#so much missing angst

[rubra-wav]

Let's go one-sided Radiostatic / Radiosilence rant

Ended up writing a fic abt this 🙏

Okay, as much as I love the whole 'Vox screwed up the entire friendship with Alastor by confessing and Al just left without a second thought and haha funny Vox is a sad wet cat of a simp' stuff I really think there's a lot of potential being missed out on there.

Like I don't think Alastor would have just coldly left and detached completely - at least not at first.

I wanna see Alastor realising that he had gotten SO close to Vox that Vox had fallen in love with him and him being mortified that he'd allowed himself to get that close to someone + allowed someone else to get that close to him.

I want Alastor struggling and horrified because when radiosilence echoed, he was also caught in it, feeling the loss of a good friend even if he was repulsed by Vox's feelings for him.

So much of it is just how Vox reacted, and as much as I love that, I ALSO wanna see how ALASTOR reacted for once. And not the 'haha, whatever' surface level thing (although I do definitely think that is how he certainly would play it off), him dealing with the loss behind that facquade.

I genuinely refuse to believe that there was nothing there that ached for bro, Alastor may be a psychopathic trait coded nutjob, but they still can form attachment and shit like that despite it (even if it's different to typical attachment).

Also, people refuse to focus on Alastor's obsession with Vox back. Like, I'm sure his ass would be gutted if Vox lost his obsession with him or acted completely cool and uncaring.

He's just as obsessed with Vox as he is with him, and I refuse to believe otherwise 💀

[lotus-pear]

mourning black and the death of ideals

[factual-fantasy]

[zu-is-here]

I missed you, too

Murder & Phantom!Papyrus by ask-dusttale

Underswap Sans by popcornpr1nce

Nightmare by jokublog

Horror from horrortalecomic by sour-apple-studios

Killer by rahafwabas / rahaf-wabas / rahofy-sketch

[horrorsboyfrie]

Loser!Zandik being crushed on by Popular!Reader

(masc terms on reader+ it's the typical corny social butterfly × weirdo shit, queer edition, honestly + Zandik displays traits of autism + a little murderous♡)

Zandik, as per usual, was spending the night's time in the library. It was quiet, for the most part. While a lot of his fellow peers were focused on finding answers for their own satisfaction, even those who viewed their values and research to be above everyone else's had someone to keep them company; for that reason, they often chose to borrow the necessary books and study in their respective dorms, or the dorms of their friends. Some did indeed prefer the setup of the library's sections and desks, but even so, the peaceful atmosphere was not interrupted by them.

Zandik sat on a table at the very ends of the room. He had a pile of books to his right; some half opened, and others neatly stack on top of each other. He had his notebook and pens nearby, taking notes of anything he deemed crucial knowledge for his personal projects.

Not long had he been entangled in his theories when a specific group of students decided to make an appearance. They could be heard from miles away— and it just so happened that they chose to sit on a table to his right. Malicious intent, no doubt. These people tended to act as if Zandik was some foreign species to be studied; as if he was a sort of a subject that needed constant supervision.

Of any day to endure the constant speculations and disgusted or concerned expressions towards him, today was not the right one. Nothing too horrific had happened to him, not something that would matter to an average person, at least. It's just that he slept wrong, causing him to wake up with slight neck pain, which played a role in worsening his already short temper, which in turn made his sensory issues towards his clothes, especially his socks, far more insufferable than they had to be. He was one unexpected move away from having a meltdown.

Yet again, he managed to ignore the obnoxiously loud 《whispers》 that sprouted out of those filthy rat-filled mouths of theirs, as Zandik's already-overwhelmed mind decided to call them.

Unfortunately for him, the multiple different voices started chanting even more nonsense as you walked towards the table— he could see that you were dreading it. Was everyone so damn bothered by his existence? You were known to be such a sweetheart— contrast to majority of boys there— by those who've interacted with you, but to be fair, none had a reputation quite like Zandik's, so it's no wonder you resented him, as everyone else did.

"Why'd we have to sit here?" he heard you emphasize. He looked your way; he could see the grins on the faces of your friends, the way they seemed to be picking on someone, hushed whispers, mentioning his name time after time, as if he wasn't barely three chairs away. Gods, his patience was running thin.

