Angst Fic - Blog Posts

Summary: Sylus doesn't like you coming home injured Characters/Pairing: Sylus x GN!Reader Word Count: 391 Warnings: Mention of minor injury A/N: I'm trying a new way of formatting so pls bear with me lol

"Why didn't you call me?

"I didn't want to worry you..."

"What worries me is that you think I wouldn't drop everything in a heartbeat to help you, sweetie." Sylus' warm palm caressed your cheek before gripping your face between his fingers. With his gentle yet stern hold on your face, he carefully inspected every inch of your skin. The most damage he managed to find consisted of the cut that embedded itself in your brow with the swelling of your soon to be black eye to compliment it. You flinch and he takes careful note of how much pressure he should apply when taking care of your wounds.

It was nothing bad. A low-level wanderer had caught you off guard during your routine stroll around the area surrounding the man's safehouse in the N109 zone. You knew you should have told Sylus where you were going, but you simply assumed Mephisto would keep his watchful eye on you as he usually does. Besides, you had taken that path more than a hundred times (that was an exaggeration) and there was never a wanderer in sight, other than today of course.

"It's really nothing, Sy." The nickname flows of your tongue with a small sigh. It always ignited something within him, keeping Sylus on the edge of his seat. Your voice was the purest melody, blessing his ears like any angel would. His steady hands pulled your face close, slightly chapped lips brushing against yours before he rested cheek against yours. Although he seemed big and bad, Sylus was utterly wrapped around your fingers. He shook his head, and you swore his frown deepened just the slightest bit.

"It's not nothing... You are injured." He spoke sternly, "And you didn't think to come to me first." Your eyes widened and face fell into a pitiful frown. You trusted Sylus, but the thought of being a burden lingered in the back of your mind. Instead, you simply nodded and swallowed back your words as those crimson eyes stared deep into your eyes. You would never live down this feeling, the guilt that would bare its claws deep into your back. But for now, you shook the feeling away and let the older man tend to your stinging wounds, relishing in the warmth of his palms and the depth of his gruff voice.

The Devil Wears Yellow

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5???

Chloe could not stand you. Over the past month that you had been attending the same school as her, she had grown a rather distinct hatred for you, stemming from the relationship blooming between you and Adrien. She noticed the sweet smile on your face every time you spoke to him, the way your fingers seemed to brush when he would lean over to your side of the desk. She could distinctly remember the way you elbowed him in the side for trying to copy your answers, his bashful laugh as he searched for an excuse of his copying. It was infuriating and unfair. Her thoughts were suddenly cut off as an unexpected voice called out to her. 

"Madame Chloe, the car is waiting for you," Chloe's butler, or as she called him 'Jean-whatever-your-name-is', alerted the girl from behind her bedroom door, his knuckles wrapping against it with a gentle knock. 

