#this counts as angst right? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theminecraftbee · 1 year

Text

"You know, you're starting to bother me," Xisuma says.

Joe nearly drops the cat he'd been gently lifting away from an unexpected patch of sculk (can't let the cute little kitty get its paws in the hazardous material without a hazmat suit). The cat yowls. Joe kisses its little nosie in apology and then drops it. It runs behind a bush.

"You nearly made me drop my cat!" Joe says accusingly.

"Why were you holding a cat?" Xisuma asks.

"Well, I don't know, maybe animals are adorable and therapeutic!" Joe says, huffing. "You wouldn't know. All you... you Hermitopia people keep on trying to get me to move them, instead of loving and cherishing them like you ought."

Xisuma pauses. "You confuse me, my friend."

"...are the cats not what you're mad at me about?" Joe asks. "Is it the office supplies? Because, like, you've seen me show up to take more, and you haven't really cared before. Like, you know, if you were gonna be mad about me taking some of my rockets or glass -"

"No, no, it's not that either," Xisuma says. "It's about Cub."

"Oh," Joe says.

He thinks for a while.

"I don't really get it? I mean, I'm not working for Cub. I'm working for Pixlriffs. And for False!" He leaves out which False he's working for; he feels like, right now, it's more helpful if he's just like, oh yeah, I'm working for False, she's giving me an apartment to stay in since you all stole my house, but it's cool, we're fellow Hermits, as opposed to pointing out Joe's currently dubious Hermit status of late by pointing out that he's working for the non-Hermit False that seems confused and distressed by their very existence, and also that he increasingly thinks the Hermit False might be spying on, and...

Look. Sometimes, being Joe Hills is very confusing.

...what was he confused about again?

"No. I mean, sort of? You did sell him all those catalysts," Xisuma says. "We really shouldn't be giving him sculk. It's like I said earlier. He's not the same Cub we know, my friend, and you..."

Xisuma trails off. Joe waits for him to get to the point. He doesn't.

"The catalysts were technically already Cub's, but like, don't tell him that," Joe decides to say.

"You still should have burned them or something!" Xisuma says. "Now he's gonna, gonna infest even more! It's like you don't even care!"

Something strange and hot burns in Joe's chest. "I do care," he mutters. "I care about a lot of things."

"Then why are you - you can tell he's sick, can't you?"

"Have you banned him from Hermitopia yet?" Joe asks, and, hm. He left first. He shouldn't be quite so upset about that, about the feeling like being an outsider thing. He's been here for so long that he should be used to that. Here he is though.

"Yes," Xisuma says. "Because he keeps on - well, you know!"

"Well, the way I see it," Joe says slowly, "Cub might need a job. Or maybe a friend? I don't know."

"Are you blind? He's - he's sick Joe! He's - I don't know what's wrong with him."

Joe huffs. The strange warm thing in his chest gets hotter and colder all at once. It sort of feels like when you drink in hot chocolate on a cold night, and are breathing out again, and all the warm air in your chest condenses into fog in your lungs. Like that.

"Well, maybe he's been perfectly nice to me, outside of annoying my employer. Besides, it's Cub. I'm honestly just impressed he's trying to get away with this. And, um, that's not - none of that is my fault, right? I mean, I didn't... Listen, I have this apartment I have to finish renovating. Also, like, eighty cats to feed. So, um, if... if you don't mind if I just... go do that," Joe says.

Xisuma stares. "Maybe there's something wrong with you too," Xisuma says.

"I don't think so?" Joe says. "I mean... maybe I just..."

He trails off. He still hasn't quite figured out the words for what he just yet. He simply does. He just. And he feels it more every time he remembers that Enemy of the State sign, or that trash can, or the towering monstrosity that he was the first one to build on but didn't get to name, or the way everyone keeps on calling his cats odd, or how hard it was to get hired, or the fact that not-Hermit False had given him an apartment for doing something easy like watching, or the fact that he wants to go home very, very badly, to his pinball machine, and all the things he actually understands, and the rules and friendships that make sense.

And in all of that, burning, he remembers: Cub is one of his closest friends, and Cub has been kicked out too.

So.

"You're in danger, friend," Xisuma says lowly, and he leaves, and Joe's still not really certain which of the many confusing things Joe's been doing lately he's talking about.

He stands there, chest still burning, for a bit, then he goes to the bushes. "Here, kitty," he murmurs. "The big scary Doomguy is gone now, don't you see? Here, here kitty kitty..."

He'll worry about what all this he's feeling is later. Probably at an inconvenient time, actually, like the next time he runs into Xisuma while taking glass from Hermitopia or something. It's fine though. Everything's fine. He's just... he's... just. Yeah. Yeah.

...Maybe he should tell False about this, too. Technically, Xisuma approached the tower, after all. It'll give his shaking hands something to do when he still doesn't have the energy to put the finishing touches on his apartment. Yeah.

No one could possibly be mad at him for that.

#hermitcraft #empires smp #joe hills #a bee fic #....let me have my dramatic joe angst occasionally alright #like this is only BARELY how he's playing this storyline but #let him get to be a LITTLE bitter. about being one of the only hermits not being counted in the group. right

398 notes · View notes

phykoha · 1 month

Note

PHY PLEAS I CAN'T LIVE LAUGH LOVE IN THESE CONDITIONS

#blah blah blah #inbox answer #I mean it TECHNICALLY would count as comfort right? cuz Lee is comforting Angelo #but at the same time its angst cuz haha.. hehe.. teehee (<- projecting onto my blorbos)

38 notes · View notes

chronosdawn · 1 year

Text

Delirium - Vampire!Scaramouche x GN!Reader

I’m in the mood for vampires what can I say?