"Can we just switch seats?" He listened as you practically begged your friend, who was sitting on the complete opposite end of the table. As much as he may have claimed (to himself, seeing as he had none to actually confide in) not be a man driven by emotion, his worse sensory days were tempt to be a catastrophe in every way possible. He left soon after he heard those mumbles; he was too sensitive for his own good, even if he dismissed that fragile soul of his with walls of anger and apathy.

Your friends seemed to notice before you, the fact that he was no longer in the room. All you got was endless teasing about how you've missed your chance or about the fact that you probably 《intimidated》 him. Bullshit, no? You sighed as the group split up again, each going ahead to do their own thing. The only true reason they decided to meet up here was to force you into talking to him. That did not quite work out, it seems.

You hurried to leave as well, when you noticed a small pen on the ground. That must be his; you always see him writing with that specific shade of blue. It's not like nobody else in the whole Akademiya owned the same one, but he was sitting on the table you found it under. You decided to hold on to it. Perhaps it would be an opportunity to finally have a conversation with the guy!

On your way back to the dorms, you noticed him nearing his own room. Maybe now's the time to return him his belongings— especially considering how he seemed to be searching his pockets. His face was indifferent when he realized he didn't have the pen on him, but his hands were trermbling; a hint of anxiety perhaps? One could only speculate. You decided to leave him on his own. He probably wasn't up for company or conversation anyway.

The following few days weren't quite like you expected. Usually, you'd manage to get at least a glance your way by him; laughing at stupid jokes, bumping into people or objects that you could have easily avoided, accidentally saying things a bit too loud. Nothing worked this time. It's as if he purposefully was avoiding you; a fact that got confirmed after you tried walking towards him. He saw you—he made sure you saw his look, he held it for a couple of seconds— and then he walked away. Fuck, there's no way this guy wants anything to do with you.

Weeks later, you had grown to forget ever owning that pen of his; actually, you started using it for yourself. If you can't give it back, then why not use it for yourself?

Zandik, despite trying his hardest to keep his stares away from you and your friends (and pretty much everyone else in that damned building), couldn't help but notice that his long-gone favorite pen is under your possession.

After the very last class of the day, he decided to give you a visit; your fate had been decided by him already. He's done what he's done in the Eleazar hospital and got away with it. It wouldn't be hard to add another body into the endless pile of disappearances; he knew how to keep suspicion off his shoulders.

Perhaps it was a bit too far. He was letting his rage get the better of him; but gods, he really hadn't felt at ease writing with anything else. "His death would make no logical sense to my goals," he sighed as he reminded himself. "What sort of researcher puts his emotions above his values?" He groaned— frustrated both at himself for considering such a solution to his problems, and at the situation itself.

Times like these, he'd go to his special place to sit and think; it was a big tree, near a lake. Children would often talk about their encounters with the Aranara there. At first, he only ever visited that place so he could find one creature and take it for himself, but he grew quite comfortable being there.

He grabbed the opportunity by its hand once he spotted you all alone; sitting with your back against that very same tree that he favored. As if you had a seventh sense, you turned around to see him. He wasn't quite prepared to be greeted with a smile. It caught him off guard; why were you, of all people, showing any form of sympathy for him?

"I was hoping you'd be here" you said, handing him the pen that he has been desperately trying to get a hold of again.

[mousecracker]

fairy tail trio kids vs adults

[blackkatdraws2]

Voice of Fate. [Achromatic Loop AU]

[mkanuhea]

i’ve been listening to paramore n its been a while since i’ve drawn our fav lesbians so

[loveforsatoru]

Lots of things remind you of Satoru. The color blue, sweets, the evening just before the sun sets and the skies grow dark. Quite frankly, everything reminds you of him. Wherever you look, he’d always be there. You love him so much it makes you sick.

He deserved it, though. He was a good man, the best you’ve ever known. The least anyone could give him was love– and god did you give him more than enough to satisfy his soul for this lifetime and the ones to come. Because he, for someone who often thought logically and did not put much attention onto what happens after death, always knew that he would be yours and you would be his, everywhere out there in this infinite universe, even if he cannot hold you in all of them.