The blonde girl let out an obnoxious groan, yanking her yellow jacket on over the top of her black and white striped shirt. As overly dramatic as usual, she shoved the door open, ultimately pushing the poor man down and storming to the front of the hotel. She got in the white limousine and left for school.

~~~

The next day started the same as all the others. You struggled pulling yourself out of bed, showered in cold water despite how much it made your joints ached and then returned to getting dress. Today you wore a knee brace on your right knee, favouring your left more than usual. You were yet to notice the effect that the miraculous had on you outside of your hero persona. Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge you didn't bother waking your parents to say goodbye. Reaching for your bag as you stood just in front of the front door, you took one look back into the house before you simply left, not giving the house a second look. You were starting to grow tired of the same routine. Waking up, leaving the house with no goodbye, going to school and then returning to a battle against an akuma that you weren't even allowed to fight yet. Part of you wanted to get your hands dirty, aching and yearning for the adrenaline that would rush through your system whenever there was a slight mention of a supposed akumatization. 

While the walk itself wasn't long, it felt as if it took an hour. You were tired from the nights work. Akuma's had become rare, and you were still yet to properly face one without just lending the occasional hand of whisking away surrounding citizens so they wouldn't get hurt. With each day that had passed you had easily memorised the walk to school, rarely needing your own mind to take you there when your legs already knew the way. Letting your feet guide you, your mind started to wander a bit.

The truce you made a few weeks back flashed through your mind. You hadn't really interacted with Chat Noir since then, but you were sure something had changed between the two of you. You recognised his small glances towards you, instead of being greeted with sharp eyes, they were more curious. Although he was still jealous of you, envious of the attention you received from Ladybug, you were proud to say that you no longer thought that the feline heroine hated you. Your last patrol together was the night before. He didn't speak much, but when he did, it didn't seem to come out as harsh as usual. He was a strange boy, that was for sure. 

Not realising that you'd already made it to your class, you almost walked into the door. Shaking your head, you pushed open the door and stepped inside. What you were yet to notice was the blonde girl standing next to the doorway, her foot sticking out just enough to make contact with your ankle. The connection sent you tumbling to the ground with little to no witnesses other than Sabrina. Your water bottle rolled across the hardwood floor. The blonde smirked down at you. She found an empty joy in watching you crumple to the floor, falling to pieces from such a simple manoeuvre. 

"Whoops!" she feigned shock, "Maybe you should watch where you're going next time, foreigner." The smirk on her face made you feel sick. For the first time in years, you felt humiliated. You didn't have the time to process the hurt that you felt, both physically and somewhat mentally. Putting on a brave face, you pulled yourself to your feet, favouring your left side to the point your leg buckled slightly under your weight. "Listen, I don't understand what I have done to you that makes you believe tripping me over is the answer," you began, "I'm sure there's a good person inside that heart of yours." 

Your words made her crystal eyes widen momentarily. They seemed to hit a vulnerable spot within her, but as soon as it came to her it disappeared. "You don't know what you're talking about. You are ridiculous!" She huffed, easily hiding the slight pang of guilt she felt under a snobby mask. Sabrina looked at you, her eyes were the window to her soul. Guilt was plastered on her face, leaking from her pores with every second she stood near you. Yet, the girl did nothing to defend or help you. She simply pulled her head down and held Chloe's books tighter to her chest. You never liked being forgiving, but you would have forgiven the two with a simple apology or explanation even if it wasn't to your standards. You rolled your eyes, moving from the door to place your bag next to your desk in its usual spot. Gaining no reaction from you, Chloe left without sparing a second glance, practically dragging Sabrina out by the wrist. 

You regretted coming to school so early. Tears threatened to fall as you finally let the weight of the situation fall upon your shoulders. You truly couldn't think of what you had done to Chloe. In fact, it wasn't until today that you had properly spoken before. Taking in one last shaking breath, you wiped your eyes with the sleeves of your sweater. There was no point in letting her words or actions get the better of you. If you were to be akumatized, who knows what would happen. Rolling your right ankle under the desk you bit down on your bottom lip. She didn't sprain your ankle, but it definitely left you with a jolt of pain when you moved. You hoped it would go away on its own, not needing the extra pain when your knee was already burning. 

The opening of the door pulled you from your thoughts. Quicky wiping your eyes, you scrambled to pull your textbook from your bag. Your hands shook from the previous interactions, almost making you drop the pencil you held.

Curious eyes stared down at you as the young man made his way to his seat. He sat down next to you, flashing his usual friendly smile. He spoke your name, and you finally looked up. Graced by the solemn look on your face, Adrien frowned. The two of you had grown rather closer over this last month, exchanging numbers and often riding home together. He knew to an extent the struggles you faced each day, but he had never seen you look so disappointed and dejected. 

"Are you alright?" 

The words hit you like a harsh wave, stinging as it crashed against your warm skin. Instead of answering, you simply sighed. Although the desire to understand the situation, to ultimately make you feel better, burnt deep within the core of his chest, Adrien hesitated. He nodded. "I understand. I'm here." His warm palm brushed against your shoulder once again, however instead of pulling away like you typically did, you leaned into it. 

The blonde boy's eyes widened, his breath hitching in his throat. He had never really had such a seamless interaction with the someone. The warmth of your shoulder spread throughout his palm, coursing through his veins as if it were his own blood, his lifeline. His reaction didn't go unnoticed to you, although you were much too busy sulking about the previous situation. A heavy distaste for the rich girl sat in the pit of your stomach. Not even Adrien could pull you out of that hatred.  

