#angstt

when you're close to me ☆ lingsha x reader

~ i hope u guys have been doing welllll uni is kicking my ass but ive made so many friends and im happy!!!!! clubbing sucks tho i do not get the appeal sorry guys and gays..

lingsha lovers i hope this helps the lack of lingsha content.., i am starved fr

song: on melancholy hill - gorillaz ~

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

The idea of an eternity, immortality and a life that comes with no end has always been a fascination until it became a reality. Like to never meet your heroes, Lingsha wishes they had never been so ambitious and made their dreams a nightmare. She never cared for the idea of eternity, an idea of rebirth or reliving until she stumbled across you. Because now the idea of having to lose you haunts her every move, the idea of having to lose you haunts her every morning when she wakes up, when she touches you and feels the soft pulse of your heart beneath her fingers as she lays her hand on yours. She takes in the shape of your body, the shape of your face. She runs a hand up your arm, cupping your cheek with a light touch. The human skin is so soft, so fragile. You could bleed any minute, you could fade any minute and it scares her so much.

"Baby?"

Your voice snaps her out of her trance as you blink sleepily, trying to make out the shape of her face from the darkness that she has learned to embrace as part of loving because it's in the dark where she's most intimate with you.

"Mhm?"

"What's wrong?"

Her heart stutters at your hoarse voice, the hint of worry laces your words in such a way it has her wanting to hold you even closer. She acts on her thoughts, resting her head in the crook of your neck as she gently puts an arm around your waist. She feels you smile, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head as you wrap an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to you.

Close to you.

It's all she really wants. She wants to wake up every morning to the sound of your heartbeat, your scent of shampoo and conditioner. She wants nothing more than to write your name in the very stars she looks up at every night so that she can see you every time she looks up into the night. Yet it haunts her, the inevitability of it all.

"Nothing's wrong."

"Don't lie to me, Lingsha."

She can feel your heart beating against her own chest, she can feel your arm tense slightly as move to look into her eyes and it's dark but she would recognise your eyes from anywhere.

"I love you." Is all she says.

She watches you hesitate, worry crossing over your face as you tuck a stray strand of hair back behind her ear. She will always smile when you touch her, even if it's something as simple as a graze of the hand or a touch of the cheek. She smiles now, the morning light barely peeking over the dark curtains and the two of you laying side by side.

"I love you most."

She just pulls you back down gently, returning to rest her head on your chest as your legs tangle together- you merge into one for maybe just a minute where your hearts beat together like a well oiled machine and for a minute she forgets about the briefness of it all.

"Talk to me?"

She shakes her head.

"Later. Just let me lie here for now."

A warmth blooms within her when you just sigh, pressing a kiss against the top of her head once more and she clings onto you like a lifeline.

"Anything for you."

The summer breeze has always been a reminder for Lingsha. The way the air cools during the night, and the cicadas quiet down as the sun fully sets into the evening. The evening nights held so many special memories with the person who occupied her heart, so many moments with your hearts intertwined and written in the skies above for all of the universe to see.

The night sky has always been ours.

A deep, shaky breath is released as she holds her bouquet of flowers tight, close to her beating heart. She hopes to transfer some of who she is into the flowers she holds in her hands as she reaches her destination. She smiles softly when she sees the faint outline of you, her heart twisting.

"Hello, my love."

She crouches down slowly in front of the tombstone in front of her, swallowing down the lump that has begun to form in her throat as she places the flowers down on the side. She takes a shaky breath in, trying to calm down how fast her heart was beating, how with each thump it slams itself against her ribcage, trying to break itself into pieces that would never be able to function the same way as it did before. She touches the edge of the tombstone with her fingers, feeling the rough gravel beneath her fingers as she sits down properly next to you.

"I'm sorry I couldn't come last week."

She leans her head against what was left of you, the scratchy rock being all that's left. She closes her eyes as she lets out a shaky sob, she closes her eyes as she tries her hardest to just feel a heart beating beneath her, to feel the warmth of a human body instead of the prickly grass and dry dirt.

"I miss you."

Is all she can manage out as she grips at the grass beneath her feet, knowing she could never feel your hand on top of hers again. Knowing she could never feel your fingers intertwine as you hold her close and tell her it'll be okay. She grips at the grass, feeling the fragile blades snap as she digs her fingers into the dirt below, anchoring herself the best she can but she's shaking now and she feels like her lungs are collapsing.

She just wants to feel your heartbeat against hers once more, but she knows it would just make it harder for her to let go of you- as if she could even do that to begin with.

"Come back.."

A hopeless cry into the night, begging for a reality that can only be seen in the past- a past where your smile is no longer as clear as it once was and your voice is muffled. You'll fade one day, even in her mind.

She wants to scream.

She just rests her head against what's left of you and closes her eyes- she just pretends it's you. She replays what's left of your muffled voice, she tells herself it's okay. She tells herself you're still close, you're still here.

Be a shame if Noah had to watch him get whumped while he's begging and crying.

