Hope is a Fickle Thing

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Just a smaller thing, angst really. I got an angst rush so yeah. (It's Wels/Hels) Would y'all prefer angst chapters (size/length varies) OR a bunch of the minor angst ideas put into one chapter? So Mini-OneShots, but it's all angst?

Sorry, just throwing some ideas around. How're you guys? Anything fun happen lately? Does anyone have any ideas for something happy? (I can't think of any..)

Word Count: 241
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The rain poured down, thinning the blood that was shed. Lightning stuck as the sky roared for more. Wels looked up at his brother as he defeatedly lay on the ground, hand and arm held across his face. The sky was dark grey and alive as the mud helped in drenching his clothes. He closed his eyes, remembering all the times he'd cried over Hels.

The times he left Wels, the times he hurt Wels. All the times Hels himself had been hurt and said nothing.

The fact he couldn't save his brother.

He'd cry every time Hels taunted and tormented him, each time leaving Wels awaiting his return like a lost, broken puppy.

Hels just laughed.

Even now, with Wels dancing alongside the reaper, bleeding and battered, and a sword raised above his chest, he still held hope. Hope that Hels would finally change, finally stop all this.

Hope was a fickle thing.

He knew Hels only wanted him to suffer.

"I love you." He said.

"That's unfortunate."

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