chaos company: Angstpril 2026

running from April 1, 2026 to April 30, 2026

[chaos-company]

Angstpril 2026

Hi everyone!

It’s that time of year again! We are excited to announce that we are hosting the event again this year!

All prompts, FAQs, and rules can be found in the graphics and below the cut! 

Prompts:

Mistake

Change

Splintered

At what cost?

Alone

Betrayal

Aimless

Tormented

Longing

Drowning

Traitor

“I didn’t ask for this.”

Pretending

Morally Grey

Internal Battle

Hell of Their Own Making

“Just go”

Burning

Impossible Choice

Conflict

Bravery

Voice Breaking

Shattered Reality

Something Rare

Exploited Weakness

Sinners and Saints

Vices

Confession

Rain

Bittersweet

Alt Prompts:

Broken Promises

Brokenhearted

One of those days

Too soft for all of it

Religion

Gone

Nightmares

Against Their Will

Not Enough

Flinch

Rules

All posted content must be your original content. The use of AI for creation of any kind is prohibited.

All tags must be utilized in order to be reblogged. NOTE: the mods are human beings, so not all works will automatically be reblogged, even if all tagging is correct.

Any art form is acceptable, including original writing, gif sets and fan art.

FAQs

“Do I have to create for all thirty days?”

- Not at all! Feel free to jump in whenever you’d like. This is a creation event, so create as much or as little as you want! However, if you want to be entered in the shout out post, you must participate in all 30 days.

“Can I post a creation after the day has already passed?”

- Yes! You’re welcome to post for a prompt day even after the date, just be sure to tag with which day and prompt you’ve created for! You will only be eligible for the shoutout post if you complete all 30 days within the month of April.

“What if I don’t understand/like a prompt?”

- We have a list of 10 alt prompts for you to choose from if you don’t like the main 30. Feel free to use our alternate prompts for any day, and if there’s any confusion send us an ask!

[chaos-company]

That's a wrap on Angstpril 2026!

Thank you so much to everyone who participated in all the angsty goodness! And we want to give a special shoutout to our completionists! If you completed the whole prompt month and you do not see yourself in the list, please send us an ask and we'll add you to the list!

Our completionists are: @snakegoat @j-intherain @autobot2001 

P.S. So sorry for the late post, but the mods who run this event are two busy worker bees, but we genuinely appreciate everyone who participates every year!

[j-intherain]

~✧Where the Light Falls Wrong✧~

Tags: #mutual awareness #unspoken tension

Wc: ~1.5k

He hadn’t realized how fast he was breathing until you said his name again.

“Jud… are you okay?”

The room shrank around him. Too small. Too warm. Too full of you. The air between you felt thicker than it should at 5 a.m.

He pushed himself up too quickly from the couch, the blanket shifting with him, and for a split second, panic flickered through his chest.

Shit.

He reached blindly for the nearest cushion and dragged it into his lap, pressing it there a little too firmly, like it could anchor him back into control. Back into himself.

“I’m fine,” he said, shame reaching his ears. Too fast. Too tight. And not true, because the truth was… he was anything but fine.

He could still taste the dream on the back of his tongue, like salt and skin and your voice breaking on his name. And now you were here. Real. Looking at him.

He swallowed. This was the problem. Not something abstract. Not something distant, but something immediate. Something standing one meter away from him in an oversized shirt that still belonged to him.

You didn't look convinced. Your gaze flicked down, just for a fraction of a second, to the way he was clutching that cushion, then back to his face. Something flickered in your eyes. Recognition? Curiosity? Heat? His throat worked. Would you have noticed? The way his body had betrayed him?

God help him.

“…What are you doing up?” he asked, his voice rougher than he intended. “It’s early. It’s not even light yet.”

You hesitated slightly.

“I thought I heard you,” you said softly. “Saying my name. Wanted to check you were fine.”

That hit him harder than it should have. His grip tightened briefly on the cushion.

“I-” he exhaled. “It was nothing. Just… a dream.”

A pause. Your gaze lingered on him a second longer than necessary.

“What are you doing on the couch?” you asked then softly.

“I- didn’t have anywhere else to-”

You looked toward the hallway. Toward the room. Understanding came slowly.

“Oh.” And then, barely above a whisper: “That’s why the pillow smelled like you…”

The words slipped out and fell between you like a match on dry grass. Unfiltered. Amost innocent, but Jud stilled. Something low and dangerous twisted in his stomach. You seemed to realize it a second too late.

“I- I didn’t mean- sorry.” You shook your head quickly, retreating from it, your cheeks burning red. “You shouldn’t have done that,” you added, grasping for something steadier. “I could have slept here. You didn’t have to give me your room.”

“No.” Immediate. Firm. You looked at him, a little surprised by the certainty. “I wouldn’t have let you sleep on the couch,” he added, quieter now.

