#voice breaking

[nyamadermont]

Powerless

Angstpril 2026 #20: Conflict, #21: Bravery, and #22: Voice Breaking

@chaos-company

“I won’t tell you anything, you monster!”

“Very well.”

Everything was proceeding according to plan. In deference to the connection they once had shared, he had given her the opportunity to resolve their conflict, to join him in full. But she had capitulated to the sweet taste of bending, to the power she wielded over the non-benders who could not threaten her.

Through the eye holes of his mask, she burned so strong and fierce, even in her depleted humiliation. Her mis-placed bravery poured up through her defiant words.

He would see her humbled, revealed for the weak woman he had found her to be. Without her bending, she would be nothing.

Deliberately, Amon walked behind Beifong. He was glad of the gloves that kept him from feeling the soft skin of her neck or the depth of the wrinkles on her forhead.

He reached inside her form, stifled her chi, and watched her gape up at the sky.

Rather than let her collapse, he steadied her on her knees as his faithful brought forward the rest of his… incentives.

She gasped, and tried to stand up. But he kept his hand on her shoulder, and extended his powers to keep her in place.

The woman was gagged, but she was able to keep the baby silent.

The youngest one, he didn’t bother with threats. The child was clearly terrified.

Once purified, he seemed to faint.

Beifong shouted some meaningless word.

The next one up in size seemed to have inherited Beifong’s glare, even if they weren’t actually related. While he was a bit unclear on the details, it no longer mattered.

He looked back at Beifong.

So much water was running down her face, he couldn’t tell if she was crying.

“Tell me.”

“Amon, don’t do this!”

The second child collapsed over her brother’s still body.

“Amon!”

The oldest child raised her shoulders and stared back at him calmly, even though Beifong continued to scream behind him, her voice breaking.

The child’s bravery did not outlast her purification.

The last airbender was clearly trying everything he could to stir the air around himself. But it could not break the chains around his wrists and ankles. It could not disturb the hold Amon had over his body.

Amon turned and looked at Beifong one final time.

“Tell me.”

With a lurch, she broke his hold on her, but that only gave her the freedom to crash forward on her face, still screaming incoherently.

The man on his knees strained against Amon’s power, but had only a fraction of the will. Silently, his bending fled, banished from the world.

Amon turned his back on the people who once had called themselves “masters.”

author's note: If you liked this, tell @orangepanic and @btheleaf If you didn't, throw the rotten tomatoes my way. ;)

[j-intherain]

~✧Where the Light Falls Wrong✧~

Tags: protective!Jud, wife blaming, this man is trash, we all cheered for the punch

Wc: ~1.2k

The rectory had become unbearable. Too quiet.

Too still. Too full of things that refused to leave. Jud had tried. Tried to read. Tried to pray. Tried to let the silence settle the way it always had.

It didn’t.

Every room felt occupied. Not by presence, but by memory.

So he left.

The bar wasn’t far. Low lights. Muted conversations. The kind of place where no one looked too closely at anyone else. Jud stood in the doorway for a moment longer than necessary, the low hum of voices and clinking glasses spilling into the street before he finally stepped inside. It smelled like old wood and spilled beer. Something warm beneath it all.

He had been there before. Not often, but enough. When he stepped inside, the bar was louder than he remembered. Not in a way that overwhelmed, not enough to drown anything out, but just enough to blur the edges of thought, to soften what would otherwise sit too sharply in his mind.

That was why he had come. Not for the drink, but for the noise. For something that didn’t feel like silence pressing in on him from all sides.

Donna, the owner, noticed him the second he stepped in. Mid-fifties, sharp eyes, sharper tongue. The kind of woman people mistook for rough until they stayed long enough to notice the way she remembered names. Orders. Stories.

“Look what the wind dragged in,” she said, wiping a glass with a cloth that had seen better days. “Didn’t think I’d see you tonight.”

Jud offered a faint smile, already shrugging off his jacket.

“Neither did I.”

She snorted softly.

“That bad, huh?”

He didn’t answer that. Didn’t need to. Donna didn’t push, she never did. Instead, she poured him something without asking. Set the glass in front of him with a quiet thud.

“On the house,” she said. “You look like you need it.”

He glanced at it, then at her.

“Don’t tell anyone.”

She smirked.

“Your secret’s safe with me, Father.”

The word secret lingered longer than it should have. Jud took the glass and took a long sip. The burn was immediate. Unfamiliar, but grounding.

