#angsty angsty angsty

[redhead-batgal]

Sneak Peek of I'm With You

This is a sneak peek of the part two, to I Feel A Sin Coming On (HERE). It's basically a Fem! Student! & Soulmate! X Damian Wayne/Robin and likeeee the angst has called to me so why not 😈

You were six when you decided to loathe soulmates. Six when you swore on your very soul- your existence that you would never love your soulmate. You swore to live in misery of your own making rather than fates. No matter who they were, you would hate them.

But fate... well fate hated to be tested. So, fate did the worst thing it could. It made you fall for the one person you swore never to.

Your soulmate.

Your very own soulmate who seemed like the only light in the dark and suddenly you began questioning whether or not these feelings- these emotions you had thought were your own and genuine- were actually yours. Or if they were just fate pulling its strings and making you dance and dance and dance.

To say you were upset was an understatement and... well let's just say fate might be prideful, but you were twice as petty.

At age thirteen you shoved the emotions you had so dearly cherished so deep in your chest they seemed like nothing more than echoes of naive mind. You distanced yourself from him and only let yourself feel in your loneliest of moments.

Four years, it had nearly been four years since you had begun your battle against fate. And- and and fate was getting stronger... as you have been told. The older you get- the closer you are to your soulmate, the stronger the bond is.

Those moments... those lonely moments happened more often, and those stupid annoying emotions rose up with the beating of your traitorous heart.

Which is exactly how you ended up in the last place you ever wanted to be. Face to face with your soulmate... with them recognizing you and what you were to them.

"I'm your soulmate." Damian Fucking Wayne said his eyes locked on you as you felt your heart jump to your throat and all the color drain from your face.

"Fucking shit, " You whispered, unable to break his gaze.

Shaking-hand shaking and heart pounding at your rib cage demanding you acknowledge him-that you give in and tell him he’s right. That you are soulmates and let fate drive you. But there was something fate and your treasonous heart seemed to forget. You were one petty bitch. 

Weakly smiling you let out a nervous laugh and turned, avoiding eye contact. Eyes darting around they finally settled on your bare wrist as your other hand scrambled to gather your things against your trembling chest.  

"Oh- my,” Your voice cracked as you shoved your things into your bag, “would you look at the time! I need to get going." 

Fingers racing over the items in your bag you went to zip it close and make your escape when your eyes rested on your final item. The book you were reading earlier. Which just so happened (damn you fate) to be right in front of Damian. Eyes raising to him, gazes latching for just a moment you did the one thing you should not. You looked down, down and back at your book before making the stupidly impulsive decision to lunge for it. Your fingers brushed the cover, nails barely scraping lines into it when a hand-warm and firm clasped around your wrist. Pulling you back towards the table in a quick tug that caused your stomach to slam against the tables side. Wincing you stabbed your nails into your palm, not daring to look up. You had fallen for his trap, the oh so obvious trap you could have avoided had you just not looked at him. 

"I'm your soulmate," He said again, his voice clear and stanch as he gently pulled on your arm, clearly trying to get you to meet his eyes, "and you are mine."

Soulmate- God why did you have to care about him. Why- why-did it have to be him? Why-

why couldn’t fate just leave you alone?

Something about the tone of his voice made your heart shatter. It was almost desperate, but you couldn’t-you couldn’t allow yourself to be weak. After all, you would not let fate win. Petty- you were so violently petty and prideful- oh even fate knew this yet- it still tried... this- you wouldn't let this stand. You could-no would not allow fate to get away with even attempting this. Taking a breath in-a deep breath- you raised your chin. Steadying your mind with the thoughts of your parents, of how you needed to be around them. Calm, poised, emotionless. Ignoring the well of tears in your throat and the pressure behind your eyes you finally met his gaze. 

Green. All you could see was those beautiful green eyes, wide and desperate. Yearning-yearning for you to give a reply. But the one you were about to give would only hurt those eyes, regardless, it needed to be done. One pain- one moment or time of pain and sorrow was far better than a life of them. 

Slowly letting out the breaths you previously let in you tilted your head, feeling his grip on your wrist lightening. 

“I do not have a soulmate," You began instantly seeing the surprise on his face-the confusion, so you continued, “I won’t have one. Not you. Not anyone. You see, I don't believe in soulmates. So, I do believe you are mistaken.” 

His grip dropped but seeing the broken look on his face made your facade crumble in an instant as your heart screamed to stop. To comfort him. To take back your words and press yourself into his arms. But you were smarter than that, even if you weren’t strong enough to hide the tears anymore. Throat bobbing, you felt your mouth tremble as your eyes stung and something warm began spilling down your cheeks. 

Pulling yourself away from him, you smiled a bitter smile, not even daring to acknowledge the tears you were shedding. Head high, you turned. 

Voice cracking, you bid farewell, “Now, if you excuse me, I have to get going.”