Silence settled. You nodded faintly. But your gaze lingered, and Jud felt it, the way you were looking at him now, not like before. Not restrained. Not careful. And that only made everything worse, because he was already fighting something he wasn’t sure he could keep contained.

“Are you sure you are okay?” you asked again, softer this time.

He exhaled slowly, dragging a hand over his face.

“I didn’t sleep much.”

True. Just not the whole truth.

“Maybe I should go.”

The words landed quietly, but something in him reacted instantly.

“What? Why?”

“It’s very early,” you said, already pulling slightly away from the moment. “If I leave now, no one will see me. No one will talk.”

That shouldn’t have been the thing that mattered.

“I don’t want to cause problems for you,” you added. “I’ve already stayed longer than I should have.”

You moved away. Jud watched you as you gathered your clothes, holding them close.

“I can use the bathroom, right?” you asked.

He nodded. “Of course.”

You hesitated for a fraction of a second, then disappeared down the hallway. The sound of the door closing echoed louder than it should have.

Suddenly, he was alone again. Jud sank back into the couch, the cushion still pressed in his lap, his grip tightening unconsciously. This was bad. No, this was worse than bad.

It wasn’t just a moment of weakness. It was something clear. Defined. Unavoidable. He let out a slow breath, his head falling back against the couch. He could still feel it. The ghost of something that hadn’t even happened.

And that was the worst part. Because if even his mind, his thoughts, were no longer safe from it… then what chance did he have in reality?

The bathroom door opened softly after some minutes. He sat up again, forcing his expression back into something neutral. Controlled. But it felt fragile now, like it could break at any moment.

And maybe, that was the truth he didn’t want to face: that it already had.

You stepped into the small living room, dressed again. Back in your clothes. Back in the version of yourself that belonged somewhere else.

And yet, something had changed. He could still see it. In the way you paused when your eyes met his. In the way neither of you spoke right away.

“Well… it's time to go. Thank you again,” you said finally, your voice quiet but steadier now. “For… letting me stay.”

Jud nodded once.

“You said you didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

It sounded simple, too simple for what it had been. You hesitated, your fingers tightening slightly around the edge of your top.

“I’m sorry,” you added. “For last night. For showing up like that. I didn’t mean to-”

“You don’t have to apologize for that, I already told you. It's fine,” he cut in gently. A pause. “You were not the problem.”

The words settled between you, but they didn’t seem to land the way they should have. Your gaze dropped briefly.

“Maybe not,” you said softly. “But I still feel like I made things… complicated.”

Jud let out a quiet breath. You have no idea. The thought stayed unspoken, because he couldn’t say it. Not without saying everything.

Silence stretched again. Not empty, but full. Too full.

“I should go,” you said after a moment.

There it was again. Final this time. Jud stood, slowly.

“Are you sure?”

You gave a small, tired smile.

“No,” you admitted, honestly. “But I don’t think that changes anything.”

It didn’t, you were right. That was the problem.

He stepped a little closer. Not enough to touch, but enough to feel it again. That pull.

“You don’t have to go back right now,” he said quietly. “You could stay. Just… a little longer.”

The offer slipped out before he could stop it. Before he could think about what it meant. Your breath caught slightly, and for a moment, just a moment, it looked like you might say yes.

But then something shifted in your expression. Something heavier.

“I can’t,” you said. Soft, but firm. “Because if I stay…” you trailed off, shaking your head faintly. “It won’t just be staying, will it?”

The words landed like truth. Unavoidable. Jud didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. You both knew.

“I’ll be fine,” you added, quieter now. “I’ll figure it out.”

He didn’t believe you. Not for a second.

“Let me walk you. To make sure everything’s okay” he said.

You shook your head immediately.

“No. You’ve done enough already.”

Too much. The words hovered between you, even if you didn’t say them.

“Okay.. Take care of yourself,” he said finally. “You know you can come back whenever you need.”

It felt insufficient, but it was all he could offer. You nodded.

“You too.”

A beat. Then you turned and walked to the door. Jud didn’t move. Didn’t follow. Didn’t try to stop you.

Because if he did, he wasn’t sure he would ever let you go.

The door opened, then closed. And just like that, you were gone. The silence that followed felt different. Heavier. Colder. Jud stood there for a long moment, staring at the door like something might undo itself and you would come back if he waited long enough.

It didn’t. You didn't.

Jud stayed standing in the middle of the living room like a man who had just watched something sacred walk away. He pressed the heel of his hand against his sternum, as if that could push the ache back down where it belonged. It didn’t. Slowly, he exhaled. Then sank back onto the couch and dragged his hands over his face.

This was the part no one talked about. Not temptation. Not desire. But what came after.

The conflict.

Because it wasn’t just about resisting something. It was about knowing exactly what you were resisting. And still wanting it anyway.

His gaze drifted toward the hallway. Toward the room. His room. Where you had been. Where he had dreamt…

He stopped the thought. Too late. Because it was already there. Clear. Defined. He could still feel it.

The pull.

The want.