Warnings: dark content, kidnapping and captivity, blood-drinking and biting, reader is very out of it and it’s reflected in the prose.

You don’t know how long you’ve been here. Kept in this room where the thick velvet curtains are always drawn and the faintest hints of sunlight able to sneak through the gaps on the brightest of days are a fine luxury. The sheets underneath you are soft and silken, clearly of high quality—as is the set of manacles chaining your wrist to the bed frame.

It is not those that make escape something of a far flung dream however, no, it is instead the arms of your captor that are often locked around you in a vice-like grip in your more conscious moments. He’s holding you now, the dark strands of his hair brushing against the side of your face as he leans down and buries his fangs in your neck.

You barely react to pain anymore, just an almost imperceptible flinch, too used to the sensation and too unfamiliar with your own limbs to do much more. This is all you know anymore, arms and fangs and cold—always so very cold, like every speck of heat has been drained from your body and you are incapable of generating any more. If only you could reach the curtains and pull them open to let the sunlight warm your skin just like—

Like when? Had you ever stood in the sunlight? You could recall the sensation, the lovely way it felt on your skin but any memory you might have had of it is gone, lost to the dust and the dark and the cold. It is so painfully cold in here.

Your captor draws back from your neck, peering at you with eyes that seem to glow violet in the dim light, a smear of your blood darkening the corner of his lips. A slender-fingered hand cradles your cheek with a little too much force to be called gentle.

“Not long now,” he says, brushing his thumb over the skin of your cheek. “See, I told you you’d get through it just fine, didn’t I?”

Did he? You can’t recall. You think you knew him before the room on some days—on days where you even remember a time before the room at all. In your clearest moments you think you might have been fond of him once. Or maybe you were afraid? Perhaps it was both, before the cold had come and left your insides deadened.

“You’ll feel better when it’s over, you’ll realize I was right all along.” He leans towards you and kisses you sweetly.

His lips are like ice and taste of blood.

No, you’d told him you didn’t want this. That you wanted him but not the cold and the never-ending night. You pull away with as much effort as you’re able when your muscles are all numb.

“S—Scara—” The rest of his name falls away from you as quickly as your moment of lucidity had come.

“I’m right here,” he says, wiping away a tear that you do not remember falling down your cheek. “We’ll be together forever now, you’ll never need anyone else.”

He may say that but you feel like you do. Like there are people you want to see so badly your heart may burst from your chest, even if you can’t recall a single one of their faces.

“I—” you try but the cold has seeped into your tongue and your brain and you do not know whether to tell him to go away or come closer so that you may lose yourself in the scent of green tea on his clothes and dream of days gone by where he was not the feature of your very worst nightmares.

Your chance to ask for either is lost as he pulls away, rolling up one of the sleeves of his fine shirt to reveal a skin so pale it can never have seen the sun at all. Without any sign of hesitation, he brings his wrist to his mouth and sinks his fangs into it while you watch on impassively.

A drop of dark liquid—darker than the blood of a human had any right to be—runs over his wrist as he draws it away from his mouth and holds it out towards you.

“Drink,” he tells you. The wound looks raw and deep, blood welling up from it freely, yet there’s no trace of pain in his expression as stares at you expectantly.

You don’t think it’s normal for you to drink blood, even if you have vague memories of going through this same ritual on a number of occasions. And it’s so dark, the same shade as the curtains. If you could just reach the curtains and pull them back to reveal the sunlight then—

“I told you to drink it—” he shoves the bleeding punctures in his skin towards your mouth, “—so hurry up before it starts to heal.”

“I…” What was it you wanted to say?

“What?” he snaps at you.

“Will it take away the cold?”

He freezes, eyes boring into you. “What do you mean?”

“I’m so cold Scara. I don’t want to be cold anymore.” You’ve started crying again, the rolling tears like icicles on your cheeks.

An expression flickers across his features, but in the dark room you can’t tell if it’s one of annoyance or remorse. Finally he looks away and says, “yes, it’ll take away the cold.”

That’s all you need to hear to bring the bloody wound to your mouth and start lapping at it with your tongue. The taste is bitter but you can’t bring yourself to care, not if there’s the slightest chance it could ward off the chill that has crawled so deep inside it might as well be a part of you.

Scaramouche watches you rapturously, his features softening in a way they never did for anyone other than you. It used to make you so very happy, when he looked at you like. Before he’d asked you to become something inhuman and you’d told him no—only to end up here. Where sunlight could no longer reach you and you were left in the dark and the cold.

Ah, it’s still so very cold.

