#definitely not angst

[licially]

Inflammable Devotion. [Lucaby]

// A random angst fic for @blogplutocrat's Lucaby, I finally decided to post it on here after some consideration. Be warned, it is quite corny and the ending is lacklustre at best.

From whence the fire started, burned down the house. The fire raged forth and forth came a frantic and exhausted figure, screaming out something lost to the rage. The overheating of such magnitude had her scrambling through the household, her heels nowhere to be seen as the planks beneath her increased in heat. The middle of the clock tower boasted no hiding place, and if there is it’s highly improbable he’d be anywhere above. Right?

“Rocky?! ROARK?!!” 

Her shouts, briefly interrupted by the smog that acted second hand to her already blurring vision, as she reduced to more a crouch in hopes of finding him. 

Wherever he may be.

Her voice strained, on the verge of a meltdown, as she continued calling out for her lover’s response. She’d been knowing of this place ever since childhood: a core memory of her first times being friends during a service where Rocky and Freckle met Lola by complete accident.

They’d been regularly meeting up here every week ever since they both ran into each other, and it’s where they’d share everything: secrets about their families, occasional sad times with one another, hugs and kisses from both of them alike, laughter and, sometimes, anger. Throughout it all, after the church was left abandoned, they’d be here at all times, a gentle reminder of the origins of their relationship.

Now it’s nothing but an effigy of their past selves, and soon to be a murderer and funeral.

She stared back at the familiar window, where she had spent half her lifetime sitting - singing tunes and waiting for him - and found it blocked by the rubble that ripped out from above it. Her one reliable way in and out of the tower is now blocked.

The other exit? Around a burning hole in the floor and straight out of the front door where a staircase would be. One that led to the top, and somewhat frequently visited by the two as they traveled up the tower and looked out of the windows towards St. Louis, or by the farmlands that stretched into the never-ending horizons, or towards the sunset.

She precariously tiptoed her want through the lukewarm floorboards, watching out for anything that would endanger her life on the floor. 

Yet she didn’t see a falling support beam that fell over her head.

She didn’t see it coming, nor did she expect it.

Nor did she expect Rocky to hold up the wooden stick of fire, as she gazed at a daze.

“GO MS DELUCA!”

The enigmatic knight in shining armor screamed through her quiet admiration, as he held it for long enough for her to run towards the exit: a straightforward path towards the light from the outside, only made clear from the vast contrast of the blast furnace of the interior.

However, she wasn’t letting him go just yet. Despite the heat and the already collapsing infrastructure she didn’t want to lose Rocky over something that can be more disposable than his life. She stood back, amidst the flames, and grabbed onto Rocky’s fur as his other arm that was holding up the beam soon found its fabric burning.

“WE CAN GO TOGETHER, C’MON!”

She yelled, the building shaking with every second passing. It seems the higher roof is bound to collapse any time soon.

This time Rocky didn’t resist, and instead made a run for it alongside Lola as the two chased each other out of the ensuing fireball that was burning. A million thoughts and prayers passed through her head in an instant, looking up for anything that can protect them from anything that might disrupt their chances of escaping this hell.

As they kept running, Rocky without his jacket and shoes given that they both caught on fire, Lola slowed down a little because of her overexposure to the smog, causing her to cough as a reaction from the pollution from ashes as Rocky soon reached the start of the staircase. 

He looked back, seeing Lola struggling to keep up with him. He felt a wave of heat and anxiety overcome him, as he needed the both of them out of that place. The creaking continued, as he sprinted into action immediately. 

He reached back to Lola, and with an inaudible ‘excuse me’ exhaled, carried her like a bride towards the exit. The fire reached an ultimatum, as the bell’s distant chime soon thundered down a wreckage of death and destruction. Its collapse soon sent another wave of dust blooming in every direction, as the duo quickly ran out the door into the open air. 

Soon it was a run for survival, as they ran back out of the residence, behind the wooden fences that stood between it and the road that led them back home, and through a big clearing towards the left side.

They both breathed a huge sigh of relief.

Death couldn’t catch up to their one life.

Yet it feels like all eight other lives have been lost.

The flames amidst the tower of inferno burned down, as the night sky sundered by the crackles and illuminating the very fabrics. One of such was time, as for the other was a duo of scared cats running away to save themselves from a demise they wasted all eight of their lives on.

The bright yellow cat, reduced by the flames, exhausted by the stamina, roughed around the edges more than the support beams of the tower, had seen what the afterlife had to offer. Lola had barely escaped the chaos with some quick thinking from both her and her fiance; Rocky. From a slanted hill, slightly facing the church, they both sat there. One unconsciously doing so, the other silently watching.

She didn’t know what to do anymore.

This place: 

All of its memories, 

All of its intricacy, 

All of their lives.

Everything they’d built together; a smile, a slight nudge, silent laughing and crying, an embrace, a dance amidst the chaos.

Reduced to a point of no return.

She didn’t have much to fear, yet her one and only fear kicked itself alight after a mishap with a candle. She needn’t blame the person responsible, and she cannot blame the architecture of this abandoned church after it’s been desecrated for years after the churchgoers moved out of this quaint town.

She heard the roars of the fire even from afar. Although damp, it was still a death scream.

The church bell soon finally hit the ground for one last time.

The same dull tone that they’ve accustomed themselves to after meeting there for so long.

Now ringing out something that dissolved into the charred scars of the past

She aimlessly stared at Rocky, her charred hands brushing against his hair. 

Past all of the time she had been sitting outside, watching the scattered embers dance, she had been trying and trying to get Rocky to wake up. So far, everything had little to no effect, and it only made worse by her emotional state.

She had two definitions of everything, and both laid in front of them; one ablaze, the other presumably unconscious.

Feared dead.

