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happy-hermit · 2 years

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Just a Desert Duo Double Life snippet because they're taking over my brain :]

(Ao3 Link)

Scar knows what people say about him.

He hears the whispers, and the sighs, and the muffled laughter. And he knows that they don’t mean it in a bad way. He knows they’re just teasing. He gets it, he’s an easy target, and sometimes it really is funny.

It works out, then, that they’re always getting thrown into worlds where there’s not much else to laugh about.

The first time it happens, he gets three lives. They all do, and in true Scar fashion, he doesn’t hold on to his green life for long.

He doesn’t get to be different, here. He gets to die early and drag the person responsible off to their own corner of the world to build a sandcastle, like they’re kids at the beach playing at being royalty and pretending that it won’t all just get washed away when the tide comes in. He gets to listen to Grian complain about being stuck in his service, gets to hear him warning others not to trust him, gets to hear him scream his name as he falls to the bottom of that stupid ravine.

Scar gets to wake up with red eyes and a voice in his head telling him to kill, and he gets to stop on the way back to Grian to pick flowers, and Grian stays. Even after his debt is paid, he stays.

He lives with that kill-kill-kill voice in his head for a long, long time before it turns its attention to Grian. (It had been easier, he supposes, to keep it pointed in other directions when there were more people to target.) And then, when it’s just the two of them left in the whole empty world, they go back to their ruined castle and they fight until one of them dies.

It is no surprise to anyone, that Scar is the one to go. Grian had kept him alive for weeks. It’s not shocking that Scar doesn’t last long after he stops trying. (And maybe Scar stops trying, too.)

—------------

Two minutes or a million years later, they get thrown into another world — a world where they have the option to share. The Universe sees fit to give him more lives than almost anyone else, because apparently even the Cosmos is in on the joke. Everyone knows that Scar can’t go two seconds without dying in some cartoonish or stupid way, and this place, this arena of death—

Well, Scar supposes it just wants a good show.

He gets seven lives. He gives one to Grian, and watches his eyes turn from bright yellow to neon green, and for a few seconds it’s like they’re back in the desert, like they could be a team again, and maybe Scar can get it right this time.

He tries to get Grian to come with him, later. He tries. But Grian doesn’t owe him a debt anymore, so there’s no reason for him to stay. Scar can’t just pick him flowers and ask him to be his friend, anymore, so Grian goes off with his shiny new group and Scar lives on a mountain alone.

And he stays that way, mostly, unless someone wants something from him enough to seek him out. He takes the enchanter so that they have a reason to visit. He tries to gather loyalty, and he tries to sell fake crystals, and he is alone, because no one who isn’t obligated would ever want to stay.

Scar isn’t built for being alone. It settles as a heavy weight in his chest that he can’t quite shake, and it sends him tumbling into deaths left and right and all at once, stumbling blindly towards danger for the promise of someone at least being close enough to see it happen.

(There is a trap, between him and Grian, and he knows this because he told him about it. The Southlanders with their spyglasses and jokes and fortress built a trap in their doorway, and Scar walks right into it. All he’d seen was the distance between them, and hadn’t been able to ignore the urge to shorten it. It costs him.)

He wakes up with red eyes and the faint itch to kill, and he thinks that he would rather die with witnesses than live all alone.

(Scar, of course, doesn’t win the game.)

(No one ever does.)

—-----------

They appear in a new world, and it has new rules. They can all tell immediately, that their heart isn’t just their own anymore. There’s a sense of connection, there. A bond. He feels it as he explores; the odd jolt in his legs from his soulmate hitting the ground a bit too hard, the sharp sting of an arrow that didn’t quite hit its mark but didn’t miss, either.

An anxious knot forms in his throat to accompany the ever-present weight in his chest. It’s hard to speak around it, when he runs into Grian and Etho and Joel and wonders absentmindedly how long it will be before they leave.

He finds an Allay and names it Minnie, and he gives it a dirt block so it will stay. (He tries not to think about a different world, then, and flowers to buy a friendship. He tries.) He finds a jungle with Jellie-Pandas, and thinks that at least he’d have company, if he settled there. At least it wouldn’t be quite so quiet, and he could pretend that he wasn’t talking to himself.

He watches Grian as they explore, and tries not to look at him too much, and he hears the jokes. Hears how they lament over whoever gets stuck with him, whoever has to babysit him, and Scar thinks that maybe it would be kinder to his Soulmate if he didn’t find them. If he didn’t try. He’s had some practice being alone, now. Better alone than a liability. Better alone than a burden.

Grian hovers around him for days, like some kind of judgemental shadow, though Etho and Joel’s presence makes it seem less strange. He meets people, he meets pairs who have found their other half, and he smiles in a way that feels painful and strained and he laughs when they ask him if he’s found his soulmate, and he changes the subject because it’s easy. It’s expected.

He’s Scar. Carefree and reckless and accident-prone, and anyone’s absolute last choice for someone they’d want to share a life with.

He goes back to the Jellie-Pandas, and he finds an empty cave, and he thinks that maybe it’s even worse to be alone in a world specifically designed to prevent it.

It isn’t even 24 hours before Grian shows up in his little jungle, something determined and sad in his eyes that makes Scar taste blood and sand in his mouth before he registers that those eyes are still green. He hangs a stalactite from a tree, and Scar knows how this game goes, so he stands under it like he asks. He can be comic relief, he thinks as he eyes the stalactite. It isn’t high enough to kill him, or even hurt that badly. His heart still speeds up.

“Alright, okay,” Grian says, a faint anxiety in his voice that Scar doesn’t quite understand. “Now look at me. Look directly at me.”

Scar looks at him, meets his eyes, and thinks that green really is a better color than red.