MASTERLIST

CW: injuries, suffering, whumper turned whumpee, torture, angstt, Power Dynamics, Self-Loathing, Shame, forced to watch

After dragging Noah away from his tormentor, the bulky men threw him in a room. He had tried getting answers out of them. To know what was happening. To know why was this happening. In any other situation, Noah would've loved to see Andrey go through the same pain that he did, to know what it felt like on the other side. But now that it actually happened, he couldn't help feel the pit of sorrow in his gut.

Noah curled into himself on the ground, didn't even try escaping. He only waited and waited for someone to come in again as he was left with the shouting of his own ringing thoughts.

Soon enough, the door creaked open again. Noah held his breath, and jerked upwards to stand. Heavy footsteps thudded against the ground, before he caught a glimpse of the men again. They started walking towards him, and suddenly the air seemed much more thicker and suffocating. A hand grabbed the back of his hair, pulling it back roughly and before he could comprehend what was happening, a white vial was injected into his neck and he fell into unconsciousness.

Noah's head throbbed when he woke. His body felt heavy, his limbs refusing to move. Panic instantly surged in through his chest when he realized why - his arms were tied behind him, his legs strapped to the legs of a chair. Why did every situation end up with him being the one getting tied up and drugged? A groggy haze clouded his mind, as he tried shaking the drug off.

Then he saw it.

Andrey.

The man was on his knees, the same man who had forced him to kneel for hours until either he got bored or Noah's knees threatened to shatter beneath him. His head was hanging low, his black hair matted with blood and sweat. A few feet away, the same men stood, waiting, watching. One of them cracked his knuckles, another flexed his fingers around a blade. But the one most noticeable was a mysterious figure that stood infront of them, covered in loose black clothing, their face covered with a weird mask.

Noah's blood ran cold.

"Andrey-" He squeaked out, voice barely above a whisper. But Andrey didn't move, didn't react, didn't even glare at him.

"Ah good. You're awake." The figure spoke and he couldn't quite lay his finger on the person's gender. Ah as if that mattered anyways.

"Please- Don't hurt him- Don't-" He choked out before he was rudely interrupted by their captor again.

"Shut up. Didn't ask for your opinion boy. You're only here to watch."

A cruel laugh rippled through the room, echoing in the heavy silence that followed. Noah barely had time to process before the first blow landed on Andrey.

The sound of flesh meeting flesh, a sickening thud made Noah's insides curl. Andrey didn't give much of a reaction. Just a sharp intake of breath, his hands twitching and fingers tightening in an attempt to brace himself. Not only a while ago, Noah would've been the one being beaten up, and the Prince would've been the one watching it with sadistic delight. That's how it should've happened. Not like this. Neither of them were meant to be like this.

Then the second strike came, and the third, and then another one until Andrey violently coughed. His arms buckled beneath him as he collapsed fully onto the floor. Noah’s breathing turned ragged as he watched the blood drip from Andrey’s mouth, a stark contrast against his pale, fever-flushed skin. Somehow he felt like he was the reason this was happening to Andrey in the first place. That he was the reason of someone else's torment.

"P-please," Noah managed to croak out, his throat raw. He dig his nails into his palms, his whole body shaking. "Please stop. Please—"

As a response, a boot connected with Andrey’s ribs, sending him sprawling onto his side with a pained groan.

"Hm? Say that again why don't you?" The figure hissed, his voice sounding so cruel, so poisoned.

Noah’s throat tightened. His body trembled as he fought for breath, trying better than to start hyperventilating. His eyes burned, his mind screamed at him to fight, to do something,for fuck's sake anything—but all he could do was just sit there, frozen, tied up, his voice catching in his throat like it was being strangled from the inside.

And then Andrey whimpered.

The sound was soft, almost inaudible, but to Noah, it shattered everything.

Noah had never heard Andrey whimper before. Not even in his worst moments, not even when he was at the receiving end of a knife or a bullet or a broken bone. And yet here he was, shaking, curling in on himself, a sound of raw, broken misery slipping through the broken man's clenched teeth.

Noah’s stomach lurched, his vision blurring.

"Please—" he sobbed, desperate. "Please, just stop, please, I—"

Another blow. Another pained gasp from Andrey. Another laugh from the men.

"You should be thanking us, boy," one of them snickered. "Teaching your master a little humility."

Noah clenched his fists so tightly his nails nearly pierced his skin. He felt sick. He wanted to run. He wanted to claw his way out of this living nightmare.

Andrey let out a weak, broken laugh, breath hitching with every painful exhale. "You enjoying the show, Noah?" he rasped, barely audible. His fevered eyes flickered toward him, glazed over with pain and something almost like mockery—but no more strength left in it. Only the last remnants of his pride clinging to the edges of his words. "I bet… I bet you are. Watching me like this. I hope—" A sharp cough, more blood. "I hope you're savoring it."

Noah choked back a sob. "I’m not—I swear, I—"

But his words meant nothing. Not here. Not now.

Andrey’s body trembled as another kick landed against his stomach, knocking what little breath he had left out of him. He curled in tighter, his fingers twitching weakly against the stone.