She hasn’t heard anything from him.

She leaned closer to him to see if anything pointed to a sign of life: breathing, a pulse, or a response.

She held her hand over his nose, to see if anything faint was picking up. Knowing him, he was a silent sleeper. A complete 180 from his destructive behavior and oftentimes explosive personality. 

Yet here he’s making no such notion towards any of those. Even back at the burning tower, he had a look of fear in his eyes.

A fear uncontested by his fearlessness.

A fear that overtook his line of thinking.

A fear, whose lethal potency finally absorbed itself through to Lola as she soon felt nothing blowing against her finger.

“Rocky?”

She felt her words vanish into her emotions again, as she moved onto the second sign of life that she knew about: his pulse. 

Her hopes dwindled further and further, he tended to be the person who got himself into much, much more trouble than he could handle on his own. On a daily basis, he’d be back rarely with his entire suit intact, save for whatever he had on him at the time. They’d gone through about three violins together already, about 30-40 jackets, and 20 odd hats, the latter of which was painful to try to find a person willing to recreate that hat. She still held hope that he’d be safe from his business’ multiple red flags and subsequent dangers, and without fail he’d be back in her arms safe and sound. 

Yet today that faith was tested.

She leaned closer towards his chest, his shirt dirtied and scratched from the fire.

Her left ear lowered to mask the sounds of the crackles as she pressed her other ear against his chest. Even through all of the troubles, it felt soft. It felt like a home outside of home, it felt like an uninterrupted cool breeze on a hot day. 

Even now, she could still feel that sense of everything. She hoped that ‘everything’ would be the same.

She heard nothing.

No rhythm in his heart. No life.

Nothing.

She hesitated in a moment of dread. 

Her thinking of hope turned into a sea of what-ifs. What if she left this place sooner? What if she never pulled him back here at all, thus saving his life and hers? 

Then, the tears came rushing out.

Her sobbing, masked by the still ongoing embers from beyond, took her towards the point of no return. She’d been everything towards him, and he’s been everything she had hoped for. Her entire life ran itself through her mind as she weeped and sobbed onto Rocky, still laying there facing up into the partly cloudy skies. 

She hugged him, as she sobbed louder and louder. Her nose became stuffed, as she held him closer to her and clinged onto any sort of life from him at all. Even though it didn’t seem like any was there to begin with.

Bewildered, her head began to spin from all of the loud crying.

She felt her body exhaust all life into it, she pleaded to anything that could save her from this nightmare. She didn’t want to be alone yet again, she never wanted it. 

Why did she have to think of such an idea?

Why did she pull him back here to begin with, even though they’d both moved on from this place as a whole?

Her world began to spin. Her headache had been creeping up and down ever since they made it outside, but it was made worse and worse.

Why? Why? All of these whys and what ifs, all of her sobbing, all of it.

They unite, in grief.

She stopped. It felt like… a weight was lifted off of her somehow. 

Her eyes remained closed, yet…

She can’t hear the fire anymore. The winds– seeming stopped.

Her hands seemed to be holding to Rocky still, right?

Reluctant, yet still shaking, she opened her eyes.

“Ms Deluca?”

Rocky soon met her eyes, very much alive and confused, in a room far from any fire, nor any grass field. He was far from anything, far from dead. The room was lit unevenly by a window, towards her left, and the birds outside soon chimed into her hearing instead of the haunting fire.

She looked down, soon realizing they were both in pajamas and that she kept holding onto Rocky, in the same position she had held him in that dream. She let go of him, slightly embarrassed and more confused than anything. How did she wind up back here? Why was she in a whole different… place?

“You’ve… held onto me and cried for an hour straight. I’m getting worried about you. Are you… alright?”

She put her hands on his face, just a bit less confused than before but she was blissful. She was relieved she got to see him again. 

“I… I’m sorry.”

She choked slightly, and embraced him again. This time, softly, and more quietly as her hopeful flame burned on. 

#lackadaisy #rocky rickaby #definitely not angst #GODDDDDDDD I SHOULD HAVE WRITTEN THIS BETTER #licially

[void019]

I LOVED SHADING THIS HGVJJHGVYJFCKUYGIYCT

Also, there WAS supposed to be an extra panel showing a gravestone with the flowers next to it, but the art app started LAGGING AUUUUUGH!!!!! and I got too lazy anyways. So. Yeah

Edit: forgot to tag @askscrappyandlayer and also tagging @plutowhoops just to annoy him >:D

#animaticverse #second time shading!! #definitely not angst #angst #alsol if you want to request any art.. i will gladly do that!! ask box is always open! #but. NO HUMANS!! I cant draw those... THINGS... #but yes i like draw #poor scrappy. shes trying so hard to keep it together ujftjytctkcjyxf #i like to think that. even though she is usually pretty happy #she having a depression arc sortof cuz HER GF DIED NUUUUUUUUU #ONE MORE THING: why am i good at drawing tears

[egophiliac]

What do you like about the Diasomnia boys if I may ask?

I always love hearing about the different reasons people enjoy characters.