Just like now as you stand over his grave with an emotionless face and tears running down your cheeks, an umbrella over your head to shield you from the pouring rain which mirrors your tears, reminding you that the world moves on despite your inability to do the same.

Your days have blended together like a never ending loop since his death. You live the same thing over and over and over. Grief, tears, mourning, sadness. You wish you could forget the image of his severed body laying on the ground, covered in blood. It doesn’t feel real. Maybe it’s not. Maybe it’s just a bad dream and you’ll wake up soon, hopefully.

You’ve been standing here in the empty cemetery for hours. You haven’t eaten, haven’t slept, or uttered a single word. What’s the point? He’s not here to listen anymore.

You discard the umbrella, letting the rain soak you entirely, and sit in front of where he’s buried.

Satoru Gojo; loving teacher and husband. 1989-2018.

You gently trace your fingers over the engraved words, the same way you would over his cheeks when he’d come home from missions and fall right into your embrace– the place he always craved to be, where he should be right now.

During the entire fight, the only thing on his mind was you. You, you, you, you. And how badly he wanted to get it over with just so he could hold you and leave everything else behind.

He planned to retire after this final battle, so he could finally live a life of peace. Move away from Tokyo, perhaps to somewhere up in the countryside where the loudest sound in the morning would be that of chirping birds. He would go wherever the wind could take him as long as you were there, too. Without you, he’d feel like nothing.

It’s ironic, really. You��re the one who has to learn to live without him.

Part of you is expecting him to appear from thin air and wipe your tears away, telling you he’s here and he won’t be going anywhere anytime soon.

The final conversation with him was one you didn’t want to have. You waited outside the door while he spoke to Yuji, listening to every word before the younger boy left.

“Those kids won’t forget you, you know,” You say as you settle onto his lap and his hands find home on your waist.

“Yeah, but sometimes it feels that way,” He sighs, “Whatever happens, I’ll just have to accept it.”

You hum in response as he holds onto you a little tighter than usual and buries his face in your neck, drowning himself in you.

You let him do as he pleases, knowing you could never push him away even if you tried.

“You’re a little off,” You say softly. “Is everything okay?” You stare into his eyes, hoping to find some sort of warmth and reassurance amidst the clouds that swarm in them.

Of course it’s not. You can sense the little bit of doubt that radiates off of him. He wasn't the type to question his own abilities, but there’s a lot on the line, a lot to lose, a lot of you that he doesn’t want to let go of.

“You think so?” He tries to mask it with his usual tone. You can see right through it. “I’m a-okay. Don’t worry so much, sweetheart. You know me.”

“I do know you and that’s why I know you’re not a-okay. Talk to me, Satoru. Please.”

If this were any other day, he would, but it’s not. He just wants to hold and kiss you for as long as he can. He knows he might not be able to again.

“Let’s just stay here a little while. Forget about everything else for now,” He presses his lips against your temple and they linger for too long.

You huff in defeat and nod, because as much as you want to deny it, the impending feeling of doom won’t allow you.

“Okay.. but promise me you’ll be alright.”

It’s too much to ask for. He can’t make you a promise he can’t keep. You’re his wife, the love of his life. It would kill him even more to die knowing he broke the last promise he ever made you.

Instead, he pulls away to admire every detail of your face without a word.

“Promise me,” You repeat, “Promise me you’ll be okay, Satoru. I need to hear you say it.”

Your desperation is like a knife to his heart, but he can’t do that for you. This is the one thing he has to deny you no matter how badly he wants to bring you closer and say it’ll all be fine.

He hides his forming tears away with a chuckle, but there’s no humor behind it and kisses you like it’s the last time he will. It was. He remembers the way your lips taste even in death.

Sometimes, you can still hear his voice and the sound of his laughter rings in your ears. Nowadays, that’s the only thing that brings joy into your days. You don’t know yourself anymore. A part of you died with him and you’re afraid you’ll never be able to get it back.

You remember the way he smelt and the way his eyes would crinkle when he would smile a little too hard– mostly at you and your corny jokes that he found hilarious. The way he’d sing in the shower and hug you from behind before fully drying off while you prepared dinner because he knew it’d annoy you, but your scolds were never serious. He could tell with the way the corner of your lips threatened to curl upwards.

