#and I'm in the mood for angst | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chuluoyi · 4 months

Note

i love your comedy and fluff! but my masochistic heart is itching for more angst to fluff for gojo🥲 and i have this brainrot ever since i read "baby", "protect" and "wife": childbirth gone wrong, that's why he is sooo concerned about your wellbeing during your maternity leave~

࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 09:45 P.M 」

tw: childbirth. there are two very same ask for this now and so that's the cue for me to practice my crack/angst more :3 okay this is basically an extended version of protect's epilogue and oh, it's a happy ending! mini sequel -> 11.10 p.m

a part of gojo's love entries

“you’re always doing whatever you want! ow!”

“deep breaths, sweets. deep brea—”

“easy for you to say! you don't contribute anything other than shoving that damn stick into me! and now i’m left with the consequences!”

“i kindly remind you that you very much enjoyed my stick that night—”

“i hate you!”

satoru looked at your tear-streaked face and patted you in the head—his notable love language, erupting into laughter. “of course you do.”

lying on the hospital bed, tears welled up in your eyes as you roasted your husband and your contractions kept getting closer together. three hours after you woke up to your labor pains, all you could feel was that you were ready to burst.

gripping his hand tight, you purposefully dig your nails in just to spite him. “i’m serious. i hate you. you’re not putting me up for this again!”

“you say that now, but the moment we are home, those words are going to be null and void,” satoru snorted in an attempt to lighten the mood, ignoring the slight pain you inflicted on him, because what was this compared to what you were going through?

but his facade dropped as soon as breath was knocked out of you and you whimpered. he instantly gathered you in his arms.

“hey, hey... take deep breaths...” when you did, he planted a tender kiss on your damp forehead. “that's it, there you go... the baby's going to be here real soon, okay?”

you panted, limp in his hold as dull pain overwhelmed you. “yeah... your baby.”

“our baby, love. not just mine,” he corrected, smiling. he had one hand on your swollen belly, palming the subtle firmness, and gently rubbing it. “our munchkin.”

“i’m just the container though.”

“heh, no,” he chuckled softly. “you're everything.” his eyes crinkled affectionately, a hint of laughter still in his voice, and your heart actually melted when he whispered: “my everything.”

truthfully, despite your bravado, you were scared shitless. yet, as you nestled your head against your husband's strong chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his reassuring heartbeat, and when you gazed into his eyes, you were sure, because he exuded confidence as if he had no doubts that this was going to go perfectly fine.

and so holding onto him you did. he held your hand through it all, talked you through your pain, and you were so, so grateful to have him by your side.

the next hour was a blur, as excruciating pain blinded your senses. you were wailing when everyone told you to push, and you gave it your all. you kept it up even as you felt like being torn apart.

and before you knew it, cries unlike any other, ones you had only imagined until that moment, echoed through the room.

“he's here!” satoru's hitched voice reached your ears, and you went slack, falling back to the sheets.

you were completely spent and all you could register was that the cherished baby both you and satoru had been waiting for was here. you shivered, your mind tuning in and out—lightheaded, wondering why you felt so drenched down there.

“holy shit! i can't believe it! i can’t—” if you were awake enough, you would realize that it was one of the rarest times when satoru was choked with emotions. he turned to you. “i—”

and suddenly you felt strange. an eerie chill seemed to engulf your entire being. your hand slipped from satoru's grasp as your vision dimmed, the world growing darker.

“are you okay? hey—” his voice sounded distant, and you struggled to keep your eyes open. satoru finally realized that something was wrong, as his six eyes discerned the rapid dwindling of your cursed energy, and the room reeked of the tangy scent of blood.

you barely made out the nurse's shouting next. “blood pressure is dropping!”

"come on!" now he was utterly panicked and tried to get a hold of you, shaking you slightly. “hey, stay awake—look at me, i’m right here, please—”

but to his horror, your head lolled back as you lost your consciousness. soon, he was thrown out of the delivery room. just like that, in one sick twist, his world was crumbling down hard and fast.

a sense of helplessness washed over him as he stood outside the room, barred from being by your side. inside, you were bleeding out, and he was unable to do anything but wait.

didn't he say he would protect you with everything he had? once again, gojo satoru was humbled—not everything was in his grasp. he couldn't save those chosen by fate not to be saved.

suddenly, it felt like suguru all over again, except the stakes were higher. he shuddered—his fist clenched so hard that it drew blood, while his other hand clutched his chest, desperately willing the searing pain away.

would he really lose you this way? the sheer thought made his ears ring. no fucking way. even hell knows he'd go berserk. would fate really let him decimate anything in his path? surely, no... right?

he was unaware that he had been murmuring these silent prayers when the doors slid open, revealing the doctor who had been assisting with your delivery earlier with the news. it was a case of a postpartum hemorrhage, she said, an unfortunate incident.

all things considered, you were going to be okay. that knowledge alone was enough to make him breathe freely once more.

when he was allowed to see you, the moment your eyes blinked open, the first thing he did was burying his head in the crook of your neck.

and there you have it—the first time you had ever seen him really shaken to the point of shedding tears.