The possibility.

And worse, he could see it. What would happen if he, if you both, gave in. What it would cost. Not just him, but everything.

His jaw tightened. He had chosen this. Chosen this life, chosen God, knowing exactly what it required. The rules. The boundaries. And yet, all it had taken to shake his convictions was you. Not even deliberately, not even trying. Just existing in the same space as him. Looking at him the way you had. Saying his name like that.

For the first time, it didn’t feel like a clear path. It felt like standing between two things he could not hold at the same time. And knowing, that whichever one he chose, he would lose the other.

Thanks for reading~ 💜

Taglist: @quietly-kept @sidelit

Masterlist

[genshinxmuses]

Conflict (Angstpril)

For Angstpril hosted by @chaos-company Fandom: Genshin Impact Word Count: 275 Day 20 Prompt: Conflict

It wasn't always easy having to be the bad guy, Tartaglia knew this. The Fatui were by no means saviors, the word Harbinger simply meant messenger. But messengers could mean bad news too, and often that's what he had to bring. Debt collection, weapons deals, the underground wasn't always a kind and cheerful place to be. In fact, it was often comparable to hell itself.

While he genuinely loved his job, he had to admit it wasn't as glorious as people always seemed to think. It was always a conflicting internal battle when orders came in because he knew that what they were doing was wrong, but had convinced himself it was all for the greater good so it had to be okay to kill, right? All was to be done in the name of her Majesty the Tsarista, so anything she asked of him would be done.

Would he follow through regardless of what she asked of him? Absolutely. Would he like it? Not always. But he knew deep down it was necessary, even if it tore him up inside and even if he couldn't face himself ever again, he knew it had to be done. So that made it okay, right? No. And it never would.

It wasn't easy being the bad guy, but someone had to do it, but that didn't make it easy either it only made it necessary. Conflict doesn't always have to be violent, sometimes it's merely an argument in your head, or a conflict of ideals and morals vs what you have to do. Did he really want to be the bad guy? No, but someone had to.

[bespectacled-bookwyrm]

Angstpril 2026 - 22

https://archiveofourown.org/works/83595676

Summary: He wasn't afraid.

[autobot2001]

Price's Burden

Genre: Fanfiction Fandom: Call of Duty: Modern Warfare Rating: T Warning: None Pairing: None Description: Kate Laswell knows something is troubling Price. Continued from 20

Day 21.2: @whumpril: pained smile  @chaos-company's angstpril: broken promises

Ao3 or under the cut.

Gaz and Soap struggle to get Jamie to calm down. They hate how terrified she gets when she sees Ghost or Price. They both sigh, relieved once she’s asleep. The two sit back on the chairs by the bed, feeling like Ghost and Price broke their promise. While they admit the men didn’t explicitly say “we promise,” their actions of agreeing to stay away from Jamie and then visiting her anyway are equivalent to breaking a promise. They know Ghost and Price want to repair their friendship with Jamie, but this is a delicate situation that needs to be taken slowly.

Price has a meeting with Kate Laswell today. He didn’t tell her about the situation. This meeting was scheduled before the incident, but often Kate leaves afterwards, meaning she wouldn’t need to know. Price walks into his office, seeing Kate seated before the desk. “You’re early,” he says with a pained smile. “Something’s troubling you.” “The longer we take to stop Makarov —” “How long have we known each other, John? I can tell when you’re faking. Something other than Makarov is troubling you.” Price sighs, knowing he won’t be able to change the subject. Kate just changed the subject of the meeting. He will have to inform her about the incident. “What happened?” Kate asks, worried, before Price can say anything. Kate can’t believe what she’s hearing.

[autobot2001]

Behind Closed Doors

Genre: Fanfiction Fandom: Call of Duty: Modern Warfare Rating: T Warning: None Pairing: None Description: Price forgets he's not alone in his office after hearing news about Jamie. Continued from 21.2

Day 22; @aprilisthecruelestmonth: silent tears @whumpril: recovery setback @chaos-company's angstprl: voice breaking

Ao3 or under the cut

The medics thought they could release Jamie from the medbay. As two nurses enter Jamie’s room, they notice a concerning change in her condition. The monitor adds to their concerns, showing a rapid heart and respiratory rate.

Price sits at his desk, listening to Gaz and Soap tell him about the setback. “They don’t believe the sepsis will get worse enough to be stage two,” Soap assures him. “But we can’t visit her for the next couple of days.” Price doesn’t know what to say. Gaz and Soap stand, moving towards the door. Thining Gaz and Soap left, he lets the tears loose. The two watch his shoulders as they. Gaz and Soap nod, agreeing to leave Price alone for now. Gaz and Soapleave the room. Price doesn’t hear the door close.

“I’m worried about him,” Gaz says as the two walk down the hall. “And Ghost.” “They both feel so much guilt. I think nothing can help until they can talk to Jamie without upsetting her.” “Which will take a while to happen. I’m not sure if we should wait or deal with her crying while either visits.” “We’ll figure it out after her infection and sepsis heals.” Ghost walks by the two. Gaz and Soap know he’s going to Price’s office, but don’t stop him.