#vampire AU #Vampire!Scaramouche #Scaramouche x reader #genshin impact x reader #GN!reader #not sure if this counts as angst or horror tbh #both maybe?#for anyone who could not follow my nonsense:#Reader was in a relationship with vampire!Scaramouche and things were actually going okay #right up until Scara brought up the idea of turning them so they could be together forever #and reader told him they didn't want to lose their humanity #this was not well received #tw: yandere #tw: kidnapping #tw: blood #have I missed anything?#please let me know if I have #genshin x reader

101 notes · View notes

nonbinarylesbianherb · 9 months

Text

my brain trying to stop me from writing fanfics instead of studying

63 notes · View notes

puppiesandnightlock · 6 months

Text

Link: Two Birds On a Wire

Summary:

Damian and Jon, and their views on the moment that the Super Sons - and their friendship - cracked. the supersons broke up yall im sry-

for prompt six: Friendship

Two birds on a wire…

They watched each other, Damian sitting on their old Gotham rooftop as Jon seemingly descended from the stars. It was almost a remake of a few months before, except for a few rather striking differences. The wind swept Jon’s curls to the side, tearful pools of sapphire blue desperately searching for the boy’s gaze.

His domino was off, and for his credit, Damian’s gaze stayed steely, looking straight ahead. The black cape he wore whipped around him in the Gotham chill, the reds of his kevlar suit bringing out his caramel complexion.

Touching down onto the rooftop, Jon inched closer to him until Damian stood straight up, fiddling with the mask in his hand, seemingly a nervous tactic.

One tries to fly away…

“Stop.”

Damian looked up, piercing the indestructible Kryptonian with his gaze. He twirled the mask in his hand, debating whether or not to put it back on. Jon stood in front of him, having recoiled at his words.

This boy, someone he had once treasured and still did, someone he would have once killed for, had gone as Damian's best friend, and had come back as someone completely different.

If it had just been the trauma, he would have understood, who else but him understood how deep a scarred childhood could go.

He had never treated Jon as anything less than an equal. He, yes, had looked down on him, had once considered him a danger to society as we know it, but he had never treated him as an incapable small child, someone who could have gone off the rails at any given moment, destroying everything.

Sure, that was a little hypocritical, and perhaps he was justifying himself a bit too much because he probably has done exactly that,, but that wasn't the point.

The point was it had always been them two, Jon and Damian against the world.

And then Jon came back older. bigger , stronger, with a stupid boyfriend.

Romance was stupid. Feelings were stupid.

And so, he closed himself off. If everything was going to change, if his oldest, only friend, was going to change and leave him alone with all these incompetent people who called themselves heroes, then he sure as hell was going to make sure he left first.

And the other stays…

“Dami…I-”

Jon reached out again for him, watching the pain fill the green eyes he’d so desperately missed.

He’d come back, and sure, he didn't say bye, but they were still the Super Sons, right? Robin and Superboy, although now he was technically the oldest AND tallest of the two, but he could muster up some big brother energy and let his name go first.

He knew he would have o take more charge now, be a bit more assertive here, and that was in. He couldn't understand how or why Damian was so appalled about this. It hurt that they wouldn't go to school together again or grow up together, but that would pass, and Jon had already gotten much more used to being practically an adult, so why hasn't damian?

They were still best friends. They would always be best friends.

He knew he was all Damian had, so why was the younger trying to pull away so much?

Two birds of a feather….

They stood there, on the rooftop, these conflicting thoughts running through their heads.

“You’re so much taller then me now.” Damian spoke suddenly.

Jon took a step closer and tried to joke. “Yeah, shorty-pants.”

“You're bigger, broader. Your hair got longer. A part of me swore it was you, when i saw you coming towards me. But everything else didn't know who you were.”

Damian made a motion as if he were hugging himself, and as he looked down, Jon could feel the hurt coming off in waves.

“The only thing that could vaguely clue me in was your eyes. Same beautiful, haunting shade of blue. But they held ghosts. They were so deeply pained, heavy with trauma. Not my Jon’s eyes.”

The Super’s throat went dry, and while his heart broke at the description and his eyes welled with tears, anger bubbled up instead.

“So what, you’re blaming my six year space trauma for whatever the hell is goinng on between us right now? Because if thats the case, then kid, you’re just as spoiled and entitled as-”

A broken laugh was barked out, as Damian pointed at him with his mask.

“That, that right there is another reason. I don’t even know if you relized it. You wanna know the top reasonon this list? It’s because i lost my best friend.”

“Damian. I am right here.” Jon spat out each word as if they caused a vile taste in his mouth.

“Everyone mourns the loss the little boy, but i couldnt fucking care less. I lost the only person who would ever consider me an equal. One who wouldnt judge me for who i was, who i’ve become. Someone who would stick through with me. Not one who would call me ‘kid’ and force me out of missions. I don’t need another goddamn big brother, Jon, I have six older siblings. i have never seen you as kin, i never will.”

Say that they’re always gonna stay together….

Domino was plastered back on, completing the walls being built back up. They had seen each other at their most vulnrable, and Damian was never letting anyne past his barriers ever again.

He told himself that he didn't care about the tears in Jon’s eyes, the soft little cries. He forced himself to keep the water pouring from his own eyes concealed in his mask

“Is that just it then?” Jon scrubbed his eyes. “Are we done?”

Damian paused, willing himse;f to keep his voice steady. “If that is how you wish to call it.”

“What about younger us? What about the Super Sons?”

The bat swiveled around. “Keep their name and their legacy out of your mouth, Superman. We are not them. We can never be them again.”

His mask slipped, just slightly, but enough for Jon to see the tearful emerald eyes.

He stood on the edge of the roof, cape flowing behind him.

“Goodbye, Jonathan Kent.”

His hearing caught the pained sobs as the younger boy collapsed on a nearby rooftop, his heartbeat thumping erratically.

