#maybe hurt comfort? probably not

[floralembarrassment]

Hi! I love your fics so much they always make my day better <3

I was just wondering if you could write an angsty/Sad Rosekiller fic? Idk why I'm just in the mood to feel pain and i love your writing so yeah :)

Hi you very kind human! I'm glad you find some joy here! What's fun request that made me hurt my own feelings so I hope it hits your pain fancy - as always requests and asks are the best! with love

Burning Desire (1/3) (rosekiller)

The thing with Evan and Barty is that everyone knew they were supposed to be together except them. They were both too stubborn, a bit too dim, and honestly too desperate for one another that neither of them had a clue the other had been pinning for years.

But how was Evan supposed to know? Barty was out flirting with everyone. He was with a different girl to in Hogsmead each weekend, and dancing with a different Slytherin boy every other, and kissing his friends just for fun. When Evan figured out he was ace he nearly threw in the towel, except his heart couldn't let go.

When Evan had both worked up the courage and had had enough, he wrote everything he wanted to tell Barty, planning to burn the note before he spoke to him in person. But as he wrote his heart out he realized that losing his friendship with Barty was actually worse than not telling him about this stupid little crush. Evan crumbled up the note and decided he once and for all needed to get over himself.

Evan went to grab his wand he had thrown on the bed as Barty walked into the dorm. He jumped and quickly set the parchment on fire, and Barty looked at him with a quizzical smirk.

"What are you hiding Rosier? Starting a diary like Regulus are we?" He chided.

In that moment Evan was hurt, especially because he had just decided that he would never be enough for Barty and at least being his friend, being able to be near him would have to be enough. And while he wasn't writing a diary, he did push his emotions down like Regulus and lash out instead.

"How about you mind your fucking business Crouch. You clearly wouldn't know a thing about privacy, seeing as you were basically practicing to be an exhibitionist in the common room with that 7th year," Evan sneered. It was meaner than their usual banter, and Evan knew Barty heard the nastiness in the tone.

Barty threw him a stinging hex, but Evan blocked it with ease: "oh screw off, you're just jealous because you haven't done so much as hold hands with someone since 4th year." Barty hit back.

"Jealous? You think I'm jealous? I don't want anyone you've been with," Evan scoffed, his cheeks flushed, betraying him though. He wasn't jealous about what sexual things Barty did, but he was jealous of those who held him closer...

What Evan didn't know was that Barty was only trying to get over his long lust for Evan. Evan never once reciprocated his flirtations, even when he was crudely foreword. How was Barty supposed to know why Evan was really jealous. Barty wanted to offer to help Evan find someone, but he never could bring himself to it, always thankful that Evan would decline because Barty wasn't sure he could handle seeing Evan with anyone else.

"Well clearly you are hiding something," is all Barty ended up replying. "I'll just forget it okay?" He finished and Evan sighed, just looking down at his shoes.

Barty stepped forward, reaching out like he normally would to pull Evan into a hug, but Evan jolted back. Barty looked at him surprised, they always hugged to make up after they snapped at it each other.

"I... I gotta go," Evan said and he nearly ran out of the room.

Barty stood for a moment confused and concerned. Clearly something was going on with Evan. He moved to his desk to fix it up and see if his herbology homework needed to be done, maybe help cheer him up. But he noticed that the first page of the homework was missing and the second page was singed. Did Evan burn his homework? Barty thought, but then he looked around him and saw the crumpled up piece of paper that must be the first page. When Barty picked it up though, he froze.

[nightmarearian]

blood dripped from Poseidon's mouth, red.

red.

the day they overthrew Kronos, child-eater (stomach acid crawling around them, after maw of teeth grazing his small, child body), his golden ichor bled red.

god blood, degraded into a mortal's.

the day Typhon, father of monsters (as big as their father was, as big as the Titans with sharp claws and teeth) ripped out Zeus' tendons, his blood was red.

Poseidon, god of the tides, son of Kronos, looked up at the dark shape stood above him, his own golden trident in his hand, the teeth like prongs drenched in red.