Ghost opens the door, worried as he hears Price crying. He approaches the desk and waits for Price to acknowledge him. He waits a couple of minutes before speaking. “Price, what’s going on?” Ghost worries as he listens to Price. Both about Jamie’s health and Price as the Captain’s voice cracks as he cries again mid sentence. Ghost isn’t sure what to do. He knows nothing will help now.

[genshinxmuses]

Voice Breaking (Angstpril)

For Angstpril hosted by @chaos-company Fandom: Genshin Impact Word Count: 535 Day 22 Prompt: Voice Breaking

She never thought it would come to this. People warned her but Lumine didn't want to believe it. She looked him right in the eyes, searching for any sort of sign that it wasn't true, that he really hadn't lied to her. There was nothing, just a cold emptiness, was he really just a killer obsessed with violence?

She didn't want to believe that. She didn't want to think the man she loved could be so cold and cruel. The evidence was right in front of her though. Denial weighed hard on her heart, she didn't want to listen to the truth. She could tell herself he wasn't like that, but that didn't change what was right before her eyes. There he stood, blood covering his hands.

If she wasn't as strong as she was, the pain in her chest would have killed her. This wasn't him. This wasn't the same man she fell in love with. There was no way she'd believe it. This couldn't have been the man she remembered, yet there Childe stood, blood on his hands, red stains providing evidence that she hoped she'd never have to face.

The only hope she had right now was that it wasn't done in malice, that it was merely out of survival instinct, she knew the world was kill or be killed, she just didn't want to think he'd have to go that far. But that was the reality they lived in, it was a kill or be killed world, so could she really blame him? Could she hold this against him and blame him for merely trying to protect himself? She knew loving a Harbinger wasn't easy, it never would be, but she told herself to do it anyway.

It was her duty, wasn't it? This was her job as his girlfriend, this was normal. She was supposed to be there for him no matter what. Even if the blood he came home covered in wasn't his own, she was to be strong, to be the good girlfriend and turn a blind eye.

"ch-Childe…" Her voice cracked, tears building up. She wanted an answer, but feared what it would be. The blood on his clothes should have told her enough, but she didn't want to believe it. She swallowed hard, gasping, choking for air as she fought the tears back and felt every muscle in her body ache as she tried so hard to fight the evidence right before her eyes. "What happened?" She wouldn't believe it, unless she heard it straight from him. Her throat hurt, she couldn't do this anymore.

She told herself there was no way the man before her was merely a murderer, there had to be a reason for this, right? There had to be a reason he came back so beat up, a reason better than just that he got into another fight to test himself, because he was bored. There had to be a reason she was on the verge of tears again and couldn't even speak right now, right?

Lumine never wanted to believe the man she loved could be a killer, but what you want to believe and reality are often completely different things.

[snakegoat]

Angstpril Day 22: Voice Breaking

DOOMED YURI!!

"I can't be with you, Connie. I-" Marion's voice broke as she looked away, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes.

Connie felt her heart sink as she took Marion's hands but the crying girl snatched them away, crossing her arms against her chest.

"…I'm sorry, but… But my parents found out. This is the last time I'll be seeing you."

Tears started to slide down Marion's face and Connie thought she was going to cry herself at the news. She always knew Marion's parents were homophobic, but she never thought they would find out.

There goes her plans of eloping with Marion and never telling the latter's family. Now they can't even see each other!

Connie wrapped her arms tight around Marion, not giving the girl a chance to escape even when she tensed and tried to pull away. "Please, just let me hold you one last time."

Marion soon relaxed in Connie's grip and let her tears fall freely, sobbing into the taller girl's shoulder.

Connie's grip loosened and she switched so one arm was around Marion's back and one cradled her head. Tears started to roll down Connie's cheeks too as she held the shorter girl.

There they stood, crying into each other's arms as it felt like the world came crumbling down.

[pandora15]

New Fic: A Relentless Cycle

New Angstpril fic for Ted Lasso dropped! This was written for Day 8: Tormented

Here's a snippet:

When Beard yanks the door open, Ted nearly spills out from where he’s curled up against the cabinets, letting out a strangled gasp of surprise. Beard immediately sees the sweat coating his face, the unsteady breaths escaping him too quickly, and the violent shaking of his hands as he clenches and unclenches them in tense, sporadic motions. “Ted?” Shit. Ted’s eyes — wild, so unlike him that it catches Beard off-guard — widen. “Beard, I can’t — I…” His chest heaves slightly, one of his hands clawing at his jacket. In a split-second, Beard is kneeling down at eye-level. “You’re okay,” he says, softly. “You just gotta breathe, right?” Ted shakes his head, breaths escaping faster. “No, this isn’t — it’s not this, I don’t, I can’t —”

Read the rest of the fic here: A Relentless Cycle

[autobot2001]

The Price of Oversight

Genre: Fanfiction Fandom: Call of Duty: Modern Warfare Rating: G Warning: None Pairing: None Description: Price continues to struggle. Continued from day 13.