~~~

The day was over almost as soon as it begun. After your little interaction with Adrien earlier, he had promised to take you to the park after school. His simple excuse to his father, with the bribery of his bodyguard, was that fencing practice just so happened to be running late. It was the entire reason you were walking next to him, chortling at the jokingly snide comment he had made about the ladybug pin on your bag. You could only assume he was joking. 

"What? Do you really believe that Chat Noir is better?" You rose a brow, simply teasing the other. The look of pride that flashed through his eyes made your playful façade falter. You shook it off as nothing, the small upturn of his lips distracting you from your own scepticism. There was something about his little scoff that made your stomach flutter. It felt so familiar, yet at the same time so out of reach. You chalked it back to another time you had hung out, maybe you had heard him scoff that way when he drove you home? You shook your head and turned your attention towards the taller boy. 

He rolled his eyes slightly, a sight you didn't see often under the guise of his bodyguard. "Of course! He's so much cooler than Ladybug and Clementine," that made your eyes widen, "Plus, his cat puns are hilarious. I just don't get how you can't see that." The boy shrugged. Adrien had completely dissed your alter ego straight to your face. You kept your reaction hidden deep. Perhaps the next time Clementine had patrol, they might pay a visit to the blonde boy and teach him what true humour was. You nudged him with your elbow as you both walked along the cement path. You still limped from the earlier incident, but it luckily didn't hurt as much as it typically did. "Clementine is the coolest, thank you very much! And Ladybug can literally repair everything with some like, magical ass words. How is that not cool?" 