Noah could only watch. 

Taglist: @miireux134/ @nuriiz134/ @noeul-whumpsss/ @morning-star-whump/ @parasitebunny/ @anutz1234/ @whatwasmyprevioususername/ @whumped-by-glitter/ @lordcatwich/ @someoneoninternettt/ @natthebatt/ @noeul-whumpppssssss1234/

*Slides into tumblr* Heeeeyyyyy~ :D

I love Killer so much, I just wanna give him headpats <3

Also I chose to draw this while listening to very energetic music and it was fucking awesome XD

This is the song

Just imagine drawing angst and just having this play in your headphones lol

Killer is married to it'sroxxanne/xnalian

Sen I have a request!!

Im still sick could I mayhaps have some agnsty comfort headcannons with my fave boys Sanemi and Rengoku?

Thank you Sen!! 🫶🏾

-🍷

mayhaps you absolutely can anon! i present to you:

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐒/𝐎 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐒𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬!

includes ;; sanemi, rengoku, gn!reader content ;; angst, hurt/comfort a/n ;; i flatlined writing this so- anyway, considering i had no idea how to start these for a good minute; i think they're pretty good (!?) also sorry for writing so much (wanted to get it just right)so i can hope?

☆☆☆ # sanemi shinazugawa !

gets nervous. extremely nervous- and angry, to the point that he's shaking with anxiety.

at first, the sight of you bedridden makes him frown. and he'll do it often too.

he's lost a ton of people he cares about, your not going to be next.

although he tries to act angry, or short with you sometimes. . . its just to cover up the fact that he's terrified of losing you. (or the prospect of it)

he'd like to be next to you at any given moment, grabbing you warm food and tucking you in to the point you can't squirm out. anything. but he just- he can't

hell, he'd take the pain from you if he could, without an ounce of hesitation. . . but he can only watch and wait. . . until you get better.

but most times he physically can't be there.

the nights he has to be away from you, he's carrying out missions for the corps and cutting/beating down anyone that gets in his way.

everyone feels his uncertainty and rage:

in the way he overkills those poor lesser demons, the way he shoves the kakushi out of his way, and going as far as fighting another hashira over it

like his violent outbursts- it's literally out of his control, on top of the fact that he can barely care for you himself when you need him most.

what was the point of getting so strong? those years of training. what was the point if he was so helpless?

when he gets the chance too (after a long night of work that has his muscles seizing) he'll climb into bed with you and just hold you.

listening to your unsteady breathing, and when he's sure your in a deep sleep, he'll cry.

soundlessly, but his body is shuddering with silent pain. . . and he's trying not to let his tears fall on you but. . . he's really:

❛sorry. i'm so sorry❜

eventually, he feels he owes it to you to explain all of his frustrations, and worries.

he waits until you wake up, waiting the whole night without budging or even thinking about falling asleep.

and when you wake up, he whispers it to you, hugging you tightly so you can't see his eyes watering up or his teeth grinding against each other. he feels like an entire idiot explaining it to you.

afterwards, takes a deep (shaky) breath and kisses you tiredly. who cares if he gets sick too, he's too tired to care.

☆☆☆ # kyojuro rengoku !

he's been around sickness.

he knows the signs. and he knows how to treat most things; come fevers, chills, aches, he can handle it.

what he can't handle, is how it makes him so uneasy.

when you get sick, its one of the few times you ever see him so serious and solemn.

feeding you, helping you bathe, cuddling up to you for body heat and comfort. anything you need, he'll try to be a whim away.

kyojuro knows a bad morale won't do any good for you, so, like always, he'll try to be the ray of sunshine you need. . .

but it breaks his heart every time.

when your sore throat breaks, when you groan from the aches, wince at the pain in your head. . . the fact you can never be comfortable despite everything he tries.

you'll see it too. in his face. the slight knot in his brows, the way his lips are pressed tightly together.

he's just so helpless, forced to watch and wait while your health is on the line.

kyojuro goes in and out of your room, fetching water for you, or soup- whatever helpful excuse he can make up- to go somewhere quiet and cry his heart out.

like the snap of his fingers, he's a little kid all over again. it reminds him so much of his mother.

its hard to pull himself together. he's rarely cried so hard before, so he sucks at covering it up. (his eyes would be puffy and his nose a little runny) at that point you'd think he was sick too

he always tries to hold you hand, squeezing you palm tightly in his. and he hopes its as reassuring to you as it is to him.

because he needs it to.

falls asleep next to you from exhaustion. (he's sitting next to you, head resting on the mattress) and somehow wakes up at the slightest noise you make-- despite his ear being partially deaf.

he always goes the extra mile to get your medicine, dedicated to you and your health.

Gemma's got a boyfriend and Cheryl isn't sure what to think about him. Worried she calls her brother but Gemma's new boyfriend seems to be playing a game all of his own and neither adult knows what to think. Is John heading off against another magician or is the boy just a little smarmy? When his niece is involved the difference doesn't seem so great.

This highkey took forever but it’s finally here, enjoyyyyyy