I mean, c'mon. he has split custody over Sebek okay

also, Lilia in particular has maybe the best timeskip character development of all time

#art #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland spoilers #twisted wonderland episode 7 spoilers #twisted wonderland book 7 spoilers #twisted wonderland episode 7 chapter 4 spoilers #twisted wonderland book 7 chapter 4 spoilers #stage in playful land #i hope this is legible whoops #anon i am sorry but you made the fatal mistake of asking me to talk about diasomnia #insert 'i just think they're neat' jpg #i do like the other characters a lot but they are definitely my favorites #they just hit a lot of my favorite things in characters i guess! #yes even you sebek even though you keep shrieking NINGEN at me #(it's okay he gets Character Development™ later) #and their dynamic! it's great! these guys frikking love each other SO much and they WILL have terrible terrible angst about it #ohoho delicious #give me all your emotional hangups baybeeeee #also somewhere in there i went from 'i like them all equally (but lilia is the most fun to draw)' #to 'lilia is absolutely my favorite (and still the most fun to draw) (EVEN MORE fun now thank you swishy ponytail!)' #(it was probably when his candy coating got a little scratched and whoops all the tragedy fell out) #(where's that 'get loved loser' post because i need to staple it to lilia's forehead) #i am extremely bad at putting things into words so please don't ask me to explain it any further #just know that the diafam is everything to me and if we don't get more episode 7 soon i'm going to crumble into dust and blow away #we'll be getting the crowleytimes on monday and maybe there will be. idk. some foreshadowing or something in his groovy #probably not but LOOK i'm desperate

[reds-skull]

There's a lack of Gaz angst out there I feel, so I'm doing my part and letting him suffer as well.

#call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #cod fanart #cod ghost #cod soap #cod gaz #this can be gazsoap but i intend them to be more like brothers #also ghost was definitely also having nightmares thats why he was at the gym #angst #btw im using fanart as a place to experiment so unfortunately my comics will never have a consistent style </3 #dont let my other art fool you i will make these boys suffer a lot

[sweeneydino]

Father and Son.

Happy ending

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #art #rottmnt comic #rottmnt leo #rottmnt splinter #rottmnt art #artwork #angst #baby turtles #turtle tots #i definitely didnt do this cause some one made me mad #not at all #tmnt art #rottmnt movie #tw death #tw blood #splinter is trying

[aphel1on]

AURGH auwarghh the autistic parental trauma... the epi was wacky hijinks then dropped this on us out of nowhere... (sobs) laios... laiiiiooooos

#he just like me fr #dungeon meshi #laios touden #actuallyautistic #aphelion.txt #dunmeshi #laios #autism things #im definitely chewing on that marcille lore/angst too but the laios nightmare sequence hit close to home!! #dont think falin had a great relationship with their parents either #i mean aside from being willing to abandon her in the dream. idk if that's 100% accurate to how they acted. #it didnt seem like her affinity for ghosts was gonna go down real good in that flashback #also i need to write that post abt how falin has girl autism (dont ask me what that means unless you want to enter an unskippable cutscene) #actually its pretty easy to hit most dunmeshi chars w the hammer of autism laios is just the most obvious #senshi hyperfixating and having meltdowns (Waterwalk Incident.) and low empathy for people until he's gotten Attached #i need to go find that post someone made about chilchuck being the token allistic it was so fucking funny #i have like 3 more dunmeshi autism metas in my mental queue apparently. please make me shut up

[kentopedia]

when nanami dies, there's a box of letters waiting for you.

months pass before you find it. it's not until you're cleaning out his things, wondering if you can stand to get rid of them, that the letters are there waiting for you.

its no bigger than a shoebox, dark wood engraved with an intricate design, one that you're certain kento picked out specifically for you. you've never seen it before, and you open it with shaky hands, tears already pooling in your eyes at all the memories your lover left behind.

inside, there's a stack of letters, each one dated at the top with kento's name intricately signed at the end. some are in sealed envelopes with beautiful stamps. some multiple pages long and include some little haikus that are far too lovely to be about someone like you. and some are just quick little notes scribbled on napkins.

your spread them across the floor, staring down at each of the tiny little hearts he'd drawn next to your name on each note. even though you'd been together for years, you had no idea that he'd been writing all of them—hours of his life dedicated to this little pastime, and you'd been clueless.

they're like journal entires. insights into kento's life and your relationship, both the good moments and the tough ones. he leaves behind everything to you, entrusting you to keep his entire existence safe in your hands.

you read the letters with tears streaming down your face, and you choke on your sobs, trying so hard not to smear the ink from the wetness on your cheeks.

when you pull one out with shaky hands, you realize it's a decade old. the writing has faded a bit, and the paper is yellowing, but it's kento's handwriting, nonetheless.

it makes you near sick to read it. for a minute, you have to set it aside, cry into your knees as you curl into a ball, wondering when you'll ever stop feeling this empty.

this letter is from a sixteen year old kento; a quiet boy who had a silly little crush on girl in his year that was much too pretty for him. and in the letter, he says he knows you're too good for him, but he can't help but love you. he can't help but hope that one day, in a few years, you'll want to marry him as much as he wants to marry you.

it hurts, burns in your chest because even back then, kento had known you were the one. he'd known and he wrote you these letters because he'd felt that his life would be cut short. he'd felt like that since haibara died, and geto left, and it started to seem like the life of a sorcerer was always doomed to be an unhappy one.

kento had been so afraid that his friend died without knowing how much he meant to him, and he refused to make the same mistake with you.

there are letters from even when you weren't together. from the years that you were eighteen, nineteen, twenty, and kento had been so desperate to leave jujutsu behind that it meant he had to leave you too. even then, even when you were nothing more than a shadow from his past, he adored you.

you feel so outside of yourself, nauseous and filled with so much grief that you're not sure where to put it.

sometimes, you’d doubted if kento felt as loved by you as you did by him. but there's pages and pages of him speaking of how special you make him feel, even when you were separated, and he missed you so much that the thoughts of you consumed him.

you spend hours going through the letters, and then, you see one dated halloween, 2018. even breathing feels hard, but you can't stop yourself from reading it, even though you know it will destroy you, know that you won't be able to leave the house for days after reading it.

in the letter, kento says he loves you. he talks about the day before, when you'd convinced him to watch some halloween movies, and though most of them were silly, he didn't care how he spent his time with you as long as it made you smile.

he says that he feels bad for cancelling your dinner plans, and he's going to be thinking of you when he's in shibuya. that it's such a shame that being a sorcerer is so much more fulfilling than a salaryman, because it cuts into your time together, and you’re the most important part of his life.

he says he loves you again. that he really hopes he makes it back from shibuya because even though he's never told you, he wants a family with you.

he says he’s decided he'll bring it up when he gets home safe and sound. he’s not sure how you’ll feel about it, but you better know that he’ll always love you no matter what you decide, even if what he really wants is a little girl that looks just like you. and lastly, he hopes that you don't stay up too late waiting up for him—you’ve been so tired lately, and it’s making him feel bad.

his name is at the bottom with another little heart.

you let the letter fall from your hands.