Odysseus is a mortal. was a human.

sharp webbed ears spread out on the side of their head, scales grew around their neck and arms, shining like a coral reef, illuminated by their growing red eyes, that were shrunken to slits.

Odysseus' teeth glinted in the lightning, showing their unnaturally sharp point.

monster.

[seventh-district]

Sam: "Look at me. Hey- look at me a second. I know. I know you're tough. I know how strong you are. You have every right to be proud of that. But being able to handle somethin' doesn't mean you should have to. Least of all when I'm right here trying to help. Please let me help. If not for you then for me, because I don't like knowin' you're hurtin', especially when there's somethin' I can do about it."

Me, shaking my head, fighting back literal tears: "B-but it's gonna give you another headache!"

[jamtartandsunshine]

It starts small, inconsequential really. But Roy, he knows the signs, this isn't his first rodeo, as Ted would say. That thought makes him curse beneath his breath. Sounds like something fucking Lasso would say. It makes Roy's blood boil a little. He hates that the fucking cowboy coach has gotten into his head. But the point is, Roy notices. It's small but its there. Roy notices the way Jamie tips back the protein shaker, as he stands in the locker room laughing with the boys, but the liquid inside doesn't actually seem to go down. He notices the way Jamie's hands sometimes tremble as he picks up his water bottle in the gym. Having pushed himself harder then any of the rest of them. He notices the way Jamie jots down notes in a little pocket notebook at lunch. Roy doesn't see what's in it, but he'd bet his championship trophy its that stats of whatever Jamie's eating at lunch. Its not new. Everyone has macros to track, protein goals to reach. Carefully controlled carb intakes, but there's a darkness to Jamie's eyes as he scribbles hastily in his little notebook. Roy knows that look, and a part of him wants to look away, pretend he didn't see it, pretend he doesn't know the signs for what they are. He looks around the room, everyone is eating and laughing, they don't see what Roy is seeing. Most of them barely even spare Jamie a glance. Fuck. Fucking fuckity fuck it. It has to be Roy, it can't be anyone fucking else.

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

when I want to write something self indulgent to give me all the angsty and cuddly hurt/comfort feels but I can't because I end up feeling guilty because I'm seeking after feels that I feel in an inappropriate place because my mom told me one time when I was 15 that I shouldn't search that out or it's probably sexual sin but it confuses me because ALL the feels happen that way for me even if it's entirely platonic and nonsexual and so I don't know if it's okay to want to write to that because apparently all pleasure of any sort, even over platonic stories, is sexual or comes with a possibly probably sexual feeling and I also am having a hard time figuring out what's genuine conviction from God and what's just my anxiety/OCD/perfectionism/fear of failure

[missmiseryguts]

DROP THE MU REACTION TO "THE SOLUTION" (that was the name of the hood storybook right my memory is ass GSGSGSGS) /NF

I think she had fun with it (she sobbed until she had no more tears to shed her poor doomed gf)

The aftermath ofc ofc crushing her girlfriend to death in a hug (I still can't draw hugs but idk...)

[henrybelly]

honestly when i tried to figure out why some fans are so mad at ivypool these days i was looking through avos and. the scene where ivypool apologises to twigpaw for not supporting sending a patrol for skyclan is genuinely very sweet??

i actually saw someone characterize this as "ivypool forcing twigpaw to forgive her". is it crack you smoke. is that what you smoke. you smoke crack?

[cassiaratheslytherpuff]

Prongsfoot Week 2024 day 3

Favorite Canon/Potentially Canon moment - IE, something like Sirius comforting James after the DADA OWL and Lily’s reaction or (even though it’s platonic) the moment James asked Sirius to be Harry’s godfather.  