“you scared me,” he rasped, voice thick with emotion. “i—i can't stop thinking— if you really left me—”

“i’m fine now...” you were somewhat wonderstruck by the knowledge that you had this potent hold over him. oblivious to how your soft voice calmed the depths of his soul, you stroked his hair, and he breathed in your scent, grateful to every force imaginable for returning you back to him.

“sleep,” he gently pulled away, his eyes rimmed with red, his fingers caressing your cheek. “you need it. i’ll be here when you wake up, i promise.”

“the baby—”

“they just cleaned him up. he's resting too,” satoru reassured with an impossibly tender smile, and his next words made your heart lurch.

“my strong girl, you did it. you're a mother now… thank you. thank you... for making me the father to our child.”

you felt like you might burst into tears. you felt so loved, so secure, even after you went through the most challenging ordeal in your life. and as you drifted to your rest, you could hear the love of your life whisper in your ear ever so lovingly—

“i know i have said it before, but i’ll say it again. with everything it is that i have, i swear to you, nothing will befall you and our baby, for i will spare nothing and give everything for both of you... even my own life.”

#𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #okay i'm just in the mood of very soft gojo #jjk imagines #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru fluff #jjk fluff #gojo x you #satoru gojo fluff #gojo satoru angst #gojo angst #jjk angst

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2aceofspades · 7 days

Text

TW: Blood/Injury, Implied Death

_______________________________________________

With you

Lil one-shot I guess...??

_______________________________________________

After the dust cleared, it was dead silent. The air was thick with moisture from the dark clouds looming above them all. Someone, probably Raphael, yelled out something Two didn't quite process, his ears still ringing as his vision slowly cleared.

A faint blue glow flickered in the near distance, not too far from where Two was slumped on the ground. More muffled shouts rang out as Two attempted to collect himself, staggering to his feet and trudging over to the source of-

No.

Just the image alone was enough to bring Two collapsing back to his knees. Stupid, he thought.

"H-hey..." One's weak voice just barely got through to Two, snapping him right out of his thoughts.

He stared down at the dimming blue glow, watching it flicker and fade in and out. How the hell are you still here, breathing?

His thoughts became flooded in his head, even more so as he felt his arms cradle his brother's near-lifeless body.

"Did we win?"

Two felt his jaw clench at One's question, feeling frighteningly close to grinding his teeth until they were flat.

Did we win?

The question echoed in Two’s head, as if that would better help him process this moment. In any other instance, he would have deflected and scoffed at such an empty, meaningless question. Did it matter? he thought as he titled his head up, looking around briefly at the wasteland that surrounded them. It was over, that much was apparent.

"Yes,” he huffed, looking down at his brother in his arms as he continued, “Now, shut it and save your strength. Your heart-"

"I know," One croaked out in between a few sputtering breaths, interrupting Two in more ways than one. Two tried to ignore the cast-off of blood coming from his brother's mouth, despising the sickening feeling settling in his stomach as it hit his chin. One smiled weakly up at his brother, his eyes dull and unfocused.

How dare you, Two thought to himself.

His eyes flickered from One's exposed heart, bleeding out and hardly beating, and back to his brother’s face. His brother looked beaten, bloody...broken. It wasn't a look he saw from him often, if at all. It was that damn smile that he watched waver as One's heart beat softer and softer. What cruel irony, Two couldn't help but think, a metaphorical expression brought to life by his stupid, thoughtless, idiotic brother.

Two could still fix this. Even as he held his brother tighter against his own plastron and felt his shirt get soaked by the horrid mix of blood and empyrean; he thought to himself how he'd be the one to fix this.

There was no other choice left.

“Good…” One let out the softest of chuckles, “…we…we can s-start over.”

Something in Two’s own chest faltered, even just briefly. It was enough to shut out the feeling of One’s pathetic coughs and wheezes against him. He watched how One's eyes dulled further, his gaze wandering away from Two's face.

Starting over? That wasn’t ever an option, not one that Two had ever weighed in his mind. He wasn’t sure if that was even an option now. After everything he had done, everything he sacrificed, worked for…his brother still wanted to burn it, bury everything down and out of Two’s reach. One wanted this win, he wanted the impossible.

“Impossible…” Two muttered under his breath.

He heard yet another faint chuckle. And then the dense silence that followed.

_______________________________________________

~bonus doodles~

(':

#emd fanart #acey doodles #i was in a mood #still in that mood #i'm just a goon with my angsty ideas..#letting that angst just simmer for now #oof #also i am not a writer so i'm cringing right along with y'all 🫣#i just wanted to draw and write something for this amazing au that inspires me endlessly ♥️#i'm at a loss for words at just how greatly this au inspires me seriously the story and the lore and the art just move me so much #i am a sad sap but i am free 🥲#also #i'm sorry for hurting your boy somni 😳 even if it's just a one-shot *bu-dum tsk*#*skitters away*#Spotify #:)

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autiacorart · 4 months

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all we are is skin and bone trained to get along

#rk1k #dbh #detroit become human #dbh connor #dbh markus #i am not able to draw anything more than just some sketchy thing idk and i'm in a mood for angst thank you #it's inspired by tom ford's a single man

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edgeray · 1 month

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Arlecchino is a cold person.