“Okay, I’m looking directly at you,” Scar says, holding bamboo in his hand so that the Jellie-Pandas won’t wander off.

One of them makes a noise just as Grian starts to mine the stalactite, and Scar turns to it as a welcome distraction, cooing and laughing. The spike impacts his head and breaks apart into pieces on the ground, and Scar winces, but continues to feed the Jellies bamboo in a slightly shaking hand.

“Scar!” Grian sounds frustrated and frayed.

Scar barely resists flinching, a spark of annoyance and confusion burning in his chest. Grian is a lot of things, but he isn’t cruel. He’s not. But Scar doesn’t know what he wants from him.

“Scar— Okay, I can only do this one more…” Grian places another stalactite over his head, and Scar looks up at it and blinks, frowning. “Look at me, Scar.”

Scar swallows hard, and he looks. Grian stares back at him with a flat mouth and uncertain eyes. He can count on one hand, the amount of times Grian has looked unsure. The guy usually seemed more like a force of nature than a human being, like he was some kind of mischievous deity more than a man.

Scar looks.

Grian breaks the stalactite.

There’s a moment where time stretches and slows, where Scar feels like he’s been holding his breath for a thousand years, like he’s been holding his breath since they were stuck in that desert.

Then the stalactite hits, and Scar watches as Grian winces when Scar does, watches his eyes flash red the moment it makes contact, the way his hand twitches at his side, and he can finally make sense of the way Grian is looking at him, like an apology and a condemnation and hesitance, all at once.

“Oh my god,” Scar says, embarrassed and tired and disbelieving, and Grian breaks out into laughter.

“You knew this whole time?” Scar asks, several recent events suddenly making more sense.

Grian grins, relieved and teasing, nudging his shoulder. “Why do you think I’ve been so concerned about your health and safety?”

Okay, maybe that hurt, a bit. He’s an obligation again. Their soulbond was the only reason Grian was here. (All this World wanted was a good show, and who didn’t love poetic cinema?)

There was another part of him that felt relief, that felt warmth blooming in his chest. Of course it would be Grian. Of course.

“You let me walk around with no idea who my soulmate was,” Scar says, playfully accusing, and really not surprised.

“I might’ve been working through the five stages of grief,” Grian says, shrugging and putting his pickaxe back in his belt.

Right. Because being tied to Scar means you’re as good as dead. It’s a sobering thought. His plan of never meeting his soulmate has gone out the window so completely that it seems like it was always doomed to fail. Everyone in this world is doomed to fail. Everyone but one. Or rather – this time – two.

Grian has received a death sentence for a soulmate.

Grian is turning around. “Come on,” he says, glancing over his shoulder. “I’ve got a base started. It’s looking pretty cool so far.”

There’s a knot, in Scar’s throat. He wonders if Grian can feel it, too. “Do we have to base together?”

Grian pauses and turns back around to look at him, his eyes a little confused, a little wounded. “Well, I mean, I guess not,” he says, taking a half step closer. “But it— it might be nice. To look after you.”

“I have a cave,” Scar says, gesturing a little uselessly in the direction of his little home. He’s giving Grian an out. He’s giving him an option.

Grian’s brow furrows in slight confusion. “I have sheep,” he says. “And chickens.”

Scar blinks, wondering why it feels like they’re bartering, or like there’s something between the lines that Scar’s not understanding . It’s like Grian wants him to come with him, but it doesn’t make sense. No one ever wants him around.

Maybe Grian feels like he doesn’t have a choice. Like if he leaves Scar alone he’ll get them both killed. It’s not exactly an unlikely assumption to make.

“You don’t have to,” Scar says, resting a hand on a Jellie-Panda where it stands at his side.

“I don’t have to… I don’t have to what?” Grian asks, tilting his head like a bird.

“I’ll just stay around here,” Scar continues, breaking eye contact to take in the secluded area. “I won’t get into trouble. I won’t even talk to anyone.”

“What?” Grian’s voice sounds strained. “Why would you do that?”

Scar shrugs and musters up a grin to contrast Grian’s frown. “To give you a chance?” Scars says.

Grian sighs and rubs at his forehead. “Scar, you’re not making any sense.”

“We’re bonded,” Scar says, almost desperately. This whole conversation feels like ripping off a bandaid as slowly as possible. It’s painful and necessary. “And I’m—” Scar laughs a little. “I’m me.”

“Believe me, Scar, I’m well aware who you are.” Grian huffs in irritation. “That’s why we need to stick together.”

“You don’t need to babysit me, Grian.”

“Yes, I do!” Grian shouts, and then he winces, looking down at his hand. Scar makes a conscious effort to uncurl his fingers, well aware of how hard his nails had just been digging into his palm. Grian had been able to feel it.

They stand in tense silence for a minute, Grian looking down at his hands, flexing them, and Scar wonders if he can see the blood on his knuckles the same way that Scar can. Wonders if he looks at Scar and still sees someone who betrayed him, once. Wonders if either of them ever left that desert.

“I wasn’t surprised that it was you,” Grian says eventually, quietly, finally letting his hands drop back to his sides. Scar watches him. “Angry, yeah, but not surprised.”

Scar finally feels a twinge of irritation. “Look, I’m sorry you got stuck with me again—”

Grian cuts him off with a bitter laugh. “I’m not angry with you, Scar, I’m just— I can’t—” He stops, taking a breath.

“We don’t end well,” Grian says, with such a deep well of pain in his voice that Scar’s own stubborn knot of hurt aches in sympathy. “We just end.”

The Jellie-Pandas make faint sounds off in the distance. Scar tries to scrape himself back into a shape that’ll fit into this conversation. Or anywhere at all.

“We’re still here,” Scar says, because they are. Because they don’t get to have anything as mundane or cathartic as an ending.

