#here. have some angst.

[muses-morii]

@k3ytoheart asked for some angst! @Riku

I lied. You don't get to choose what kind of angst you get.

~ Sora ~

And sometimes, all that is left, is empty.

Sora was dying.

He could feel it with every slow beat of his heart.

He could feel it with every breath that rattled through his throat.

He could feel it as his life bled out onto the cold stone.

He was as far from home, as any could be.

As far from anyone else, as he could get.

As far from help, as was possible. Sora was dying and he was powerless to do anything about it. He had no more potions, and was out of mana. He had no special items to save himself, nothing magic and nothing enchanted. It was only him and his Keyblade and his life, dripping out of him.

A thin line of red dripped down his chin and he leaned his head back against the blue cliff. There was no one and nothing left to save and no one and nothing coming to save him. Everything was empty and he was as nothing, lost among the blue, crystal ravines.

He hadn't even stopped all the monsters.

He could see them now, running past; few stopping to look at him. But look was all they did as he stared blankly ahead, one eye the deepest, darkest blue, the other flickering to yellow. They didn't need to steal his heart.

It was already gone, given away to someone else. Would they forgive him? For his failure? For losing? This one time, when it counted the most?

Would they come looking for him? Among the endless paths and creeping stone walls? Would they find him and the red streak he left across the blue? Would they find what was left? And then what? What would they do? They would do what needed to be done.

Sora was dying.

And something in him burned as the red dripped off his chin. As the red pooled around him and ran in rivulets down the smooth, blue stone. He stared ahead; he couldn't even see the sunset from where he was. He was alone. Utterly alone and so empty. There was nothing left.

Red dripped onto blue.

Blue, became yellow.

And ragged breaths, became mournful cries.

Mourning the loss of love, of life. Mourning and searching.

Hungry.

H̶u̵n̴g̷r̷y̸

[ofsgiathan]

❝  Why  didn't  you  tell  me  sooner  that  I  was  your  first,  @fairboy?  ❞

[lorehappy83]

"Do what you must, Angel. I don't think you can do the wrong thing"

[kittykalliarts]

For decades, the blank vision that Iudex Neuvillette wears near his heart has been subject to much discussion in Fontaine. Nobody remembers who it had once belonged to or why the ancient dragon protected it so jealously. It is said that if the Chief Justice would to stare at it for a long while, it would be sure to rain right after. Oh, how beloved that person must've been.

[lucabyte]

"So what's the weirdest possible first (second) impression Loop could make on the party in postcanon?" "Yeah, that, probably."

+ Bonus

theyre just standing there in direct party order while this happens. normal tuesday.

[timethehobo]

If Rook had to choose between themselves or a companion in a losing fight.

[emmyrosee]

“Shes a beaut.”

The man claps a massive, calloused hand on the hood of the blue truck, smiling and chewing on a toothpick. “And how many miles she got?”

Shinsuke nods, “it has just under hundred-thousand.” He clasps his hands together and shrugs, “the brakes are new, tires might be going out within a few months but they’ll get you through the winter for sure.”

“Oil changed?”

Shinsuke smiles, “I do them myself. Made the change to synthetic moons ago, so it won’t give ya any problems, preformed one about two months ago.”

The man chuckles and shakes his head, “so, what’s wrong with it?”

Whats wrong with it?

Whats wrong with it?

You’re not here. That’s what’s wrong. There’s a vision Shinsuke has of you in the passenger seat, singing to the radio with your hand dancing out of the window of the car. When his gaze flicks to the back, he can see you in the bed of the truck, eating a snack and staring at the stars that dazzle in your eyes. He looks at the man, and his mind can briefly picture you leaning on the hood, watching him tinker and mess with his truck with a glass of iced tea in your hand for him.

He swallows thickly at the memories, the vision of you in one of his most beloved possessions. The truck he spent years saving for, for a job he spent years dreaming about, with a life he prayed to the gods for. You were the thing he was missing. You were the light that set him right. You were the one he thanked the universe for.

And now the truck, the job, the life is here. And you’re not.

And he doesn’t want it anymore.

“Kita?”

“There’s a dent in the passenger side, rear,” he manages, nudging his head. He can’t look at it because you caused it- the mailbox you hit hasn’t looked the same since.

But he doesn’t mind. He won’t fix it.