I think, because I am a sucker for angst, it might be Sirius's best man speech at the wedding. This all falls under potentially canon, heavy on the potentially. But I imagine Sirius was in love with James, and James loved Sirius. Because there's just no world where they don't love each other. It's just that James loved Lily too, and in the 70s/80s one of them was a more acceptable choice than the other. And it never really hit him that what he was doing with Sirius wasn't exactly fitting within the box of 'best friends'. He just loved Sirius, and that would always be true. And then his parents got sick and wanted to see him happy before they died, and James wanted to have them there for as much as possible, and he'd never questioned what his future would be and he didn't then either. He'd always known he'd marry a beautiful woman and have children to run around the house with their toy wands. And he did love Lily.

Sirius loved James in every way someone can love someone else. So it wasn't even a choice for him; if he didn't get to have James romantically he would take the pain of that rather than give up all the rest of it. He didn't tell James he would never love someone else. He didn't tell James he was in love in the first place. Instead, he encouraged James to go after Lily. Because Sirius loved James in every way someone can love someone else, and more than anything he wanted James to be safe and happy out in the sunshine. And he could only ever have the shadows with Sirius. Something hidden and shameful and illegal. And they could be best friends. Sirius loved him like that too, and it could be enough. Only, as one does, James's speech at the wedding was all about how lucky he was to be marrying his best friend and when Sirius stood up to speak not long after he could only hope everyone would believe the tears were just nostalgia and happiness for his friend.

I imagine he stood up and looked down at the man he loved, and the wife that Sirius had grown to care for. I imagine he wished them well, and meant it with his whole heart. I imagine he told stories about James asking Lily out and being turned down, about how James grew up and they actually got to know one another. I imagine he spoke about James's nerves before the first date, and didn't mention that Sirius sucked him off to soothe them. I imagine he didn't say how that was the last time they ever did anything like it, that he didn't say how much he wished the world was different and he could be the one in white. I imagine there wasn't a dry eye in the room, I imagine Sirius sighed with relief that they were all smiling too. I imagine he looked at Lily and asked her to take care of James for him. And I imagine if he'd looked at James he would have seen the heartbreak as he realised Sirius loved him in every way a person can love someone else, which James hadn't known until that very moment was even an option.

[modern-alebrije]

i feel like growing up my family always encouraged us to be independent and self-reliant. so i don't understand why they seem upset at the fact now that i'm an adult who's self-reliant and lives independently

[skyloftian-nutcase]

The Caregiver (LU Twilight Ficlet)

Dusk usually soured Twilight's mood, but today it was the rain. Or the walking. Or the constant fighting they'd been doing recently. He wasn't sure. Maybe it was none of those things.

Some days just weren't good days.

After the chores were done, Twilight offered to do a perimeter check and disappeared into the forest, shifting into his wolf form. He felt... different when he was like this. He supposed it was a stupid observation to make, saying one felt different when one was a wolf. Of course that would feel different.

But it was more than just the physicality of it. Like this, he was considered a monster. Like this, he was considered a sweet friend. Like this, he wasn't expected any heroic duties. Like this, people were afraid of him. Like this, he could just be with animals and nature. Like this, he could be left alone.

Like this, he couldn't cry.

Today just wasn't a good day. Anxieties and worries filled him, words biting into his mind like beasts tearing his sanity apart. Things that would usually be a quick observation that he would swat away suddenly returned with reinforcements, ready to trample him into the dust.

Four hated shadow magic, and Twilight used it extensively.

Time was happily married, Sky was head over heels in love with someone who probably loved him just as much, and Twilight was alone.

Wild could have breakdowns because everyone understood that he was a mess, and Twilight had to be the strong one for him even if he felt like he was going to fall apart.

Warriors had so many reasons to be a broken mess yet he wasn't, and Twilight had so few reasons yet he was.

Hyrule and Legend had no families, and Twilight had one that adored him yet he treated them poorly, he was never around anymore for them.

Wind had seen too much at his age but still had hope, and Twilight had a peaceful wonderful childhood and was filled with nothing.

Sometimes... sometimes Twilight just wanted it to end. Sometimes he wished he could sleep as well and as long as Sky seemed to, and sometimes he was so insane with energy and had nothing to do with it.