Grian blinks in muted surprise and finally meets his eyes again. There’s a bruise on his forehead that matches Scar’s.

“And we’re still there,” Grian says, a wry, sad smile on his face, and Scar can’t help but laugh a little. Because it’s true.

“I don’t blame you, you know,” Scar says, deceptively light and conversational. “For killing me.”

“Really?” Grian barks a self-deprecating laugh. “I do.”

“I betrayed you.” Scar shrugs. “I deserved it.”

“No,” Grian says, shaking his head. “No. You didn’t deserve that.”

It hadn’t been a quick death, that final one. Not like his first two. Hands weren’t really made for killing.

The sun is sinking lower in the horizon, and the wind is blowing, and the greenery around them feels a bit like it shouldn’t be real, and suddenly Scar is tired of the past. Maybe the Universe or whoever put them here is trying to tell them something. Telling them to try again.

“Wanna call it even?” Scar asks, cracking a tentative grin, and Grian lets out a startled laugh, which makes Scar smile wider.

“Not even gonna ask for my shoes?” Grian teases, tension leaking out of his frame.

“I’m about to move into your house,” Scar says lightly, starting to walk towards him. “I think you’ve got other things to worry about.”

“Oh, tons.”

They walk through the forest towards where Grian’s set up base, bickering and teasing and tentatively falling back into the familiarity of being a team. A pair. Something like hope is chipping away at the knot in his chest.

There’s still a long way to go from here, but it doesn’t seem quite as daunting, anymore. They’ll either win together or they’ll lose together, and neither of them will be alone.

“I’m going back for those Jellie-Pandas, by the way,” Scar says eventually, and smiles to himself as Grian puts up a dramatic protest without quite covering the amusement in his voice.

In this world, there is no desert.

#double life smp #desert duo #goodtimeswithscar #grian #double life smp fanfic #i love throwing angst at things #this time my target was desert duo <3 #anyway hope you like it if you read :]#jay’s journal

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introspectivememories · 6 months

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in my head and in my heart, i know for a fact that all 3 todoroki children have really unfavorable habits that they got from endeavor.

fuyumi is mean. just honest to god mean. she doesn't even mean it most of them time. just being everyone's emotional support all the time causes her to suppress her meaner emotions and when someone pushes, it all comes out. but there is nothing in the world sharper than fuyumi's tongue on a bad day.

natsuo, ever the middle child. always there and always forgotten. natsuo is quick to get physically aggressive. never on people, god no. but he'll punch through walls like it's nothing. he's had his fingers broken and set more times than he can remember. he hates this part of himself. he already looks so much like enji, does he need to have his father's destructive rage too?

shouto... where to even begin with shouto. the child kept under enji's thumb the longest. shouto is more like enji than he would like to admit. he eats his food the way enji eats his food, greens first then everything else. he does his morning routine a near copy of his father's. this is what happens when you spend every waking moment of the first 15 years of your life with your abuser. that being said, shouto, ignoring the ever present constant thrum of anger that hides just below his skin, shouts a lot when he's angry. it comes from the chest, booming and seething. it scares people. he knows this and he hates that he cannot stop himself.

they don't like thinking about but when it happens all of them can't help but think i'm just like dad.

#god if touya lived long enough he probably would've picked up something really shitty #anyway mean!fuyumi is sooo true to me #that woman bottles up soo much in the hopes of being enough for the people around her #i think this is her worst habit? behavior?#physically aggressive!natsu is actually canon i think #the way he hit that doorframe at the family dinner.... yeah i know what you are #and shou. god i had the hardest time deciding what to choose for shou.#but in the end i went with the way he yelled at that cop after the stain incident #that kind of anger looked a little tooo natural on you my son #anyway i think the punching walls/throwing things started cause natsu was always an angry kid #and like there wasn't much he could do for his sister and brother and he was going crazy hearing his father beat the the shit out of shou #and one day he just snapped and punched the wall of the shed out back and god it felt sooo good and he didn't stop until fuyumi was pulling #him away screaming #god i love todofam angst #todoroki fuyumi #todoroki natsuo #todoroki shouto #todofam #bnha

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sylvies-kablooie · 5 months

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my opinion on babies is that they aren't for me personally but damn, they make good plot devices. like what do you mean these character's relationships created and/or sustain a living thing. and it screams. that's some heavy-handed symbolism!!!!!

#like do you see how this is actually wild to think about #again cannot emphasize enough how much this is NOT FOR ME IN REALITY but in the sandbox that is fiction like. huh.#wild how that works.#i love angst!!!! it fuels me!!!!!!!!#i have no interest in approaching how fandom handles these things though the discourse is above my pay grade #my radical take: it's fine if u wanna imagine ur faves in domestic bliss and also fine to throw them in a 120k word vampire hunter au #i just love some dramatic fan fiction.#juni rambles

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abloomingperiod · 1 year

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try | min yoongi

"i hate you."

he snaps his head, eyes locked on your face, but not to the point where he used to go - making you unable to speak.

"i hate you and your eyes when they're searching for any ounce of secrecy in mine. i hate your ability to catch every word that i keep from you before i stuff them down my throat again. i hate your will to listen to me, and even more, your desire to do it again. i hate your hands and how they never fucking let my chin when i try and hide from you.

yoongi is a man of personality. he will scoff, he will bicker, he will complain and he will make his opinions clear.

but now, as he watched closely the way your face glowed with your tears, he knows better. like he knows the palm of his hand, he knows the best he can do, is keep his mouth shut.