Day 15.2; @chaos-company's angstpril: Internal Battle

Ao3

Price sits on his bed, struggling to stop feeling guilty about the situation. He knows Ghost is right. He needs to stop blaming himself and focus on helping Jamie recover. He knows he and Ghost need to repair their friendship with Jamie. His thoughts turn to how he let a spy trick him and Ghost. That  Gaz and Soap were right. He and Ghost should have known that Jamie wasn't the spy. Now Jamie is sidelined for at least three months, and he knows she distrusts him and Ghost. Price knows mending trust is difficult, and sometimes impossible. He knows he should be prepared for Jamie to tell him she wants to leave the team once her injuries are healed. Price gets into bed, aiming to sleep, but he sees Jamie lying on the floor, unconscious and seriously injured, when he closes his eyes. To Price, he thinks he deserves this. Knowing how traumatized Jamie is. Price should be grateful that Gaz, Soap, and the others in Task Force 141, along with their friends, aren't livid at him and Ghost, but it's little reassurance knowing Jamie is terrified of the two. Price stares at the ceiling, hoping tomorrow's meeting doesn't turn into an argument.

[j-intherain]

~✧Where the Light Falls Wrong✧~

Tags: soft angst, fluff, cute!Jud, mutual attraction, almost crossing lines but not yet

Wc: ~1.9k

You hadn’t meant to bake. It just happened. Your hands moved before your mind caught up, reaching for ingredients you hadn’t touched in months. Measuring, mixing, following something familiar, something that didn’t require you to think too much about anything else. It was instinct. Something your body remembered, even if the rest of your life felt like something you were still trying to learn how to inhabit.

You used to do this all the time. For coworkers. For friends. For people who would laugh, take seconds without asking, lean against your kitchen counter and stay longer than they planned.

You used to have people.

It wasn’t until you were halfway through that it settled in. This time, there was no one to give the cookies to.

You stood there for a moment, hands resting against the counter, the soft hum of the oven filling the silence, and let that realization sit. Sharp. Sudden.

David hadn’t mentioned it. Your birthday. Not once. Not in the morning. Not at lunch. Not even before he left to meet his friends. You told yourself it didn’t matter. Tried to convince yourself that it was just another day. That you were too old to care about birthdays in that way. That you were being… unreasonable.

But yet, you felt the sadness creeping in again, uninvited, relentless, settling into you like a tide you couldn’t quite outrun. And still, you finished them. Carefully. Letting them cool. Packing them afterwards into a small container as if they were meant for someone.

You didn’t decide it consciously. But when you stepped outside later that afternoon, the container in your hands, your feet already knew where they were taking you.

The church was quiet. Open. The same as always. You stepped inside.Your eyes adjusted slowly… but he wasn’t there. You hesitated and, for a moment, you considered leaving. Then you heard it. Music. Faint. Muffled. Not the kind that belonged there. You followed it. Slowly, curiosity pulling you forward. It led you down the hall, toward the parish office. The door was slightly open, and before you could stop yourself you looked inside.

He was alone. Music playing from somewhere unseen. And Jud… he was moving. Not restrained. Not measured, but unaware. Free. His head dipped slightly with the rhythm, fingers moving along an invisible electric guitar, his whole body loose in a way you had never seen before.

For a second you just watched, something warm and soft unfolding in your chest. Unexpected and dangerous in how easy it felt. You bit your lip, trying not to smile, but failing miserably. God, he was so endearing.

You leaned just a little closer, trying to have a better sight… and the door gave. You stumbled forward, mumbling a curse. Jud turned, stopping the music. Silence settled. And for a moment you didn’t know who looked more caught.

“I- I’m sorry,” you said quickly, heat rushing to your face. “I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay,” he said, a little breathless and too quickly, almost at the same time. “I didn’t think I had an audience…”

A flicker of something almost embarrassed crossed his face as he brought his left hand to the nape of his neck.

“It was a good show..." you said without measuring your words before you realized. "Ehm, I brought these,” you held out the container like it might ground you both. “Cookies.”

“For…?

You hesitated.

“It’s- it's my birthday.”

Something in his expression shifted. Softened.

“Oh, Happy birthday,” he said. And it felt meant.

“They’re probably not very good,” you added quickly. “You don’t have to eat them, I just- I used to make them for people and I don’t really have anyone here to-” You stopped. Too late. “And David, my husband, won’t touch them,” you added, with a faint, almost self-conscious smile. “He says they’re basically a direct shortcut to a heart attack.”

Jud’s gaze flickered briefly at that. Something unreadable. Then he reached into the container and took one anyway.

“You really don’t have to-” you started.