Jon had the urge to chase after him, to help him and comfort him, but he knew that nothing would help him break through those walls again. Still, he stuck for a bit, crying himself until he heard Damian’s broken voice sniffle into his comms.

“Please, Oracle, can you send for one of my siblings to come, I am at (coordinates). Thank you. No. I’m not injured. But not okay, either.”

He flew up into the air, leaving Gotham behind him.

Still, despite that night, a part of his heart would always, always belong to Damian, to Gotham. Therefore, he couldn't stop himself from uttering what he was sure would be his last words to his old best friend, knowing he would never hear it himself.

“Goodbye, Damian Wayne.”

Love

You

@super-sons-week-2023

#damian wayne #jondami #damijon #super sons #super sons week 2023 #jon kent #jonathan samuel kent #firendship breakup whoops-#thaat still counts right admins?#sorry guys i did warn u tho #angst #hurt no comfort #my writing #i was sleep deprived dont blame me #two birds song #can be read as romantic or platonic

23 notes · View notes

mofffun · 7 months

Text

"Wouldn't it be nice if it was all a dream?"

Jeramie must've asked himself that lots of time since his mother died. The very first night, really this time now, that there was no one else to tell him a bedtime story. Baby Jera crying himself to sleep. Or, he stayed and stayed awake because he didn't know when he'd wake up, only that there'd be no one to greet him 'good morning' if he did.

#ko31 #kingohger spoilers #mon mon #kingohger #jeramie brasieri #if he inherited superhuman strength/fighting technique from mom his literature side must come from dad right #i don't even dare to imagine what it was like for them when his dad passed away. counting by bug growth cycle how much does he remember…#also what i don't want to give takamina the lightbulb to bring him back for angst/big bad

23 notes · View notes

infiniteorangethethird · 11 months

Text

ok but consider: one of those "soulmate AU" stories except it's a dystopia written from the perspective of a loveless aro

#aromantic #loveless #heartless #writing ideas #queer stuff #you know the ones #“you don't see color till you meet your soulmate”#“your soulmate's name's written on your skin”#“a timer counts down till you meet your soulmate” etc #all of these are excellent sources of angst if used right #like idk. soulmates are a government-fabricated lie to keep #the ppl in check #and protag uncovers the truth #or if it's one of those “you aren't happy till you find The One”#protag sees black n white till they find their passion in some #niche thing and suddenly everything's in color #idk. i just want a story with a loveless aro as a protagonist #who is also like. not evil. yes villains are cool but i kinda had it with them for now

35 notes · View notes

randomfoggytiger · 7 months

Text

"Time Passing in Moments"

(Fictober, Day 4)

Courtesy of my first ever prompt: "Oooh, if you are taking requests: couples costume for fictober! or one dragging the other to a horror movie and needing snuggles to feel better!"

Thank you, anon!

*****

Scully knew that Mulder was on tenterhooks-- hopeful ones (with their corroborating eyewitness accounts and the bee as proof), yes; but tenterhooks, nonetheless. The wait was excruciating as top-down procedures dragged out endlessly despite the strings Skinner had been pulling.

In short, Mulder needed a break but refused to take one.

So, she decided to make him.

*****

It took an hour to gather her meager supplies and arrive, unexpected, at Mulder's Arlington building; and by then the street doors were already spilling out whooping little cowboys, ballerinas, and equal opportunity vampires. Scully let a hoard of chocolate-dirtied fingers rip open her mixed bag of candies and pass it around so everyone could get a piece. A few shy thank yous, one bold “I want another one!”, and a parental apology rippled through the group before they all parted ways, the children wobbling off to further plunder and Scully tapping, tapping her way, staccato, to her partner's door.

*****

Mulder answered after her first set of knocks, teeth glazed with a sticky Sugar Daddy. “Mm, Scuuhly, whah are you dooingh here?”

She held up her ravaged candy bag and another bag of Halloween odds and ends. “Trick or treat?”

He grinned-- got-- and let her in. “Treeht sounths….” Wiping at his teeth, he scowled.

Not a person in Arlington was as endearingly smug as Scully that night. “Well, since you’ve already been tricked, you might as well enjoy your treats.”

Mulder smiled-- got her this time-- and accepted her bag left-handed while pick-axing his molars with the right.

*****

“You got any 1-900-Spooky calls tonight?”

Scully reveled in peeking at Mulder as his head swiveled and eyes widened in the glow of cartoon reruns.

“Not that I know,” he bantered, game on, “I’ve been too busy wondering where my partner went. She's been missing since pilfering three candies from the pail in Kim's office--”

“Mulder, I did not take three--”

“--and didn't call until she showed up at my door, candy indulgent with half an assorted bag gone, a street urchin cover story, and party favors she bought but decided were less interesting than a rerun of Looney Tunes.”

The aforementioned ‘she’ would not be ruffled in her victory. “If I recall, Mulder-- and you’ll have to forgive me because my memory is a bit fuzzy about our recovery in McMurdo Station--”

Mulder’s face blanked, dread spilling from his eyes and collecting in the tight corners of his half-opened mouth.

“--but you said, and I quote: ‘There’s no other frosty I’d want to come down from a sugar high with’.”

“And as I recall,” his mood recovering with a quiet intake, outtake of air, “you said: ‘Tapering off of intravenous dextrose does not count as a sugar high, Mulder’.”

Scully popped another (the last) chocolate piece into her mouth. “It doesn’t. But I figured this does.”

