#one of these is very howard weinerman coded and then some but shhh

[destiny-in-the-universe]

let's talk angst

i keep thinking about causing harm on my main muses- major character injury, disorientation, near-death experience, doomed by the narrative- anything and all of it

give me a muse who is on the brink of death on the battlefield (blood spills from the wound, they grit their teeth; hand pressed to their side before groaning, struggling to move-). give me the muse who attempts to stand back up, their body protesting as they can't give in now. their team needs them, they can't afford to lose the war (they have to keep going-). there is something in their eyes, screaming this can't be the end

give me the muse who is captured by the enemy- (they bare their teeth, wild and primal, as they glare defiantly at their captors; their spirit could never be broken, they won't go down without a fight). give me a muse who refuses to be seen as weak, they won't be damaged goods. they defiantly glare at their captor, declaring someone will come and they will get out of this. give me the muse who refuses to cry and beg even in the face of torture and torment, give me the muse who screams but even then they grin- blood coating their teeth- "is that the best you've got?"

give me the muse who is determined to hold strong until the very end; even a proud and strong warrior might not hold on against the feeling cracking against their back. water drips down their hair, and blood stains the pavement as they struggle (the enemy smiles, gripping them by the chin as they coo, "no one is coming to save you, my dear"-). give me a muse who wants to hold on before their will crumbles and they break (they whimper, a choked cry leaving their lips as the light finally begins to fade from their eyes-)

give me the muse who refuses to cry; give me the muse who acts like nothing has changed- they won't break over anything, they're fine (they've always been okay- they have to be or everything will fall apart; no one else can see them like this because how would they see them then? they can't even see themselves like this, it's just too much to bear). they suck it up, putting on a grimace- or school their face into neutrality, and speak- "chin up, you can get through another day" to their friends and offer the comfort when it's needed (some might just scoff, "you can't get through life wallowing in your own self misery. get up and keep going.") eventually something in them snaps- something in them severs and it's like they're falling, and the dam breaks-

give me the muses who've come back wrong, they aren't human anymore. they are something else (something other); they are the product of war, soldiers who know nothing else. give me the muses who have lost everything- give me the muses who reach their limit and are willing to let death's door claim them

give me the muses who are already walking into the flames, knowing nothing else but their own self desutrction

(is that you in the mirror? is it truly you- things were much simpler back then, weren't they? you had a dream back then, hopes and goals you thought would you were bright-eyed and then it was taken from you- who are you, really?)

give me the broken, the deserted, the quiet. the older siblings made parents too soon, too young- give me anyone who just needs to find their path again (and those who are forever bound by their actions, the factors around them-)

give me the fallen warriors