Tag List: @andromedaj2003 @thomasbeloved @instabull @zvtanna @daemonnix96 @neon-scenery @ssak-i @achromaticerebus @1lellykins @hyperfixiation-station @legendarylearner18

[spxcenotic]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Khîê ‘Ubran — a post-BoFA Bagginshield fix-it fic 💔✨

pairing: thorin oakenshield/bilbo baggins

status: ongoing

post-BoFA fix-it (Thorin lives), dwarf braiding culture, mutual pining,  found family chaos (the Company is in full meddling mode), soft confessions & gentle touches, “he still loves you, you know” energy, slow-burn healing

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield Characters: Thorin's Company, Thorin Oakenshield, Bilbo Baggins, Gandalf (Tolkien) Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Thorin Oakenshield Lives, thorin's company - Freeform, Dwarf Culture, dwarf braid culture, thorin braids bilbo's hair, dwarf/hobbit cultural differences, Dwarf Courting, Angst, bilbo keeps the braid from thorin, The Hobbit - Freeform, Yearning, Language of Flowers, thorin gifts bilbo a bouquet of flowers but flower language makes it offensive, Cultural Misunderstandings Summary:

Thorin lives, and Bilbo leaves. Neither of them know how to fix what was broken between them, but Bilbo never unbraids his hair, and Thorin never stops watching the western sky.

[sunless-garden]

So I’ve been thinking about TOS Spock/Spock Prime a lot lately.

Leonard Nimoy is sorely missed, and of course that’s the real explanation for why Spock Prime died (offscreen) in Star Trek Beyond. But what is the onscreen reason?

Spock was 161 years old - relatively young for a Vulcan - and given no specific cause of death. I’ve seen plenty of reasonable explanations for why Spock Prime died relatively young: his human half, his death and resurrection, stress, etc.

But what if he died from pon farr? What if, after Jim Kirk (Prime) died, he took surrogate mates to survive his subsequent pon farrs? But then, Romulus is lost, and Spock goes back in time, and Vulcan is lost, and then he touches the mind of a Jim Kirk for the first time in 94 years.

And it isn’t *his* Jim Kirk, but it is *a* Jim Kirk. And when Spock’s pon farr hits again, he finds that he can’t satisfy it with a surrogate mate. Not when there is a Jim Kirk alive out there.

Only Jim Kirk will do.

But this Jim Kirk isn’t his. This young, vulnerable version of his mate isn’t *his* mate. And Spock can’t ask him to satisfy his pon farr.

So he doesn’t.

[mochalottie]

Chapter 21 here we go!

Alrighty, this chapter is...intense so trigger warnings are as follows:

1) nightmares 2) panic attack due to claustrophobia (only a few paragraphs but just be wary) 3) momentary suffocation (again, slight, but wanted to include warning just in case) and 4) one big blanket warning for mental torture.

Spider does not have a good time at all, so take caution guys, take breaks when needed but do enjoy! Hopefully this will be the worst it gets at least on the RDA's side of things ahehe...he...;)

Enjoy~<3

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[uhzuku]

cw: spoilers for chapter 266 of the manga ; canon divergent after certain chapter events ; mentioned character death, angst, mourning, crying.

it had been hours now since y/n had left the crumbling house that shuichi had found for himiko, y/n, and himself to hide away in, and after a few days to get a grip on what the fuck all had just happened to them and the family they’d made with each other they’d each hidden away to mourn.

they’d all chosen rooms and holed up in those for a while, and shuichi had tried to fix things, but not everything was fixable, and despite his efforts everyone — including himself, though he refused to acknowledge it for the girls’ sakes — was just as depressed as they would have been had he done nothing at all. they all refused to try and look at the news, not wanting to see the faces of people they trusted that were either dead, missing, or traitors plastered across the screen; it would have only made things worse.

so they didn’t.

they slept, and they breathed, and they mourned.

they slept, slept because that was the only sure way to make the cruel realizations of the waking world stay far far away from their minds, slept because it was the only way their hearts stopped hurting, slept because it was the only way they could see their fallen family again, slept because they had no guidance anyhow, so what the hell was the point of existing?

they breathed, breathed because to breathe meant that they lived, breathed because that meant they’d be able to carry on like the lost would want, breathed because the fallen deserved to do what they no longer were able to, breathed because it wasn’t fair for them to waste what they’d been blessed with.

they mourned, mourned the loss of someone they thought they could trust that ended up stabbing them in the back in the worst way possible, mourned the loss of a man they all loved in their own way that had been so cruelly stolen from them in a way no one could come back from, mourned the loss of a friend who’d avenged the former man in the only way he knew how but then had to run to save himself, mourned the loss of a leader they all cared for that just… disappeared, a leader they just couldn’t seem to locate to regroup.

all of that, and they were still pathetic, minuscule shards of what they used to be.

