Steve drop onto the mattress and everyone crowds Steve.

Gareth waits just a few minutes before he bully he's was in. He takes Dustin by the back of his shirt, like Eddie does all the time, and drags him bodily backwards. Dustin fights for all of four seconds, until he turns to see who's moving him, then he lets himself be moved. All the kids take a step back, give him room.

Steve meets his eye and he looks so haunted. So hurt. Steve opens his mouth but Gareth beats him to speaking.

"I'm sorry. God, I'm so sorry," he says, then launches himself at Steve. Steve catches him easily and hugs him back almost too tightly.

In a barely perceptible whisper, Steve says, "I'm sorry, too."

Later, much later, Steve sneaks out to get some fresh air. He doesn't go far from Max's home, just around the back into the dark, hidden from the street lamps.

He lets himself break down, for just a moment, where no one can see and keeps his sobs silent so no one will hear.

He's going to hate himself for the rest of his life. Because Vecna told him to choose, and God help him.

He had.

#steve‚ gareth‚ and chrissy are cousins au #my fic #idr if the kids biked or walked to eddies so here they walked #also idr what was in nancys vision so steve gets this version of one with added angst #because vecna wasn't cruel enough i think #speaking of steve #who do YOU think he chose?#would love to know your guesses (:

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dirtytransmasc · 9 months

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[mild tw for marital rape/forced 'consent' its only referenced a little, but it feels necessary to mention it]

imagine Alicent only standing up for herself when Aegon is in the picture. Imagine her talking her son to her chambers cause he's fussy and won't go down for bed and was asking for his mum, and she has him tucked close, blissfully asleep, and Viserys calls for her.

she knows she can't refuse, but she tells the servant he had sent to make him aware of Aegon's state. he still demands that she be brought to his chambers and that the babe go back to his nursemaid. she looks down at her baby, who's now woken due to the disturbance, who is staring up at her with soft tired eyes, a little yawn escaping him.

she doesn't want to go, she doesn't want to be forced to take her husband, to pleasure him at her own discomfort. she doesn't want to leave her son, to have him sent back to bed where he will remain restless and in the care of someone who is not his mother. she had never want to refuse more than she did in that moment.

she hesitates, her facade falters. Aegon is still looking up at her as tears well up in her eyes. he quirks his head at her, fingers reaching for her cheeks as if to comfort her. with a sudden conviction, she takes him in her arms, rising from the bed, requesting a robe and a blanket. when her servant looks at her in question, she clarifies that she will be taking Aegon with her and does not wish to rouse him in attempts to dress him. they look at her with shock, but don't voice the concern written on their faces.

they bring her Viserys's favorite robe. Alicent recognizes it from her time with Rhaenyra and Aemma. she's worn it before, Viserys has made sure the servants bring it to her every time he requests her. she hates the way it feels against her skin, knowing why he makes her wear it. she wraps aegon in his blanket, soft and royal blue, his hands beginning to play with its golden tassles as she tucks him inside her robe, pressed to her chest with care.

even as fear bites at her heels, anxiety churning her stomach, she walks to Viserys's chamber with her held high. she knows she is only asking for her husband's wrath; she knows she should just obey him, but she just can't. her son will not suffer a sleepless night and horrid following day all because her husband feels the need to use her body once more. he will not suffer at his father's hands tonight, even if she has to endure Viserys's anger for it.

she enters her husband's chambers, finding him in bed, in a white night gown, clearly ready to use her; he was never subtle when he asked for her, not even the first time.

she pauses in the doorway, pulling back the robe slightly, making him aware of Aegon's presence. she watches his face fall, barely muted anger. she holds onto Aegon tighter. part of her fears he may hurt her for this disturbance, but more of her fears he will hurt Aegon on her behalf.

"I told the damned servants to take him," his voice is warped and cruel, just an angry scowl of sorts.

"Aegon is not well, dear husband... I could not leave him," she admits before he can say anything else. she puts her foot forward as a mother, hoping to claim mercy from the man who made her one.

he mutters something in response, not quite loud enough for her to hear. she has a feeling she is grateful for that.

"what was it you needed, my dear?" she tries to sound sweet and kind, in attempts to abate his anger, "I'm sure I could still attend to it."

"you know what I wanted," he yelled. it had been the first time he'd truly raised his voice to her. she couldn't help but gasp, stepping back one step, than two, stopping when Aegon began to fuss, curling around him instead.

"Please Viserys, the baby." she ducks her head down to press her against his whispy white hair. her son his huffing, as if about to cry, and she's sure if she could see his face, his little cheeks would be red and his eyes would be crinkled and wet, his lip puckered. she begins to rock him slightly, still afraid to move.