"i hate how you make everything seem so easy, but somehow can't figure out how to fucking call after 5 days of sleeping and staying with me." you're aware of your surroundings: his place, his room, his space. you sense you should feel bad about telling him off at his own goddamn home.... but should you?

after he did the same?

after he went to your place, your room, your space, and then tore you off like a used band-aid from a wound?

you're not the type to go just vent. no, you're top caught up in your own head to do so. yet, you feel like he should be as uncomfortable as one can possibly be.

he made you feel that, why shouldn't he?

"i fucking hate your arms when they embrace me, even though i want you away. i hate that they know i don't really want to." you weakly let out a bitter laugh at that, knowing you're probably falling off the deep end of what should be a tell off, a firm and stern goodbye. but you know you could never do that.

that is not you, and yoongi also knows that very well. which is why his eyes go redder and redder, saved from your sight by his dark locks and your scared chin, that holds your face down.

"i hate your fucking body for making mine feel so unprepared and held hostage of you. i hate your warmth and i hate the feel of your hands on me. i hate your fucking touch, and i hate the fact that if you approach me right now, i will forget everything i want to say. i hate how you make me forget my own name, but can't seem to know anything but yours when i'm coming down under you" you feel your cheeks redden as they have been doing lately every time anything carnal comes up regarding yoongi, and the fact that it does, only makes you hate him even more.

because it's never been like that. no carnal shit has ever made your cheeks red.

because this wasn't just carnal, and you knew that.

and you hated yoongi for that.

"i hate you for making me feel like i'm the only thing in the world, like i'm your fucking 'love'" you hiss at the nickname he himself put in you.

"there you go, love" "good morning, love" "you can tell me anything, love" "but i want to hear about it, love" "i'm being serious, love"

love, love, love..

it seems impossible to not observe those 4 letters move around until it becomes a mere gutted, bitter and scary feeling.

yoongi catches his breath before you can hear any urgent sniffle from him. because of course he does. he undresses you, your feelings and your heart, and uses it as a shield for his own.

"i hate you more than anything and everyone in the world, because i can't fucking hate you",

and with that, your voice breaks, along with your already weak posture and you hold your face on your hands as to try and protect the last layer that's left, and surprisingly, the first he peeled when he first saw you across that bar, with a dark, firm make-up trying and holding his stare, whilst keeping a smile as your teeth sank on your on lip.

he knows every layer of you, and like nothing, tears it apart.

yoongi feels like a kid that's desperately trying to cover his misdoings from his elders. he knows he's beyond to blame, but still, keeps his gaze on the floor as the only glimpse of you he catches is your nervous feet, movind around nonstoppably.

"and i hate you because i fucking love you, desperately and insanely."

yoongi lifts his gaze for the first time since you started talking, and he scolds himself like never before for that.

seeing people crying is never the best sight, but watching you, the person he feels like he could kill for, breaking apart in front of him, doesn't feel like a scold.

it feels worse.

a sinking consequence.

a punishment.

a capital sin he should pay for.

"i can't fucking do this anymore" you say in a defeated voice "you did it, congratulations. you know me and not you know what you did." yoongi can sense what you're about to do and his heart, if not on the ground, is probably because it got stuck in his tightening grip on the counter top he supported himself.

"i don't know what else you intend to do, but it has to stop. i'm done with your shit, so leave me out of it. this isn't me, this isn't the type of thing i get into, and you fucking know that because i told you so." your tears start falling again, and your head feels like it's gonna explode. but the pain isn't as near as the one in your heart. "so please, please" you beg him, and you're sure you never seemed so pleading, not even when you wanted him to make you beg in other circumstances "fucking let me be, 'cause i can't stand this anymore."

yoongi feels like he might bust at any moment. how could he be so inside his own head, to not realize what he has done before you literally cried it out for him?

but of course he wouldn't. it was so easy to read others, but not nearly as easy as shutting off from them.

but he knows better than to cherish this fact. after seeing the damage he has done, it was transformed into a reason to feel ashamed of himself.

and he hates himself for that. he hated every layer you peeled for him, as he simultaneously battle himself to not peel his own. he hated that, and he hated that it affected you.

you. the person that made him feel like a deranged man. the person he kissed every limb, chased every freckle, cleaned every millimeter of skin after marking it, and mumbled desperate promises in the dead of night to.

you, his love.

but love wasn't supposed to hurt like that.

he knows that very well.

and you know that very well, too.

and he's aware of that, even more so now, that you're gathering every layer he peeled off of you, to regain yourself.

he knows he fucked everything up.

he knows.

he, then, reaches for something in his pocket. a black, tiny box, and fiddles with it for a few seconds.

you're not sure why, but your legs feel like giving up.

"i should've been quicker on my feet" he mumbles, as he sadly looks down at the mysterious object.

"i got it a month ago... the day after the blackout" he seems to go back to that day. ah, yes. the blackout.

it was mid-afternoon, a regular saturday with not much to do, but since you had yoongi over your body, and his warm, plump lips on your skin, it was far from boring.

unfortunately, as you guys laid spent on his bed, your phone died, which meant it hadn't charged, and that's when you realized the power went off.

his place had two way out's and both needed energy to function. so instead of storming out as you used to do after your rendezvous, you stood there, with him. and hours ago, after huge conversations, room-filling laughter and urgent make out sessions, as you left, yoongi realized he wished the power never came back.

he comes back to where you're both at right now, and it feels like ages ago.

a month.

he went a month with that ring on his pocket slapping his own face mentally as he tried to find the perfect time to open its lid and his heart for you.

but you were quicker on your feet, as you were quicker on wearing your heart on your sleeve when you got comfortable - or wrecked - enough.

yoongi bitterly chuckles, but you don't hate him for that. no, his single tear detaches from him in such a fast way you don't have the time to do so, before another one comes.

