#angstttttttt

[twilightshadow]

“For all the fans whose heart was thrashed and stamped upon when Satoru died, This one is for you,”

“Fix it, please,” 

“Fix what?” 

“Me,” 

*** 

Satoru Gojo. 

The strongest. The invincible. The man that died fighting the king of curses. 

The world mourned him as a weapon more than a man, built him into a legend before burying him. 

But,

he still lives. 

Somewhere far away from the jujutsu society, in a place devoid of curses, hidden among trees and peace. He breathes. 

The world has a chance to reclaim its shield once more. 

He has seven weeks to heal his body and the fragments of his soul and she is the only one who could help him. 

His first heartbreak. His last memory of peace. 

The girl he once loved. 

The woman he now despised. 

Asahi Kiyako. 

The runaway. The forgotten one.

The girl who left the jujutsu world years ago– vanishing without a trace, leaving behind the boy she loved and the life she could not bear to face, without a goodbye. 

Eight years and yet, in a mockery of fate, she still felt the threads of her soul snapping when he lingered between life and death. 

She is the only one who can heal what is broken inside him. 

 The boy she loved. 

The man who seemed to hate her. 

Seven weeks — that’s all they have. Seven weeks for his body to heal, for her heart to break all over again, and for fate to decide if love can survive the things it ruins. Read here :) -> https://www.wattpad.com/story/403638910

[evilvirusboysky]

"Pathetic."

That's the first thing Wesker says when Sky finally wakes up, hooked up to all manner of machinery and monitors.

"You insisted you were capable. That I could trust you. I put you in charge of that lab for less than a week and you single-handedly destroyed everything," Wesker seethes. "You might as well have handed everything to the B.S.A.A. on a silver platter. You're lucky I didn't have you torched."

Wesker's coat whips about as he paces, scowling the entire time, fury hanging around him like a thick cloud.

"If it wouldn't be a greater waste of my time, I would have replaced you," he snaps. "I expected perfection. You failed to deliver mediocrity. Pathetic." @albert-wesker7

(AGHHHHHH MY HEART CAN'T HANDLE THIS SKY MY POOR BABY BOY :(((

"Wh... what's..." Sky tried to sit up, but quickly noticed the machines, and figured it would be easier to stay down. "...dad...?"

His father's words hit him hard. "I... destroyed...? What did I do?"

It wasn't coming back to him yet. His head was killing him. He watched Wesker go back and forth.

"Replace me...?" His stomach dropped. He hated even repeating those words. He hoped he'd imagined them.

He couldn't even bring himself to respond to being called pathetic. He was still too out of it to cry, luckily, but he couldn't help how his hand twitched towards his father's.

[trashogram]

Ohhhhh Soulmate AU with Lucifer where you’re born with charred-looking arms and legs because you share injuries/scars with the one you’re destined to be with 🥺

[officiallyossy-haywooddent]

OOC.

Sleep time, babes.

If any of ya’ll see me being active on here in the next 7 hours please tell me to go back 2 sleep.

Also ya’ll are actually amazing at this angst stuff—

:] g’night

[theycallme-thejackal]

One MidgeLenny x TSwift Fic Per Day

92. Better Man

Sometimes in the middle of the night, she can feel him.

And then she wakes up and he’s not there. And she misses him terribly. She misses him so much that there’s a dull ache in her chest all the time.

But she had to end it because she couldn’t handle him constantly pushing her away. He just couldn’t accept the love she gave him - never believed he deserved it - and after a while, it became too painful to have the man she loved throwing that love back in her face.

The worst part is that she knows he loves her too.

He just can’t get out of his own head for long enough to let himself be happy.

She gets dressed, does her hair and makeup, gets the kids off to school, and immediately heads for the courthouse. She sits in the back, watching as witness after witness gets up and tells the court about the brilliance of Lenny Bruce.

And then her name is called.

She takes a deep breath and stands, moving toward the seat just vacated by Dorothy Kilgallen. Once she is sworn in, she sits, and before she looks at Kessler, she makes eye contact with Lenny.

He looks tired. Sad. Defeated.

She’s rehearsed her answers with Kessler already. Knows the questions he’s going to ask and the answers she’s going to give. Mostly regarding comedy as a concept and a career, a couple about her friendship with Lenny. He’s even prepared her for the barrage of questions the prosecution asks. About how she met Lenny. How they became friends.

About their failed relationship.

She feels the familiar tightening in her throat as the prosecutor keeps asking her about their relationship. About the reason she was in attendance at the shows in question. Fortunately Kessler is there with a flurry of objections (irrelevant, badgering), and eventually she’s allowed to step down.

Next to Kessler, she sees Lenny again, his own eyes slightly reddened after her testimony, and he looks at her as if to say I’m sorry.

Her eyes, filled with tears, say, Me, too.

[geminisync]

A thought that Fundy pulls Ranboo to the side before the festival speeches and hands him a totem of undying without anyone seeing.

Fundy would have a suspicion on what’s going to happen, and he’d rather save Ranboo than himself because he has only one totem. Ranboo knows it’s gonna end badly, and Fundy knows that either one of them or both of them will die because of Q and Tubbo. He’d rather his found brother alive than him.