"your'e dismissed," he grunts, but his tone gives it away. she knows he doesn't mean it, the if she leaves she will be in more trouble. she questions staying, calling a servant to take Aegon and giving him what he wants, but decides against it. he would not come before her son, not now, not ever.

"I'm sorry, my dear, another night, when I do not have Aegon to tend to," she forces some cheer into her tone, "he is still so young, so helpless. he needs his mother. I'm sure you understand?"

"he is not the only one in need of you." he had not lost his anger yet. not even for the sake of his son.

"yes, of course. forgive me. only he is not as understanding as you, my love." that wasn't the truth, Aegon was more kind and understanding at a year old, than viserys was in all of his years. "I will leave now. I am sorry for the disturbance."

she pauses for a moment, waiting for her husbands reaction. when he doesn't lash out at her, she breathes a quiet sigh of relief, feeling as though she has evaded a great beast. her heart calms in her chest, slowing from its fluttering and her stomachs stops its dizzing ache. she questions turning and running, fleeing from his presence before he can change his mind, but knows better.

she hurries to his side, eyeing him all the while, each step calculated, avoiding cracking any eggshells, until she is close enough to kiss his cheek. he allows it, and gives Aegon grace when he reaches out for him, letting him play with his finger a moment, before pulling it away, not even turning away fully before sneering. she takes that as her cue to leave, this one being much more genuine than the last.

"goodnight dear husband." he says nothing. she takes Aegon's little hand, waving it slightly, "say goodnight Aegon."

her son tries to imitate her, though unintelligible, as a toddler would. she continues to smile and coo at him even when his father ignores him, not letting him feel his father's scorn, quickly turning towards the door and back to her own chambers.

the second the door is close she feels herself sag, she would have fallen to the floor right then and there had there not been kingsgaurd watching. instead she holds her head high once more, walking calm and steady, like a queen should.

Aegon settles his forehead against her collar, giving a great yawn against her skin. she smiles at him fondly, kissing his brow, earning a tired little giggle from him. it hits her that he is unaware of the trouble he just saved her from. she feels equal parts relief as she does terror; she hopes he never knows, never understands, but is so so thankful for it none the less.

the second she steps into her chambers she pulls of the robe, setting it aside carefully despite the pain it brings her, respecting the memories it carried. she pulls back the covers before smothering her and her son amongst them. he's quick to curl against her, quite tuckered out after their harrowing adventure, even if he was unaware of its true weight. she herself still wanted to cry, but was similarly too tired to keep her eyes open for another moment. tomorrow, she tells herself, tomorrow will be difficult, but tonight you have your son, tonight you have a chance to rest.

so she does, she holds him close, tracing fingers over the gold threaded patterned of his blanket, feeling the shifting of his chest as he breathes and the tickle of his hair against her neck. all is well in that moment. she drifts to sleep at the thought.

#omage to Aemma's robe that we see alicent wearing in episode 3 (I believe. it was when she was helping bathe viserys)#cause I know he made her wear it cause he's a monster #this is set prior to Helaena's conception. aegon is tiny. and alicent is still naive to the true extents of viserys's abuse.#especially to the fact that despite all of the love she holds for her children and how badly she wishes to always pick them first #his abuse and the stockholm syndrom that follow it will turn her against her children. aegon in particular.#maybe not against. but acrid and foul. her pain overtaking her love. she still tries so hard to protect them though. if you get what I mean #its otto's fault too and they should both die #anyway #I'm just in my feels with these two #we didn't get enough scenes of them together especially when they were both young and I wanted to give alicent a moment were she fought bac #she refused to give him what he wanted. she chose her child over him. she stood up for herself and what she wanted.#she earned that moment #I know she was choking through those “my dears” and “my loves” but she had to for formalities sake #angst in the front fluff in the back #even if the fluff is laced with angst #letting alicent be soft and love her son #I needed it #aegon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #alicent hightower #anti viserys i targaryen #pro team green #hotd #house of the dragon #I love them your honor

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sunlight-forsaken · 3 months

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okokok so I was struck with A Thought —

We all know that Kaeya’s vision appearing saved him that night- but I’d like to add:

What if the initial blast of elemental power from his vision was enough to trigger a freeze reaction on Diluc?

It was heavily raining, after all.

———

Kaeya had expected the reaction- he’d brought his sword for a reason. Still, he does not meet Diluc with even the vigour expected of him if they were sparring. He had expected it, yes, but it did not stop his foolish heart from hoping he’d be wrong for once.