#AHHH #so this is the aforementioned nanami thought <3 #im definitely coping very well #i miss him :( i love him :( #beloved kento 💋 ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ #nanami x reader #kento nanami x reader #nanami angst #xoxo rylie 💌 ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

[dclovesdanny]

Dc x dp prompt

Death defying 2/2

Nightwing was kidnapped by a cult as a sacrifice to the ghost king, and the cultists dramatically ripped off Nightwing’s mask when the Ghost King appeared.

The problem? Danny had just left Dick a few days ago since Dick seemed to be avoiding him(Dick was busy with vigilante work and police work) and was not expecting to find out his ex was a vigilante.

Damn, does this mean he has a type?

#funny #misunderstanding #angst #dc x dp #dcxdp #death defying #dick is wondering why the ghost king is staring at him #before slaughtering the cultists and bringing him to his apartment #Danny is so conflicted #he needs to think #he is definitely calling jazz to talk out his feelings #Danny has a type: vigilantes

[fu-cough]

you should find another guiding light, guiding light, but i shine so bright~ // adrien agreste doodle

#i listened to dear reader and well #me: you have a lot of things to do you should focus!! #brain: do you mean: get suddenly inspired and do your bi-monthly drawing? #by doodle i mean i just threw in a whole concept and didnt bother with the rendering #my art #miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #also i had to manually lasso all the window frames to blur the bg because i refuse to paint in separate layers #(i am forgetful and disorganized) #angst #<- my strange addiction #i also didnt bother with rendering the ads but that was purposeful and it has meaning and it definitely doesnt mean that i just got lazy #something something our boy is detailed the ads are all abstract #the bg is why i will never pursue architecture

[coffeeisfortheresponsible]

i heard we were taking about skybound recently

#ninjago #lego ninjago #jay ninjago #ninjago jay #ninjago skybound #ninjago season 6 #ninjago s6 #jay walker #skybound #ciftrdrawsninjago #ciftrdraws #anyways quick anatomy study turned into. jay angst. #average ninjago fan behavior #OH SHOOT #i forgot content warnings hold on #cw blood #cw injury #tw blood #i definitely missed something #but idk

[celestialwrites]

six word dialogue prompts ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

@celestialwrites for more!

♡ “you chose her, i knew it.”

♡ “stop making me love you, idiot!”

♡ “i wish our fate could change.”

♡ “remember how much he loved her?”

♡ “i refute to let this change.”

♡ “why must all good things leave?”

♡ “you loved him, just not enough.”

♡ “i wish i died back then.”

♡ “her face haunts my dreams forever.”

♡ “to the stars and back, love.”

♡ “never forget what i said, okay?”

♡ “you’re a dumbass, please know that.”

♡ “i’ll be waiting, keep your promise.”

♡ “finding love like that, it’s impossible.”

♡ “thanks, for giving me the will.”

♡ “you’re too good for this world.”

♡ “i’m too dashingly gorgeous to die.”

♡ “enough! stop pretending like you care.”

♡ “please don’t ever lose your heart.”

♡ “as long as i have you.”

♡ “don’t make me regret not dying.”

♡ “people are simple, gone too soon.”

♡ “i never ever regretted knowing you.”

REBLOG TO SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL WRITERS<3

#this is so fun bc when you have too little or too many words it really causes you to think of how you can switch up a sentence #definitely recommend writing lists like these to get your mind thinking #writers on tumblr #writers of tumblr #writing prompts #dialogue prompt #prompts #romance prompts #fluffy prompts #fluffy romance #domestic fluff #angst prompt #creative prompts #creative writing #creative inspiration #angst prompts #angsty prompt #writing list #writing on tumblr #writing ideas #writing community #writing inspiration #fluff romance #romance prompt #angsty prompts #angst writing #fluffy prompt #writing fluff

[rizsu]

you're married to geto suguru, yet you plan to kill him. interesting, right? truth be told; you despise suguru. you loathe his touch, hate his voice, detest his entire person as a whole. you never loved him — it was simply just toleration.

suguru... he's a decent husband, at most. he gives you money — which is most important — he buys you gifts, he's home, at least. suguru gives you everything but himself. you cried for his touch, he never gave it. you begged for his presence, he said he had pressing business to attend to. he's the best but worst fucking husband ever.

it's not only his negligence, it's him slowly replacing you with someone else. slowly, but surely, you've noticed that another person has been consuming your presence, wringing you dry of the little authority you had within the geto residence. at first, it bothered you to the core. every time you spoke to suguru about these concerns, your voice echoed through the walls like a broken record. in one ear and out the other; heard but not listened.

your tears dropped, yet to him it did nothing but cause a wet mess. he'd always sigh, feeling guilty to leave you spiraling in your emotions. "don't cry, love," he'd say, whispering sweet nothings in your head. he'd bring you to his chest, completely swallowing you in his hold. his fingers would caress your body, reminding you that you're a geto, you're apart of him now. you're not alone. only the foolish marionette will melt in its master's dull words. once the marionette was you, twice is what it won't be.

