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wren-kitchens · 1 year

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I found this on pinterest earlier and Have Not been able to stop thinking about it and I have no idea if i’m gonna write it but I have to express my thoughts because yes

(this au but like last life people in some kind of modern au)

jizzie (fuck you i’m using that ship name it’s hilarious): the only one in the (newly formed at the start of the au) friendship group who has actually found their soulmates—they were at a concert one time and the performer came on, and lizzie was excited and so grabbed joel’s arm and neither of them noticed their black marks had turned rainbow until halfway through the concert

ethubs (i’m especially insane over this one): etho wears a mask because he has a black handprint on his cheek/jaw and is embarrassed at how it looks like his first touch is his soulmate slapping him—fast forward to him being brave enough to show his closest friend (bdubs) who carefully cups his face against the ‘slap’ mark. both of them are incredibly excited when it promptly turns rainbow

scarian: scar has always had streaks of black in his hair and he just assumed it was some weird genetic thing (and is quite upset that he ‘doesn’t have’ a soulmate). grian was always pretty reserved and doesn’t like touching anyone he’s not incredibly close to, but after a couple months was inseparable with scar but was too shy to actually touch him, until one day when scar admits he thinks he’s unloveable because he has no soulmate, and grian starts running his hands through his hair to calm him down. it definitely works, after the streaks of black and the tips of grians fingers turn rainbow

flower husbands: both scott and jimmy have relatively confusing soulmate marks—scott’s is on his thumb and barely the tips of his index and middle fingers, and jimmy’s is around the edge of his ear. neither of them really understand it, until one day where scott plucks up the courage to tuck a flower behind jimmy’s ear and their marks turn rainbow

#I desperately want to write this but also I know I wouldn’t finish the slow burn fic I have in my mind because i’m too impatient lmfao #I might write the realisation scenes because they’re all very cute #no idea what to call this tbh #any name suggestions for this au are appreciated lmfao #hoax writes #jizzie #ethubs #scarian #flower husbands

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fearandhatred · 3 months

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you knew it still hurts underneath my scars // from when they pulled me apart. - hoax, taylor swift

#fearandhatred #fearandedits #was gonna caption this “your faithless love's the only hoax i believe in” but i felt it was too much of an attack on everyone involved #my goal was to finish the second chapter of my fic today but i did not do that. so here's a quick edit instead #and you may be thinking “you could have used that time to write!” and to that i say. :)#i wish i knew how to colour photos so this would look more visually cohesive but ah well #good omens #good omens season 2 #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #crowley #aziraphale #good omens edit #THIS IS A QUEUED POST. i am asleep

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argylepiratewd · 1 month

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Some Unholy Hoax - Chapter 13

Chapter 13

For new readers: The Beginning

Relationship: Aziraphale/Crowley

Rating: Explicit

In a desperate attempt to delay the Second Coming, Supreme Archangel Aziraphale makes a proposal: Jesus should be completely reborn—gestated for nine months in the human way, then raised to adulthood on Earth. When he volunteers to carry the child himself, he doesn’t think anyone will agree. Somebody, however, does.

What will his unexpected pregnancy do to his strained relationship with Crowley? And what will happen once it becomes apparent that something is very much amiss in this whole “Second Coming” business?

This one earns that Explicit rating again!

#good omens #aziraphale #crowley #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable husbands #ineffable parents #good omens fanfiction #good omens fan fiction #good omens fanfic #mpreg #mpreg fic #mpreg fanfic #cw pregnancy #tw pregnancy #some unholy hoax

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scribbling-dragon · 1 year

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prompt idea: ranchers are very tired from rebuilding their ranch and so don’t think twice about just falling into the (one) bed together

they wake up in the morning Very embarrassed and flustered (and maybe admit some feelings 👀 👀)

moment of peace

summary:

Sleep.

He hums to himself, turning to look at the bed, shoved in the corner of the room, pressed up against the wall and facing the door. He thinks, maybe, it was done so it was in the best and most defensible position, but right now he can hardly think through his sentences without them becoming muddled with exhaustion and confusion.

Sleeping…seems like a good idea right now.