Diluc forces him back with blow after blow, each strike burning hotter and harder as he backs into the field. Blood roars in his ears so loud it’s almost enough to muffle the crackle of flame overlaid upon the torrential rain weighing him down further. Each movement is forced, each parry and block a means to survival-

Kaeya doesn’t know why he’s fighting. Is he really so selfish as to live, after all of this-?

He meets the ground, his limbs twitching to fight but his heart already sure he’d die at the hands of his own brother. It comes with a surge of bile in his gut at the thought, every hope and memory pinned in his head blurring the thoughts with the red his eyes can see.

Red that overtakes his eye as the claymore is brought down in a wild, deadly strike from the hands of a grieving man who had lost his father and who he thought his brother was in one fell swoop.

It’s searing hot upon his skin, and he’s sure he screamed. He’s long since lost track of whatever pleas or reasonings have left his mouth, if any at all, upon seeing the betrayal deep rooted into those crimson eyes. Hellfire crawls upon him, licking upon every wound he already sustained from stray sparks or barely avoided swipes. He’s forced out of his own wallowing, suddenly lightheaded but present, as if the muted sensation of his thoughts had been stripped away and left him defenceless against the burns, allowed the pain to seep deep underneath his skin.

And then, all Kaeya knows is a rush of ice.

The roaring of flame was swallowed back into the thunder and rain of the storm. Deliriously, Kaeya is grateful that his death was not as painful as he thought it’d be- even as he scrambles back like a worm on the dirt, his only ‘clear’ eye struggling to focus in the low light without the aid of the pyro setting the area in angry glow.

His brother stands before him, a perfect snapshot of that moment. Impossibly dark ice has stilled him, incasing his form in a thick layer similar to that of a cast. He almost looks like a statue- a monument, built by those who come after, celebrating the hero who killed the last filthy sinner who walked upon the surface.

Kaeya almost laughs, choking on blood or guilt or bile- it does not matter. For a perfect moment, there is nothing but him, the damned rain, and the years of lies and promises that he wore like a second skin.

There are no words. There’s no conclusion, good or bad.

Kaeya, ever the opportunist, takes it as it is.

Kaeya, ever the coward, runs.

#genshin kaeya #kaeya alberich #Kaeya #genshin impact #diluc ragnvindr #genshin diluc #Diluc #ragbros #not ship #platonic/familial #angst #ragbros angst #bc I woke up and chose violence #text post #writing #my take #headcanon #headcanons

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yournowheregirl · 10 months

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for this month’s @steddiemicrofic challenge

prompt: ‘cake’ | wc: 311 | rating: T | cw: hurt/no comfort 😈

They’ve had plenty of arguments before, but this one really takes the cake.

In comparison to this, all the other arguments were just squabbles. This time there’s yelling and huffing and words that he doesn’t really mean, but he’s saying them anyway because he’s just so fed up.

Not that he can even remembers what this fight was about in the first place. Neither of them really knows or cares at this point. They’re too busy furiously pointing out each other’s flaws like it’s a competition they’re both determined to win.

It’s not until Steve stomps out of their bedroom and the space is completely silent, that Eddie realizes what just happened. The words are suddenly registering in his brain and ringing in his ears, mocking him.

“I’m done. I can’t do this anymore.”

He hears a door slamming and his feet start to move on instinct, his brain now drowning in thoughts of fear. It’s true, he just said the most unspeakable things just now, but he can’t lose Steve. Not after all they’ve been through.

As fast as his feet can take him, Eddie runs out the door and hopes that he can catch Steve before he gets out of the driveway. He doesn’t even bother to put on shoes as he sprints down the stairs, already trying to think of what to say and how to fix this.

But it’s no use. Eddie arrives at the empty parking lot with his heart racing. He can’t even spot the Beemer in the distance anymore.

Steve really must’ve been in a hurry to get away from him.

He tries calling Robin, knowing for certain that’s where Steve went, but to no avail. After his fourth attempt, he grabs a bottle of whiskey, the bottle they saved for a special occasion, and picks up the telephone again.

“Wayne? I fucked up.”

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie microfic #steve harrington x eddie munson #my writing #sorry not sorry for this one #i know we’re all doing filth and i love to see it #but i chose violence today 😈#steddie angst

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just-french-me-up · 11 months

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(In)somnia Veritas

Fandom : The Sandman (AO3 link) Pairing : Dreamling (Dream x Hob) Rating : G | 1.8k Tags : Angst & Comfort, Retired Dream, Post Wake Fix-it, Established Relationship Summary : No longer Dream of the Endless, Morpheus spends his first night as a human at Hob's, struggling with his new condition. He can not sleep. He will not sleep. How could he, when wakefulness is all he has ever known?