(Arlecchino x Reader Blurb)

It's no suprise to anyone. It is simply an objective fact of the matter. She is aware of this. The House of the Hearth is aware of this. The Fatui are aware of this. It's ironic given the nature of her vision, but it nonetheless rings true despite the fire she possesses on her blackened fingertips. She is callous and curt, and underneath her skin there is nothing except frigid ice that envelopes her being like a fitted coat. She speaks with no warmth, acts with the absence of heat, exists in a constant state of cold emptiness--a state in which there is a void inside of her, as if sucking all that is human of her.

Years ago, when she was just a child of the same orphanage she headed, she had naive thoughts of finding companionship, someone who would provide the warmth she sought on lonesome nights. She was barely just an adolescent who dreamed of lying in someone's arms, feel the heartbeat of another so surely, it would remind her that she was indeed alive. For even the briefest of moments, she yearned for someone who would, if not shield, then distract her from the cruelties of this world. She had shed those foolish wishes aside. In the House of the Heart that she was raised in, such notions were admonished, in fact, the wishful thinking was one of the reasons she had nearly lost her life. Never again, she had promised to herself, when she mercilessly beat the backstabber. It was then that she believed when the time came, her tale would end the same way as it began for her: alone. As the years of being a Fatui, then becoming a Fatui Harbinger, hardened her, there was comfort in that view.

That is what she believed in. Until you came.

Iciness wraps her being. It is present in her expression, in her words, in her touch. But that is exactly why she finds solace in your being. Her vision could only grant her a synthetic flame, but, you, you're an everlasting hearth. She melts in your embrace every time she slots herself in your arms, as it feels like a kindling ignited in her heart. It is only with you, that she learns how warmth can be found in.

Arlecchino is a cold person.

It is why you, as a warm one, is perfect for her. You whisk away the most depraved thoughts, ease her of any emotional and mental turmoil, and you do not treat her with the same coldness as the world seems so fond of doing to her. You are her flame, the one that sparks her being and reminds her that she is alive because her heart beats with you, beats for you.

Except you are cold now. It is unfathomable to her how you can be this way when your entire being exists to warm her, but when she touches your skin, you are unbearably frozen. Your body does not tremble like it does when her clawed fingers ever so gently trace your skin. The corner of your lips doesn't quirk up into the usual small smile of yours when she appears in your sight, but they remain ever rigid like the rest of you. Uncharacteristically, your expression doesn't soften with her presence.

You are cold, just like her. And that makes her afraid. Her hand searches for it, prodding your skin for a familiar thumping that is nowhere to be found. You continue to stare at her, unblinking. Here would be the moment where you give her a beaming smirk and you'd cup her face tenderly as if she was glass. And she would let you, because you are her beloved, who has watched her shatter so many times before and wordlessly each shard back together, and it is for that reason that she would lean closer towards your touch.

Because you lie broken in her arms and her hands are stained again with the familiar color of red. Your eyes are glossy and gaze unblinkingly at her. Frozen. Even when you are covered in your blood, you are beautiful, she notes, but oh, so cold that it makes her doubt if you were warm to begin with.

She misses your warmth. Where has it gone? Or has it died along with you?

Her hearth is gone. And as she clings onto your form, her body wracking with a fear and desperation she's never known before, two revelations come to her: that there is no such thing as an everlasting fire, and even after so many years ago, she was right along.

Arlecchino is a cold person. And she will remain always cold.

#arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x you #i wrote this instead of writing the actual oneshot I was planning to publish on Wednesday #whoops #i was in a little angsty mood 🥰#that's mbad #if it comforts you the next oneshot is pretty wholesome #surprisingly whipped this up in like... an hour or so #is this my usual quality? no but #this was kinda fun #i haven't written angst in a while so this was good outlet #did you guys know I'm primarily an angst writer? :) because I am #and you will see that in the future #edgeray.blog #edgeray.writes

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stripetkattelalala54-gf · 6 months

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When you find your brother crying in the living room in the middle of the night.

Headcanon time! (more under the cut)

Mario has quite a lot of nightmares from his adventures and most of the time he can handle them just fine. But there are times when the nightmares are too much, so he goes out of the room he shares with Luigi to deal with it himself.

Luigi happens to wake up sometimes in the middle of the night be it for needing to use the bathroom or just to get a glass of water. (It happened way more frequently when he was a kid but as an adult it became a rare event.)

This is a night where Mario has one of the really bad nightmares and Luigi woke up to get a glass of water and finds Mario like that.

#trying out different styles yay #smb #mario #luigi #super mario bros #mario bros #mario and luigi #braincellart #I'm in an angsty mood so I'll probably draw some more Mario angst art

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thatdesklamp · 7 months

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January, 2011

intrinsic warmth, gojo pov. Tonally very similar to the end of 2012, Chapter 17, with similar content warnings (angst)

Satoru stares up at the ceiling.