the honeymoon phase wilted, what's left is nothing short of two adults tied together by a piece of paper. a liar is what you refuse to be. if anyone may ask, you will not lie. it's true, your heart feels heavy. you miss the suguru you met as naive teenagers, you miss the suguru who loved you from the moon and back. unfortunately, what comes must go. you've grown tired of being the sole one who reminds him about anniversaries and birthdays.

his effort to maintain the marriage no longer exists. his attraction to the mistress heightens every week. it hurts, yes, but you're numb to it. hell be damned you've become the forgotten wife but never will you ever be the wife who allows her cheating husband to be.

no, never. they won't get a laugh out of you — they won't get the last say. the blame glazes over both, yet it soaks suguru more. as a married man, he should've known better than to entertain a mere lady's lust to him. now comes his price to pay, and soon she will pay hers. a circus that walks together, dies together.

it's never easy planning a murder. you don't want to get caught — prison isn't somewhere you'd want to be. the easiest and most effiecent way to ensure suguru's death will be poisoning. not just any poisoning, however. a poison that kills naturally; something that'll make his death appear natural.

suguru's always been a healthy man, using an excuse such as "he fell ill," won't work. he doesn't have much enemies. his peers loved him. a death by food poisoning seems much more acceptable. food poisoning occurs in many ways: for example, if the food has been left out for too long, boom, food poisoning. it's not unusual for one to die by it, so the plan sets sail.

──

one: errands.

as usual, your role of playing the forgotten wife will remain the same. running your ‘errands’ will be as easy as flipping a page, suguru pays you no attention. today it'll be the same. the only obstacle would be to find the energy to arise off of the bed.

the subtle sunlight grants the room a warming aura, giving the perfect contrast together with the air conditioner. like always, suguru's gone. the only trace of him being here would be your memory of him sneaking in last night. at least he has enough manners to not wake you.

same old, same old. you'll only waste your energy worrying about him, let's just finish the morning routine.

"morning," out of habit, you greet the empty house. coming out of slumber to be greeted by an empty home used to do numbers to you. now, it doesn't. its merely a house cosplaying as a home.

the oh-so fluttering dreams of a married life with suguru have dusted away. if only you can go back in time and stop your lovesick self. whatever, no use dwelling on it now. there's a plan to layout.

a single toasted slice of bread, your bottle of water, a handbag, and the car keys are all you took out the door with you. the house keys are attached together with the car keys so it's not a worry. not like you'll be back before suguru anyway.

the drive feels silent. although the radio's on, it feels empty. maybe it's the effects of your clouded mind, or maybe it's you attempting to clear your mind. either way, it's nothing but trivial matters. at this very moment you most likely have to stitch up a lie believable enough to obtain the poison.

chilly, is what you think. you're at the destination; it's an apartment complex that was in the makings but was abandoned. it's dirty, puddles of water decorate the floor, and its filled with dealers and criminals alike. can't blame them, it's the perfect place for a hideout. coming here alone as a woman is something you'd never do... without a weapon that is. you don't own a gun, but you do own a pocket knife.

"psst," someone calls out. they must be calling another person. let's just continue walking.

"you, woman," they call again. surely it's not you. let's just speed up the pace.

"oi, rude bitch 'm talking to you," they specify and surely enough they aren't calling you a bitch, right?

"you're not talking to me with that attitude," you turn around, raising an eyebrow at the man — or lady, you don't know. their face is covered and their clothes are baggy.

the stranger walks you to, and you walk backwards. okay, it's kinda getting creepy.

"any — any reason why you're coming to me?" you questioned, trying to mask your obvious worries.

"aren't you the one who's here for the poison, missy?" they stop walking, reaching into their pockets before bringing a small, white tube in view.

oops, you're caught off guard. if this is who you agreed to meet with you only hope they don't run with the poison.

"oh — yes, that's me! how'd you know?"

"have my ways. ain't a dealer if i don't know my clients — even if they're a one timer," they speak, handing you the tube. "name's siren. just an alias, don't question it."

you carefully take the tube, in return you quickly place the envelope in their hand. ready to get out of there, you ramble out your words, "okay, thank you! the money is in there, bye! see you never!"

siren watches your frame scatter away from them, the sounds of your low heels clicking the floor making them chuckle. crazy woman, they think, returning their focus back on the money.

you're back in the car safe and sound. you know what, it's time to go back. you lock your doors, hide the tube in your handbag, and turn up the radio. now that the errand's over, you probably won't go outside for two days.

ah, home. nothing beats being home. except suguru's car is parked so that means he's here. the home is now back to the house. inhaling a deep breath, you mentally prepare yourself to have any interaction with him. you have your doubts but something inside you screams that he's going to talk.

"where have you been?"

well, that was quick. you only managed to take your heels off. talk about an impatient man.

"out for a breather, why?" you return the question, walking into the living room without glancing at him.

"all right," he says, not continuing the conversation.

ladies and gentlemen, never get married. suguru no longer cares to hold conversations. you can tell the ugliest lies to him and he wouldn't care. as long as you're back, it's okay. you're used to it, yet a silent voice in you wished that he would've asked more questions.

you continue on without glancing at him, making your way to the shared bedroom. it's a little after noon, you'll take this time to relax.

──

two: weird individual(s).

it's hot — you feel hot. a burning sensation engulfs your head. this wasn't supposed to happen. you were making dinner, casually sipping on your glass of wine as you go along. suguru, for some reason, finally showed himself for the day. without a word, he seated himself near the counter, pouring himself a glass of wine and keeping his eyes on you.

to say you're not uncomfortable would be a severe understatement. his eyes create holes in your back — it's annoying. say something if you want to, asshole, you complained in your mind but truly, you yourself weren't going to say anything.

and so, you carried on. dinner being cooked and suguru being weird. it got even more weird when he stood up. you're at the sink, cleaning as you go along. suguru's finished with his glass, so it's not out of the ordinary for him to stand behind you, trapping you with both arms as he washes his glass, right? yeah, it's pretty weird.