Facing him fully, she watched Mulder’s expression softly undergo a few layered revolutions before he hemmed out a tender, “Like I said, there’s no other frosty--”

“No, Mulder. ‘Frosty’ died when you said the definition of solid stool would never be the same.”

"I still stand by my theory, Scully. It isn't the same."

Neither of them needed to say that Antarctica changed more than that. Sitting on Mulder’s body-warmed couch as their blood jumped in chaotic glucose spikes, they felt life and hope thrum between them.

"No, it isn't."

******

"Who knew that Looney Tunes could be so..." Mulder shook his head.

"Dark?"

"Yeah."

Scully stared, baffled. "Mulder, are you telling me you've never seen this episode?"

"You enjoyed this?"

"...Yes."

They both sat in silence while Mel Blanc belted out a chorus of tormented screams.

"...Well, it's not The Exorcist, but I can see the similarities."

"Mulder, they're nothing alike. ...Mulder. Go back, it's just getting good."

******

Scully knew Mulder spent his life counting the costs of his work: the X-Files weren’t theirs yet, his partner was robbed of a chance to stroll the streets with her own tiny ghost or goblin, and he would inevitably wake the next day and writhe some more on the tenterhook until, until, until. But every time her partner fiddled with his sproinging party headband (a twin to the outlandish one he'd found in the loot bag and good-heartedly smashed on her head-- “Matchy, matchy”) and flashed her his gleaming pearly-white-and-caramel teeth, Scully knew that he knew that she was still on the journey with him.

If I quit now, they win. And she wouldn’t quit, not on him.

*****

Thank you for reading~

Enjoy!

Tagging @today-in-fic and @xffictober2023 and @fictober-event

#txf #fic #Time Passing in Moments #Fictober #2023 #Day 4 #mine #Looney Tunes (it could count as scary movie right?)#thank you to my first prompt anon!#I wrote fluff! I WROTE FLUFF #which is ironic because I read mostly (only) fluff and avoid angst unless in a one-week-a-month mood #but yay! Fluff!#Mulder #Scully #FTF #Halloween #Looney Tunes

15 notes · View notes

cyber-streak-extra · 8 months

Text

Angst blast!! The ITP: Happy Ending AU was made by @maraariana01

Title: Gone

[TW: Character Death]

[TW: Blood]

The bunny was going alone. He’d been wandering for a while. After having managed to explain the situation to Jackie and Thomas the best he could, the bunny wanted them and Jinx to stay behind.

He promised that he was going to bring back their son.

He didn’t know much about the bear—really, he didn’t know anything, besides the fact that he was a Freddy, that he was dangerous, and that he had taken his son for a reason unknown to the bunny.

Oswald was a good kid. He hadn’t done anything wrong—in general, or anything that could lead into him getting captured by a Freddy—which the bunny still didn’t know what he wanted to do.

The bunny still felt like it was his fault for the capture—as he wandered, he could still feel himself leaking from his eyes. He should’ve been there with his son—maybe he could’ve stopped it before the Freddy got in.

Even if he hadn’t, the bunny still felt that, with how everything really happened, that he could’ve done something. He just didn’t know what.

Just... just hold on, son. The wandering bunny thought, wiping at his eyes—which felt useless, as the leaking just kept going. I’ll be there soon, I promise. You’ll be okay.

He didn’t have any clues as to where the Freddy could’ve taken his son. He never saw any clues back at the house, or any place closest, so the bunny had settled on checking everywhere. He needed to find the two.

As he wandered, the bunny attempted to ignore some of his thoughts—the more unpleasant ones. Ones involving Oswald, ones of the past. But they always came back. They always returned to him.

What is the animatronic doing to him? His mind asked. Am I already too late? Will I be too late? How is my son? Is he still okay? How is he feeling? Is he scared? I’ll be there soon. He didn’t know that.

Scared... Oswald. He’d seen his son scared before in the past. Most of those moments happened to be the boy being scared of something small—like a spider that managed to get into his room, and ended up spooking him.

What came to mind, though, was back when the bunny was still pretending to be Thomas. Oswald... his son... the boy had seemed scared. Scared of the events unfolding—it wasn’t everyday that something like this happened.

...Scared of him.

Oswald had been scared of him. He had hurt his that night—he hadn’t meant to... but it still happened. He saw the fear and pain in his son. He had to wear a cast for a while after that.

Spring Bonnie had caused that. He had hurt his son. He had scared him. He remembered the last time a kid had been scared of him. When he had hurt them—despite not wanting to.

When he had come and worn him. The kids would never know that the bunny hadn’t wanted to do that—that he cares for them, wanted them to be safe—that it wasn’t really him doing it.

They had been scared of him until the end.

...

Oswald sat up right in bed, startled awake by a noise—it sounded like his door. Rubbing his eyes, and letting out a yawn, the boy got out of his bed, and walked over.

Taking a closer look, even if it was dark without the light on, he noticed how the door was locked—and obviously, someone was trying to get in. He didn’t remember locking it.

Maybe he did it without realizing? “Hold on,” Oswald spoke up, before unlocking the door, and backing up. A second passed, before the door was finally opened.

He saw Spring Bonnie standing there—and even in the dark, he could tell that a liquid was leaking from his eyes—it looked creepy in the darkness. “Spring Bonnie?” Oswald frowned.

Spring Bonnie fully stepped into the room, where Oswald was immediately scooped up by the bunny, and brought into a hug. His ears were lowered.