It’s a good ceiling. It’s high, and tall, so tall that he can stretch his arms up and not even brush his fingertips on it. His old home always had high ceilings, which he thinks was a show of wealth back when it was built. His old room in high school had very low ceilings, which he understood, with the knowledge that it was made for people half a foot shorter than him. Satoru would complain about it with Suguru who, when they were still teenagers together, was the same height as him.

No. Satoru blinks at the ceiling. Suguru was taller. He was taller by exactly 0.28cm in their first year, and 0.19 in their second, and Satoru cannot remember the number from their third year.

The woman shifts in her sleep, and Satoru’s gaze is drawn from the ceiling. She is naked, but has the bedsheets bundled up to her collarbone. They drape in a way that is accidentally attractive; the white linen catches on the side of her breast, highlighting the curve, luxurious in the way that asks to be touched. Satoru does not. He doesn’t want to, for how much he touched last night.

The ceiling. This ceiling is taller than his room back in school. The woman, whose name he cannot remember, had commented on it; she had been awed, last night, at how large the rooms in his apartment were, and how expensive his furniture looked, and how high his ceiling was. She had walked around, her fingertips brushing against the back of his white couch, her eyes wide as she looked upwards and not at him. Satoru had not wanted her to wait around, or to make herself home here.

He had stepped forward. He had taken her hand from his furniture and moved it above her head, had backed her against a wall and kissed her, hard, until her breathing was frantic and her body was writhing and until she was gasping out his name.

Satoru, he had told her, in the bar, when she had asked for it. She had told him hers—Satoru can’t remember, damn, that’s not good—and he thinks that it was her first name, too, because he had told her his.

Satoru, she had moaned out, when he was fucking her. He had her on her back, her thighs wrapped tight around his hips, bracing his weight on one forearm by her head and teasing her clit with his hand between their bodies.

He had been mean, last night, making her beg for it, for his fingers and his dick and the permission to come. He had fucked her ruthlessly, until she couldn’t say his name anymore, and could only make weak gasping noises as she shuddered through another orgasm. He had left dark bruises on her neck, from his tongue and his teeth, and she had bared her throat for him like an animal trying to submit.

But in the taxi back from the bar, she had told him that she liked it, and that she always wanted guys to edge her and call her a slut and be rough, and she had giggled drunkenly and clicked on a porn video that showed him what she meant.

Satoru had paid attention, and he had become the man in the video, and afterwards, when he had kissed her and moved his hands to her waist and murmured comforting words in her ear, she had told him that she had never felt like that before, and that she had felt good, so good, and that she wanted to do this again sometime.

Satoru had been drunk too. He was probably more drunk than she was, even though he’d barely drank anything. He’s always been a lightweight; he can hide it now, but it was embarrassing when he was in school and experimenting with alcohol with Suguru and Shoko.

Satoru doesn’t like drinking. He doesn’t like the feeling of it, the fuzziness and zeroed-in vision and the waning voice in the back of his head telling him he’s doing something wrong. Satoru drinks because it’s easier to pretend with women when he’s drunk, because words fall differently and disgust falls away.

Mostly. Satoru is still drunk, even now he’s woken up. That’s another thing with alcohol: it disturbs his sleep, making it fitful instead of peaceful and deep. You would tell him—and Satoru feels the pain like a knife in his chest, searing and agonising and serrated, at the thought of you. The guilt is visceral, and he flinches away from it, instinctual, pathetic. There is the wrong woman in his bed.

He looks back at her. There are the hickeys, which seem teenage and shameful now, now he has thought of you. There is the white linen, which he wants to draw up further, until it is her face that it covers, not just her naked body. He wants to hide her from his view, and pretend she is not here, and he sees the bare skin of her hands that hold the blanket to her chest, and he knows that she is not you.

She had wanted him to call her a slut. Satoru had done it, because he had known it would put him even deeper, and because it had made her eyes roll back and her chest shake with pleasure. His stomach had twisted, revolted at the sight of it, of the words that were coming from his own mouth. He had said it, and he had fucked her, and he has done it all before so many times and he cannot remember her name.

Satoru can remember almost everything. It’s the worst thing about his Six Eyes, and the best. Satoru remembers details, details, details. The dust particles catching light in the air, the day he learnt Suguru had massacred a village of innocent people. The width of the lock of hair that fell against Suguru’s temple, the strand he never cared enough to tie back. The words of hatred you had said to him, verbatim, exact, when you told him you did not want to see him again, ever, and that he had made you cry just like your father always had. The shine of moonlight in your wide pupils, the night on the rooftop.

It is almost everything, not everything, that he remembers. Because Satoru forgets. He thinks, sometimes, that the things he forgets are more painful than the things he remembers.

How did Suguru say his name? His first name, the name you say so rarely. Satoru remembers it, and he does not. The memory has become distorted with age, has gone grey and lifeless, and Satoru cannot remember that which used to be so familiar to him.