Four would hate him if he knew. Wild would never rely on him if he saw how Twilight hurt too, he wouldn't want to burden the Ordonian with his problems. Sky and Time would offer sympathetic words or touches but that didn't change the hollowness inside him. Warriors would tease and try to perk him up, and it would only emphasize how much better the captain was. Hyrule, Legend, and Wind would offer their support in their own ways, and it would highlight Twilight's pathetic state of mind even more.

Who else would hate him, he wondered. Would it just be Four? Hyrule might hate him, with as much magical energy as he has about him, shadow magic probably felt like a disease to him. If he showed his true nature, revealed all his secrets, his thoughts, his desires, his beliefs, his feelings... who else would hate him?

Who would be disappointed in him?

A choking sound emitted form his throat, making his chest burn. He couldn't cry as a wolf, but it would still try to escape.

Just let it out. No one's here.

Twilight shifted back into Hylian form and collapsed into a pile of leaves. The tears came in waves, racking his body with violent tremors and muffled sobs before leaving him drained and exhausted, and then it would start anew. He felt like his heart and mind were screaming at each other, his heart taking him and shaking him to his core until he was depleted while his mind told him to get over it.

Others have it worse. I need to take care of them. I have no excuse to feel like this. So what if they hate me for who I am, for what I think and believe, I can help them and support them until we get to that point. They don't have to know who I really am. And if they find out, then...

Then what? What would he do when he was an outcast to some of his brothers? If he couldn't support the others because they were afraid to bother him? He wasn't foolish with his emotionalism, he knew he wasn't going to be thrown out or anything, but... but he imagined he would be shunned. The bitter cold stabbed him from the inside out, making the tears spring fresh as if he hadn't cried four times already.

This was so stupid. He knew better than to let this upset him.

But today just wasn't a good day.

So much time passed the sun had completely faded behind the horizon. Twilight shivered as the damp cool air of night settled into his skin. It chilled the hot tears that stained his cheeks and slammed reality into his soul like a slap to the face.

Twilight took a deep breath, wiped his face clean, and rose.

Perhaps I will be an outcast if they find out. Perhaps some of them will hate me, and some will pity me to the point of exclusion. So they don't have to find out. I can support them as I am, with everything as it is. I can help them and be there for them, offer what little assistance I can provide.

They don't have to know who I am.

Twilight took another breath, steadying himself. He just wanted to help. The camaraderie meant the world to him, but he could live without it if need be. He just wanted to help. He could help - he knew Time's fate and could maybe alter it. He saw Wild's pain and had his trust, so he could help him through his trauma. Wolfie saw more than anyone, and Twilight could soothe the hurts the others held close to their hearts.

Twilight took a third breath, and felt whole again. Because this wasn't about him. It was about his family.

He went back to camp, and smiled when everyone greeted him.

Time watched him a little too long, eye discerning. "Everything all right?"

Twilight waved a dismissive hand as he walked to Wild, settling beside his little brother. "Of course."

[paperglader]

sometimes i'm living my life and sometimes i'm hit by the fact that c3 has become so intwined with my very being and in a way it's probably because of how it feels like it has been fully mirroring my journey since the moment i started watching- specifically with the imodna's- in the sense that i feel like i went through a period of so much healing and a bit of hardships, and then this year has been really hard, till it came to a tipping point maybe like a little less than a month from now and now the imodna's are like broken up and doing really bad and i'm like. i.want.to.sob.all.the.damn.time.about.it. but also, do i really want to sob that hard about it or am i just sad cause of life? and the answer is sort of, both, cause sometimes i just want fiction to be okay when real life isn't. Like, yeah, i've been rewatching early campaign with my roommate, and there was so much healing there along with the pain, but now it just feels so sad and broken (which, truly is ok). it's not like, doomed sad, but sad in the "shit. why did it get this level of fucked up?" kinda sad and like, i really really really really want a soft epilogue for the sad little lesbians, but also i very much want a soft epilogue for myself (also a sad little lesbian)

[y-rhywbeth2]

I'm curious if Durge's bad ending is, assumedly, becoming soulless like Imoen in Baldur's Gate 2 and becoming feral, would there be any way to save them from their situation after the fact? (of this is a dumb question, I apologize ❤️ I just love your blog.)