once he managed to pull himself together even in the slightest shuichi cooked for them, wanting to make sure that he at least tried to keep up the forgotten normality they’d managed to create amongst themselves, but even he couldn’t make them eat what he prepared; everyone was suffering the biggest loss they’d every experienced — shuichi a beloved teammate, himiko a best friend, and y/n her lover… so the food went uneaten. it cooled, then went rotten, and eventually it was thrown out, because what was shuichi supposed to do with it? just like their family it was ruined, unsalvagable, destroyed —none of them were standing properly after this latest blow, and it showed.

the three were just… there. shaped sacks of flesh and bone and everything else that made up a human curle duo alone in the darknesses of their own minds.

and then y/n had gone outside.

the screen door at the back of the house slamming hard against its frame was the first thing that had managed to rouse himiko from where she was stranded in the depths of her depression filled mind. the sound was so terribly loud in the bitter silence of the house they were hiding in, and she feared that someone else had come to take more of her family away, so she shakily snatched up two of her knives and prowled into the living room, a viciously animalistic snarl marring her face. she’d already lost so fucking much, she refused to lose anything or anyone else from the broken group that had taken her in and loved her unconditionally.

shuichi hears the loud, jarring thud the same time himiko does, and while she had carefully gotten up and snatched her blood encrusted knives with the slow gait of a vicious predatorial big cat he’s on his feet in an instant, grabbing a pair of heavy brass knuckles instead of the others; he’d more than ready to beat someone into the ground, no matter their age, if they lay hands on his family.

himiko meets shuichi in the hallway heading to the kitchen, and notices with a sort of bitter reassurance that he has his own weapon, but that’s replaced with panic when she silently peeks into the room y/n had claimed for herself and found it empty — the bed was messy and unmade, and all of the things they’d brought with themselves were there, but y/n was absent, and it made the pair panic. that was why they rushed to the back door and threw it open, the screen tearing a little, before they stopped and just took in the sight in front of them.

y/n was standing outside completely fine, her hair and the loose cotton dress she wore whipping around in the fierce wind as she looks up at the sky staring seemingly at nothing, and the pair look at each other in concern before they creep outside together intent on luring her back inside. it was going to rain soon, they both could smell it, and they didn’t want her to get sick from standing in a storm. as they creep closer they see something on her cheeks shining, and they both come to the realization at the same time that they’re tears. their hearts twist painfully at the sight of the formerly bubbly woman so.. silent, and empty, and they walk up and stand on either side of her just… staring up at the star filled sky with her for a moment before himiko asks her what on earth they were all looking at out here, the younger woman’s voice uncharacteristically trembling with each word. right after she does, a large star in the sky, one that seemed far more prominent than any of the others, seems to sparkle brighter than anything just for her, and as it does y/n smiles, finally showing an emotion other than sorrow. she links her pinkies with each of theirs, and as a fresh wave of tears rolling down her face she whispers four simple words.

“we’re looking at jin.”

copyright © { 2021 } by erenscockslut. do not modify or repost.

[nil-elk]

Some angsty Beauyasha for your troubles

When Yasha and Beau begin to sleep together in the same bed, and Yasha gets a proper look at Beau's scar from where she stabbed her, Yasha is briefly hesitant to be near her. Beau, in her no-big-deal way, tries to reassure her that it's okay; it's a cool scar added to her collection, as she's said before.

When they fall asleep that night, Yasha's slumber is fitful, marred with flashes of imagery of Zuala's execution and screams that she could not bear to witness, ran away from. Imagery of her dearest friend Molly, a deep wound where his heart should be, dead red eyes staring back at her. A flash of lightning blinds her vision, and she sees blue robes and brown skin where a colorful, intricate jacket and purple skin once were. Piercing blue, lifeless eyes look into her own, tears staining that beautiful face that she'd peppered with kisses the night before. Yasha realizes the tears are her own, her body hovering over Beau's, leaning her weight against the sword embedded within the body beneath her.

Another flash of lightning, accompanied by a loud thunderous clap, tears Yasha from her nightmare, and she sits up with a start. She's sweating profusely, her black and white hair sticking to a face and body, limbs that she is unsure are her own. The motion jars Beau from her sleep, and immediately she draws Yasha's head against her chest, cooing soft reassurances into her ear in Celestial. "It's okay, my love... I'm still here, I'm still here..." The Aasimar wonders why Beau's night shirt is wet, and soon understands that she's crying, quiet sobs muffled by soft fabric.

Again, in Celestial, Beau whispers with strong conviction, "That red bastard's dead. He's gone and won't ever hurt you, us, ever again. My love, you made sure of that.." She coaxes Yasha to look up at her, calloused thumbs wiping away her tears. Soft lips press against Yasha's with a gentleness that breaks and mends her heart all at once, and she inhales deeply, Beau's kiss breathing life and love back into her guilt-ridden body.

[mycatshuman]

What's angstier? Fainting from exhaustion and hunger in front of a stranger whom one has a crush on, or fainting in front of a small child who looks up to you for the same reasons and theres no one else around?

No need to worry about why I need an answer.