How many times have you told him you love him? It’s not enough that he could forget; Satoru hasn’t become neglectful in their abundance, because you will not allow them to become abundant, and so has tried to capture each one in his memory. He didn’t know that he could forget things, when he was seventeen, still reeling from Suguru, still so raw from his betrayal. But, months later, Satoru had realised that he could not remember how much taller Suguru had been than him when they had last checked at the beginning of the year, and he had realised that despite his Six Eyes, Satoru Gojo was not infallible or omniscient, and that he had to try to remember the things he could not allow himself to forget.

How many times? The first, when he was seventeen, of course. Moments, later; sometimes, when he says it, you will say it back, and his heart will fill with love so much that it hurts him. Of course, sometimes you will not say it back, and will send him an exasperated look, like you think he is playing a game. This hurts more, but he will not let you realise it.

His eyes are growing tired. There is more than just the ceiling, in his vision; there always is. There is his cursed energy, both opaque and completely transparent, curling and undulating like a living being, or like fog, with tendrils like a scorpion’s tail. It surrounds him, and surrounds everyone he looks at, enveloping and encasing them and entrapping them without him being able to hold it back.

This is not his technique, which Satoru can control. This is his raw energy, powerful beyond belief, powerful enough that Satoru cannot bear to look at the ceiling anymore. His vision is clear and overwhelming, both simultaneously, and he cannot focus on one thing like normal when there is a sea of nothingness, of expensive modern lights that came with the bedroom and white plaster and nothingness, nothingness, and Satoru sees everything. His eyes sting, painfully dry.

He closes his fist around the blindfold he keeps on his bedside table, and places the material against his eyes. The room darkens, and twists, and Satoru can see again. This was the blindfold she had laughed at, before he had gotten her to cry.

The wrongness returns; that guilt, the disgust, that he feels whenever he thinks about the woman. Or the women: Satoru cannot pretend she is the first, or that she will be the last. Satoru cannot have you.

Satoru fucks the way they want him to fuck, and he will call them a slut if they want him to, and he will be the best sex they’ve had in years if he can get them to say something good, tell him something he cannot hear anywhere else. That was so good, this woman had said to him, and Satoru had lapped at it like a savage cat to curdled milk. Their words are empty and shallow, and yours are rich with time and knowledge and love. But Satoru will scavenge for what he can, now, carnivorous and desperate and empty.

The woman had laughed at the blindfold, when she had craned her neck to look around his room, and asked him whether he was going to use it on her. Satoru had shaken his head and kissed her, distracting her, and he had swallowed down the surge of loathing at the repugnant idea that he ever would.

Satoru remembers you putting on his glasses at the beach, and the innocence of it all, the way his stomach had flipped at the sight of it. And you, running your fingers over his blindfold when he had discarded it after a day at work, when you had brought it up to your eyes and told him that it was cool, really, how he could see through it like normal when to you it was just really dark.

His day had been pitiful, up until then, and he had been so tired, even if it was making him feel better to pretend that he wasn’t. But you had held up the very thing that kept him sane, and had made as if you would put it on, and Satoru had only had to watch you to feel better.

That’s all it takes, these days. Satoru only has to see you, and it’s better. You have his heart between your gloved fingers, and yet you do not squeeze it tightly enough for it to beat.

#intrinsic warmth #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo angst #i couldn't stay in the fluffy mood forever folks #written in one sitting because it's raining and i'm feeling contemplative and somewhat sombre #enjoy

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hypewinter · 1 year

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You know, we see a lot of Danny absolutely wrecking the Joker but what if he didn't? What if what happened with Freakshow still lingers? What if Danny post adoption is absolutely terrified of this clown and Joker seeing that this boy has a worse reaction to him compared to most people and eats it up?

I wanna see a Joker who makes it his life mission to traumatize the newest Wayne. A batfam who's terrified the Clown Prince of Crime will hurt yet another family member. A Danny who sees Joker and instantly thinks of what might happen if he loses control again. Of who he might hurt this time.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #dcxdp #hyper prompts #winter's tales #basically while danny one hit KOing joker is fun #i wanna see more stuff that truly shows how menacing joker can be #all of danny's rouges are dangerous sure #but their mainly just campy #not many of them pose the same pscycological as joker yk?#idk i'm just in the mood for mega angst rn and think that with all the trauma the batfam has faced with the joker #their new member coming in already scared of him and on his hit list #would put them all on edge #this could also be a medium for healing #in their attempts to make sure danny is safe #the family gets closer #jason and bruce have a real heart to heart and all that #or maybe the threat of yet another member of his precious family being hurt is the last straw for bruce #he's finally ready to end this once and for all #especially if this incorporates the joker jr timeline #perhaps danny's fright has nothing to do with freakshow #maybe he's afraid of what might happen if he gets hit with the joker gas #in that case he would probably be scared of scarecrow's fear toxin too #maybe danny hides his fears #and the batfam is left wondering why he's always so shut off from them #and so tense whenever they go out #idk just my thoughts

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marredroses90 · 2 months

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He was tired that afternoon. His limbs could barely function. Beads of sweat plastered curly brown hair to the sides of his face.