All of these cherished moments and many others have now become memories to remember him by. The day you forget any of it is the day you die, with your last request being to be buried right beside him.

Repeated sobs escape your once sealed shut lips. You cry and dig your hands into the muddy grass below you, clawing and clawing to seemingly reach the core of the earth and bring him back, but it won’t. Nothing will. You can’t do anything to bring him back and it rips you apart at the very center of your heart.

You’ll look for him in the skies, the wind, the trees, the color blue, sweets, the evening just before the sun sets and the skies grow dark, and anything and everything else. Until one day, your time will also come and you’ll be reunited once again.

But for now, all you can do is cry. And you do, everyday without fail because any life would be better than one without him.

[genyakisser]

i fall ill every time i remember he died

[mikakuna]

are we ready to face the truth that is bruce did not love jason as much as jason loved bruce?

[its-a-me-mango]

It's gotta be perfect if it was COOL /j

[rockingtheorange]

Do you ever think about how important and significant Alex's action to give his key to Henry was?

Alex had brought the key with him everywhere throughout his life since he got it.

Then, the first moment he's quietly alone with Henry, Alex gets to explain what it means to him: it's the key to his family's house in Austin.

But it means much more to him: it's from the times when his family was still all together (book), it's his childhood, his time growing up in Texas, it's his mixed blood, and the quiet life he left behind to follow his mother in something bigger than him.

That key is his comfort and reminder of what he was and the memories he will treasure forever.

Alex doesn't tell all of this to Henry, but Mr. HRH Prince Dickhead knows there's more about it underneath, just like how he had always known Alex wasn't just a peasant boy.

Alex brings his keychain everywhere and Henry is always there to admire it.

The key to Henry means something completely different: it's the reminder of his unusual life, the fact that he can't have such normal things as possessing a simple key, it represents all the things he can only admire from afar but he'll never be able to posses.

And then Alex breaks the wall that Henry thought would suffocate him forever, that seemed impossible to destroy.

Alex starts to remove the key when he's in the most intimate moments with Henry. He decides to leave the thoughts and worries related to his family for another time. He decides to be fully Henry's, even during just brief rendezvous.

And Henry takes everything he can, as far as he can. Till the moment, he's sure will come, when the magic breaks and the key will return to be something to admire and desire from afar, but never possess.

But Alex isn't just a peasant boy.

He hands over his childhood, his memories and his whole being to Henry, with just a simple gesture. Alex says "Henry, I'm yours." by giving him the object of his desires, by breaking the illusion that Henry can't be a normal boy, simply owning the key of someone's heart.

And Henry is reluctant to accept it, cause he knows (just like he had always known that Alex wasn't just a peasant boy) that the key means so much to him. But Henry accepts, cause he wants to believe that the wall between them can break, Alex made him believe it. And he grips and holds onto that hope like his life depends on it, cause it does.

Alex is the only key to his freedom.

[ge]

[huntingrays]

so many people forget that apollo told jason that leo was alive, so no he didn’t die thinking he’d get to see leo again. he died knowing he’d never get to see leo again and leo lived thinking he saved himself and his best friend and that they would get to reunite again

and that’s much sadder

like, imagine? (i haven’t reread toa so apologies if im forgetting anything)

he knew he had to die because he couldn’t allow it to be piper. he heard that leo was alive but likely knew he’d never get to see him again before he died so piper wouldn’t have die. he realized that it would always have to be like this, that in the end one of them had to die. leo escaped death, so it fell back on jason’s shoulders. jason couldn’t even be mad. he knew he’d always take it, that he would die for leo in every universe. leo thought he could outsmart the prophecy but, like every other person from the tales, he simply made it come true

he had his regrets, though

he regretted he couldn’t fulfill his promise to the minor gods. he regretted he couldn’t be a normal teenager. he regretted he couldn’t see leo one last time before he died. he regretted that leo would inevitably blame himself for jason’s death. he regretted that he would force piper to deal with the death of her best friends twice

but most of all? he regretted that he didn’t realize his feelings sooner. he wished that he knew his time with leo was limited. if he did, he would have told him how much he meant to him. if he knew, he would have told him he loved him

[doctorwhommm]

dontcha think it’s kinda cute that i died right inside your arms tonight?