(ao3 link)

(1,839 words)

didnt quite get to the admitting feelings. but they are so somft in this. it's unbelievable (what's also unbelievable is that you wanna reblog this soo bad. ooooh. yeah, you do (is this working?))

His hands ache, dirt caught beneath the fingernails when he turns them over to look at them. He’s almost surprised at the lack of blisters, from the way his skin burns in odd places, just beside the joints, warm to the touch despite the cold evening air. He clenches his hands, watching as they shake for a moment, knuckles turning white, before he relaxes them again.

His entire body feels as though it is weighed down by leaden weights. His shoulders ache from stretching his arms above his head for the whole day, muscles overused from the rebuilding of the ranch. He aches down to his very bones, the ache long-settled within him- he’s been aching since the sun reached its peak, but he hasn't had the opportunity to stop.

The ranch is looking…better. The smell of smoke still fills the air, and he can no longer tell if that’s his imagination, or if the stench of charred wood is simply lingering around the ranch, as though it remains as a warning- a reminder. The grass is burnt and crisp underfoot, of no use to anything they might want to use it for. It spreads, too, a wide patch of browned grass, circling around the entirety of the building.

He pushes the door open, almost tripping over his feet in what could have been his most embarrassing entrance to a room he’s ever made. Tango looks up as he stumbles in through the doorway, bracing an arm against the wall to prevent himself from faceplanting into the floor.

Tango looks just as tired as he feels, ears drooping and tail dragging behind him on the floor, collecting dust and dirt, as though he’s too tired to hold his tail up. Jimmy’s own wings sag behind him, though they're far too short to come anywhere close to dragging on the ground- far too short to be anything but an inconvenience.

He nods in greeting to Tango, feeling far too tired to summon the words to give even the most simple greeting. Simply speaking seems like an insurmountable task, his entire body aching with fatigue as he simply stands there, blinking, and attempting to decide what to do. The ranch is rebuilt- rebuilt as best as it can be with the resources they have, at least. There is a roof over their heads once more, shielding them from the elements, and the holes in the walls have been patched, preventing the wind from snaking in and nipping at their skin as they attempt to sleep.

Sleep.

Sleeping…seems like a good idea right now.

Yeah. Seems like a really good idea, actually.

He shuffles towards the bed, sinking down onto the very edge of it. It creaks beneath his weight, the bedframe dipping towards the floor as he begins to pull his shoes off, nudging them aside with a foot, before he flops back on the bed.

He grimaces as he lands on his back, face twisting as he lands on his wings. Several feathers twist, misaligned from a long day of being buffeted by the wind. If he thinks about it too hard, which he’s trying his very best not to, he can feel each individual piece of dirt and grain of grit lodged between the feathers in his wings.

He can feel a small pulse of concern and confusion across the soulbond, and he rolls onto his side, completely lacking in grace, turning so he’s facing towards Tango, back to the wall. His partner stares back at him, still stood by the chest he had been rooting through when Jimmy entered.

The tip of his tail flicks across the floor, gathering more and more dust. It’s like…a really large feather duster. But if a feather duster was made from fur rather than feathers. He frowns. He’s not sure what that would actually be called- or if such a thing actually exists. Still, Tango’s tail continues to collect dust, simply gathering it up. He frowns a little deeper, staring at it as it continues to sweep across the floor.

He shuffles down the bed a little, pulling the blanket up from the bottom of the bed, tugging it over his shoulders. It’s a little thinner than the blankets he’s used to, but he cosies into it anyway, tucking it beneath his chin, watching as Tango continues to move idly about their small house.

The sound of shifting fur, the soft sound of Tango’s feet padding over the wood, is something familiar to him. Even with the few days they've spent together, the sound has become something he’s grown used to, listening out for it when they lapse into silence. Tango has a habit of making small noises, filling the silence with small sounds.

The first time Tango made a chirping sound, so similar to that of a cat, he hadn't realised Tango had been the one that made it. Only once an odd feeling of embarrassment that wasn't his own washed over the soulbond, did he realise it had been Tango. He hadn't mentioned it, noting Tango’s slightly red face and tense posture, and leaving it alone.