His hands were calloused from steering. How long had it been again? Dimly, Leo was well aware it wasn't long until the blisters cracked and bled. Wistfully, Leo felt his heart twist at the sight of Percy and Annabeth. Eating side by side, Annabeth attempting to toss a carrot into his mouth. You will always be the seventh wheel. Nemesis' words rung in his ears. He dug his nails harshly into his palms, pausing before they drew blood. Clenching his teeth, he redirected his gaze to the afternoon sky.

A hollow feeling wedged itself in his chest, settling at the bottom. Sweat plastered his curly brown hair to the sides of his face, and blood roared in his ears. Vaguely, he knew this was abnormal. The cold breeze danced through the warship, engulfing it inhabitants with a soft swish, before exiting again.

"Leo?" Jason. The voice echoed, like it was far away.

"Yes?" Tearing his gaze away from the sunset, he commanded his vision forward.

"Woah. You good?" Percy asked.

"It's fine," He bit out.

"Leo-" Piper began. Anger bubbled in his stomach.

"Gods, do you ever shut up?" The words left his mouth before he could stop them. A stab of guilt surfaced at Piper's shocked expression. He wasn't being fair to her. He knew that. Really, he wasn't being fair to any of them. It wasn't a single one of their fault's that he was stuck into the least desirable position.

He closed his eyes and sucked in a breath. The throbbing sensation increased tenfold.

"...Everything all right?" Annabeth was saying. The others had found their way from the foyer. They were all staring now, all surveying him with varying levels of worry.

"Whatever," He scoffed. Ignoring the mirrored look of shock across the 6 faces staring back at him, he strode off.

____

"What was that?" Hazel is the first one to recover from her shock. A general murmur of agreement passed through the six.

"Someone should talk to him," Frank suggested.

"I got it," Jason volunteered. He didn't wait for protest. Quietly, he began the unfamiliar route to Leo's cabin.

___

Storming across the pavilion, he stopped at his cabin. The dizziness didn't stop. Leaning against a rickety table, he panted. He can't breathe. The realization spirals into panic. He tried to inhal more air, but his efforts were futile. It felt as if someone had wrapped a hand around his throat, blocking the oxygen.

A knock at the door made him jump.

"Leo?" Jason.

The door creaked open.

part 2 here.

#percy jackson fandom #leo valdez #valgrace #pjo hoo toa #jason grace #percy jackson #angst #hurt/comfort #pjo #percabeth #jiper #can you tell I'm in an angsty mood

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sketchy-scribs-n-doods · 5 months

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i'm a little sad at how sparse steddyhands and stizzy art and writing is on here now after the finale (thankfully, i am still digging through the couple thousand fics up on ao3 so i'm not totally bereft)

because during the airing of the season there was new stuff in the tags every day, sometimes even every few hours, but i think the finale really punched all of us in the face

there's lots of good stuff from before s2 to go digging through of course, and ao3 and twitter still have some new art and fic and memes if you go looking for it, but the difference from before and now seems a bit stark

don't misunderstand me, this isn't me being defeatist, just being a bit melancholy (and mad at the s2 finale tbh lol) about it. shout out to the regulars i see in the tags still making stuff and posting jokes, ya'll are doing the most and i wish you all the passion and motivation and time to create in the world <3

#obviously in this day and age ppl seem to drop fandom right away after the media in question is done so it's not totally unexpected #but the stark difference between so much new art being shared during airing vs the sudden quiet after the finale was. damn.#the izzy tag and regular fandom tags are still pretty active but i have a very specific love lol and it is #stizzy #steddyhands #gentlehands #even the ed and izzy tags are a little more active tho that's mostly because of the meta and angst enjoyers (mood)#anyway as soon as i'm done with finals and have some free time during the break i am going to draw so much old man yaoi #and maybe finally do more of and share my steddyhands mermaid au lol #also one more thing #if i'm sad about how much less steddyhands and stizzy stuff is happening #i am sending so many thoughts and prayers ™ to the frenchie and izzy and lucius and izzy shippers bc goddamn #they also got fucked over this season #we all thought we were winning and then suddenly we all got smacked in the face about it adfgfkj

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peachymaryobrien · 5 months

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Lockwood wishes to justify the fact that he's alive. He's subconsciously trying to deserve permission to live while constantly challenging himself and taking risks. It's like shouting, "Look at me, I don't care about myself, i didn't ask for this."

People die. Unfortunately, that's the rough reality. But if a part of you is also dying with them, what do you do? They just gone, while you have to deal with this mess that is left of you. How to live when every breath you take is causing pain because it feels like you took that breath from someone else?

I'm just so relieved that in the end, he comes to peace with this pain that haunts him since forever.

#oh well I'm in a mood for angst today #anthony lockwood #save lockwood and co #lockwood netflix #lockwood #lockwood and co #lockwood and co netflix #locknation #locklyle #jonathan stroud #books

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ying-doodles · 8 days

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I can't remember who said it but someone on twitter brought up the time difference between earth and hell (one day on earth is about one month in hell) and since javier died 3 years before lloyd, he would have to had wait basically an entire lifetime to meet him again (~90 years) and that just broke me,, ( ; ω ; )

no wonder he threatened lloyd to either stay with him in hell for at least a few hundred years or become an archangel...