Although he was confused, Oswald hugged him back. What happened? A nightmare, maybe? That was his tired self’s first thought. But he doubted it—he’d never seen Spring Bonnie sleep—he didn’t seem to need it.

What had happened?

...

Spring Bonnie had assumed that it would take much, much longer—but, rather fortunately, it had taken less. He’d gotten some tips from some people as he wandered.

Apparently, the Freddy wasn’t all that good at sneaking around—he was loud, for one thing. He’d been running around, Oswald in his grasp, as he seemed to try to be finding someplace.

A giant, broken, animatronic bear wandering around with a child was something that you wouldn’t just forget after witnessing it, Spring Bonnie supposed.

With all of that help (Spring Bonnie made sure to thank all of them), the bunny had eventually made his way to an old, closed, and abandoned building—he didn’t know what it had originally been used for, but it seemed pretty big.

One of the was open just a little bit—like someone had forgotten to close and lock it. The bunny went through the door, and ended up in an empty, long corridor—he continued on his way.

It felt like the corridor just went on forever. But, fortunately, the bunny eventually reached another door, and he stepped through it.

Now, looking around, he seemed to be in what was an old storage room—there were a few boxes, three at most—but nothing else. The room was still pretty empty. It was only those boxes, himself, and...

Spring Bonnie tensed, his eyes widening. Leaning against the wall to the right of him, was the Freddy. He looked excited. He looked happy. Oswald was there, too, in the bear’s grasp.

He was... his son was still. He was still. The boy’s own eyes were widened. Red. Spring Bonnie saw red on the ground, specifically below his son. Oswald...! No, no...

He couldn’t see how bad it was, due to where he was standing, and how the Freddy’s arm was wrapped around him, but it seemed like most of it was coming from his son’s abdomen.

That was the main source of it, Spring Bonnie noticed, but he could see blood trickling down and out one of Oswald’s sleeves. A part of the boy’s pants, near the ankle, was stained, and he could see more trickling down.

Son...!

...

Funtime Freddy had been listening to the steady drip, drip, drip, that the blood made as it fell, when he heard footsteps—looking up, he smirked at the sight of the bunny, eyes glowing brightly.

“I see you’re here for your Little Ocelot, Bun-Bun!” The bear laughed, voice glitching once, maybe twice, in the process. “He wasn’t going to pick... so I picked for him!”

The bunny rushed towards the two.

Funtime Freddy knew what he wanted. The bear already had his fun—he’d already done what he’d wanted—and it was only a matter of time. Unlike Millie’s, this one was somewhat slow.

When the bunny reached him, Funtime Freddy didn’t stop Spring Bonnie from taking the boy from him. He just watched, chuckling to himself.

...

Spring Bonnie cradled the boy in his arms, leaking. He could see the injuries more clearly now. They weren’t good. The blood continuing dripping. Some of it was starting to get on the bunny.

No, no! Oswald... Oz, don’t! Stay! The bunny didn’t want to see him go motionless. He didn’t want to lose his son. Thoughts were screaming at the bunny loudly.

You’ll be okay! One was repeating over and over. Repeated begs, repeated reassurances, repeated apologies for this unfolding. I love you, son. However, everything went unsaid and un-written.

One arm was wrapped around Oswald’s back as he held his son against his chest—the other was against his abdomen. He didn’t think that was doing anything. Except for staining his hand.

Oswald moved. His hand lifted up, and grabbed at the bunny’s hand that was on top—most likely for comfort. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to say.

One glance at his son, and within his son’s eyes... Spring Bonnie could see the fear. The pain. Oswald didn’t deserve this.

...

Funtime Freddy, originally having been watching from the same spot, finally decided to move forward. Granting Millie’s ‘wish’ had gotten rid of his boredom—and so had this—this was far more interesting.

As he started approaching the bunny, he watched as, ever so carefully, Spring Bonnie placed the boy down—giving him what seemed to be a forehead kiss in the process.

Spring Bonnie stood back up to his full height, standing protectively in front of his boy, Funtime Freddy noticed. He also noticed when the bunny’s jaw unhinged.

...

Spring Bonnie was alone in the building. Mostly. Now, it had just become him and... Oswald!

The bunny turned around, spotting his son right where he had left him a few minutes ago. He lay there, not moving. Red... there was a puddle of blood formed underneath his son, caused from the injuries.

Spring Bonnie ran, eyes and other areas leaking, rapidly falling and hitting the ground, somewhat staining it.

He fell to his knees after reaching his son, pulling Oswald close. He had noticed the red on his hands from earlier. Oswald...? He gently shook the boy’s shoulder a few times. No response.

His eyes were closed. Oswald was still. His son didn’t move. He was motionless. He wasn’t making any movement. Spring Bonnie couldn’t hear him breathing, nor could he see his chest rising and falling. Nothing moved.

No... Spring Bonnie held his son closer to his chest, the liquid continuing to hit the floor—and parts of Oswald’s clothes. No! His son wasn’t moving. He wasn’t opening his eyes. He wasn’t waking up.

Please, no... Spring Bonnie could feel his own body shaking. Unlike his son, he was moving. He was moving. Oswald wasn’t. He wasn’t going to do so again—he wasn’t going to talk—he wasn’t going to do anything—because the bunny had been too late. He’d failed his son.