Seems slightly more soulless Charname than Imoen, what with Bhaal giving you personal attention and trying to turn you into his mindless vessel.

I'm not sure about saving them - but this is D&D, so probably. In BG2 the cure was getting your soul back (your other two potential fates were horrible wasting death, having your mind consumed by Bhaal - that was it). This doesn't apply to Durge, though, as they didn't lose a soul. They do have one, or at least the start of one, because Jergal might spot it in epilogue dialogue, but unlike in the rejection ending he doesn't cut it loose from Bhaal.

As Withers is aware of the deaths of all beings, and is almost certainly aware of Bhaal puppeteering his spawn around the corner plotting murder, I chose to believe that the party is also a trap meant for Durge. Whether the intention is to destroy them, or lock them away so that Bhaal can't use them, or to somehow extract Bhaal from Durge... who knows, but sometimes I like to imagine it might be the latter, and Durge gets support and a million years of therapy.

[yueebby]

Any possibility of that mean gojo angst fic leaving the google doc my good sir🫡

only if the people want to read it 🫡

[gierosajie]

Thinking about how there's a lot more ghosts wandering Mondstadt in the Archon Dvalin AU than usual because Venti is usually the one sending off spirits into the afterlife and well. he's kinda stuck on that side post-Cataclysm

At first there weren't any because they just followed Venti, but afterwards there were some that still lingered and the number just kept piling up over the centuries. Many did eventually go on their own, but there's just more that didn't want to or simply couldn't

Dvalin doesn't know how to send them off, no one really showed him how and he doubts that even if he knew, he probably couldn't. Still, whenever a spirit decides to show themself, he stays with them for a bit, just to alleviate their burdens even a little and maybe help them find enough peace

It's probably another thing that eats at him alive because he couldn't even help those that he failed to protect, no matter how much most of them say it isn't his fault

And then, after the whole reconciliation with Celio thing, one of the lingering spirits asks him for a song. Before, he might've gently turned down the request, but after everything, he decided he might as well

Dvalin starts singing an old song he loved. Singing it had been painful, once, considering it was made as a duet and having to listen to the silent answer just brought him nothing but grief. Now, there's a sort of peace to how the breeze and the sound of nature fill in the gaps and pauses.

Over the course of the song, more and more ghosts come to listen. By the end of it, Dvalin opens his eyes to see most of them disappear, not in terms of hiding away like usual but rather beginning to dissolve into light as they finally move on

The last one to leave was the one who requested a song. She turns to smile at him. "I suppose I can finally tell that bard how much you've grown," she says before finally dissipating into the wind

[feroluce]

Hello!! I came here because I was informed you had some Wriowinne headcanons and ramblings to share? Would it be alright for me to ask for some 👉👈 (or as much as you want to share please I'm desperate for food)

OH BOY DO I.

I feel you anon, I've been shipping them like...since the PV. So I've been stuck in utter absolute hell, getting nothing but father&daughter content from the fandom (shoutout to @hydrachea for being able to dual wield and letting me talk ship to her, light of my life fr weh). I'm hoping now that 4.1 has been out for a little bit, we'll get some more of them, though. I've dug through our dms, and found a hc that takes place after 4.1. So spoilers for that archon quest, but no leaks are involved!

Anyway, I love thinking about how close they cut it at the climax of 4.1, and the aftermath of it all.

Sigewinne somehow finding out what happened down there at the bottom of Meropide while she was evacuating the inmates, and like. She knows what the stakes were. The Primordial Seawater could not be allowed to rise. Clorinde made the right decision in shooting the gate lock. Even if it had killed Wriothesley, it still would have been the right decision.