Hob had expected the craziness of it all to keep him awake. The Kindly Ones. The Fates. Daniel Hall. Dream of the Endless, now, for all intents and purposes. It all whirled in his head as he settled in bed, Dream―Morpheus' form next to him, already still from sleep.

Hob's gaze lingered for a moment. He didn't look changed. Even like this, very much asleep and vulnerable, his lips slightly parted in a shallow, slumbering breath, Morpheus still looked like the powerful being he'd been, mere hours ago. Human. It hardly seemed thinkable. Hob had been around for a while, and never had a human ever looked like that. Yet another rule broken tonight, it seemed.

As his head hit the pillow, Hob could feel the heaviness of the day weighing on him, a crown of lead encasing his head, a migraine he resigned himself to fight all night. Instead, sleep took him the second he closed his eyes, his body melting away, as though engulfed by a wave.

The rest was for Dani―Dream of the Endless to know.

It was still dark when sleep loosened its grip around him. Disoriented, Hob rolled drowsily on the mattress, expecting to meet the cold yet substantial shape of Drea―Morpheus' body, yet only found more sheets.

Confused, he cracked an eye open, his hand instinctively patting the empty space, as though he would find Morpheus hidden between the folds somewhere. Nothing. Hob's heart jolted wildly in his chest, pumping bitter bile in his throat. The Fates changed their minds, panic whispered in his ear instantly. They've taken him back. They could not let him be.

Slapped awake, Hob sprung out of bed, blood thrashing in his ears. I've got to get him back, he kept thinking. I must get him back. He did not know where to start, how to work out any kind of summons or strike any sort of supernatural bargain (those had a tendency to find him, not the other way around), but he would figure it out, he had to, he would even call―

His hand still tense on the doorknob, Hob froze in his tracks.

In complete darkness, Morpheus was sitting on his couch, his thighs pressed against his chest, still wearing the old t-shirt Hob had given him as improvised sleepwear. He barely seemed to notice the interruption. He barely seemed to breathe, for that matter. He simply sat there, statuesque, his eyes burning a hole into the opposite wall.

Relief flooded through Hob at the sight, no matter how eerie it felt. He was there. He hadn't gone anywhere. His hand relaxed around the doorknob, though his heartbeat had trouble adjusting.

"You alright?" he asked quietly, his voice slightly hoarse.

There was no acknowledgment of his presence, or answer. Still as a rock, Morpheus kept staring at the wall, his face blank.

Hob dared a few steps closer.

"Can't sleep?" he tried again, cautious not to startle him as he neared the couch. He considered switching on the lights, but quickly decided against it. It felt like one of those matters that were best discussed under the cover of darkness. The constant London light pollution would have to do.

"It's all so... silent."

Hob stilled, caught off guard by the sound of Morpheus' voice. It was still his, undeniably, every note, every inflection, but it missed... something. An edge. A preternatural depth that rose from the dawn of times, when the first being laid down and dreamt on its first night. A human did not need such speech. Like the rest, it now belonged to Daniel.

Hob approached him, electing to sit at the edge of the couch rather than directly next to Morpheus.

"You think this is silent?"

He had grown used to the constant whir of London life, every new century bringing new sounds to the mix, but there was no ignoring the myriad of dogs barking outside, the drunk students talking much louder than social norms would allow during the day, and the ballet of bin lorries and automated street cleaners. Could Morpheus not hear that?

"How can you bear it?"

Slowly, Morpheus' eyes left the wall to settle on Hob, turning to face him. Even with the lack of proper lighting, Hob could see his eyes clearly. Blue, as the day they first met. And full of apprehension about this world he'd never had to navigate this way, even though his pride would not allow him to put it in such words. This, at least, had been his to keep.

Hob stared at Dream, at a loss for words. If this was silence for him, what hellish racket must have been filling his mind until then? How could he bear it?

"It's all I've ever known," he said, settling for something that felt true, in his core. "I'm sorry. I imagine it must be... jarring."

"It is... unnerving," Morpheus nodded slowly, looking down, as though he would not bear to admit it while looking at Hob in the eyes. "Isolating. Empty. And at the same time..."

"Deafening," Hob supplied helpfully. "I understand."

Of course it felt empty, he thought. When one had spent their entire existence with the collective unconscious at their fingertips, dreams and nightmares echoing into their ears every second of every day, being severed from it must feel like having your head dunked into a bucket of water.

"It is no wonder humans devised all matters of utensils to fill the silence," Morpheus mused faintly. "It kept them from going mad."

Them. Humans. Hob wondered how long it would take Morpheus to see himself as one. Never, perhaps. He struggled to see himself as other than what he was, originally. The only difference between them was that Hob had considerably benefited from the change. For Morpheus, this was hardly a step-up. It was free falling.

