they were all angst


Okay, so I meant to post this yesterday but because of that last episode, I decided to wait because I’m still crying over here. Honestly, I’ve been in the mood to do something feelsy/mild angst in this fandom because it needs more of it tbh-,,, but it has a happy ending, so you guys can’t hate me too much, right? ( ;;; ω ;;; ) If you’re wondering what happened, Yuuri got into a serious car accident before the GPF and Viktor never left his side after his surgery.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be dying in the corner until the next episode releases.


Drarry Fact #51

They had a bet, the person who caught the snitch first was allowed to do/make the other person do whatever they wanted. It had already been a couple hours they’d been playing and they both just wanted to get it done when the both saw a glint of gold in the distance. They both set off speeding down the pitch pushing up against each other. They were neck and neck when the snitch dropped. They both nose dived, playing a game of chicken. But they were relentless. Harry crashed to the ground with Draco on top of him. They both just sat there Draco on top of Harry staring in his eyes. When Harry snapped out of it and opened his hand showing the snitch. So that’s how they found themselves sneaking food out of the dinning hall to go eat on the pitch.

how does one draw snow in SAI again…

anyhow, here’s a fanart for @pemprika‘s werewolf!yuu AU! >w< i haven’t done any proper colouring in a while so this was sort of a challenge for me as well TwT

i hope you like this!~ ;v;

1726 words (37970 total) on a short story that became a novella that wants to be a novel that still needs a good title.

I’m about to break into the third act, and it’s all about to go to hell. That’s hard for me to write, because I have to sort of experience it to write it.

A little bit that I wrote today, that I like:

“Are you okay? You seem weird today.”

I didn’t seem weird. I was weird. And hormones and pre-teen angst and my general level of constant anxiety were all just wrecking me.

I hope this all hangs together when it’s done, and I hope other people can relate to it the way that I do.

Wish You Were Here

Maggie aka @winchesterswoonathon gave me this aesthetic idea:  Oh, honey! Can I please have John x reader with Wish you were here by Pink Floyd? Some smut and angst all rolled up into one fic? Hugs and kisses!

You should have known better than to fall in love with John Winchester. You should have known better than to give him your heart. You remembered his smile and his touch as you laid alone on your bed. The very same bed he had made love to you on only a few days ago.

The smell of smoke still lingered to your clothes. The smell of him still lingered to your sheets. You cried, wishing you could believe he was in heaven. You cried, wishing he was still here with you.

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So to all of you who were saying “poor Tony” in response to my “Tony loses his virginity to Strange, and thus loses his unicorn too” story: You wanted more angst, right?

Stephen looked up from reading his textbook to see that Tony was still spread out across the mattress of Stephen’s bed and hugging one Stephen’s pillows. Tony was pouting—not that Tony would admit to it—and it was driving Stephen bonkers.

Stephen dropped his textbook into his lap and huffed. “You know, you’re not the only one who has the right to be upset here. You purposefully withheld information from me.”

Tony didn’t bother to turn his he head to look at Stephen. He just hugged Stephen’s pillow tighter and glared at the wall. “I didn’t. I’d done hand stuff before, and that includes some fingering. It shouldn’t make a difference if a finger went up my ass or if a dick did. Hell, it shouldn’t make a difference whether I cum in someone’s hand or someone’s-”

“No need to finish that sentence. I understand biology enough to know where you are going with that.”

The pout temporarily vanished from Tony’s face. He craned his head around to smirk at Stephen. “Aw, is the doctor shy about talking about genitals?” Tony snickered.

“If you want to talk about vaginas or penises that’s fine. I don’t need the mental image of you having sex someone else though.”

“Jealous?” Tony teased.

Stephen scoffed. “Hardly. We’re sex buddies, remember? No feelings.”

The smile slid off Tony’s face. He turned away from Stephen and sighed at the wall. “Tony Stallion hates me now because of you.”

“Tony Stallion does not hate you. However, he is going to be weary of letting you touch him again.” Stephen was tempted to throw in a line about how Tony should be thankful for that, because at least the unicorn wasn’t trying to stampede him.

The room was quiet for a moment, and Stephen decided that it would be a good time to return to studying. Just as he picked up his book from his lap Tony started talking again.

