#its angst night

[chloesimaginationthings]

What if Mike got the bad ending of the FNAF movie..

[hinamie]

Another blog noticed that Megumis scars are on the same position as Heian!Sukuna. And it's true! By that logic he should have scars under his armpits and on his belly (second arms and second mouth). You drawing it would be interesting

shoutout 2 megumi for making up fr all of yuuji's scars i no longer get to draw

[justaz]

arthur is immortal in the same way merlin is immortal, he can die but he bounces back after a while. merlin putting arthurs body on a boat and sending him out onto the lake but not burning him as he did to lancelot and freya. merlin disappearing off the face of the earth, unable to go back to camelot where every stone is carved with arthur's name, every room holds the faintest echo of his laughter, the shadows cast by the flickering flames of torches match each line and curve of arthur's body which merlin had memorized after years of dressing and undressing him, wandering and lingering hands that were just casual enough to pass off as platonic.

arthur crawling out of the lake the night after the morning merlin put him to rest, dazed, confused, and alive. arthur searches for merlin but can't find him. he's disappeared. gwen rules camelot as queen, she lifts the ban on magic, and rules fairly. arthur is content to leave his kingdom with her as he searches the land for merlin. he visits every place he and merlin every visited but he's nowhere to be found. time passes but arthur only grows more desperate. he's sure he's searched every inch of albion twice. no merlin.

enough time passes, everyone he's known has died and he looks exactly as he did when mordred drove his blade into his abdomen. arthur is forced to admit to himself that enough time has passed that merlin was bound to have died, leaving arthur all alone. immortal merlin is literally like chilling in ireland or some shit. but both immortal idiots are living in the same area and end up just missing each other. literally like end up holding the door to a coffee shop for one another but they don't meet each other's gazes bc they're busy mourning each other

[autisticlancemcclain]

fic rec friday 58

hello and welcome to fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

The Value of a Moment by @a-fools-errand

When Lance’s previously obsolete skills in language suddenly become very useful, he finds himself wondering why aliens can’t account for the fact that humans, particularly him, need sleep and would prefer linear timelines. (Or: an Arrival AU because I love that movie)

yall OBSESSED does not begin to cover it. i have never read a fic where lance was so goddamn cool. and in like. the insanest of ways?? like of course lance is a polyglot but THIS....this is a whole new level. i havent even finished it fully yet but like god this thing is so fucking cool. if ur looking for a longfic stop looking

2. Rest Stop by @flaming-potato-arsonarson

Lance wasn't like the rest of the world. And he had never had a loving mother tell him it made him stronger for it. So he told himself, gathering up his courage and grit to face a world of winged humanity, when he, in fact, has no wings and turns into a mermaid instead. A world that wants him to die. So he'd keep this secret like a knife in his boot, a sharp weapon until he died on his own terms. Not because of who he was. Except, Team Voltron isn't so sure why Lance is all rough edges and sharp points about showing off his wings. Or acting like a member of the Flock in general. It's clear he cares for them, but he's never shown an intimate part of him. Until he has to.

oh god this has gotta be one of my CLASSIC fics. read it a few dozen times. i read it right when it came out, six ish years ago (goddamn), i can remember curling up in my old bunk bad and eating this up as the hours ticked by. i was HOOKED. my jaw was dropped my eyes were glued. could not get enough. if youre looking for mermaid lance with a twist....brother this is it

3. Looking for Rain by @thewriter2

Like most things, it starts with the little things: his smile, his confidence, his talent. Eventually, all these little things add up to one big thing that threatens to crash over them like a heavy rain. But, maybe that wouldn't be a bad thing. Maybe something beautiful would come from it. A 5+1 (really a 10+1) of Lance and Keith falling in love.

oh god guys..... @thewriter2 knows how to fucking haunt you. if a 10+1 (!!) isnt enough for you, i want you to know this line has been echoing in my head since i first read: "He looks at you like you’re a storm and he’s a desert desperate to drown." UM??? EXCUSE ME???? SIMILE OF ALL TIME ACTUALLY???? keith being so so visibly obviously in love with lance is my actual roman empire shit never leaves my mind

4. Astronauts by @thewriter2

When they entered the Blue Lion, Keith was Lance’s rival--the person Lance was working so hard to surpass. But slowly, Lance found himself thinking of Keith less as a rival and more as something close to a friend. So of course, Lance’s traitor of a heart decided that it would be Lance’s kind of friend that it would fall in love with.

tags to sell you: "keith is a dork but lance loves him anyway" (dorky keith my beloved), "hunk is an a+ friend" (yes he is), "lance is a lovesick fool" (yeah), and "allura is older sister goals" yes yes YES you get it. and like....while keith pov is my favourite to write by far, lances pov as he realises he is in love....that will always hold such a special special place in my heart