He hums beneath his breath as he works, too, tail twitching along with whatever beat he’s keeping to in his head. With Tango around, the silent moments are never truly silent- they're quiet moments now, filled with the small noises Tango makes as he works, moving about their ranch.

He allows his eyes to slip shut, tugging the blanket a little tighter around himself, content to listen to Tango moving around. He listens, drifting closer and closer to the edge of sleep, as Tango rummages around in their chests once more, the soft sound of items shifting against each other almost drowning out the sound of Tango’s voice completely, muttering to himself as he looks for something specific.

He’s not sure what Tango mutters, not the specifics of it at least, but the sound of his voice is familiar, something he’s grown used to- grown to expect since they've been partnered together.

As such, it’s easy to fall asleep. Laughably easy, to simply sink a little deeper into the bed and relax, letting everything drift away.

=== === ===

The first sensation that he registers, on the verge of waking up, is that there’s something tickling his face. It’s an uncomfortable sensation, one that makes him squirm slightly in an attempt to escape from the tickling feeling. He stills, rather abruptly, when instead of managing to push himself away from the source of his minor discomfort, he’s instead held in place by a slowly tightening pair of arms, accompanied by a short groan.

That’s enough for him to open his eyes, despite the fact that the sun is barely risen and it's still too early for anyone to be moving about the server. At least, anyone with a little self-respect. People like Pearl are up at all hours of the night, though he’s not sure whether it’s with the purpose of inconveniencing Scott, or simply plain-old insomnia.

Still, he is very much awake right now, and trapped in bed by a slowly tightening pair of arms, keeping them pressed close together.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out that it’s Tango pressed up against him, from both the faint smell of smoke and fire that seems to constantly follow the man around, as well as the faint rumbling that he now knows means that the man is purring. Purring.

Now, they may have shared the same bed, rather happily too, for the past few days. Resources are short, and there’s hardly a point in stretching their already meagre resources even further when they can easily share a bed. It had been more convenient at that point, too, with the thin blanket only providing so much warmth, a shared space made it so that neither of them froze their fingers off during the night.

But there had always been a clear divide between their spaces. It wasn't one marked out with pillows, as he has heard people sometimes do - they don't have the resources for that many pillows, either - but simply an unspoken boundary, one that neither of them were willing to cross in fear of what may happen afterwards.

But…he finds himself oddly content like this. Tango has made a rather valiant attempt to smother him completely in his sleep (another point in the nether-cat theory column), and is clinging to him like a limpet to a rock. He can also feel Tango’s tail curled around his calf, the furred tip flicking back and forth idly, brushing along his skin.

If it wasn't for the deep, even breaths he can currently feel brushing against his neck, he’d think the other was awake, but lying just as still as he currently is to avoid waking the other up. But, no, he can feel Tango’s face pressed into his neck, can feel the way the other man shifts and breathes and twitches in his sleep; both of them pressed so closely together that they fit easily onto the single bed, legs tangled up in each other.

It’s actually rather comforting. This small moment of respite amongst the pain and horrors of these games. This brief moment of peace, when everything else is chaos and fire and blood. It’s something he hasn't experienced since the first game- since the first run-through of this song and dance. But the peace then had been derived from their naivety- their lack of knowledge as to what the game truly meant, what would follow once they began turning on each other. The second game was haunted by the ever-looming threat of one of your closest allies turning on you, waiting for the moment you turned your back and found a knife buried in it.

And yet, here, he finds himself comfortable in this moment of peace. It isn't blanketed by naivety, or tainted by distrust of all those he surrounds himself with. Instead, it’s something small and comforting. Something that he might not pay attention to, were they elsewhere. But here, in this moment, he feels entirely at ease.

Perhaps the knowledge that Tango could not- would not, turn on him is what eases his mind so gently. Or, perhaps, it is the simple fact that he can feel his heart thrumming just beneath his skin, and, if he concentrates, can feel another thrumming just beside it, beating to the same rhythm.

He closes his eyes again, curling closer to the warmth that Tango radiates. The soft smell of fire and brimstone hang heavy in the air, yet it’s so incredibly familiar when it comes to Tango.