“It’s just not fair! How am I any more or less a virgin than I was before? Also, modern thinking is starting to say that virginity doesn’t exist—that it’s just a concept created by men thousands of years ago to help them oppress-”

Stephen internally groaned as Tony went on his tirade. Stephen could barely focus with Tony sulking in his room, let alone when Tony spoke. He’d kick the guy out if it wouldn’t result in more pouting and Tony bargaining himself into staying anyway (Stephen had to admit that when it came to making deals, Tony was exceptionally skillful).

Fortunately for Stephen, there were easier options available.

Stephen closed his eyes and astral projected out of his body.

He gave Tony just a passing glance as he flew out the window and toward the archives. He’d spend an hour studying at the archives then return to his dorm room. By then Tony would most likely have left from boredom and Stephen could study in true peace.

Stephen did just that—startling a handful of his fellow students along the way whenever he snatched a book off a shelf or moved chairs around. It usually only took them a moment to realize it was most likely him, due to his penchant for astral projection.

Stephen was actually surprised by the small number of students in the archives. When villains weren’t attacking the campus the archives were usually packed with studying superheroes. It was one of the reasons why he preferred to study in his room.

Stephen shook off his curiosity at the unusual behavior and studied for an hour as planned.

As he drifted back to his dorm, blaring music and raucous laughter from Club A poured into the quad. Stephen diverted from the direct path to his dorm to spy on his partying classmates. He now knew why the archives had been so empty. Almost everyone was partying.

Stephen mentally calculated what he had left to study and if he’d have time to join his classmates at Club A.  He should if he studied for an hour in his astral form while “sleeping”.

With that in mind, Stephen returned to his dorm. He startled at the sound of Tony’s voice as he phased through the wall.

“I guess they’re cute together. I was rooting for Loki and Brian, personally, but I guess nothing can beat Natasha and Loki’s shared love of mischief.” Tony scrolled through photos on his phone then looked over his shoulder at Stephen’s body. “Don’t tell Natasha I called it ‘mischief’ though. She prefers the term ‘spying’, which it is technically, but considering how much trouble she makes along the way, I think the two words are interchangeable.”

Stephen stared at Tony. He couldn’t believe it. Why was Tony still in his room? The guy was a genius. How did he not understand a dismissal when it was given to him?

The smile on Tony’s face faltered as he scrolled through more photos. He quickly replaced it with a grin. “Oh!” Tony snickered. “Steve is on the dance floor with Sharon, Peggy, and Bucky? Poor guy. What is that? Two people he’s crushing on, and someone who flirts with him all the time? He probably has no idea what to do. At least Sam is having the appropriate reaction and laughing at him in the background.”

More scrolling. “Amora and Taskmaster seem to be having fun.” Tony squinted. “Is that Scott on Taskmaster’s shoulder?”

Tony kept flicking through his phone’s photos.

Stephen, tired of Tony’s rambling, moved toward his body to reunite his astral self with his physical self.

“I’m so pissed at you,” Tony whispered.

Stephen stopped—inches from rejoining his body.

“It’s not even really your fault, but I’m still so pissed. Tony Stallion was my friend, and you-” Tony cut himself off. “Forget it.”

Tony shoved himself off the bed and headed to the door. He grabbed the handle, but paused instead of turning it. His shoulders bunched together. “Not that you care or are even listening, but I really liked having someone who was mine. Someone who wasn’t just being nice to me because they wanted something. Someone who was also always there. Jan’s probably the only person who hasn’t wanted something from me, but she’s always bouncing from one friend to the next. Tony Stallion was always there and he never wanted…” Tony cursed. He lightly kicked the bottom of Stephen’s door. “What the hell am I even saying? This isn’t cool. Tony Stark does not mope or cry about not having any friends. No, he parties and makes everyone else jealous of him.”

Tony nodded. “Yeah.” Tony threw open the door. “Fuck you, Strange. Just watch me get drunk and get Brian to do body shots off me again. You and everyone will see just how awesome and how much fun I am!”

Tony slammed the door shut as he departed.

Stephen’s astral form hovered outside of his body. He grimaced as guilt gnawed away at.

He told himself he hadn’t done anything wrong—that Tony’s relationships and happiness were not his business, but he found his remorse and shame were far stronger than any logical argument he could conjure.

His Voice

John x Female Reader


Word Count: 2465

Warning: Slavery

Request: hi! could i get an imagine w john or alex or anyone in hamilsquad really about being in love with a girl but finding out she’s been enslaved or something? love how they were all abolitionists so maybe them getting passionate about freeing her or angst if they can’t or anything you want! any way you want to end it or whatever direction is your call, thanks!