He had promised Jackie and Thomas that he would bring their son back—that Oswald would be fine—something he had repeatedly told himself. But he wasn’t. He’d failed his son. And he’d not kept his promise to Thomas and Jackie. He failed them, too.

His son was gone.

#Fic #Story #Into The Pit #ITP: Happy Ending AU #<<Certainly not that right now with this #Fnaf #Angst #Spring Bonnie #Oswald #Count The Ways #Funtime Freddy #Cyber’s Chatter #Styx’s Chatter #Anubis’s Chatter #I love writing angst

12 notes · View notes

eleventeenratsinaflannelsuit · 1 year

Text

Here have another grian au with some good old fanart.

uh, good luck actually translating the au description?

yeah i memorised it for fun in 8th grade, don't worry, definitely not mentally stable

his alignment is chaotic lawful - he follows the rules. his rules. his own loopholes to his own rules. no one has any idea what his morals are.

35 notes · View notes

bsaka7 · 1 year

Text

to sing or cry | charles/alex | 3.4k

Alex shows up one week with a bird book and the next with binoculars.

#this is a fic about birding and it wasnt even a fic i had in my head about birding BEFORE starting to write it #i was debating adding a third section but i wasnt sure how it would play #truly my chest is all. tight and happy writing this #even tho its like. idk. not a lot happens #you can read it a lot of ways i think idk #also like i do loveeeeeeeeeeeee gentle folky kind of sad love songs lol #thank u to everyone who gave me suggestions on what to write...i may still write chesteban or cheb idk.......#this is just what came out of me first #ALSO WTF U CAN EDIT TAGS NOW??? I EDITED ONE BY ACCIDENT??? U CANT DO THIS ON MOBILE LMAO #I am going to TRY and respond to ao3 comments now #i love and appreciate u all so much <333 #oh right i was going to say idk if this counts as fluff. sorry about that lol #but its NOT ANGST. in my opinion.#you can make up your OWN opinion.

38 notes · View notes

boatemboys · 13 days

Text

i forgot how much i like ahasbands/redwood?? whatever. theyre so domestic they make me sick

#jasper speaks #i always call them ahasbands but i saw someone say redwood which is cute but i prefer ahasbands #anyway. i think grumbo will always be my favourite mumbo ship but the pros of being a multishipper is everyone wins #i like to think they both have little copper rings. martyn keeps his orange and mumbos goes bluegreen #martyn keeps his orange because it reminds him of the spyglasses and last life as a whole #mumbo forgot about it and it turned bluegreen over time (except he didnt actually forget about it #the bluegreen reminds him of martyns warden parts)#i also think mumbo would keep his ring like. in a chest or in a pocket #because he doesnt like how rings feel (wow wonder where he got that from) (its me)#he keeps it in his pocket unless hes in a place where he could easily drop it and not realise (such as redstone or flying long distances)#in which case he'll put it in his ender chest #i could make some angst thing about martyn thinking mumbo hates him for making his ring dirty and keeping it buried in a chest #and mumbos just totally oblivious #what the fuck is my warden martyn tag again. this counts right #warden martyn rambles #i need to stop burying all of this in tags

4 notes · View notes

khai-luvs-to-write · 1 year

Text

"You didn't deserve to hear that."

This is why you don’t connect with people from your past. Because then you end up in a situation like this, just like it was all those years ago. Except now, you’re much older than you were the previous time, but just as vulnerable.

Reunions. Most of them were filled with joy, nostalgia, and the feeling of catching up with someone after a long time. This…was none of the following. You had moved from your old elementary school due to housing and the unbearable bullying by your peers. Once transferring into UA, you had a sense of belonging. It took you a while to trust and get used to, but everyone treated you nicely, they way you should be treated. So it was a snap back when you went to your elementary school reunion.

You knew it was sketchy when you got an invitation from one of the students that used to bully you, but you thought that maybe, just maybe they changed. There was that small sliver of hope that they had changed, and realized what they did to you was wrong, and apologized, or treated you better than they did before.

You had told your boyfriend of the invitation a week in advance, and asked him to go with you as a precaution. He agreed, and you told Mr. Aizawa in advance that you two would be going, and the location of the party. And because neither of you have the ability to drive, you two were driven to the location of both the party and a lot of your emotional baggage. Your Elementary/Middle School. You can feel a pit in your stomach fill with dread as the distance between you, your boyfriend, and your childhood school shortens. Finally believing you made a mistake, you begin to turn and walk away from the entrance, but with great hesitance. Your boyfriend noticed that you hesitated and grabbed your hand, squeezing it lightly, bringing you back into reality.

“Are you okay?” he asked. He had worry written all over his face, but in your defense, when doesn’t he? He’s like the second dad of Class 1-A, he’s always worried. You look up and give him a weak smile, and manage to mumble quietly.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

The two of you walk through the front office, the pre-k and kindergarten hallway, the doors leading to the playground, the first and third grade classrooms, the second grade classrooms, the bathroom by the cafeteria(where everything went down) and finally through the cafeteria entrance, in that order. That small pit of dread in your stomach slowly turned into a pool, almost as big as the one at that school, as everyone, the people that bullied you, the people you barely talked to, and the people you considered friends sat in almost silence and stared as you walked into the cafeteria, and took a seat at one of the lunch tables, the one by the podium, that you always sat at throughout 5th, 6th, and early 7th grade. At that point, it was the one of the only things that cafeteria that gave you a sense of peace, and nostalgia, considering that you and your boyfriend did not go to the same school together before now, but then again you guys are only in high school, so there is a huge possibility he did, and you just…didn’t notice, and part of you is thankful you didn’t, if he did go to the school you did when you were younger. You had so much on your plate at such a young age, no wonder you are the way you are now. You were taken off your train of thought by a rather unpleasant voice.