"uh, do you mind?" you softly spoke, which was also weird. why is everything just weird tonight?

suguru stays in that position, humming to a tune you're not familiar with.

"is it wrong to be near my wife?"

oh, now i'm his wife.

"not at all, suguru. it's just that i'm busy at the moment," you told half the truth. you are busy, but you don't want him near you.

"is that so?" he spoke, removing one hand only to place it on your hip. slowly, he begins to squeeze the flesh, lowering his head into the junction of your neck and shoulder. his voice, though muffled, can be heard with a low, seductive tone, "missed you all day, why not busy yourself with me?"

bullshit, but it's not bad. you can do with some physical destressing.

"not in the kitchen."

"sure."

and that's how you found yourself tangled on top of him on the sofa. sloppily making out with him, hands found freedom in his hair, and his hands found home on your hips. it's a hot mess, and you're kind of liking it. suguru may be a bitch, but he sure knows your body. it's been five years, after all.

"wait—" you broke the kiss, placing your hands on his chest. "let's st—stop," you spoke, stuttering as suguru leans his head to bite your neck.

"why?" he asks, curious at your sudden choice. you never stopped him before.

"i.. don't feel good, sorry suguru," you lied again. suguru isn't and is the problem. you'd love to go deeper with him but the realization that he's touched another woman like this disgusts you. it's no wonder you plan on killing him.

suguru doesn't speak. instead, he moves you off of him. "it's okay," he says, leaning in to give you a kiss on the cheek. it doesn't take long for him to leave you alone again. now you're feeling a pinch of guilt. i'm not wrong, right? he's the one who abandoned me.

you sigh, lifting yourself off the sofa. there's a dinner to indulge in and trust, you will enjoy it. you made it with your blood, sweat, tears, and some wine.

──

three: poison attempt day.

surprisingly, you felt energized today. as if someone charged six-hundred volts of energy to a dead battery. today's the day, hopefully. the man who cosplays himself as a husband is absent per usual. it's up to you to cook lunch.

you're already preparing; there's no time to waste. every minute needs your utmost attention — the kind of attention a predator gives its prey before hunting them. the one downside to this would be the poison's taste. it's not an overwhelming one, but it's there. anything with a strong scent comes with a strong taste, they say. you haven't put it to the test — no way, you're not suicidal — but the safer side's always better.

ginger, you think, ginger and onions overpower everything. bingo. a minute¹ change to the recipe's ingredients but it's nothing to fret over. trivial matters again. within an hour, lunch was finished with a cherry on top — except the cherry holds the uneven balance between suguru's life and death.

you removed your apron, flicked off the water from your hands after you washed it, and then threw yourself face-first onto the longer sofa. exhaustion massages your body, encouraging you to fall into its depths. its opponent, emotional drain, creeps up. your body's the platform, and they're the contestants. a battle of who will dominate you begins; a useless battle for the woman whose tears dried up long ago.

a heavy sigh escapes, i'm tired, you think. sliding your hands under your head, you use it to cushion the side of your face. it's quiet like always but you're left to your thoughts this time. it may just crown itself for being the first time you gave yourself leeway to part and understand your tangled emotions. it's like a ball of tangled wires: scattered yet neat. roads to untangle it are visible, yet its many wires frighten the person.

what you feel is nothing short of some doll who replaces her face to satisfy the owner. the marionette you once were and refuse to be again. she who shows you, you who show yourself, who is the real you? perhaps, it's all. everything is you, everything has become you. many versions of yourself dance around the stage, all moving towards to same goal: killing the one who drained them.

the clock ticks, each sounded second rips your skin apart. it's torturous, but soon it'll all be over. i think i need a nap, your last voice echoes away in your mind as you succumb to exhaustion. who knew planning a murder against your once beloved could've been this draining.

─

suguru lazily enters, slackening his tie. his eyes focus on the lunch decorating the dining table. soon, his eyes travel to your resting figure. after all, you're in his usual position. she's sleeping, he thinks of the obvious, deciding to keep a low profile as to not wake you.

however, being a man means that you're prone to making mistakes... especially loud ones. from the cup connecting with the floor to the fork clanging as it fell, it's been a rather loud attempt at serving himself some lunch.

he's sure that you're awake. well, not entirely awake, but conscious enough to hear everything around you. the blame is his to own, again.

"it's untouched..." suguru whispers, confused at the perfectly untouched food that lies before his eyes. maybe you got a change of eating routine.

lies, of course. you'd be nothing but a joker if you were to consume the same food you poisoned. suguru doesn't know this, however. he's picked his path and the path hides its true face; wicked and heartless, like a haunted house pretending to be a normal house to lure in its victims.

it's been a few minutes later and you're now fully awake. you haven't moved an inch to expose yourself — just mindlessly gazing into the void of your shared house. you're aware that he's home, aware that he's found himself lunch, and aware that the clock's ticking sound has gotten louder. almost as if it knows its counting down someone's death day.

"is he eating?" you whispered, peeking from the sofa's backrest. "oh, he is."

suguru's at the dining table, scrolling on his phone as he shoves a vegetable in his mouth. his actions fill you with guilt, excitement, and fear. for a reason only god knows, you don't want him eating anymore. may it be due to loving him half of your life, or may it be due to the guilt of killing someone who mattered to others. whatever, who cares. no one — no one will, you chant in your mind, attempting to convince yourself.

"wait, suguru—" you acted out of your own will, cutting your speech short when you regained yourself. what the fuck? you're leaning over the sofa's backrest, reaching an arm out to suguru. eyes wide open, you try to piece together a reasonable follow-up response.