A/N: I AM SO SORRY. I honestly don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve posted, but it’s been a long time. Things just got super busy all at once. And now all the sudden I’m officially in college, and the transition has not been the easiest, but we’re getting there. Anyways, this one was a tough one for me, and I sincerely hope I did it justice and didn’t offend anyone or anything. The main reason it took so long was because I was so worried I would do it wrong or badly. I honestly don’t know how I feel about the final product, but it’s the best I’ve got. Next update should be fairly quick though because I know exactly what I’m doing for Peggy college fluff, just you wait

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Refuge Until Morning - ScribeShan - Scorpion (TV 2014) [Archive of Our Own]
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

Post 3x16. Toby walks with Happy through a grief-filled 24 hours after Patrick goes to prison and her friendship with Cabe is forever changed.

A post-ep that wormed its way into my head after the amazing performances in this episode and wouldn’t let go. I love that these characters were all allowed to be flawed but noble in this ep. Angst ahoy, but with some resolution and a little cuteness.

Hey, @krazy-ky-sta-hatter, when you said “Hurt the children” you meant “utterly destroy them”, right? Because I thought you meant utterly destroy them.

Who else wants to see what other terrible things I can do to cat son and baby bug?

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louis-the-beautiful-one  asked:

*nestles sleepily*


Lestat’s gaze lowered as he looked over the tired features of his weak yet beautiful fledgling. It was no wonder he was so tired though his sudden proximity and unexpected gesture of comfort and affection caught him rather off-guard. It was in stark contrast to the somber mood his companion had been in these past few days. 

Louis now looked almost at peace, his eyes lidded and his features relaxed. It was a relief to the blonde as well to know the stubborn twit was perhaps even momentarily less burdened with all of this unnecessary guilt. It meant there was some hope he might learn to accept the gift he had asked for but, now so readily rejected. And that would be a godsend for he knew no more what he might do to show him what a blessing it could be.

His hand was unable to resist stroking his cheek gently before laying himself down in the dark within the lined coffin and closing the lid behind him. At least in the silence things seemed to be going alright. 

“Bonsoir mon bel homme…” he whispered, allowing the other to curl closer against him as he held him near, even if for now it could only be in moments like this.


I miss you.

Sketches including Kings Yuuri and Viktor from a fantasy au with @thelittleleprechaun, a sad Yurio and beat up Otabek from a high school au with @yuripliestsky, fem Otabek, and a very flustered older Yurio

Martyrhood - Damian Wayne x Mom!Reader

A/N: So I recently reread a bunch of comics following Damian’s death in the Batverse and I’ve forgotten just how painful all of those comics were. Sorry for putting up so much angst lately (or rather the amount of angst that’s about to invade your dashes). Like seriously though, the next three prompts are going to end up being angsty in some way.

Your son Damian dies by the hands of biological mother and the Heretic. You would give anything to bring him back but you resign yourself to being a childless mother for the rest of your life. 

Motherhood        Parenthood

Talia came back worse than you could have possibly imagined.

You were at peace with your family for a while after your last run in with her but you knew she would eventually come back. It simply only a matter of time before you would have to deal with her again. You just didn’t imagine the lengths she would have gone to in order to serve her purposes.

As a general rule you tried to stay out of the affairs and work of Batman and Robin but Alfred called you informing you of Talia’s siege on Wayne tower and how Damian left the manor despite Bruce’s orders otherwise. Swearing under your breath you quickly gathered all of your equipment and sped across town and into the warzone.

By the time you got there and fought your way into the building you were too late. The battle was over and Damian, your son, was a casualty to Talia and the Heretic’s games.

Your entire world seemed to end when you caught sight of your son’s lifeless body. Your feet were impossibly heavy as you step to Damian’s side. You collapsed onto your knees in front of him and cradled his battered and bloody body to your chest.

Ibni.” You choked out, brushing his blood matted hair away from his face. You hoped to any deity that would listen that Damian would show some sort of response to your touch. That there was still a chance to bring him back. “Damian please. Come back.” You cried, your tears falling unheard onto Damian paling cheek.

He’s gone. The world turned cold and you started to sob uncontrollably, crying and screaming at the loss of your heart. You didn’t care how loud you were, you were going to let the heavens know the wrong they have done you by taking away the person you hold most dear.

You weren’t sure how long you sat there cradling your son in your arms when Bruce approached behind you and dropped down to your level. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and brought you and Damian to securely to his chest. You embraced his comfort and wrap your arms around his side sobbing against his chest, your tears staining his uniform.