#ying talks about tged #the greatest estate developer #tged #tged spoilers #crown prince sells medicine #cpsm #cpsm spoilers #sorry guys i'm in an angsty mood rn #and considering my next drawing it will continue #prepare for angst weekend i suppose

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kyymie · 7 months

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okay, but like, having to be in the kraang dimension for who knows how long and then getting eaten by one of them a few months later must've been traumatizing, no?

#not in the mood to write anything long in english #but please- discuss.#I need them angst #tmnt 2012 #also I'm making a tiny comic based on this (see my last post in my main blog)#cant wait for that one to finish :>

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things-arent-what-they-seem66 · 12 days

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This one is a slightly altered version of one of the prompts, because I thought it was a bit more interesting that way:

35. “I trusted you with my heart.” “Well, I’m sorry but you’re clearly very gullible.”

could work well in combination with these ones:

33. "You think I wanted this to happen?!” 49. “I fell in love, so hard, and so fast, but a part of me knew it wasn’t going to last.”

My thoughts/ideas: Sinner!Adam makes a deal with Lucifer for protection, and falls for him incredibly hard after being reminded of how they were in Eden. Luci is mostly just fucking with him for the feeling of power over the former angel. Their perspectives on the relationship are different, and Adam shows his trust by confessing some of his feelings for Luci. Sadly it doesn't work out. Or maybe it does?? Maybe Luci changes his mind after? The ending is all open for whatever your mind can come up with.

As always, take every prompt however you want, include or leave out whatever you prefer, and have fun with it!!

Indigo (loved what you did with my first request!!!!)

*Cracks knuckles* Buckle up Buckaroos! This one's gonna hurt.

I'm glad you're enjoying them 😁

Content Warning: Mildly graphic smut

Adam sobbed into his pillow, his heart shattered a hollow feeling in his chest. How could he be so fucking stupid? He should have known better than to try and tell Lucifer his true feelings.

He didn't use the word love. Adam didn't want to go crazy in case Lucifer wasn't there yet and scare him away. The conversation was burned into his mind.

"I really like you, Luci." It was the truth even if it wasn't a full confession of feelings.

He didn't expect his answer to be a blank stare. "Well, I don't completely hate you if that's what you want to hear."

Completely? "The fuck do you mean completely?"

"Jesus Adam, what do you think it means? You didn't really think I have feelings for you, do you?" Lucifer smirked at the shocked and hurt look on the sinners face. This asshole has hurt so many people, it was only fitting that Lucifer be the one to hurt him back.

So why did those words hurt him too? Like he was lying?

"B-but, I trusted you with my heart." Adam said, he felt his chest was heavy. This was going so wrong so fast. He thought at least that Lucifer LIKED him, they were having sex for fuck sakes!?

"Well I'm sorry, you're clearly very gullible and desperate. That's on you, boo." Lucifer said, he wanted to hurt Adam, but the broken look on his face didn't make him feel as good as thought it would.

"B-but, w-w-we...."

"Have sex? Yeah sure, you're a good lay. Like you were made to take it. But that's all that's good here. Why do you think I only want to fuck you from behind?"

Adam hadn't thought about it, he just assumed it was an easier position. Bile rose in his throat, fuck he was so stupid! How could he think that things could be like they were in Eden? Had he really forgotten that this guy is the literal devil.

He had to get the fuck out of there. Adam felt his heart shatter as he ran away to his room in the hotel. Slamming and locking the door he threw himself onto his bed and just let it all out. He sobbed into his pillow, he hadn't cried like this in years.

So that brings him to the now. Sniffing sadly into his tear stained pillow, wishing he would just die. Why did no one love him? He deserved it, even sinners filthier than him had love!

Maybe he didn't deserve it......

Lucifer stood there, feeling like a sack of shit. Well fuck, that didn't feel the way it was supposed. Adam's heart broken face was tattooed on his eyelids every time he blinked, making his own heart ache.

Okay, maybe the devil did return Adam's feelings. But he wasn't supposed to! This has been about power and dominance over the fallen angel, making him powerless at the king's finger tips. The way he felt under him.....

But now, now he took notice of the little things Adam did like how his nose crinkled when he smiled, or how his eyes would shine when he'd speak about rock music or how his laugh was contagious and loud and warm.

As for why he only had sex with him from behind, Lucifer knew that if he looked into those golden eyes while in the act his fate would be sealed.

Fuck. Maybe it already was.

He had to make this right.

So now Lucifer stood in front of Adam's door. He thought about knocking but knew he may not be let in, so he used a portal.

The sight before him broke his own heart. This isn't what he wanted. "Adam?"

Adam jumped at his voice and glared, though he looked more sad than angry. His face being stained with tears didn't help. "The fuck do you want? Get out!"

"No. Look, I'm sorry I was wrong." Lucifer sat down at the edge of Adams bed, the sinner flinched and moved away slightly.

"No you're not."

"Yes I am."

"What's the matter? Afraid you won't get fucking laid again asshole?" Adam seethed as he glared daggers at the king.