For a while, they talked about nothing. Weather. Regulars. The same easy rhythm that came from not wanting to talk about anything that mattered. His gaze drifted, almost absentmindedly, to the corner. The shrine was still there. Candles half-burnt. A photograph. A poetry book. A vinyl. Two names carved into wood with care that hadn’t dulled over time. He remembered the night she told him. The way her voice had softened. The way it had broken, just slightly. People carry things, he had thought then, even the tougher ones. They always do.

“You see that guy over there?”

Donna’s voice pulled him back. He followed her gaze. At first, nothing stood out. Just a group. Early thirties, maybe. Drinks in hand. Loud laughter. A couple of women leaning into the conversation, one of them throwing her head back as she laughed. Nothing extraordinary.

Donna tilted her chin slightly.

“That one.”

Jud narrowed his eyes just slightly. Then he saw him. The man stood out. His hand resting on one of the girls’ waist. His mouth brushing too near to her earlobe. Jud didn't know why but something about it felt… off.

“What about him?” he asked, frowning faintly.

Donna’s voice cut through quietly, leaning just slightly closer across the bar, like she was sharing something not meant for the whole room.

“He’s married.” The words dropped casually. “And of course that's not his wife. A shame, really,” Donna added, quieter now. “His wife’s lovely. Quiet girl. Bit shy. New in town, I think, though he grew up here apparently.”

Something in Jud stilled.

“She came only once, but I have met her sometimes at the bakery.” Donna continued. “Always polite. Always smiling.” A pause. “A good girl.”

And there it was. Not loud. Not sudden. Just click. The pieces slid into place with a quiet certainty that made something deep in his chest tighten. New in town. The smile. The quiet. The way you held yourself like you were always trying not to take up too much space.

Jud’s hand stilled around his almost empty glass. For a moment, he didn’t move. Didn’t think. Didn’t breathe. Then, he set the glass down.

And stood.

Donna watched him. “Hey, Father-” but she didn’t stop him.

Jud crossed the room slowly. Not rushed. Not aggressive. Measured. Controlled. Until he reached the table. The man - David, he was sure now - didn’t notice him at first. Too busy laughing. Too busy leaning into something that wasn’t his.

Jud stood there for a second. Looking at him, close enough to see it clearly now. The laugh. The lean. The hand. Wrong.

“Excuse me.”

The man looked up. Confusion flickering across his face.

“Yeah?” he said. Jud held his gaze.

“Does your wife know how you behave when she’s not around?" His voice was calm. Too calm. Maybe it was the alcohol loosening something he usually kept tight.

David looked confused at first, then annoyed.

“What the hell are you talking about, dude?”

Up close, it was worse. The alcohol. The carelessness. The complete absence of anything resembling guilt.

“You should have more respect,” Jud said quietly. “For what you have at home.”

A beat. Then he stepped back and turned, ready to leave. But then, the voice came. Loud. Cocky. Drunken. Breaking through the room like it didn’t belong to anything decent.

“Oh, you mean my perfect little wifey?”

Jud stilled, but didn’t turn. David laughed.

“Yeah… she’s real good at playing that part.” Another voice tried to interrupt. It didn’t matter, he continued: “Maybe if she actually did what she’s supposed to-” he went on, slurring slightly, careless. “If she complied with her duties as a wife…”

Something inside Jud snapped.

“…maybe then I wouldn’t have to look elsewhere.”

Silence didn’t fall. It shattered. Jud turned, too fast, something in his chest rising, sharp and violent and impossible to contain. He didn’t think. Didn’t choose. Didn’t hesitate. His fist connected with David’s jaw with a force that shocked even him, the crack of it cutting through the noise of the bar in a way that silenced everything else.

The chair tipped. Glasses rattled. Voices rose. Someone shouted. But Jud just stood there. Breathing hard. His hand still half-curled like it hadn’t caught up with what it had done, the echo of it still running through his arm. Through his chest. Through everything.

David groaned, half-dazed, hand flying to his face.

“What the hell! You’re insane!”

Maybe. Maybe he was. Because this wasn’t what he was supposed to do. This wasn’t who he was supposed to be.

And yet… it had felt right. For one single, terrible moment, it had felt right.

David tried to stood up and fight back, but he was stopped by a couple of his friends. “Dude, that's the local priest” reached Jud's ears but he barely absorbed the words. He continued looking at David.

And all Jud could see wasn't him… it was you.

Thanks for reading~ 💜

Taglist: @quietly-kept @sidelit

Masterlist

[autobot2001]

Behind Closed Doors | Framed in The Shadows Ch. 14

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 ch. 13.

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.

Ch. 15

[bespectacled-bookwyrm]

Angstpril 2026 - 22

https://archiveofourown.org/works/83595676

Summary: He wasn't afraid.