"i know you find commitment jewelry rather 'lame"... so you can still use it as just accessory, if you want to." he keeps explaining himself with a voice that's suffocated from his urge to cry. he lets another sad, bitter chuckle out "you seemed so radiant when it fit your finger..."

he couldn't've.

he shouldn't've.

well, he did.

"you shouldn't have done that'." you lightly scold him.

"i wanted to"

"what changed, then?"

"it has 'i love you' engraved inside, you know."

then, his eyes get to yours, and you feel like you've been petrified.

of course it did.

and you know very well it didn't when you tried it back then in the pottery shop, but it did now, and you don't know if it's a sick game of his, or if he's really that much of a coward to not put himself together and just give it - the ring and his whole - to you, like he knew you were wiling to do for him.

"you know damn well i am right here ready for you and you don't do it"

"i'm sorry-"

"do you even know what goes inside your head?"

"i wish i didn't if it'd make it easier"

then, you go silent. yoongi is good with words, but surprisingly, not when is his own thoughts translated to them. and you're tired of it.

"i can't put myself into something if it's one-sided"

"it's not"

"you don't seem to be sure of that"

"i'm as sure as i am with death"

you can't do this anymore, you can't, you can't.

"yoongi, i can't be tortured like that because you're afraid" then, you snap back into it all. "hell, i was fucking mortified and yet i let it go because you made me feel like i could" the least you can do is fucking retribute."

and he knows that.

he knows that.

"i can retribute"

you sigh and close your eyes. no. not this. not months ago. not now.

not when you can't do it anymore.

"a ring and a tear is not enough"

"i don't think it is"

you look back to the floor and wish you could stop your tears from coming back, but it would be wasted effort. one you could use right now to say no to his advances.

yoongi tries to approaching you carefully, like you could break just from feeling his warm body close to you. "can i?" he asks.

you look back at his eyes with a feeling you know he understands, and he wants to slaps his own face for being responsible for it.

you're guarded up.

of course you are, and it didn't surprise him.

then, he reaches the black box for you.

"i still think it looks beautiful on you" he comments, the same thing he commented months ago, when you tried it.

"looks beautiful on you, love."

you sniff at his gift, and touches it as if it was a new puppy for a kid, or a confirmation letter from the best college out there for a teen.

you touch it as if you adored it, even in it's been seconds since he gave it to you.

you touch it as if it was a piece of him he gave to you.

you touch it as if it was him.

and suddenly, your fingers itches for his skin.

and you cry because of it.

"i would do anything to try again" he says in a tone that made you heart break three times in a row. "anything."

you stare at him, and his eyes are already on you.

"you really think you tried once?"

he fucking crumbles at your words. they cut like a knife, but he knows you're not lying.

it might be hurting like nothing before, but you're not lying.

"i think i can try more. this i think" he retaliates, but not in a defensive way, no. yoongi knows he's in no place to do so.

it sounds more like a fact. he knows he can.

all he needed is for you to know it too.

he approaches you, but this time, you don't move an inch, and doesn't raise one eyebrow. instead, you feel it and your tears falling together.

"let me try."

he says, looking right at your eyes, and you swear you wanted to grab him by his collar and never let him go. as usual.

yoongi cups your face carefully, his thumbs wiping your tears away as you bit your lip anxiously.

"i want- i will try."

you raise your eyes and find his, that are already on yours and you find in them a stripped yoongi; one that you've only seen in the dead of night, one you've only seen when he's with his six closest friends.

one you've only seen when he loses himself in his true colors.

"anything." he says, mouth close to yours, gaze never letting go.

and when he feels your hand raising the box to him, for a few seconds, he feels his heart in shambles all around the room.

but that is until you open your mouth.

"start from when you stopped, then."

oh, and will he.

with his whole being, and his entire soul.

for a minute, you hate him for saying those exact words.

but at the same time, deep down to where he can see in your eyes, you know you don't.

you know, you actually love it.

you love it.

you love him.

and you see mirrored in his eyes.

he loves you.

he loves you, he will try.

he will try.

#screaming crying throwing up #CAN YOU SMELL THE 10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU IN THE AIR #i love him #min yoongi #min yoongi imagine #min yoongi drabble #min yoongi angst #min yoongi exes to lovers #min yoongi bts #bts imagine #bts min yoongi #suga #agust d #suga imagine #i know i need to learn about real and healthy love leave me alone

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theloveinc · 2 years

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Bakugo would do so good in that "screaming and seeing how long it takes my boyfriend to check on me" tiktok test thing

idk him being there for you or like always replying so fast to your texts and calls incase you need help makes me soft :'))

jdjdkfjifjg FIRST of all, I’m in love, and second of all… doing this challenge is the way the door to your room gets broken. Door isn’t even locked and the second your scream, Bakugo literally flies in without twisting the knob and the whole thing probably pops off😭😭😭

You go from giggling at the thought of his care to being a little stunned as you both just stare at the now broken handle lying on the floor (except he kinda doesn’t care in trying to get to you).

And you’d think he’d be kinda mad at you for pranking, but no, you say nothing is wrong and he’s questioning you… coming up and pawing at you to make SURE.

It’s the one time he’s not pestering you about the camera, staring at it kinda suspiciously as he asks, “are you sure? Nothing? Didn’t hit your head or something, you goof?” because he’s honestly just confused and worried🥺.

Anyway, the video definitely goes viral. All your comments are like:

“did this man break the door???”

“I stg you can hear him RUNNING”

“Where can I get a man like that???😩😩”

Bakugo sees and is lowkey very smug.

(And yes!!! He always ALWAYS responds so quickly to all your texts and calls… like, within seconds almost. It’s sweet because even if he knows nothing is wrong… he’s always answering like something is, then calming down when you confirm you were just wanted to ask abt the grocery store or because you missed him.