That doesn't mean it's not a bitter pill to swallow.

Sigewinne can usually put it out of mind during the day, especially when she's busy treating patients, but it's harder when she's asleep. She dreams of the evacuation, and the alarm blaring, and waiting and waiting and waiting, and Clorinde walking past, alone, with her head down and her fists shaking, until Neuvilette finally approaches. Wriothesley isn't with him.

And Neuvilette's face doesn't really show much. It never does. But Sigewinne is close enough to the surface that she can hear the absolute downpour raging outside as Neuvilette tells her that he's sorry, he's so so sorry, and he gives her a gray and black and red coat, so soaked through with Primordial Seawater that he'd been afraid to let anyone else touch it, and the fur collar is matted and wet against Sigewinne's face when she clutches it close-

Sigewinne jolts awake, grasping at whatever is in her reach, which just happens to include Wriothesley's arm. His eyes almost immediately fly open, slurring out a mix of what's goin' on and what's wrong, and then a do we need to evacuate and poor Sigewinne, she feels awful. He hasn't been sleeping as well since the almost-flood, every little sound wakes him up now.

(There are nights where she'll wake up alone, and if she goes looking, she'll find Wriothesley, still in his sleep clothes and looking exhausted, down under their secret passage and staring at Neuvilette's seal over the sluice gate. Like he's keeping watch over it, or just daring it to try and do something.

Whenever she finds him like this, Sigewinne tells him to come on, come back to bed, and he'll keep his eye on it until the last possible second, but generally Wriothesley comes when called, and he'll let her lead him away. On his worse nights, he'll tell her to go back without him, he can't sleep anyway, he's going to stay down here for just a little while longer. He'll be back later. And she does occasionally go back to bed, but most of the time she stays, because she doesn't like the idea of him alone down there. Sigewinne will tuck herself into his side, or she'll get him to relax his guard just enough to lay with his head in her lap, and they'll stay there like that until Wriothesley finally decides he can bear to leave it alone and go back to bed with her.)

So with all that in mind, when she accidentally wakes him up, Sigewinne quickly gets her breathing back under control and pets his hair until he relaxes again. She tells him it's fine, everything is ok. Meropide is safe. Their home and everyone in it is safe. Go back to sleep. He needs his rest if he's going to go up to the overworld for supplies in the morning. She'll go sleep in the infirmary, she just had a nightmare, is all (the truth), it was nothing, she barely even remembers it anymore (a lie).

Sigewinne doesn't even make it out of bed, though, because when she tries to go, she finds her wrist suddenly caught. She turns back and Wriothesley is squinting up at her face, human night vision isn't nearly as good as a Mélusine's. They sit there like that for a moment, until she can see through the expression on his face that he's come to some sort of decision. Wriothesley pulls her back in and Sigewinne lets him, lets him rearrange them into something more comfortable. It's easy to give up when it's him, she didn't truly want to leave anyway. By the time he makes a satisfied little huff into her hair, Sigewinne is tucked under his chin, her face against his chest, one arm wrapped around her to keep her there. She pats his side and tells him ok, ok, she gets it. She won't go anywhere.

Wriothesley buries his face in her hair and sighs at that, something deeper and more content that hilariously reminds Sigewinne of a dog asleep on the floor. "Good." Wriothesley sounds like he's already half-asleep again. His arm still tightens around her waist though, just to make a point. "How could I sleep, when I know you're off somewhere crying alone?"

Sigewinne touches her cheek, and sure enough, it's wet? She has tear tracks. No wonder Wriothesley had been staring at her so hard. She hadn't even realized. And she opens her mouth to protest because she wasn't crying, some tears in her sleep doesn't count, but. Wriothesley is already asleep again, breathing slow and deep and even, and his arm is heavy and warm around her, and his sleep shirt is soft and comfortable against her face, not at all like the fur-collared coat in her dreams.

Sigewinne gives in again, curls into all that warmth and wraps herself up in it, until it lulls her back to sleep.