[eldrytchcryptid]

🎼*sobbing quietly, to be sung with a cracking pubescent voice*

🎼My throat hurts~

🎼And my dick hurts~

🎼I picked the spots on my face and now they hurt tooooo~

🎼Aaa- *voice crack beat* -aaa~

[em-writes-stuff]

Voice Breaking

Bad things happen bingo 

characters: chat noir, ladybug

warnings: none that i’m aware of :)

words: 811

@badthingshappenbingo

Adrien laid in his bed, listening to the choir of crickets outside his window, Ladybug’s words ringing in his ears.

You have no idea what you’re talking about.

What was she talking about was the real question. He knew for a fact that he’d never been akumatized. That’s not something you can forget. Especially when you’re one of the heroes that fights the akumatized villains in Paris. There’s no possible way he’d been akumatized. Not at all.

You have no idea what you’re talking about.

He groaned and rolled over, not able to get the words out of his head. He covered his face with his hands and sighed. 

“What’s worrying you, kid?” Plagg asked. He floated above Adrien’s face, throwing a piece of camembert into the air and eating it. 

Adrien sat up and huffed. “Just something Ladybug said.” 

“Lady troubles? Maybe I can help. What’d she say?” the kwami prompted. 

“Is there a way I could’ve been akumatized and no one but her remembers it?” He asked. 

Plagg thought for a moment, then lowered onto the bed. 

“Sounds like something you need to talk to her about.” 

Adrien sighed, “That’s what I thought you’d say.” 

He transformed and jumped out his window, not sure if he was ready to confront Ladybug but knowing he had to. 

Marienette sat in front of her computer, finishing up homework before the sun rose so she could have the weekend all to herself. Just as she finished, her computer chimed with a notification from her favorite blog, SpotTheCat, with a new Chat sighting. She smiled softly and checked where he was. 

He was at their favorite meet-up spot, so she figured she’d transform and they could patrol for a while before she and Alya were going to meet up for a movie. 

He heard frosted grass crunch under her feet as she walked up to him, but he didn’t turn to her yet. She sat down next to him and leaned her head on his shoulder. 

“Hey, you. I thought we weren’t patrolling until tomorrow. What’s up?” She asked. 

“How come you remember me being akumatized but no one else does?” he asked before he could chicken out. 

She sat up and moved away from him a little, turning to look at him. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t do that. Just tell me.” He said. 

She looked at him, trying to read his emotions, but his face was scarily blank except for his eyes, which were wide and clueless. 

“Ok.” she said. She took a deep breath and wrung her hands. “A couple months ago, Bunnyx pulled me into her Burrow and told me to fix the future. She threw me into another timeline and…you were the only person there. Except you weren’t…you.

“You’d been akumatized and-” she paused. She looked at him, then at the ground. “And you knew who I was. Outside the suit. Your suit was white, and-” she stopped. 

He leaned over and rested his head on her shoulder, neither of them wanting to continue. But Chat knew he had to know what else happened. If he didn’t ask, he’d never forgive himself. 

“Where was everyone?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“Your ability was infinite destruction. You didn’t need to summon your power or wait for it to recharge.” she said, her voice breaking. “I think…as soon as you were akumatized, you used your power and-”

“Stop.” He interrupted. 

She looked down at him and saw tears welling in his eyes. She grabbed his hand and held it tightly. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I just…couldn’t.” she said. 

He nodded, “I know. It’s ok. I’m sorry for pushing.” 

They sat there, not saying anything for a long while. Eventually, he asked more about what happened, and she answered them willingly; she knew he had a right to know what happened. 

He was crying softly, still leaning on her shoulder. “I’m so sorry for hurting you.” 

She squeezed his hand, “Hey, you know it’s not your fault, right?” She asked, “It’s Shadowmoth’s. However you were akumatized, it wasn’t your fault. And neither was everything else that happened.” 

“Still though. I’m sorry that you had to go through that. And that you didn’t feel like you could tell me. I get why you didn’t though.” 

They kept talking, eventually switching to easier topics. They sat there until the sun came up and the park filled with Parisiens and they went their separate ways, promising to meet up the next day. 

Marinette went home feeling lighter, glad that they’d finally talked about everything she’d kept from him. 

Adrien got home and fell onto his bed, his shoulders felt heavier now that he knew everything Ladybug had been keeping from him, but understanding why she had, and glad that they were finally on the same page again. 

~

just a reminder that reblogs are appreciated over likes :)

[marwoodlives]

兰陵金氏,  金光瑶

[Lánlíng Jīn Shì,  Jīn Guāngyáo]

Farewell 告辞 [gào cí]