“What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Of course? I just forgot if you asked for this or this for your recipe tonight.”

“Oh. Oh yeah, I wanted the _.”

“Alright baby, I’ll buy it. Love you!”

“Yeah. You too. Be safe.”

Paranoid ass… but you gotta love it🥺)

#bakugo #LMAO LIKE B*BE THIS IS THE SUPERMARKER #I’m gonna throw my phone I want him so badly #rush in so hard a hinge breaks PLEASE #why is he so worried about u #not even worried but the second there might be trouble … he thinks their is #Even if all u wanted to ask was about the long beans in the fridge #he’s tense until u tell him ur alright #omg but the angst if u actually were in trouble………#can’t go there tbh #but I still love it #and esp the tik tok idea too #idk why I like those ideas so much tbh #bdhdksjdkskkdk #caitie answers #caitie things #anon

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sonofthemoon2 · 2 years

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i don't know who was the person that talked about mike sufferin hanahaki disease buttt you're a genius I love you.

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salsa-di-pomodoro · 1 year

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If lady sneasler went back home with Ingo i think eventually she would want to try battling with him. I mean it looks fun, everyone tells her it's a good bonding moment for both trainer and Pokémon and it's a golden opportunity to show off, why not? Who's going to stop her, the pearl clan?

Ingo takes a bit of convincing, out of respect for both her and the traditions of the pearl clan, but he relents eventually. He can't deny he's been wanting to do this as well. After a bit of training they have the time of their life destroying people's (read: Emmet, the elite four, other Frontier Brains and generally just other strong trainers (sorry i didn't include Elesa. I love her very much but she is not on their level methinks 😔. Id love to be proven wrong tho)) teams, with a mix of Ingo's old and new team and her as the ace for once in unregulated matches. (Turns out, noble Pokémon naturally have insane stats and therefore cannot partecipate in league matches or official battles. Ingo has to nerf sneasler/the rest of his team or use less Pokémon as a result, but he loves the challenge. He's thrilled when people defeat him.)

(Emmet takes this as a challenge. As long as his Pokémon are on board, he's building his way up to defeating Ingo when they're not holding back. He gets scarily close every time.)

I ran out of space in the tags but blankshippers dni pls. Let's stay in our respective lanes and not interact

#ive been feeling good today!!! good enough to think this up :)#also who else thinks ingo would get some kind of certification for lady sneasler to show that while she might live with him #and be in his pokeball and his team occasionally she is still not his pokemon. kinda like meowth from team rocket #shes there because she wants to beyond just being his Pokémon. do you understand me #anyway yeah there has to be some kind of certification for sorta emancipated (?) Pokémon. do you mean to tell me #that pokemon who have been proven to be more intelligent than humans sometimes are not allowed to just partecipate in society #with their own pokeball in their own hands. paws. whatever #maintagging this feel free to tell me ideas about this. do not send me angst i will explode <3 (serious)#subway boss ingo #warden ingo #ingo and emmet #ingo #emmet #subway boss emmet #lady sneasler #sneasler #btw yeah my headcanon is she absolutely does come back with him shes not losing the only people who actually treat her like a normal person #she might love throwing her title around but damn she'd love if they stopped walking on eggshells around her #she ran put of patience when she met ingo basically lmao #yes this is based on that one post where they say this exact thing. i really like that post #don't know if i should tag elesa or anyone else. there is something going on with her i know it in my soul but idk what it is.#shes very excited about this whole thing whether or not she can safely fight sneasler though. yeah sure ill tag her why not #also once more headcanon time i think pokemon from hisui need to go through training to not absolutely maul modern day pokemon #not because theyre stronger or anything. a modern pokemon could absolutely maul you to death. its just that theyre more used to #self restraint for the human's sake. and therefore would not fight as viciously and may get hurt #Ingo already kinda did this in hisui (and still kicked everyones ass. man they may have been getting better but they were still mostly bad #at battling. he could trust that theyd get even better tho)#anyway but yeah he has to do it again with sneasler and the alphas.#theyre too used to having to kick ass or die and theyre also Stupidly Strong #submas

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filmreelononescreen · 1 year

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Y'all I am so so so deep in satosugu shit, istg every fanart I see, every tumblr blog I read, every edit I see makes me want to scream, cry and throw up. How did Gege even come up with so much angst. It's like the angstiest of the angst I have ever come across. First you have to kill your own estranged boyfie and then some weird ass sorcerer who apparently jumps brain from body to body decides to inhabit your boyfie's body. Then the said brain sorcerer decides to destroy the world while inhabiting and using your boyfie's body so you have to kill the body of your boyfie again. Like it was bad even for the time, having to do it again is like plunging a man deep into madness. This makes me think that Satoru really is the strongest not only in the terms of cursed energy and techniques (which he of course is) but also his mental strength is really high, my man was killed and he came back to life and resumed like nothing happened. He had to kill his one and only, had to send kids to dangerous missions while at the same time advocating for a better jujutsu society for the said kids, was trapped inside that damn box and came back stronger, he even had to see his son's body possessed by an ancient curse(just like his one and only's body) and man still didn't crumbled. If I was in his place I would've been crying and bawling my eyes out. I'm not saying that he has the best mental health but the mental strength he possesses is commendable. He knows at the moment if he crumbles everything around him would crumble too, he knows and accepts the fact that there are people who are relying on him. Having six eyes and limitless would've been of no use if he didn't had the mental strength he has.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #Gojo Satoru #Geto Suguru #satosugu #screaming crying throwing up #satosugu is the angstiest of the angst i have ever came across #i would have been bawling my eyes out if i was at Satoru's place #god i love satosugu #also itafushi makes my heart melt #and gege has the audacity of repeating the same things to them

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hakucho-art · 2 years

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Anybody ordered some angst?