"hm? something wrong?" suguru asks, mouth filled with food. he places his phone face down and tilts his head. he looks innocent, as if he's not a cheating, neglecting bastard of a husband. well, that's the way life goes. the evil masks themselves as the innocent, basking in those who are more innocent than themselves, slowly consuming their energy for their own. selfish, selfish people.

"ah," you begin, awkwardly lowering your hand. "is the food okay? i tried a new recipe."

i don't want to kill him.

"yeah, it's good," he responds, taking a sip of whatever he's drinking.

he's wronged me.

you walk towards the dining table, pulling out a chair to seat yourself in front of him. "i see... how was your morning?" you questioned, swallowing hard. your legs are shaking, you don't know why. your heart races, you can't answer why.

"boring, same old stuff. i met with my client though, she's fun to be around," suguru tells, poking the food with his fork to get a good bite.

i fucking hate him.

you don't speak after that. instead, you bite at the skin of your lower lip. your emotions try to join together, yet they won't. it's like a lava lamp, they'll never truly connect. every time you're away from suguru, your hatred tames. every time he's back, it heightens. it doesn't take much more than his voice to fuel your restless anger. you observe him, watching the way his throat bobs each swallow. something feels off.

the two of you continue in silence, simply observing each other. suguru takes it upon himself to do the dishes, you remain put in the chair. his phone remained with you, face down yet dings with notifications. you've always wondered what it's like to have him text you every day. once it was a memory of the teenage years... now it's a sour dream.

──

four: night, night.

it's the same night, you're in bed with suguru. both of you are under the same covers, yet you're both at the extreme ends of the bed. a large, empty space separates you two. neither are asleep nor do they wish to be awake. a heavy feeling rains over their shared room. the tension's strong enough to break the strongest thread.

suguru's the first to turn, rolling himself over to you. he extends an arm to secure over your waist; this brings you skin-to-skin with his torso and your back. his head lowers to yours, resting his chin on your head. you give no reaction except stiffing your body. what's he up to?

his extended arm caresses you lightly, mimicking patterns on your delicate skin. he takes a deep breath before exhaling.

"my love, i know you're planning to kill me," he softly speaks, waiting for you to respond.

your heart drops. what? he knows? it's probably a bluff. you opt for remaining the way you currently are. if you continue pretending, he'll most likely continue speaking the truth.

"i've been watching you. i don't blame you, dear. i've neglected you for quite some time. i've cheated on you with someone temporary. if i were you, i would've killed me sooner. however, i won't lie and say i'm not hurt. if my wife were to kill me, i'd prefer it to be in an easy, quick way. you've chosen your part and i can't change that, but promise me: on my deathbed, you'll be there. it's not a request to mock you, but a request of seeing you one last time," suguru empties himself out, pouring onto you a bucket of words that hold the truth. the ugly truth you've avoided.

literally fuck off. it means nothing now, you think, judging suguru's words.

"i've been horrible and nothing can change that. i will not beg for forgiveness, nor will i beg for your love. it's already been done. but please, my dear... let me say sorry," his voice quiets to the end and the caressing stops. his hand remains firm, waiting for you to come out of your fake shell. "i know you're not asleep. answer me, please."

caught red-handed.

"i don't care for your fucking apology. it's a bit too late," you spit your venom out, thanking the gods that your back is what's facing him. "matter of fact, i hope you die soon. do as you wish, though. your time is limited."

suguru doesn't answer yet. his arm around you tightens. his breathing's getting uneven — you can hear it. it's shaking, the same way your eyes are shaking to prevent any tears — or as you call it, the pity tears.

he takes in a deep breathe, verbally exhaling a shaky one in return, "then, i'll apologize. i'm sorry."

that's it, huh, you think, almost voicing out your thoughts.

"it means nothing to apologize for actions i could've prevented a long time ago. so, i'm sorry. sorry that i've wronged you to the point you plot my death," he finishes, not having any more to say.

you wriggle out of his grasp, turning to face him. it's dark yet you can see his sadness. isn't that just too bad? the bar of the love you still feel for suguru exists, yet its overpowered by the hatred you've accumulated for him. it stings that he's going like this, but you rather it be by your own arms instead of another's.

"i don't have anything to say," you quietly speak, looking at suguru in the eyes. "if it doesn't work, then i hope you recover in the worst way. if it works and you die, i'll kiss you a merciful death."

the conversation ends. what's left are two adults staring into each other's eyes. there's nothing but empty voids facing each other. voids they once filled, voids they once created. it's too late; too late for anything. suguru's a petty liar if he says he's not afraid. who isn't afraid of death? he doesn't want to die, but what's done cannot be undone. he cannot turn the clock anti-clockwise and fix his actions. you won't be switching lanes, and it's set what the outcome will be.

minute¹ — pronounced my·new·tuh. meaning: extremely small. two synonyms: tiny, little.

#+ rizsu: jujutsu kaisen. #so this was definitely a thought #3.8k wc | tw. attempts of murder #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto angst #geto suguru angst #jjk angst #geto suguru x you #geto x you #jjk x fem!reader #jujutsu kaisen angst

[animatedjen]

You're a Jedi. I know what you're capable of— and what you're not.

#i don't enjoy Cal's angst but i DO enjoy watching him show off #definitely meant to gif this after the Eyes Closed edit whoops #star wars jedi survivor #jedi survivor #jedi survivor spoilers #cal kestis #alt angle cutscene #star wars #aj fav

[iguessthisisanewobsession]

Bruce regrets sound proofing all his children’s rooms

There are some things parents don’t want to know or hear when it comes to their children and it seemed like a great idea at the time.

That being said, as he looked down at his tired youngest, bottle feeding a baby in a way that seems to be half muscle memory, with a look on his face that can only be encompassed by the sentence “oh shit.”