5. his own worth by frogsterz

In the middle of the conversation, Lance stops talking and no one notices. It’s not like he had been leading the conversation, for he hadn’t been, but somehow the fact that his lack of input or opinion isn’t noticed tightens the grip loneliness has on his heart. He looks down at his food, his face burning, his throat tightening up.

now usually anything but team as family isnt my deal. im not big on classic langst. but keith as a knight in shining armour.....what can i say i am weak willed. deeply. also " It’s what made it worse. I miss home and I miss being held and the rain, and I loved you. I thought you hated me." got me so bad got me WEAK like i have never recovered from that line and i doubt i ever will

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!

[kaeyachi]

Kaeya had always been an efficient and hard-working individual (he had to be to support Diluc in the background as his brother rose thru the ranks after all).

He has so much free time because he completes all his work way ahead of schedule. And if he still has enough time, he adds more to the workload in secret.

And once all of that was done and over with, he makes time for everyone. He has to. He feels as if every moment has to be given to someone else.

No one knows how he does it. No one has to know.

Every mission has a dozen strategies in line, and every battle plan is made with efficiency in mind. His perfect record will not be tarnished. He can't risk it (even if it baffles others that he would willingly activate a ruin guard just to prevent a failed mission. Jean disagrees with his methods, but Kaeya can say that the results say otherwise)

He needs to be quick.

Efficient.

Perfect.

And so he comes and goes like the wind.

Kaeya values time because he knew every second counted. He can't just stand there as if he were frozen. Time could run out in an instant.

Kaeya had only been late once his entire life.

He'd rather he never be late ever again.

It took one day of being of being imperfect for everything to fall apart. On that tragic day...had he gotten there on time... then maybe...

.

.

.

" Come on, let's get moving, traveler. We're not frozen in place after all. " Kaeya teasingly says. He stiffles a giggle at the traveler's exhasperated sigh.

"Yeah yeah, we've heard enough of you calling us a slacker. Can't you be a bit more patient?" Paimon whines at him.

Kaeya snorts, but acquiesces, hiding the shaking of his hands at the thought of being idle.

He imagines hearing a clock ticking.

Kaeya knows that that is his own problem. He tries his hardest to relax as he waits for the traveler to finish whatever they're making on the alchemy table because, seriously, it is supposed to be a relaxing day. There's nothing major going on, and his schedule is once again empty as intended. What's the hurry?

Kaeya taps his foot on the ground as he waits. He wishes he could take his own damn advice when he tells others to relax.

[stuck-in-jelly]

Ever think about how Harrow had to not only go home to explain to his step son that his mother isn’t coming back but then also had to turn to the Kingdom of Duren only to return a ring to child still in a cradle

[beautifulterriblequeen]

Horrible new theory about Runaan's shirt today.

-no, not the new one, the one he lost-

He's still got his green assassin shirt here on the balcony, and vest too:

But by the time Gren is thrown into the dungeon a couple days later, it's missing.

Runaan's also sporting bags under his eyes because he'd been kept awake all night, enjoying Viren's frustrations about losing Harrow and also getting denied the crown of Katolis.

So. About that missing shirt.

I can't think of too many things worse for a guy who wears four shirts at once than to have them all taken off while he's badly hurt and manacled to the wall, and then be tickled half to death all night long, on his birthday.

[bitterseaproduction]

Angsty Bilbo dying Bagginshield art giving me another story idea~ 😂😭💕

But no, seriously? A play on the popular time travel fix-it, but one where Bilbo dies protecting Thorin during the Battle of Five Armies? And Thorin is inconsolable, I can’t even. And he might pull himself together long enough to stabilize Erebor, but there is No Way he can be a good ruler in his grief, so he has to pass it on. (I was going to say to Dain just to twist that knife a little harder, but actually there are reasons hinted below on why Fíli & Kíli must have lived.) And Thorin just… he wanders, probably. A shell of himself for the rest of his days.

And yet, when he inevitably passes away, he awakens on the road to the Shire. And he’s younger. And he’s so confused, quickly suspecting he must be dead and this is nothing like what he was taught to expect. But then his instant impulse to check Bag End has him walking in on that same meeting from so many years ago, his Company intact, the wizard smiling at him, introducing him to… to…

Bilbo. His Bilbo. The sight of him makes Thorin want to weep and hold him and never let go again, but he is instantly terrified to do anything, because is this a dream? Will he wake? What happens if he says something new, will ‘this’ be ruined somehow? He doesn’t want that, doesn’t want to change anything, save for the end. The very end.