#tg #tokyo ghoul #ken kaneki #touken #touka kirishima #kanetou #i actually also finished that yesterday #But I didn’t wanna throw angst right after that sweet reception of the Touka art BDFHWJVFH #also fun fact #The stranger things soundtrack inspired me to draw this #Specifically when hopper and joyce revive will on the other side per cpr #Listened to it on loop while drawing lmaooo #Love it when music inspires my art #haku's art

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highlifeboat · 8 months

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Father, why are you obsessed with Mia /genq

Because she's

FUCKING

HOT

Also I find her voice really nice, she's arguable really smart, and realistically she'd be kind of badass if Capcom didn't fucking nerf her. She's a character who's gone through a lot of shit that's just never talked about or addressed in-game and that makes her incredibly interesting. She's morally grey. She has PTSD that's clearly going unchecked (and potentially unmedicated. She has a lot of pills, but I don't know that any of them are actually meds to help with her problems. Like I've looked into possibilities before and *one* of them might be anti-depressants/anxiety meds but I don't know enough about medications to confirm that. It's just as likely they're just vitamins or birth control or something). She cares about her daughter, but then vanishes from the story and is barely mentioned.

She feels like a very neglected character, which is incredibly unfair considering she's pretty much the reason for half of the shit that happens. So maybe there's a part of me that just wants to add to her and flesh her out.

All in all I just find her interesting.

And also she's hot and I want her to bend me over a table.

#i don't actually know why mia is the one who stuck with me. i think because she has the most angst potential #and also the whole throwing you through a wall thing is hot #which is funny because i don't feel this way about alcina despite her doing the same kind thing #i mean #i love her don't get me wrong #but she's not mommy to me like she is to everybody else it feels pff #asks #anons #mia winters

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darnellthefirestarter · 5 months

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What’s BF/GF’s situation like in your vampire au?

Well, Boyfriend was a part of Darnell's hunting force. He was very new to the job when he met Girlfriend- a VERY powerful vampire lord. As he tried to avoid certain death, the vampire woman couldn't help but find him a bit cute, so she calmed him down and started to just talk with him. They hit it off right away, and knew that they couldn't just let their love die. So, Boyfriend, after long weeks of painstakingly trying to hide his lover from his fellow hunters, came to a decision. He wanted to be transformed. It was the perfect plan in his mind. They could be together for eternity, and even if they were staked, at least they could be together. Besides, vampire powers could help him protect Girlfriend from hunters (although she really doesn't need protecting, she finds it sweet). So, on the night of the new moon, they set a date. The next full moon would be Boyfriend's transformation night. They set their minds to it, keeping it secret as best they could. The only person Girlfriend told was her best friend, Pico. Boyfriend, as hard as he tried, couldn't keep the secret from Darnell, which then was spread to Nene, and all the other hunters in the group. So begins the mod. Darnell sets out on a quest to stop his friend from meeting a horrible fate, and changing his mortal life forever. Boyfriend must survive the vampire family's mansion, all while also trying to somehow gain their approval, while Darnell hunts him down to stop him before it's too late...

#friday night funkin #pico newgrounds #random thoughts #darnell #boyfriend fnf #boyfriend #girlfriend fnf #fnf girlfriend #boyfriend x girlfriend #so basically we got two thirsty vampires going after some hunky humans #throw in a little angst and love and you got yourself the au :]#fnf au #vampire #i tuink im gonna call this the bloodlust au #but idk bc im really bad at naming things

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hihopelessromantics · 1 year

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BOOM. FANFICTION

We have a dead OC haunting the narrative, we have absolutely soul crushing whump, we have hurt/comfort and a little sprinkle of hurt again at the end! What's not to love!

HELL YEAH! Another entry to the 7-rats-in-a-trenchcoat holy war cinematic universe!!!! Today is a gooood day

when I saw the mail icon I was like I HAVE BEEN CONTACTED YEAAAAAAA

today... is an even better day because we got more Saorise... I'm gonna cry.

You know, I didn't recognize that the "dead oc" was her until I saw her actual name, because in my mind she's still alive and running around as a vital part of the ten commandments. I haven't done anything but gently put her in the background of the daydreams with a cookie of her choice yet, because knowing she was Zeldris's only friend on top of being her own lovable self and now learning that she was a like sister to them both- my HEART 😭

i cannot touch that yet. it is holy. but one day, if I have your approval, I swear I'll make her a happy ending. bc that's what I've been doing since I was little for tragic narratives (Cough, cough, Darkstalker Legends, if you know you know) and now's as good a time as any to step up my game. just the prospect gives my heart the zoomies

me when a writer I love makes an oc and gives them the good angst: 👀 is mine to love? to cherish? to make fictional happy endings for? fictional happy endings that don't exist for the characters that don't exist, that are wonderful and die a horrible undeserved death that fits the themes and story so well my heart is screaming?

oh... so THIS is where that sketch is from...

can you tell I can't write tragedies but enjoy the themes and execution of them so much that I religiously read and corrupt them anyway? yeah 😍

#7 rats holy war melizabeth cinematic universe #idk I'm calling it that now #holy war #melizabeth #not zeldris losing his only friend and brother in a matter of MONTHS. he... he refused to come with... i just remembered he KNOWS...#oh that's hitting me hard. can you blame me for throwing your angst-ridden versions of characters into a timeline where things go better #the angst makes the non-canon compliant daydreams sweeter #so glad the people on Tumblr know exactly what I mean when I say you guys please devour this fanfic Experience 10/10 #i do NOT regret spending 3 months coming up with a very complicated intricately plotted holy war au. that was very difficult.#now when I'm free I'll go back and give them more bloody angst I guess. then more sweetness. thus is the life of me #you. you melted his eye.#not Elizabeth getting beat up by her mother #thus proving herself right to have hidden things. she would have been beaten either way because abusers don't make sense #they only care about control #also did I mention the name you used for the demon palace ROCKS and KICKS ASS #Mel is so traumatized he hates his own home omg #I mean of course he does... but you made it feel REAL #and Elizabeth's obliviousness .... ohhhh you did that good. the demons she could have saved ...#what's not to love!