There was an urge there, lodged deep into Hob's chest, to reach for Morpheus' hand, to hold him close, to offer him all the reassurance he could provide and then more. But Morpheus was not there yet. This human body ached, Hob knew it. It was new, unused, unacclimated to the world it had been thrown into. It looked every way the body he knew, the one he'd touched, loved, held, once. Not quite, though.

"We could buy you a white noise machine," Hob suggested lightly, pushing down the emotion down his throat. He was here, safe, it was all that mattered, in the end. Hob just needed to be patient.

Morpheus frowned, confused.

"It's a box that makes noise. Some people use it to fall asleep."

There was a huff, and the first hint of a smile on Morpheus' lips since their encounter with the Fates.

"Of course you people fashioned a noise machine."

"Don't knock it 'til you've tried it," Hob smiled, purposefully stirring the conversation towards a lighter territory. "Whale songs might be just what you need."

"I doubt it will suffice."

In spite of Hob's best efforts, Morpheus' playfulness was short-lived. His face closed again, returning to its persisting melancholy. Hob leant towards him, inching closer, assessing his lover's reaction, any sign of recoiling.

"What's wrong?"

"I fear I may not be... welcome to the Dreaming."

The admission rolled out of him like a wound, bloody and raw, almost shameful. Hob furrowed his brows.

"You're afraid Daniel may not grant you entry?"

"No, I..."

Morpheus gave out a faint frustrated sigh.

"It is no longer mine to rule. Dream of the Endless endures, outside of me. Perhaps I do not... belong there. My presence could be ill-received."

"Love, I―" Hob bit the inside of his cheek, trying to find the words that would hurt the least. "You will have to sleep at some point. That's... I'm sorry, but that's part of... this."

"I know."

In the darkness, Hob could have sworn he saw a tear trail down Morpheus' cheek, glistening in the light of a nearby street lamp.

"I'm sure Daniel will go easy on you. He's a good kid."

Was a good kid, Hob reminded himself. Daniel was an empty name now. There was no more Daniel Hall. Not really. Dream was what remained.

"It is a terrible fate I have delivered onto him," Morpheus countered weakly. "It would be fair on his part to torment me for it."

"Morpheus."

Unable to help himself, Hob rested his hand atop Morpheus'. His skin was warmer than usual, he noticed. Human. Instead of pulling away, Morpheus leant towards him, almost nuzzling against his shoulder.

"I have never fallen asleep," he confided softly. "Never dreamt. Not once."

It had always felt odd to Hob that Dream of the Endless, King of Dreams and Nightmares, did not sleep. How scary it must be, for someone who had never done it, to surrender yourself to the hand of another, in your most vulnerable state. Scary enough to leave the bed and avoid sleep altogether.

"I could hold you," Hob suggested gently. "Whatever happens in the Dreaming, it can't harm you here, can it?"

"No. Not really."

Not the most reassuring answer. Nor the clearest. Vagueness was a Morpheus trait, then, not a Dream trait. Good to know.

"I would like that. You, holding me."

"Come here, love."

It happened slowly, inch by inch, but Morpheus nestled into Hob's arms, resting his head in the crook of Hob's neck. Hob could feel his breath blowing against his skin, warm, regular, vital. It was odd, but far from unwelcome. More new than anything else.

"How does it happen? Do I merely close my eyes and wait?"

"Essentially. There is a relaxation aspect to it, though."

Clearly something Morpheus had no experience with either, considering how tense he felt against him.

"You could... breathe with me."

"Breathe with you?"

The suggestion sounded ridiculous in Morpheus' mouth, but Hob was not so easily deterred.

"Yeah, just... just humour me."

It was difficult, at first, for Morpheus to follow the rhythm of Hob's breathing. He was going either too fast or too slow, as though breathing did not come naturally to him, which, in fairness, it did not. It was a conscious effort, every time. After a few minutes of off-beat inhales and exhales, they came to a harmony, their chests rising and falling in tandem. Morpheus had only been pretending to sleep earlier, Hob understood. He could see it now, from the way his face truly relaxed, how his body became more pliant in his arms. If he was not fully asleep, he was getting there, at last.

Hob smiled at the sight, pressing his cheek against his lover's forehead. He could feel Morpheus' pulse where he held him, strong, regular, and undeniably human. Yet no less the man he loved, in spite of the changes.

"Sweet dreams, dear heart."

He raised his eyes to the ceiling, knowing full well there was no one to hear, and no one listening, but he could not help but add:

"Let him rest, will you? I don't think he's ever done that in his life. Might as well start this one with something new."

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