Bruce was suddenly wondering if he made the right call.

#dp x dc #writing prompt #danny fenton #dc x dp #damian al ghul #damian wayne #so your adoption tendencies are apparently genetic #and that definitely is an 8 month old child #hoo boy #listen Damian was born an assassin he can be discreet when need be #everyone wondering why the brat has suddenly mellowed out #it’s because he became a dad at the ripe age of 15 #it’s genetic #add a sim take away the angst #everyone was in the dark #there’s no stopping Damian he has already faked a civilian ID for his son and as far as the world will know #he made a mistake that shook the elites and is a single dad #the only person who knows #is Leslie and she has already given up trying to convince him otherwise #everyone: seriously where did you get this child????!???! #Damian: I see. when a female has a child without copulation it is a miracle and a basis of a new religion #Damian: but WHEN I do it-

[puppetmaster13u]

Got an Idea based off of our Reblogs of @radiance1 Danny Reincarnates as a Clone Prompt.

But. What if, it's in Flashpoint timeline. Now you might say, but wait, isn't that timeline destroyed? Actually there was a continuity where it didn't, and we got to see more of Batman Thomas Wayne. But that's not what I'm getting at Because more importantly? At least for this? Kal is stuck in a lab under Metropolis, treated as an experiment and specimen. Like literally known as Subject 1. He's been there since the ship crashed as a baby, never ended up with the Kents, has never seen the sun or anything. He's kept in a room with red sun lights and is visibly Not Healthy. So why not add in clones to this?

Now does Danny know why he reincarnated? No. He doesn't really remember. What he does know? Is that he's physically baby. And he thinks he might be sick?

He's not to sure what's happening at first, vision not the best while he adjusts to suddenly being aware and able to move. But he recognizes labs. He recognizes cold halls and is understandably upset.

He sees himself in the glass- a tiny toddler with black hair and inhumanely blue eyes wrapped in a blanket that feels scratchy against his skin. Then he's in a room- more akin to a box with a wall cot- too big for him- a desk, and toiletries. And then there's a face peering down at him, gaunt face of a teenager- maybe young adult- looking starved, the same inhumane blue eyes wide in near awe and perhaps a hint of panic as they let out a raspy chuff.

What the fuck kind of place is he at...?

#dcxdp #dpxdc #prompts #clone danny #flashpoint #de aged danny #match (dc) #kon el #this could be a very hurt/comfort story or a very angst/comfort one depending on shit #I will say Kal doesn't exactly act human & his english is very broken #If they can't create super soldiers the normal way then cloning their alien specimen could work #And look they even gave it the 3 successful ones for good behavior #Nothing could surely go wrong #Kal definitely makes a nest beneath the wall cot #But seriously if you've never seen Flashpoint Kal holy fuck the poor dude

[horribluh]

hilarious mpreg zosan thought, sanji has a kid that has green hair but its not zoros kid. he has in fact never disclosed who the other father was (choose ur own adventure dead beat dad edition) and his siblings already have amazing technicolour hair so its not outside the realm of possibility for his biological children to also have weird hair colours. but when the kid pops out with green hair everyone immediately connects the dots that hey, doesnt the strawhats first mate that sanji famously doesn't get along with also have green hair? is this why sanji never said who the other father was? hes a fucking dead beat! get his ass!

this misconception integrates into everyones mind bc it makes too much sense to not be true and everyone is suddenly deadset on "protecting sanjis honour" and making zoro "take responsibility"

sanji is screaming crying throwing up disgusted bc no!!! the shitty mosshead is not the father!!! stop saying that!!!! but since he still wont say who the actual father is, everyone is just like its ok sanji, you dont have to defend a deadbeat even if he is your crewmate and sanji has no choice but to kill himself and also zoro for daring to have green hair

when the strawhats show up for sanjis baby shower they also unanimously come to the misunderstanding that sanji and zoro totally boned. franky goes as far as to call the kid mini marimo. brook makes a hundred innuendos, chopper is upset at the implication of them having unsafe sex, and robin alludes to "knowing all along" in a very ambiguous way. usopp is the only one who refuses to connect the dots and he is sanjis favourite strawhat fr. jinbei pats sanji on the back and says he hopes they work through their differences for the sake of their kid. sanji is dying, youre killing him, you're killing your cook

even more shenanigans ensue when zoro shows up 3 whole days late to the baby shower and is gaslit into thinking hes the father by everyone in attendance despite being Pretty Sure that he and sanji never fucked. zeff gives a pretty good shovel talk and nami gives an even better one (debt increment is involved) while zeff nods approvingly behind her and then luffy slingshots in all parents should be married right? and doesnt wait for an answer

anyway, like 2 hours later zosan find themselves standing at a makeshift altar on the thousand sunny, saying their vows. sanji insists to the very end that zoro is not the father so they dont need to get married but alas luffy isnt giving him a choice in this (he wants to eat wedding cake)

to sanjis eternal despair, the kid grows up to really like swords

additional zosan thought, sanji does not help things by shouting "this is all your fault!" the moment he sees zoro. zoro is futher gaslit

#mine #zosan #one piece #love putting them in the funniest scenarios possible #the kid also cant be convinced that zoro isnt their actual father #i think zoro does his whole wandering swordsman thing and sanji has to endure lovelorn husband jokes #angst alternative: zoro is in fact the father but does not remember their one night stand bc he was black out drunk #and sanji refuses to be the only one that remembers their ~night of passion~ and decides to keep the father a secret #luffy forces them to get married anyway #op #this got kinda long oops #dont ask me why the baby shower lasts over 3 days i just think the strawhats party hard and party rock and theyd definitely go all out here #zoro in this is very much embodying this might as well happen