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terrainofheartfelt · 2 years

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dair + emergency

Dair + Emergency

Every doctor, nurse, and staff person in this ER is dodging Blair’s eye. Typical. It’s not her fault they’re all grossly incompetent.

It’s just as well, if the previous ten briefings she’s had to shake down these people for are any indication, they won’t have anything useful to tell her anyway.

She makes herself pace the length of the waiting area again, if only to calm herself down a little before heading back into the room.

“Blair-bear!”

Her head jerks up at the nickname, and she immediately spots her father and his husband, the latter holding a drink carrier laden with to-go cups.

“We brought hot chocolate!” Roman says, and Blair swears it’s only twenty percent forcibly cheerful. He’s a talent, Roman is.

“How’s the patient?” Harold asks, coming in to kiss Blair on the cheek as Roman hands her one of their cups.

“Fine, I guess,” she sighs down at the plastic coffee lid. “Apparently their radiology department is so very backed up, and because he ‘isn’t critical,’ he’s at the end of the waiting list. So far, all they’ve done is stick him in a room and dose him with painkillers, which any one who reads the New Yorker will tell you is precisely what’s wrong with our medical system.”

Her father blinks at her, taken aback, and so she forces herself to take a breath, and then a sip of the hot chocolate. Oh, Maison, her steadfast friend. Her father hasn’t seen much of her prickly, ranting, bitchy side—by design—but her patience is looking pretty threadbare at the moment. Roman for his part simply looks bemused.

“We just feel awful,” Roman offers, voice dripping with sympathy—Blair knows him well enough now to know its genuine—probably why he did so well as a model in his day. Genuity is difficult to fake, and for a Frenchman, impossible. “Wollman Rink does seem cursed for us, no?”

Blair grimaces around the lid of her cup, but when she looks Roman’s eyes are only sparkling with amusement. He’s too good for her. The same could be said about Dan too. At least this fall wasn’t her fault. It was entirely due to that group of twelve-year-olds trying to do their own Moulin Rouge routine, and poor Dan was too inexperienced a skater to get out of their way in time.

“Some twisted rite of passage,” Blair agrees grimly, making Roman laugh, and Harold smile indulgently, patting her on the shoulder.

She takes another sip of the cocoa, its warmth and richness oddly fortifying. “Thank you,” she says sincerely, gesturing with the cup in her hand. “But you don’t have to stay.”

“Are you sure?” her father checks, concerned.

“It’s fine,” she reassures him. “You’re only in the city for a few more days, you shouldn’t waste one hanging out in the emergency room.”

“We’ve been here plenty of times before, you know.”

Blair smiles, rolling her eyes. “I know. But we’ll be fine, really.” Plus, chances are she’ll have to dress down another George Clooney ER wannabe in the next hour, and she doesn’t really want her dads to see it. It would hardly be in the spirit of the season.

“Okay,” Harold says reluctantly, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek again. “Give Daniel our best, okay?”

“Yes,” Roman adds, throwing an arm around her shoulders with a side-hug as he hands over the drink tray. “Tell Handsome Dan get well soon from us.”

Blair shakes her head, smiling. “I’ll do that.”

She watches her dads round the corner, then takes another deep breath, forcing her shoulder down. Then, she takes one more fortifying sip of cocoa before putting her drink back in the carrier, and walking down the hall, slipping into the room where they’d been holding Dan since their second hour here.

Dan’s face lights up the second he sees her. “Waldorf!”

She makes straight for him, dropping a kiss on top of his head, trying not to focus too much on the temporary splint they have his leg in. “How are you feeling?”

“Oh me?” he slurs, “I’m great.” He blinks blearily up at her, his eyes, normally so sharp, are distant, unfocused, like there’s a light film over them. “You’re pretty.”

“Oh, thank you, Humphrey.” She spares a glance at the tray in her hand, and decides hot liquids are probably counterproductive to this situation, so she turns to set them on the counter far out of Dan’s reach. He watches her the whole time, a dazed smile on his face, so far gone.

“Sorry you’re stuck here,” she sighs, carding a hand through his hair. He bumps his head eagerly into her touch, like a cat, or either of her father’s pets when they’re drunk on attention. “I tried seeing if we could get you an x-ray or even just a consult, but apparently the holidays are rife with way more severe casualties.”

Dan gazes up at her, giving no cue if anything she just said registered. “Marry me,” he says.

She freezes, gaping at him in confusion. “What?”

“Marry me,” he repeats, dopey grin on his face, yet completely sincere.

Blair swallows, pressing her lips tightly together. She should not laugh at him, not in this state. “We’re already married, kitten. For over a year now.”

Dan’s eyes flash with recognition, or happiness, or opiates, but she’s again not sure if he actually heard her.

“You’re pretty,” he repeats. So…maybe?

“Oh, thank you,” Blair twists one of his curls around her finger. “So are you.”

He has the audacity to blush, teeth digging into his lower lip as he grins. Then, after a beat, his expression turns so very earnest again, rife with cloudy-eyed sincerity. “Marry me.”

“Sorry,” Blair teases, holding up her left hand to show her ring, unable to help herself. “I’m taken.”

Dan’s face falls, eyes widening and lips pouting, the textbook definition of pitiful.

It’s going to be a long day.

One word prompts

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