“I couldn’t save him. I’m sorry, I couldn’t -  ” Bruce whispered hopelessly in your ear, gripping you tighter to him as he cried with you.

You both lost your son that day.  

In the time after Damian’s murder, you leaned on Bruce for support. He offered comfort as much as he could while the two of you were alone but he too had to grieve his own way. While you yearned to seek revenge on Talia, he insisted that he was going to find a way to bring Damian back. He swore to it.

You watched as he slowly drove himself mad searching all corners of the world for a miracle. You would give anything to have your son back but chasing the impossible only served to prevent you from honoring his memory.

“Bruce, stop.” You commanded as he was suiting up to chase after another miracle that was only going to prove to be a dead end. He ignored you, pushing past you march towards the Batwing. You caught up to him, stood directly in his path and placed your hands on his chest.

“Move, [Y/N].” Bruce commanded. You frowned, crossed your arms over your chest and shook your head.

“You’ve tried so hard to find a solution and I commend you for that but I think it’s time to let Damian rest in peace.” You say softly, your hand traveling up to caress his unshaven cheek.

“I’m so close [Y/N]. I just need some more time. I can bring our son back.” He insisted leaning into your hand.

“I don’t know if my heart could take another failed expedition, Bruce. I want Damian back just as much as you but I think … I think it’s time we mourn him.” You say, a solitary tear slipping down your cheek. Bruce brushed the tear away with his thumb.

“I failed Damian in life [Y/N], I refuse to fail him in death.” Bruce said with conviction before stepping around you and entering the plane. You didn’t try and stop him as he took off. There was no use in trying because you knew when he set his mind on something there was no stopping him. Deep down you hoped desperately that one of these times Bruce would be successful in bringing you son back but with each passing day your hope faded. You resigned yourself to be a childless mother once again.

Days passed until you saw Bruce again and when you saw him it was only quickly in passing. Hell was breaking loose with the Justice League and he only came back to the manor to retrieve the Hellbat suit so that he could fight on equal footing on the hellish world. You wished him luck and glory in his battles and watched as he left. He didn’t tell you what was happening or where he was going but you trusted that he would come back eventually, he always did. You returned to your normal everyday life, making sure to keep an open line of contact with you at all times.

Bruce returned many hours later stirring up a commotion in the cave loud enough to hear from the manor. The unmistakable sound of an opening boom tube drew you towards the cave  wanting to be there in case your assistance was required. You already had a first aid kit in hand when you made the descent into the cave. A cacophony of voices reverberated off the walls and you wondered if something must have happened. You quickened your pace and came up behind the entire family huddled around a single spot.

“What’s going on? Who’s been hurt?” You inquired pushing your way through the crowd with your med-kit. You stopped dead in your tracks when you saw the sight that everyone else had been watching.

“Damian - He’s home [Y/N]. I’ve brought our son home.” Bruce said, his unmasked face brimming with joy as he held Damian in his arms. You kneeled down beside them and reverently reaching your hand out to touch your son’s warm vibrant cheek. As soon as you realized your son was very much here and alive you started bawling tears of joy. You scooped him up into your arms and placed a firm kiss on his forehead while brushing the hair away from his face. His eyes fluttered slightly and with some effort he managed to reveal his emerald eyes to you for the first time in far too long.

Ummi?” He croaked weakly. “What happened?” He asked.

“It’s alright Ibni. You’re safe now. You’re home.” You cried.

Great Escape

Author: Deanthewarrior
Dean x Reader
Sam and Castiel were trapped in a different dimension, and they could never return. Dean was all alone, except… you were there.
Words: 1,570
Warnings: ANGST, major character loss, fluff.

Originally posted by spn-spam

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Growing up all i ever saw were two colours; the white of my hospital gown and the dreary grey of the sky through my window. Those were the only two colours i ever saw and i despised it, they were cold colours, colours that were sad, colours that reminded me of a place i was forever stuck in.

Until one day i saw a different colour; red. It was fiery, loud and it made me feel warm. Whenever i thought of the colour red it chased away all my worries and made me feel at ease. 

The person who showed me red showed me the rainbow. Everyday the person came in she was a different colour. Somedays she was happy and pink and other days she was small and blue. But the one colour she always hid underneath her rainbow, was red. 

Slowly but surely i fell in love with the colour red. The colour red made me feel alive again and i’m happy before i close my eyes for the last time, red will be what i see.