Also, no I can’t explain where the totems come from, it’s just my mind y’all, like I need my happy serotonin.

Brotherly angst, runaway together, I’ll die so you can live, I won’t let you die vibes.

[fluffy-papaya]

*quiet chanting* angst angst angst angst

well, if ya want it

“Tango?”

He keeps his breathing steady and even, little puffs of fog escaping his mouth everytime he exhales. It’s cold in the desert, tonight, even curled up against Dot as he is.

He hears a little sigh.

“He’s asleep.”

“What was that, 72 hours?” Zedaph asks, and Tango can hear the quiet sound of his fingernails against his helmet. “This guy’s weird, guys.”

“To be fair, we’re pretty weird too!” Skizz says, his cheerful voice carrying across the fire. “We’re so weird- like, super weird probably puts chocolate sauce on pepperoni weird! But Tango- oh yeah, he’s so weird he’s what happens when someone puts chocolate sauce on pepperoni while it’s on the pizza!”

“I don’t trust him.” Impulse sighs again, this one a little heavier, and Tango feels his gut drop a little. “Not in the slightest.”

“Well, you don’t have to trust him to like him.” Skizz snorts, and Tango takes a little pause in his breathing to listen a tad closer, hearing plastic rubbing against plastic. “He’s really cool, and he has a super cool ravager!”

Impulse clicks his tongue disapprovingly

“That’s the thing, though!” He says. “People don’t just tame ravagers! Even Three Fox can’t keep them contained with sedatives, and here this guy walks up with not just a pet ravager, one that chose him. People don’t just walk out of a Wither Root hub alive- they don’t walk out at all.”

“But he did.” The sound of fabric makes Tango think Skizz is shrugging in that careless way he did when he introduced himself. “I don’t trust him either, Imp-dude, but that doesn’t mean you have to be mean.”

The conversation falls silent, but Tango’s heart still hasn’t risen when the sun rises too, and he can’t raise his eyes either to look Impulse in them.

[sirrriusblack]

A Bad Dream

“What are you doing lurking in the corridors late at night, Potter?” a voice spat from behind Sirius. He muttered a spell and his wand lit up as he turned around to face the boy. Regulus. Sirius looked around for James. He wasn’t there.

“What are you on about, Reg?” Sirius tilted his head at his younger brother— at his ironed robes and sharp eyes. Regulus’ face was set into a sneer. He looked so like their mother in that moment that Sirius took a step back.

“That’s what it is now, isn’t it? You’ve left home and now you’re a Potter?” Sirius flinched. Regulus hating him, he couldn’t understand it. But he didn’t like it. He didn’t want it. Regulus lifted his wand to Sirius, but not like it was a weapon. He lifted it instead like it was an accusation. “You ran from there, Sirius. You ran from her. Like a coward,” Regulus spat.

“Reg? What is—what do you mean?” He blurted. Regulus wasn’t like this. He wasn’t mean and bitter. He wasn’t like them. But maybe he was now. Maybe it was Sirius’ fault those steel grey eyes that used to mirror his now mirrored his mother’s hate. Maybe it was Sirius’ fault Regulus’ wand was stretched toward him, threatening to reopen every wound and bruise and scar. Maybe it was Sirius’ fault Regulus hated him.

“You ran from her, Sirius,” he drawled, stepping closer. Sirius stepped back until he could feel the cold stone against his back and one of the portraits muttered something over his shoulder. Regulus didn’t speak again until he’d reached Sirius, until he’d lifted his wand up to Sirius’ neck and bared his teeth. Sirius’ wand was in his left hand but he couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t move. So he looked into his little brother’s eyes, his face illuminated by the wand light, and venom coating his gaze. “But you can’t run from me!” Regulus yelled, so loudly that Sirius clenched his eyes shut and flinched. Reg muttered something else— a curse, Sirius realised— and turned, walking away without a single glance behind him. Sirius watched him walk, hoping he’d turn, hoping he’d come back and laugh it off, tell him it was a prank. But Regulus disappeared around a far away corner, only his footsteps echoing through the castle to prove he’d been there at all.

A warm spot grew on Sirius’ stomach and only then did he look down. The pain kicked in like it was charmed only to hurt when Sirius glanced at it. A crimson stain spread over his shirt. It didn’t slow, it didn’t stop. An ache spread with it, crushing Sirius, burning Sirius, freezing Sirius. He fell to the ground, knees up to his stomach and let the pain take over. His spine burned while his blood froze and everything was tightening, closing in and Sirius fell to the floor. He couldn’t hold himself up. He couldn’t think beyond the pain in his stomach. He didn’t even know what spell it was. But he knew where Regulus had learned it.

Sirius watched the far away corner that Regulus had walked behind and listened for the footsteps, listened for Reg coming back with help, with regret, with a smile. 

Sirius hadn’t seen Regulus smile in so long. 

He watched the empty corridor until he couldn’t hear anything, until everything faded from view. No footsteps echoed through the castle, no one came to help him. Regulus didn’t even care to watch as Sirius’ view faded to black.