Discover Top Posts Tagged with #ooooh angst

*throws down violently then runs away giggling*

#murder drones #serial designation n #uzi doorman #ooooh angst #murder drones tessa #fav Australian #angst #funny teehehhe #attempted comic

@mrsxrobinscn continued x

Maureen hadn’t seen the before- only the after. And it nearly made her heart stop. It was an instinct that made her spring into action; perhaps a mother’s instinct. She made note of the situation. The car? Totaled? The stranger? Not looking that great. “Okay, just stay calm I’ll call the police.” By the time Maureen fumbled her cell out of her pocket the the woman began crumpling. Afraid to further any injury, Maureen refrained from touching the woman- last thing she wanted was to make it worse.

Hoping she did the right thing, Maureen waited until sirens could be heard in the distance. She stayed out of their way as best as possible and answered as many questions as she could. Doubting that they would let her ride with the unknown woman, the Robinson Mother resorted to driving herself to the hospital. Maybe she could at least know how the stranger would recover.

Prue was struggling to stay conscious, desperately trying to avoid being taken to the hospital. She just wanted to go home. In her mind, she made a valiant effort to avoid being carried into the ambulance but in reality she barely moved. Her body was definitely more aware of its instability now.

The witch couldn’t remember much of the ride, a few questions asked by paramedics but her answers were jumbled and quiet. Prue had sustained many injuries in her life, several fatal even, but she’d never been in an accident that left her this weakened. A car accident especially. Her brain kept saying accident but she knew better. This wasn’t a bloody accident. Unfortunately, she really didn’t want to deal with the cops, but it had to be a muggle this time, didn’t it? Demons didn’t resort to vehicular manslaughter, after all. But who would it have been? Prue didn’t have muggle enemies, none that she knew of anyway.

Once admitted, Prue watched as the overhead lights of the hospital passed above her while they wheeled her to...somewhere. She tried to hear what the doctors were saying about her before they started talking to her. They asked her name, even though she suspected they already knew. But for memory and brain function testing, she obliged. “P--Prue. Prue Halliwell.” That much she did remember, thankfully. The incident was a blur and the ride in the ambulance was spotty, but she knew her name and where she lived so that was good, right?

She absolutely dreaded the thought of the doctors contacting her mother, not wanting her to worry about all this but she also was a bit anxious---Prue hated hospitals. Never a good memory in one, as was for most. She did want her mum though, childish as it may have been. She wished she could stay conscious long enough to know what the hell was going on.

#mrsxrobinscn #ooooh angst #i love it

Imagine Death - the horseman who swore to get you home, to restore your species, who promised that he could and would protect you - feeling like an utter failure when you're severely hurt through his own careless mistake. Imagine him spiralling down into a pit of admonishing self-loathing.

'You couldn't even protect your own brother, how could you think you'd keep your friend safe? Y/n could have died and it is all. Your. Fault.'

#ooooh angst #darksiders #darksiders 2 #death #i love this shit #such self loathing

Send "Stumble" for your severely injured muse to fall into my muse's arms. | accepting.

@maninvented asked: stumble… hehe…

"E-Eugene!!!" she cried, voice filled with desperation as lithe arms instinctively wrapped around him, trying to shield him from collapsing pon hard cobblestones.

"What... what happened????" wide, horrified eyes fixed on the dark crimson that stained his clothes, now tainting her own.

With care she helped ease him to the ground, heart pounding, as her mind raced, searching for the source of the violence that had done this to him. No one... no one could be so cruel! That’s what Rapunzel wanted to believe. But deep down, she knew. Eugene’s past as a former thief had made him many enemies, and she feared one of them had finally caught up with him.

"Hang in there, okay?" hands trembled as she cradled his injured form. "I’ll heal you... just stay with me."

#maninvented #♡ ˋ⋆𝘚𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘵 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 / askbox #OOOOH ANGST

‘GAME OVER’

Send ‘GAME OVER’ to get a glimpse of one of the worst possible endings that can happen to my muse in their life. // accepting.

Hell doesn’t offer second chances, not to traitors anyway – Beelzebub knows it, because she personally made it so. She knows many things now, the kind she used to assume before, but thought herself untouchable: a former queen, brought down to her knees – is there anything more pathetic? She could have explained, of course, but they wouldn’t have listened. They never listen. Instead, they torture. Not for the sake of getting information. Because they love it – she loved it, too, she believed it was funny how they always started small, like dislocating a thumb or pulling your nails out and getting you a pile of paperwork to sort with your bleeding fingers.

It isn’t that funny anymore. It’s the wind and the rocks, they said, or neck-deep in a frozen lake. Too bad demons cannot be actually sent to the Circles for torment. She’s the Lord of Nothing now, though the flies remain, and they bite, and they make it itch, and they tear her skin open, as if they, too, are disappointed. As if they didn’t know what she was doing before this. Powerless and despised is the worst combination possible. Worse even than the station of those disposable demons – at least they can always be torn apart by a hungry hellhound or thrown in a bucket of holy water for the thrill of it.

It was one drop of holy water worth of problems, but she wanted to set an example. There’s no martyrdom in Hell, there’s only that monumental willpower that reeks of fake courage in accepting the worst punishment imaginable. Eternity in the deepest pit can be handled if you have at least somewhat of an imagination. Not this.

She doesn’t look at him, ever – brought down here, and since the very first second she couldn’t bring herself to look into his eyes. Dark now. His wings, too. They never talked about it, but she knows already – she’d fallen, a long time ago. She knows this agony. The slow, torturous transformation from an angel to a demon. And it’s hard to say which one of them is despised more, now that there is no protection she can offer. No power left to remind them of. The Prince of Shithole. Hell makes examples out of its traitors. Maybe she should have known better. Or maybe the long lost goddess of Ekron enjoyed herself too much, playing the actual GOD.

#ineffableduality #ooooh ANGST #dethroning is the worst that could happen #torture tw

[~Smoke - Foster~]

Alice could usually tolerate school for the most part. She received great grades, despite the attitude she gave her teachers, and she worked adequately with others when she had to. But even after third period, she just couldn’t do it anymore. Her head was down in every class, she wasn’t really responding to the few people who were concerned about her, and she didn’t want to wait around until the end of the day

She wanted to leave.

Sending a text to Foster, who she knew would agree with just about everything she asked, she told him that she was skipping after lunch and that he was welcome to join her. Two periods later, she was waiting outside the front of the building, watching as the other students poured out rapidly onto the sidewalks and streets.

#ooooh angst #a1: pvlpficticnF #pvlpficticn #here you go!