"I wanted to hurt you. For everything you've done." Lucifer started he watched Adams face crease in concentration. "But in doing so, I ended up hurting myself too. I didn't expect to have any feelings for you Adam. Hell, I didn't expect you to have feelings for me."

"You think I wanted this to happen?" Adam sat up to properly look at Lucifer. "I fell in love so hard and so fucking fast." Adam felt his eyes water again, might as well spill the whole beans. "Part of me knew this wouldn't last."

"You love me?" Lucifer asked, well shit this changes things.

Adam looked away. Here we go again, he's going to get his heart ripped out twice in one day. Adam squeaked when he felt lips crashed against his own, he was pinned to the mattress with Lucifer on top of him. Adam should push him away, stay mad. But that kiss both made him ache and healed him in one.

Lucifer snuck his tongue into Adams mouth, he smiled when he pulled a weak moan from the sinner. He would fix this, he had to. He couldn't let Adam get away again, it has been too hard to get him back after last time. "Let me make it up to, baby."

Sure enough, looking Adam in the eye like this only sealed in his true feelings. Seeing the hope and love in those beautiful golden eyes had him in a vice grip.

Adam should tell him no, kick him out. But his heart yearned for any affection that the king would give, he didn't care how he got it as long as he did. "Better make it worth my fucking while, dick hole."

And he did. This was the first time that Lucifer had sex with Adam facing him, in missionary. His gaze never leaving Adams. It was soft, slow, and sweet Lucifer made it all about Adam making sure he felt every little sensation. He whispered praises and sweet nothings into his ear, kissing his neck and mouth gently.

Adam soaked it up like a sponge, his head swimming his heart beating so fast. "Ooooh Luci.~"

"Yeah, that's it darling." Lucifer kissed him firmly, stealing the air from Adams lungs.

How could he have almost let him get away? Adam was his, mind, body, heart, and soul. That last one literally. He would never let him go, so maybe it was fine to give him something in return. He whispered it in Adams ear, like a velvet caress. "I do love you."

Long legs wrapped around him pulling him deeper. "I love you, too." Adam weeped, a tear rolled down his cheek. He held on to Lucifer for dead life like he'd float away. "Ahhhhh!" Adam came, bliss taking him over.

Lucifer followed behind, they stayed there like that for a while, breath mingling together as they panted. Lucifer cupped Adams jaw and kissed him sweetly, he watched as Adam melted under his touch. The king swore he melted himself.

He held him close, they said nothing for a while. "Did you mean it?"

Lucifer looked down into those eyes and yes, he knew he meant it. They were filled with love, hope, apprehension, and fear. "Yes I meant it."

Adam smiled weakly and oh, how that soft look was one Lucifer wanted to protect and keep in place. He placed a kiss in his soft hair, resting his chin there as he held Adam close.

From this moment forth he vowed to never intentionally hurt Adam.

Making him happy felt so much better.

#adamsapple #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x adam #ask #smut #angst #i'm in an angsty mood today #happy ending

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rinstagrams · 1 year

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sweet nothing. kita shinsuke x reader. inspired by "sweet nothing" by taylor swift.

they say the end is coming, everyone’s up to something i find myself running home to your sweet nothing. outside they’re push and shoving, you’re in the kitchen humming all that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing.

the rain is gathering on your shoulders as you step inside the house, shaking the water off your umbrella before sticking it into its holder by the front door. a sigh, heavy with exhaustion, leaves your lips as you slip off your shoes after a long day at work. “i’m home,” you say into the silence.

there’s no verbal reply, but you’re greeted into the house by a warm light and the smell of something delicious. “shin?” you say softly, your stomach growling at the smell wafting through the air. it’s coming from the kitchen, you deduce as you make your way over.

you find your husband there, back to you as he works at the stove.

a smile spreads across your face like butter.

there’s a song playing from his phone on the counter, you realize. he must not have heard you come in. it’s low, but you can hear the sound of humming from his closed mouth, probably spread into a smile as he cooks. though you’d usually have your arms wrapped around his waist by now, you lean against the wall and watch with a small smile. all the exhaustion and irritation you'd felt from work just a minute earlier fades away.

you never thought you’d ever want this, let alone have it. a small house on the farm, which your husband cares for while you’re at work. coming home to him after a long day. such a life seemed so simple, so mundane to you as a teenager, but now you realize that it’s everything you could ever ask for. shinsuke, you know, is all that you need. nothing else.

“oh—you’re home.” your husband turns on his heel and you chuckle at the fluffy pink apron he has on. at the sight of him opening his arms, you immediately rush into them and find yourself pressed flush against his familiar chest. “you made my favorite,” your voice mushes against his shirt.

“‘course. your favorite meal for my favorite girl.”

“mmm,” you hum. “i love you, shin.”

there’s a kiss pressed to the top of your head. “i love ya too, sweetheart.”

finally, you’re home.

#kita shinsuke fluff #kita shinsuke x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #kita fluff #kita x reader #haikyuu angst #kita shinsuke #haikyuu #kita #oh to come home to kita every day #i'm just in a kita + taylor swift mood today i guess #i wanted to to write to sweet nothing so badly and the only person that fit in my mind was the man shinsuke of course

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