But, even as he strives to mimic himself, he knows something is wrong. He’s off-script from the start purely due to his shock, but he tries to recover, get back on track, and within words, he’s managed it. The discussion is righting itself, and no one there could possibly know the difference, right?

And yet, Bilbo stares at him. From the instant Thorin walked in, Bilbo was staring, looking lost. As he had before, that first time, but it wasn’t the same. Bilbo had been confused then as well, but it had been a light, anxious uncertainty then. This time? He was frowning, his expression tense.

His eyes haunted.

Because Bilbo has also lived that night before. Just once as far as that night was concerned, but it was familiar to him. So familiar. That first night had haunted him for decades, to the very end of his long, long life, when he thought he might know rest, and perhaps — if he was truly as lucky as some once claimed — he might get to see his friends again. See Thorin again.

Instead he had slept, drifted away, and awoken to a battle about to start.

And he had questioned it, had stumbled that first time, but he adjusted. He tried to save Thorin. To save them all.

And he failed. Again.

Then, when he finally slept for the first time afterwards, he awoke to the battle starting again.

And again.

And he tried, over and over, day after the same horrid day to find a way to get through. And sometimes Thorin lived. Sometimes the princes did. Sometimes, new people died. The wrong people.

Once, in his darkest moments, he thought that perhaps someone was trying to teach him humility, teach him to accept fate as it was and not try to fight it, not change anything. And so he went through the motions as well as he could remember them after all those years, following them to the letter, save for when he sobbed all the harder when it was done.

He sobbed again, the relief bone-deep, when he awoke again the next day, the battle still awaiting him.

He lost count of his attempts, and no one could rightly vouch for his state of mind when he finally resorted to the one thing he had refused to try: Not since that fourth (or fifth?) time, when he managed to be there for the fight and threw himself in Azog’s way, but Thorin pulled him out of the way, and screamed at him with such outrage and fear and despair in the few beats he bought by pushing Azog over, that Bilbo never attempted it again.

Until that final day. And that time, Bilbo didn’t give Thorin a chance to stop him.

And it broke a heart Bilbo thought long since shattered to hear Thorin scream, to feel him pick him up and hold him close and hear his voice like that. But the words faded soon enough, and he couldn’t feel anything, nothing except for regret and acceptance, because this was different. He felt it. This time, he would not awaken again, and that was fine. He had saved his king, kept all of his dwarves safe that last time. If that was to be the last, then that was all he could ask for. It was alright. He could sleep.

Then he woke up.

Not outside Erebor, but inside a hole. His hole. Bag End.

He walked outside, stood in the sun, and watched a wizard walk up the road to his door.

He did not understand.

[ihearnocomplaints]

Longing is one of the most painful emotions, I think.

Rb >>>> like

(tags are vvvv appreciated and give me motivation)

Here’s everything I drew in the hour and a half-ish that I had.

[limblesstar]

cast away his wrath

NINE OF SWORDS: Being Unwanted is a Language, Fatima Aamer Bilal / Luminous Signals, Jan Erik Waider / Shells, png-magician / Sea Shell Mirror, saizun / 18th Century Italian Blue Celestial Geode Hearts, lionfloss / Blue PNGs, solarispngs / The Three Graces, cavalierfou / Slaughterhouse, Yves Olade / Time Is a Mother, Ocean Vuong / Red Minivan, Mike Krol / Pearls, seavirtual / Flowers, rizzes0-o / Hearts, Wherewolf / Rings, psykhet / png pack 22, colour-source / pressed flowers png, pngsforthepeople / 把手给我, DannyLaiLai / Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe, Benjamin Alire Sáenz / Warm Healer, Everything Everything / Honeysuckle, Pom Pom Squad / Waiting, Caitlyn Siehl /Rise and collapse of a wave, Michael Zeno Diemer / computers being in love, loveislove-so-kissacomputer

[miss-emmie]

Together with Twins

N x Uzi angst Comic kinda

This is Hella rushed if you can’t tell

Em is Yellow and Marv’s Magenta

Context: An AU where N and Uzi have once met their future kids after growing up and watched horrible things happen to them both, Uzi also has a fear of being a bad parent and accidentally hurting her kids

This hurt my brain my heart and my hands when this is literally a sketch comic. Oh well, Eat up mf’s

[lichilly]

“I had all and then most of you

Some and now none of you.

Take me back to the night we met.”

— The Night We Met by Lord Huron

cw implied death, angst, OWWW OWWWIE OWWW

The day starts as usual.

The sun rises, birds chirping as you push open the balcony door to let the morning air in. Joseph steps out, a cigarette already between his fingers. You join him, two mugs of coffee in your hands. He takes one from you with a grateful smile, you both settle into the routine.