Five more minutes won't hurt, certainly.

#asks #hoax the ghost #juno.writes #solidaritek #double life smp #dlsmp #trafficshipping #team rancher #ranch duo #jimmy solidarity #tango tek #solidaritygaming #tangotek #solidarity gaming #dlsmp fic #double life smp fic

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gojonanami · 2 months

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honestly I never know how fics will do but I’m so glad you guys have enjoyed fake dating gojo so much 💕

also I got to use a lyric from one of my favorite songs for it 🥹💕

#sab speaks #it’s hoax by Taylor swift #that song is probably top five for me #but that changes all the time #but hoax has remained a constant lmao #I also was very meh about this fic #I really didn’t know how I felt about it I tried super hard #but I felt like I didn’t do as well as I could #but to see so many enjoy it makes me happy 🫶

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zukkaart · 4 months

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YueZula is my crack ship so here’s a little au video/trailer for a one shot fic that I may or may not write this week. Please enjoy

Plot: Ozai knows Zhaos plan to kill the moon and locks Azula up in the palace instead of letting her join the siege, Azula lays a plan to make Yue stay out of the fighting, obviously Yue does not do that, Azula spirals when she finds out she lost her love, kills Ozai, becomes fire lord, ends the war but loses her mind in the process

#avatar the last airbender #atla #yue #yue x azula #yuezula #hoax #fic idea #Azula #atla azula #Azula avatar #fire lord azula #princess Yue #sun and moon #ozai #fic trailer

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thedvilsinthedetails · 3 months

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The only hoax I believe in?? Please elaborate??

ooooh yay ok so basically it stemmed from the idea of a modern boarding school rosekiller au

but also I was thinking of actually making it a longer series with separate fics for each ship (rosekiller, pandalily, Wolfstar, starchaser and maybe Dorlene but I’m less good at writing dorlene so they might already be together)

but basically I’ve focused on the rosekiller one for now bc idk if I’ll extend it but if I do it would actually be titled ‘my only one, my smoking gun’ as part of a wider ‘the only hoax I believe in’ collection

here is some rosekiller fluff:

(the only time Barty ever gets outwardly embarrassed is around Evan and I hc that so hard he’ll never show insecurity otherwise but around Evan he’s a mess [in a good way ofc] )

#hoax fic #current wip #jamie answers asks #Rosekiller

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chiefdirector · 1 year

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hoax | Folklore | Mike Ross x Harvey Specter | Suits

My only one; my smoking gun.

Harvey had always seen a part of himself in Mike, he supposed that was why they got along so well. They shared so many morals and views and yet Mike rivalled Harvey’s worldview. Maybe that was why Harvey loved him so much, or maybe it was the Mike looked at him.

He looked at like like he had hung the stars in the skies. For so long, Harvey had felt like his deserved his solitude in life, but by God did Mike Ross change that. He had started to begin to think that he could be happy; that they could be happy. But then Mike had to go and be a martyr.

My eclipsed sun, this has broken me down

Anita Gibbs had it out for Harvey from the get go. She wanted to crumble down the towers he had built for himself, his life, his kingdom. Every impenetrable wall he spent years masterfully constructed because of his and Mike’s dirty little secret. He almost had everything he wanted in life; he was one of the best lawyers in New York, he had Mike, Jessica, and Donna.

The sun was setting on his perfect life because of Anita Gibbs. He couldn’t beat her. He had to play her game and he was losing.

My twisted knife; my sleepless night

The first night without Mike wasn’t the hardest, nor was it the second, third, or even fourth. The worst night was around the two week mark when the bedsheets had been changed and the bedroom tidied. When Harvey couldn’t smell the faintness of Mike’s aftershave, or when Harvey couldn’t see the pile of clothes that used to drive him absolutely insane. The hardest part was when he could feel what traces of Mike had had left slip through his fingers like sand in a timer.

He thought he had no right to complain. Mike was the one in prison, Mike took the fall, Mike lost his life. And yet, Harvey was the one with the sleepless nights and the biggest regrets.