Adrien blushed, the tips of his ears flushing red as you nudged him. He wasn't entirely sure why he felt like this. He assumed it was because you were good friends. Yeah... that was the reason. 

~~~

Your debate lasted until you two found yourself in front of your home. It seemed cold, most likely due to your parents being in their own separate places. Ever since you began to manage your won diagnoses, they began to lay off of you a bit. What used to seem overbearing and protective had turned into minimal interactions and borderline neglect. 

Turning to face Adrien, you offered him a sweet smile. "Thank you... For today, I mean. This meant a lot." You weren't lying when you said that. The whole interaction with Chloe had left you rather down in the dumps and it seemed he was the only person to truly pull you out of it. He returned your sweet smile with a boyish grin of your own. The way you looked at him in that moment with nothing, but pure gratitude and care made his heart race dangerously fast. 

He shook his head quickly, golden locks flickering in front of his eyes before settling to frame his face. He was always picture perfect. "It's what friends are for." Those words stung, but once again you were dumbfounded as to why. Adrien held your bag out for you to grab, you couldn't remember when he had taken it, but you were grateful, nonetheless. Muttering another soft 'thank you', you let your fingers linger on his. The soft caress of his plush skin against you had your mouth running dry. Quickly pulling away, you finally spoke up.

"Call me when you get home." 

You left no room for an answer, gripping your bag so tight that your knuckles had shifted from their usual flushed colour to a pale white. The door shut and you retreated to your room. 

Adrien stood outside of your house; his mouth slightly open with unsaid words. That was uncharacteristically odd, but he simply assumed you didn't want your parents to meet him. He was understanding of the relationship you held with your parental figures, so he didn't plan on pressing anytime soon. Instead, he began his way home, the only though on his mind being the way your fingers left a lasting spark in his palm. 

Word Count: 2151

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Mountain

Summary: You're sick of being Peter's therapist Characters/Pairing: Peter x Fem!Reader Word Count: 420 Warnings: light angst, use of the word mum once A/N: why are all my old fics so short :((

"I cannot keep doing this for you." Your words started soft. The conversation was inevitable. The lost sleep, stolen from the spider itself, the trauma and consequences that followed were catching up to the both of you. Peter knew it was coming sooner or later.

"I can not keep taking care of you every night. You can't expect this from me." You placed your bag down on the kitchen counter, the contents beginning to fall out.

"I never expected it from you-" He tried to say. Your hands gripped the counter, knuckles white in pure anger.

"But you did! Every single night you came through my fire escape, bleeding out and sobbing, delirious! And single every night I would fix you up. Even when I was sick, or in pain or hurt, I always patched you up. It isn't fair that you expect this from me." Your words came out rushed, heart hammering against your chest. Rough hands touched your shoulders, trying to calm you down but you pushed them away. Your words were finally caught in your throat, a sob bubbling in your chest like an unruly potion in a cauldron.

"I am not your fucking therapist!" You yelled, "I am not your own personal nurse, or your mum!"

Peter stood dumbfounded at your words. There was no going back from this argument, and he knew it. Besides, you were right. He had expected you to help him. He believed that since you were his forever loving and caring partner that you were willing to risk your own mental health over his physical health. Yet, you couldn't. There was no universe where this would end well.

Attempting to reach out once again, Peter exhaled shakily and gently touched your shoulder. "Please..." He spoke, squeezing your joint through the fleece jacket, "I can fix this. I promise, I can fix all of this. Just give me another chance." The brunettes' words were beginning to sound panicked, yet you couldn't care anymore. He was the cause of your emotional turmoil for the past year. You were no longer willing to be the one to bear the consequences of his actions, especially when you were on the brink of your own emotional demise outside of your relationship with the man.

"No," you shook your head, "I'm done."

The corners of your lips turned up in a hateful and tight-lipped smile. Seeing his distraught expression made you feel powerful, your decision to leave now set in stone. Peter felt you slip through his fingers, watching with nothing but helplessness now as you walked towards the front door. Reaching for your keys, you turned back once more.

"Goodbye, Peter."

Rotten

Summary: You're sick of Miguel treating you like shit Characters/Pairing: Miguel x GN!Reader Word Count: 342 Warnings: angst, Miguel deserves a jump scare warning in everything A/N: why are all my old fics so short :((

"Everything I did was to protect you!"

Those words were etched into your brain. How dare he tell you that. He hasn't thought of you since your wedding night.