He took a bite, humming while he chewed it. You watched him, closer than you meant to. And when he swallowed:

“They’re so good.”

You huffed softly. “You don’t have to say that just to make me feel better.”

“I’m not.” A small pause. Then, he added quieter: “They’re the best cookies I’ve had in a long time indeed.”

That did something. Small. But real.

Your gaze drifted shyly to the desk, and then you saw the paper resting there, its surface etched with delicate, unfinished lines, as if made mid-thought. The sketch of a winged insect.

“Did you draw that?”

He followed your gaze. A faint shrug.

“It’s not much.”

You stepped closer.

“Oh c’mon, of course it is. It’s… really good.”

Your fingers traced the lines. The detail. The care.

“What is it?”

“A firefly.”

You glanced at him.

“A firefly?”

A small smile.

“They’re overlooked,” he said. “People always choose butterflies when they talk about change. It makes sense. Transformation you can see. Something obvious. Beautiful in a way that’s easy to understand.” A pause. “But fireflies…”

He glanced back at the drawing.

“They change too. Quietly. You don’t see it happen. There’s no moment you can point to and say there, that’s when it became something else.”

You didn’t speak, didn't interrupt him. His gaze flickered briefly to you.

“They spend most of their lives hidden,” he continued. “Buried. Waiting. Becoming something else in the dark.”

Something in your chest tightened.

“And when they finally emerge,” he added softly, “they don’t just exist.” A small pause. “They make their own light. They don’t wait for the world to give it to them. They don’t reflect it. They create it.”

Silence.

“It sounds silly,” he added, almost under his breath.

“No,” you said, just as quietly. “It doesn’t. It sounds… like hope.”

Your eyes met. And for a moment, something subtle shifted between you. You looked away first.

“I’ve never seen them,” you whispered.

He blinked.

“Fireflies?”

You nodded. He looked toward the window. The light outside already fading.

“Sometimes you can see them in the woods behind the church. We could-” He stopped. A flicker of realization or maybe restraint. “Maybe you and your husband could-”

“I’d really love to go with you.”

The words came out before you could stop them. Softer and more honest than you expected, but steady.

He looked at you. A beat passed before he spoke again.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

“What? Now?”

“Yeah… if you want.” 

You just nodded and stepped out into the hallway together. Once outside the parish office, Jud paused.

“Wait a second,” he said. “I forgot something.”

He disappeared briefly back into the office. You stood still, your heart beating just a little faster than it should. When he returned, there was something slightly different in his expression. Subtle, but there. You didn’t question it. 

“Come on.”

_____________________________________

The air outside had changed. Cooler. Quieter.

You walked side by side. Close enough to feel it. Not close enough to touch.

“It’s beautiful,” you said.

“It is,” he replied. “Different during the day.”

Silence settled between you, not uncomfortable. Just aware of the fact that you were completely alone. Together. For the first time, outside the quiet structure of the church.

“And Eve?” Jud asked after a moment, his voice gentle, as if offering something to hold onto rather than filling the silence.

You smiled faintly. “She’s still alive, which honestly feels like a miracle. I think she’s doing better than I am, indeed.”

The words slipped out. Again. He didn’t answer immediately, but he didn’t look away either.

“I told you she would be.”

“You sound very confident for someone who’s never seen me take care of anything.”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

You looked at him. “What do you mean?”

A small pause, he hesitated.

“I think…” he started, then stopped himself. You waited. “I think you care of everything more than you let yourself admit.”

That landed deeper than it should have. You looked away.

“That hasn’t exactly worked out well for me so far.”

“Sometimes it doesn’t,” he said quietly. You glanced back at him. “But that doesn’t make it a mistake.”

Something in your chest tightened.

“You say that like you believe it.”

“I do.”

The way he said it, with no hesitation, made your chest tighten a little more. 

“You’re very certain for someone who spends his time talking about faith,” you said softly.

A faint smile.

“Yeah, faith isn’t certainty.”

“Then what is it?”

He looked at you, intently.

“Choosing to believe,” he said quietly. “Even when it would be easier not to.”

Silence. Too much silence.

“Listen-” he started.

Then, they appeared slowly. Small lights. Flickering between the trees, drifting in a slow, silent dance.

You stepped forward without thinking, astonished.

“Oh my god, look at them! They’re real,” you whispered. “So beautiful.”

“Yes… beautiful…”

When you turned, Jud was already looking at you. Not at the lights. At you. And something in his expression softened when your eyes met. You held his gaze. A second too long. You were closer than before. Not by much, but enough. Your breath slowed. There was something in the air now. Something fragile on the verge of becoming something else.

His gaze dropped, briefly, to your mouth. Your heart stuttered. You didn’t move. Neither did he. And for a moment, it felt like everything was narrowing down to that single point between you. The distance between you suddenly too noticeable. Too small.

And then, you felt it. The pull. Warm. Immediate. And right alongside it, the resistance. Sharp. Unforgiving. An internal battle. Loud and unavoidable.