The day is beautiful. The suns warm embrace on your skin makes you want to linger there forever, soaking in her rays.

“What d’ya want for breakfast?” he asks, smoke curling lazily from his lips.

You ponder for a moment, imagining the taste of different dishes. “How about…pancakes?” you suggest, feeling your mouth water at the thought.

Joseph chuckles, stubbing out his cigarette and taking a final gulp of his coffee. “Pancakes it is then.”

You eat breakfast together at the table. Joseph flips through his script between bites, humming under his breath and glancing at the clock occasionally. A quiet sigh escapes him as he polishes off his plate.

He rises, placing his dirtied plate on the sink, setting his empty mug on top. He walks over to you, gently pushing your hair back and kissing your forehead.

“I gotta go. I’ll see you later, okay?”

You hum, cheeks warming from the kiss. “I’ll pick up stuff to make your favorite for dinner tonight. I know we haven’t had it in a while.”

His eyes light up, “Sounds like a plan.”

He heads towards the entryway, grabbing his jacket. He looks back at you, a smile still lingering on his lips.

“Don’t worry, filming shouldn’t take long today. I’ll be home before you know it.”

The butterflies in your stomach flutter with his words.

“Okay, I’ll see you later,” you reply, eyes droopy with morning grogginess and love.

The door clicks shut behind him, you watch a moment longer. Your eyes trace over the knob, down the mysterious crack in the wood, and watch his shadowy steps fade away. A sudden uneasiness creeps in, filling your gut with a syrupy ache. The butterflies no longer flutter, their wings cut, leaving you with a heavy feeling in their place.

You try to shake it off, but the feeling lingers, the knot in your stomach tightening with each tick of the clock. Hour after hour, minute after minute, you try to distract yourself with meaningless chores. You go grab things for dinner, the hustle and bustle of the store creating a dull hum over the pit in your stomach. A weak balm that doesn’t last the second you step through the apartment door again.

Night falls, groceries left forgotten on the counter. Seconds tick by painfully slow, each one a reminder of his absence. You can’t shake the feeling that something is terribly wrong.

Joseph doesn’t return that night, or any night after that.

[justaz]

oh fuck merlin following after arthur for five seasons, at his heel following him into every battle, every fight, every quest without regard for his own safety. arthur dying on the shore of that damn lake and merlin dying with him but his body remains. arthur goes to avalon and merlin is forced to stay on earth. merlin can’t follow arthur this time. this is one journey merlin and arthur can’t take together. two halves split and kept apart for over fifteen hundred years. goddamn it. these fucking assholes never fail to make me cry. i hate them i hate them i hate them i hate them

[clowningcrows]

there may actually be an anderperry one shot coming up soon yall....

[easy-revenge]

do you guys ever think about how gojo probably spent 10 years of missions hoping to never bump into any of geto's shenanigans bc he knew he'd have to kill him if he did? about how he missed him sm but probably wished they never met again bc he knew he wouldn't let himself get away with letting geto go twice?

[cherry-flavoured-thot]

There's a nagging whisper. It's soft and quiet. Faint and oh so faraway. Lucifer tries to get closer, to listen, to finally understand what it is this distant voice is trying to say to him, only to never reach it. It's irritating. Almost as irritating as the fact it only seems to slink its way back, whenever you seem to be near him. You aren't special.

With the exception of being Solomon's apprentice, you have no notable achievements. No notable presence here, in your 'supposed' home, the Devildom. And despite the prince, claiming he's never met you before, the mere idea that Diavolo somehow feels as though he can trust a lowly demon as yourself bothers Lucifer to no end.

You are bothersome. You are a mystery that seems near impossible to unravel. You know something and whatever it is, he's certain Solomon knows too. But some part of him. Some strange, lost and disconnected part of him, doesn't feel the need to worry. No, it feels the strangest reassurance that you would never do anything malicious.

He rejects the notion with all of his being. He'll ignore the unusual sense of comfort that leaving you with his brother's gives him; dismiss how part of him knew you'd be able to make them all happier; outright deny how when you look at him, some strange part of him thinks he can breathe easy.

That for a second. Just a second. In this unfamiliar place, there's something so familiar, about this demon attendant that no one seems to recognize or know anything about. That maybe, in this odd familiarity in you, he might find solace. That even though he's just met you, that some part of him has known you a lifetime.

Much like the whispers, these feelings are beyond his ability to decipher, and again leave him with a distinct irritation as he swallows them down to the depths of his subconscious.

And yet part of him still wonders why when you smile at him, a simple gesture that shouldn't mean anything in a place where so many have their own agenda. There's a faint warmth that feels like it belongs in his chest.