“Wow, I didn’t think you’d actually show up! Hey guys, look! They’re here!” one of your old bullies points you out to everyone there, causing the spotlight to fall on you. Everyone turns to look at you once again, almost instantly, and it feels like their eyes are just…burning holes into every part of your body. You feel a hand on your knee, and they tap twice on your kneecap. You look over to Iida, and tap on his shoulder twice with your index finger, signaling you’re okay, and can hold it out for a little bit longer. He smiles at you, and you two continue going about your business at that table. You scooch over a bit and signal him to follow, and you show him what's behind the podium. Behind the fake wood, halfway broken podium are some books you’ve read when you used to go here, and all the drawings you managed to hide in between the planks. Mid conversation, one of your bullies both interrupts and ignores you completely, turning their attention to Iida.

“So, what brings you here, big guy? I don’t remember you going here.” She looked him up and down, as low as you can go in an elementary school lunch table. “Well, that’s because I didn’t.” His answer was short, dry, and from your point of view, somewhat cold. Your boyfriend was unfazed, but she was persistent. “Well, tell me about yourself! Where are you from? What brings you to your elementary/middle school?” she leaned in closer, to him, acting as if you weren’t there. This happened before, with someone who used to be your best friend, who was watching all of this go down as they spoke, and said nothing. Iida kept trying to be as dry and show as much disinterest as possible without being impolite, but your bully was making it difficult. Then she finally dropped the facade after several minutes of pressing, and pushing. “Fine! I don’t know what you see in that lost cause of a person, they should’ve taken the advice half our class gave them all those years ago.” and walked toward the table all your other bullies were sitting at, and began talking like normal. Tenya was going to go over and say something, but you tugged at the sleeve of his button up, causing him to sit back down next to you. “It’s fine, Ten. Really. I’m used to it, it’s not that big a deal anymore.” You tapped his shoulder twice again, this time with your pinky finger, signaling you wanted to leave as soon as possible. You waited until everyone was preoccupied, got phone numbers from a couple of people, said your goodbyes to said people and discreetly left, making sure that you leaving did not become a subject of conversation, something else for you to sit and through. You guys left through one of the side doors, the one next to one of the three second grade classrooms, down the hall from the nurse’s office, and called someone to come pick you up. While waiting for that person to arrive, Iida asked you a very serious question. “One of your classmates said that it would’ve been better if you had taken the advice that half the class had given you? What does that mean, and if half the class advised it, why didn’t you listen?” your body immediately tensed up at the question. Why didn’t I listen? Why did they give me that advice in the first place? What could I have done that was so bad that they all hated me? What did I do at such a young age to deserve that type of treatment? Once again, you are pulled out of your thoughts with a double-tap on your kneecap. You non verbally reply with the same response as before, a double-tap on the shoulder with your pinky, followed by a triple-tap with your thumb, signaling you want to go home asap, and you two will talk later. As a follow-up, Iida grabbed your hand, intertwined your fingers with his, and replied with a simple but soft, “Okay.” before kissing the back of your hand, leaving the two of you to enjoy the rest of the sunset in silence until your ride arrived.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Tenya guided you to his room, after checking in with Aizawa, and sat down on his bed. For a while you just stood there in front of him, staring at your feet. You were silent and dazed, almost as if you were stuck in your own head, trying to free yourself from the grip of your thoughts. He slowly and gently took your hands, grabbing your attention, and let go. The moment you looked up at him he offered you a hug, and you obliged. The moment his arms closed around you, you just melted into it. “So…” he broke the silence. “Do you feel comfortable enough to tell me what she was talking about today?” you shrugged, and gave in telling him everything, with the occasional moment of tears. While you expected him to judge you, or try to turn it on you like everyone else did, he hugged you a little tighter, and whispered into your ear.

“You didn’t deserve to hear that, especially at such a young age. You did nothing wrong, love, and I’m glad you stayed.”

In that moment it was almost like his words were a piece of wood underneath a pipe filled with water because once he said that, you began to cry again. Despite all your loud sobbing, and the wet sniffles, he stayed in that position, and rubbed your back, until you fell asleep.

[A/N] WOOOOOAHHHH what a surplus in words, I haven't written this much in soooo long, but this goes to prove that the stuff I write is based off the music I listen to. Plus the description of the childhood school is actually based off of my childhood school, as well as the bullies(so I may have projected just a little bit but who's really paying attention?) but I wrote this in the middle of the night, it took me around two hours, (11:30-ish pm to 1:44am) I'm really sleepy. (the words on my screen are starting to look funky and my right eye hurts to the point where i feel it in the back of my head help) Until next time!

-Khai :)

1,685 words, including the authors note.

#this is my first time writing angst did I do it right?#khai.writes #khai.cries #khai.blabs #bnha x gender neutral reader #tenya iida x reader #tenya x reader #iida x reader #iida x reader angst #hurt/comfort #does this even count as hurt/comfort I have no clue #writing this did hurt a little though.#atp I am waaaaaaaaaay to tired to care right now I'm going to BED. goodnight.

31 notes · View notes