There was a moment where it felt like something might happen. And the worst thing if that deep inside you wanted for it to happen.

You shouldn’t. But you wanted to. Really wanted to.

However, the reason won and you stepped back, and just like that, the moment broke. Not completely, but enough.

“I-I should go back. It's getting late.”

Jud nodded, though something in his expression lingered.

“Yeah… yeah, of course, I should walk you back.”

_____________________________________

He didn’t stop at the church. He walked you all the way home. The house was still dark when you arrived.

“Thank you,” you said. “For today. You saved my birthday.”

“It’s nothing,” he said lightly. “I got free cookies out of it, after all.”

You let out a small laugh. “That's true.”

Silence fell between you.

“Well…”

“Well…”

The word lingered, unfinished, like neither of you quite knew how to end the moment.

“See you, Father.”

“Jud. You can call me... just Jud.”

You hesitated, just a fraction.

“See you… Jud.”

He nodded. You both started to move in opposite directions.

“Wait.”

You turned almost by instinct. Jud closed the distance between you again, reaching into his pocket before handing you a folded piece of paper.

“Happy birthday.” And then he left.

You opened it slowly. It was the sketch. The firefly. And beneath it, a small note in delicate handwriting:

Stay bright.

Don’t let anything dim your light.

You stood there, holding it against your chest, watching him walk away. Something inside you feeling, for the first time since you arrived, like it might still be capable of light.

Thanks for reading~ 💜

Taglist: @quietly-kept @sidelit

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[genshinxmuses]

Internal Battle (Angstpril)

For Angstpril hosted by @chaos-company Fandom: Genshin Impact Word Count: 305 Day 15 Prompt: Internal Battle

His hands were shaking as Ifa gripped his gun. He never wanted to do this. As a veterinarian he was supposed to save lives, it was his job to take care of any saurian that needed treatment. But was killing a bad thing if the poor creature didn't have much time left and would just suffer the illness for longer and longer until it ultimately died naturally?

Was he really doing the right thing? Was this animal suffering that badly or was there still some way to cure it? Ifa didn't want to ever have to hurt an animal, but it was necessary. A mercy kill, however is still a kill. Euthanizing was more humane when an animal was nearing the end of its life.

But out in the wild, there was no other option than to put them down as quickly as possible, and hope it wasn't painful. He was the doctor, he was supposed to save them, he was supposed to give them hope, to give them a better life and care for them. Was it justified to take one of their lives if it meant an end to all their suffering?

It hurt, he pulled the trigger.

A single bullet, as quick and painless as possible was all it took, and deep down, Ifa wished he'd turned the bullet on himself. This was the part where he had to detach and look at everything from a scientific perspective. He wasn't a murderer, just a doctor putting an end to a patient's suffering. Whatever helped him to sleep at night, right? Sleep was funny, as if he got any. He could still hear the gunfire and the screeching.

Murder shouldn't be a cure for a disease, but sometimes, sadly certain ailments have no known treatment options and death is the more humane option.

[bespectacled-bookwyrm]

Angstpril 2026 - 15

https://archiveofourown.org/works/83190316

Summary: He was usually such a timid thing.

[nyamadermont]

Pretending

Angstpril 2026 #13: Pretending

@chaos-company

Lin knew Kya meant well.

After Korra melted away from Katara’s final pronouncement, Kya had taken Lin by the elbow and led her away from all the pitying looks. They had stayed quiet for the rest of the day, neither having the first idea how to navigate this circumstance.

She didn’t ask questions she knew Lin didn’t want to answer. She had brought food from the White Lotus kitchens, so she was able to have some Gaoling Beef instead of the bland tofu soup being served to Tenzin and his family. Even the tea eggs actually had good flavor.

She was grateful, and yet.

Lin wasn’t oblivious to the sidelong glances. The pauses just before Kya encroached on her thoughts. The harsh wispers at the door, keeping people away.

It was deep in the night when they returned, full of Korra’s breakthrough experience.

But when everyone returned to the temple, she couldn’t find Kya anywhere.

No note.

No message.

She threw her things in her bag and sat on Oogi for an hour waiting on everyone else to get organized.

That way, Kya could stop pretending to care.

.

Kya knew Lin meant well.

She hovered by Kya’s bedside, reading something. She always had a book or a paper or a report in her hand.

Any time she moved, she could feel Lin’s eyes on her. It was odd, how judged she felt.

If this is what being a patient was like, she wanted none of it.

Even if Lin kept her water jug full. Even if Lin had hot tea ready at any hour. Even if Lin brought her foods her healer would have a fit over. Even if she went to get Pema instead of her brothers.

She was grateful, and yet.

Lin just wouldn’t leave her alone longer than it took to get to the bathroom and back. She couldn’t leave Kya’s blankets alone, constantly tucking them in around her feet. When Kya asked for something to read, she took the healer’s side and offered to read something out loud instead.