“That’s it?” The man laughs. “The itty bitty dent is the reason you don’t want this gorgeous girl?”

Shinsuke smiles because no.

It’s not.

Not even close.

[thatskindarough]

I’m not sure about anyone else but I personally have a pretty hard time finding Aziraphale centric fics. Crowley centric fics are really easy to find, stuff that splits C/A evenly is also pretty easy to find.

So I think we should start a thread of Aziraphale centric fics (or at least ones where he gets to take a major role in.)

I’ll go first:

These are the Soul by Mikripetra—This is my comfort fic I love it with my entire being.

Starmaker and Starlight by Nohaljiachi—This one just made me very happy then very sad. It focuses on Aziraphale before the beginning, coming to be friends with the starmaker (angel Crowley)

Prax In Terris —by Oatmeal Addiction I love this one because it captures the spirit of good omens perfectly. Genuinely if s3 was a fanfiction this (and the other fic in this series) is what I’d want it to be. Now it is not exactly Aziraphale centric, it does split time pretty evenly with Crowley and Muriel, but I love Aziraphale’s role in this, and he gets to be really interesting and stubborn. (Maybe not for all readers who dislike face value interpretations of the FF though.) It’s a wip about the second coming and I’m very curious where the author is gonna take it.

If you want, please feel free to add any Aziraphale centric fics to this post and also please shamelessly self-rec your own fics

(Edited to add the author names and also to say thank you for everyone recommending things, it makes me and I’m sure other Aziraphale fans very happy!)

[choochooboss]

Emmet heading off for the holidays - first time alone. [Festival of Family 1/8] Some WIPs under the cut!

I'm so tired of looking at this - the composition and colors were a massive struggle and I still don't know if I made good choices or not.. Welp, I've been holding onto this well over a year now so it's time to move on! And it's not the only piece I've been holding onto; next one will be the biggest of the set of 8 pieces!

[yourlocalabomination]

I am not immune to funny crackships.

+ Bonus

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

MDZS x ISAT part 1: In Stars and Necromancy.

(Part 2)

[eccentricmya]

When Maedhros had—during an evening of drinking under the stars in Himlad—confided to the middle three of his brothers about his fear of being ignored after the incident at Thangorodrim, Celegorm had loudly proclaimed, "there shall never come a day where you call and I do not answer. Not as long as I yet dwell among the living. This I swear to you, brother!"

That had led to much alarm among them, oathbound as they were. Yet Curufin had repeated Celegorm's words, swearing to always respond whenever Maedhros called him. And before long, Caranthir too had sworn the same despite Maedhros' vehement dissuasion. "Oaths are not to be trifled with", he'd said.

"All the more reason for us to swear this," Caranthir had countered. "There are no insincere oaths, but false promises aplenty."

And Maedhros would deny tearing up at the underlying warmth in his brother's words. He was not a morose drunk, no matter what Curufin asserted, so it must've been the smoke from their campfire, for none of his brothers had commented as he had swiped under his eyes. Celegorm hadn't even looked at him as he'd spoken into the silence, "you were forgotten once, brother. Never again."

True to their words, ever since that night, every time Maedhros called, his brothers responded. None of his letters to them went unanswered, not even when he worded them less than affectionately amidst some ongoing disagreement. Never did it happen that he asked them something, rhetorical it may be, and his brothers stayed quiet. Even in sleep, if he called their name to check if they were awake, their fëar would reach out in response, reassuring him that they heard him.

So when, in Doriath, he called, "Curvo! Moryo! Tyelko!" and they answered not, nor did their fëar weave with his own, he knew.

He knew that there lay no beating heart inside their bloodied body. No breath left in their lungs to say, "I hear you, brother."

He knew. His calls will remain unanswered.

He knew. He shall be unheard once again. For the day had come when he called and his brothers did not answer.

He knew their oaths to him stood fulfilled. For they dwelt no longer among the living to keep it.

Maedhros knew. His brothers were dead.

[snailtaco]

"Sun to Me" - Zach Bryan

[theghooligan]

bloodraven being a tree and giving his great great grandfather sleep paralysis demons all season courtesy of harrenhall and alys:

[unrealwasteland]

[cringefail-clown]

You're an emerald in the sky

You light up the night by blinkin' your eyes

I'll cry and I'll cry if your light ever dies