Every day you heard the same excuse for why Miguel wasn't at home. Lyla would send a message, 'Sorry, Miguel won't be coming home tonight, work is keeping him late.' Every single day! It was pathetic and you knew it. You stuck around because, 'love conquers all', right? Fucking wrong.

Today you had finally had enough. You had bottled so much anger that all you could do now was boil. Your face grew red, cheeks hot in pure rage. You could hear your own blood rushing through your body in tidal waves, adrenaline causing your heart to thud against your chest. Your stomach felt like it had flipped inside out.

"For me? Oh, Miguel. You have done nothing for me!" The words slipped out faster than your mind could think. "You have been a selfish, piece of shit since the moment I met you. It just only took me two years to fucking notice." Your feet moved forward and before you realised your finger was hitting his chest with every word that slipped past your swollen lips.

Angry tears poured down your cheeks. "I have waited. I have been patient! I have let you dump your sob story on me. I did everything to make sure that you weren't going fucking crazy! I sacrificed my own fucking sanity for you! God, how I wish I had of ran away the day that I married you."

Your words hit him like knives in the pit of his stomach. His mouth ran dry. It was the first time you had ever seen him entirely speechless. Usually he had an excuse, but you supposed he had used them up in the two years you were married.

"Nothing to say, yeah? Guess you wasted all your excuses. You don't deserve me, Miguel O'Hara."

That was the last night you saw Miguel O'Hara and you were happy about it.

If your angst ship doesn’t fit:

“I can’t love you, anymore” vs “I can’t love you any more”

Then is it even that good of an angst ship?

You in my blurred memories

{Yes, I am back with another fic, this one being angst! Maybe I’ll make something happy in the future? As for now, enjoy this angst~ -Kaveh Also, Tw for vivid descriptions of d3ath, yelling, cursing (?), and swords}

It was seemingly another day of Kaveh not being home. Alhaitham thought nothing of it, not expecting anything strange of it or weird. He was almost never home, it became a nightly occurrence. He would wake up, they would eat breakfast together (and he would listen to his “annoying” rants that he may or may not secretly enjoy), and kiss Alhaitham goodbye, and exit the house. He usually would be back by midnight, only to repeat the process once more. A cycle the both of them grew accustomed to. Sure it was strange, but it was uniquely theirs.

Tonight was different. It was soon midnight, and no sign of Kaveh. He decided to wait longer. 1 am. 2 am. No sign of him yet. Alhaitham grabbed the keys to the house and left. He thought of one place he would be, the tavern. Maybe he’s drunk. He thought. Maybe he had too much to drink and passed out… the thought of him being in such state worried him. It wasn’t until he rounded the corner where he saw a sight he wished to unsee.

“Al…hai…tham” A familiar voice croaked. Blood on the streets, a sword to his stomach. No…no, this is just some nightmare, right? “Kaveh!” Alhaitham cried out. The once stoic mask he wore broke. He dashed to Kaveh’s side. “Who did this to you?!” He asked, his question being answered with shadows.

“YOU BASTARDS” Alhaitham yelled. He saw red, sword now in his hands. “YOU FUCKERS WILL PAY FOR THIS!” He yelled while fighting off the ones who stabbed Kaveh. Bodies now on the floor, Alhaitham’s sword stained with their blood. His attention turned to Kaveh, who seemed to be trying to hang on. “Wait here, I’ll get hel-“ “No, it’s too late” Kaveh interrupted. “Don’t say that Kaveh, it’s not too late! You can be-“ “No. I can’t be saved this time, Alhiatham.” Alhaitham was silenced for a moment before saying “You…you can’t leave me too…Kaveh plea-“ “Do me a favor. Forget me” Kaveh says, before coughing, blood now covering his sleeve. “Kaveh…” Alhaitham says, stunned.

Footsteps were heard approaching. Kaveh took out the sword from his stomach, going to the group of people out for him. “Kaveh, what are you-“ He then froze. There’s no way…Kaveh had a look of determination mixed with a grimace of pain. “If I’m gonna die, I’m dying a hero” Kaveh says with determination. He had no idea what came over him. Perhaps it was the adrenaline, or perhaps the drinks he had that night. His vision glowing a bright hue as he fought, Ahaitham watching stunned. “Kaveh…you…you idiot…” He mumbles, watching Kaveh fight off the perpetrators. He knew it was over once he took the sword out. It was like he was signing off his chances of survival.

”Are you proud of me, Haitham?” Kaveh asks, a smile on his face. He looked so proud, having fought them off. He then collapsed, Alhaitham rushing to him, holding his body. His pulse is weak…

Kaveh is dying in my arms he thought, words being hard to make in this situation. Time was running out, and he felt so helpless, his only love now slowly fading out of existence. “Ka-“ “I know…Alhaitham?” Kaveh says, looking directly at Alhaitham’s eyes. “Yes, Kaveh?” Alhaitham answers, his eyes watery, body now shaking, trying his best to keep himself together. Kaveh then spoke his last words “Your eyes…are so…beautiful…the most gorgeous work of art I’ve seen…” And with a smile, he closed his eyes, never to wake up again.

“Kaveh? Please….don’t leave me alone…”

Me: *Reading an angst fic* My speaker: *Starts playing Wannabe by Spice Girls* Me: *Starts straight queer jamming* Character: *Starts having a panic attack* Me: Tell me what'cha want, what'cha really really want-