With a sigh, Kya had just shaken her head silently, and turned to the window.

When the healer woke her for night-time vitals, Lin’s chair was empty. The nurse said something about a police officer pulling her away too urgently for her to leave a note.

Kya waited for the staff to leave before using the last water in the jug to heal herself just a little more.

She froze her foot in a boot of ice, walked to the bay, waterbent herself to the Island and slowly worked her way up to the family quarters.

That way, Lin could stop pretending to care.

[bespectacled-bookwyrm]

Angstpril 2026 - 16

https://archiveofourown.org/works/83248621

Summary: He'd been withdrawn all day.

[j-intherain]

~✧Where the Light Falls Wrong✧~

Tags: Jud's pov, religious guilt, longing, forbidden feelings

Wc: 880

He should have gone straight back to the rectory. That would have been the smart thing to do. Return to his room. Close the door. Let the night settle the way it always did. Quiet. Ordered. Contained.

Instead, Jud found himself walking slower than necessary. Not quite ready to let the moment end.

The path back felt different. Or maybe it was just him.

He told himself, at first, that it was nothing. Concern. That was the word he had used. Concern for a parishioner. For someone clearly struggling. Someone who needed… something steady. Something safe. That was all.

It had been enough, at least in the beginning.

The first time he saw you, standing in front of the statue, too still, too distant for someone physically present, he had noticed. The way you had looked at it. Not with reverence, not quite, but with something closer to recognition. Like you understood the weight of that suspended moment.

He told himself that of course he had noticed. That was part of who he was. What he had chosen to be. To notice. To listen. To offer guidance. But somewhere along the way, that explanation had begun to feel… insufficient.

Jud exhaled slowly, his gaze drifting ahead but not quite seeing the path in front of him. Because he knew it wasn’t just concern anymore. It hadn’t been, not entirely, for a while.

He had thought of you. More than once. More than he should have. Not in any way he could easily justify. Not in a way that fit neatly into the role he was meant to occupy. The way he found himself wondering if you would come back. Not expecting it, but hoping.

That had been the first mistake.

The girl with the sad eyes.

That was how it had started, but that wasn’t what stayed. His mind did not return to you as it did to others. Not in passing. Not briefly, but in detail. Like the way you listened, or the way you held yourself, like something in you was always just slightly braced. Contained. Or the way you chose your words carefully, even when you didn’t know you were doing it.

But tonight…

He stopped walking just for a second. Tonight had been different. Because for the first time, he had seen it.

Not the sadness, not the restraint, but the light.

It had caught him off guard. The way your expression had shifted when you saw them, the fireflies flickering through the trees. Something in you had lit up. Bright. Unfiltered. Alive in a way he hadn’t seen before. That was the part he couldn’t let go of, because it hadn’t been the reflection of anything external, not the flicker of light around you. It had come from you. A glimpse of something that he knew had been there all along. Buried. Held back. And for a moment, just a moment, he had found himself thinking something he shouldn’t have allowed. That he would give more than he should to see that light again. 

His jaw tightened slightly. That was where the line had blurred. Not when you came back. Not when you stayed. But there. In the quiet space between you, when the distance had nearly disappeared. When the air had shifted. When he had-

Jud closed his eyes briefly.

Wanted.

The word settled heavier than he expected.

He had wanted to kiss you. 

The admission came without permission. Clear. Unavoidable. And that, that was where it stopped being something he could excuse.

He resumed walking, faster now. The church came into view, familiar, grounded, immovable in a way he suddenly needed. So, instead of heading towards the rectory, he stepped inside without hesitation. The silence met him immediately. Cool. Steady. Unchanged, unlike him. Grounding in a way nothing else had been that night.

He moved toward the altar slowly. Not out of habit, but of need. For a moment, he simply stood there. Not speaking, not yet. His hands folded loosely in front of him. His gaze fixed somewhere beyond the visible.

Then, slowly, he lowered his head.

“Lord…”

The word left him quieter than he intended. He closed his eyes.

“I ask for clarity…” A pause. “Where I am choosing not to see clearly.”

His fingers clenched, his hands still in praying pose.

“For restraint…” Another breath. “Where I feel myself beginning to falter.”

The silence pressed gently around him.

“And for the strength to remain where I am meant to stand.”

The words settled. He remained there for a moment longer, letting the stillness return, letting the structure of it all - of faith, of duty, of everything he had chosen - reassert itself.

It should have been enough. It had always been enough. And yet, as he lifted his head, the quiet did not feel entirely restored. Something remained. Not loud, not overwhelming, but present. Persistent.

And unmistakably his.

Jud exhaled slowly. This was not something that had happened to him, it was something he had stepped into, and knowingly or not, he was already part of it.

And that was what made it dangerous, because there was no one else to blame. No external force to resist. Only choice. And the quiet, undeniable awareness, that this was a hell of his own making.

Thanks for reading~ 💜

Taglist: @quietly-kept @sidelit

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