You know I left a part of me back in New York

Even though he didn’t leave the city, it certainly didn’t feel like home anymore. Harvey wasn’t sure when home had shifted from the imposing skyscrapers and the brooding populous to the smartass associate of his, from the sleepless mornings to the sleepless nights, to the warmth of dah to the cool evenings.

New York didn’t feel like New York at all. It was a place barren of all things good and Harvey, for the first time in his life, was desperate to leave. If it wasn’t for Mike he would be a bat out of Hell. Correction: if it wasn’t for Mike, he wouldn’t feel like this in the slightest, and yet he doesn’t regret loving him in the slightest.

You knew it still hurts underneath my scars from when they pulled me apart

Even after Mike came home, and his scent returned to the apartment - as well as the mess pile of clothes - Harvey still felt the big gaping hole in his chest. For a time he thought that it was a manifestation of his internal grief and that it would never go away, but he now realised it was the physicality of being in love. The hurt came along with the pleasure.

The pain would remain with him for as long as he would remember. He could be old and senile but still remember the pain. The pain would be endless but worth it if it meant that he could love Mike Ross forevermore. It was a small price to pay for their freedom; for his freedom.

Don't want no other shade of blue but you; No other sadness in the world would do

Maybe that was it. The lesson he had to learn. Harvey was a stubborn woman, he would be the first of many to admit that in a court of law but even he could change. And if Harvey Specter, ‘the greatest closer in New York City,’ could change then maybe, just maybe there would be for the legal system. And if the legal system could change, then it could be changed by them.

Mike being able to practice was the first step of many but it was the right step to take. Harvey was just thankful that he could take that step alongside him.

Masterlist

#chiefdirector #taylor swift folklore #hoax taylor swift #songfic #harvey x mike #mike ross #marvey #suits #harvey specter #Harvey Specter x Mike Ross #fic

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plush4bunny · 1 year

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Dick Suskind! Based on @chrism02′s angsty fic about him as an idiot in love with another idiot called ‘Write Away’ 🤲💗🥺

#mind you that fic made me cry buckets more than the og film #back on my bullshit again and making fanart for my tumblr crush #alfred molina #richard suskind #dick suskind #the hoax 2006 #dick you cinnamon roll #fanart #character design #digital illustration

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apricusapollo · 1 year

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posted the first chapter of marauders white collar au

#crys' silly little jegulus white collar au #marauders era #jegulus #regulus black #james potter #white collar #i love this show so much jesus christ #fic: hoax

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wren-kitchens · 1 year

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I have no idea if i’ll end up finishing this but I am quite proud of it so here’s a little scarian hurt/comfort

it basically takes place directly after they die in double life, let’s pretend there’s a temporary afterlife just for the sake of it

cw: mentions of death, self-loathing

grian jerks upright, breath ragged and hoarse, clawing at the front of his jumper. the air is still, everything is silent, he’s surrounded by darkness.

he’s dead- scar is dead, because of grian’s own stupidity. because of his own hubris, because of his own pride, because of his determination to prove himself.

well, grian has proven himself, alright. proven to be a selfish monster, who couldn’t give a shit about the people around him until it’s too late.

his breath isn’t coming any easier, maybe worse now, tearing into his throat with every gasp. grian wonders if it’s possible to die in the afterlife. grian wonders if maybe he deserves it.

scar- god, scar. he deserved none of it—deserves nothing to do with grian, or these disgusting games, or anything like this again.

grian said he cared about scar. but what has he done but hurt scar? hiding their soulbound, talking down the jellies, ignoring him, cheating with bigb, killing him.

it’s no wonder scar is nowhere to be seen. he’s no idiot, despite what grian insisted to himself. scar knows he doesn’t deserve what grian puts him through, he’s gone back to hermitcraft. with any luck, he’ll be avoiding grian until one of them leave.

hot tears have begun to pour down grian’s face, and he coughs out a breath. scar shouldn’t have to hide away, because of grian’s actions. no, that shouldn’t be his burden. when grian gets back, he’ll talk to xisuma. he’ll say he- he has too many projects elsewhere, x will understand.

his chest hurts, a hollow aching for something shouldn’t be allowed to have. but it’s what has to be done, there’s nothing else for it. scar, mumbo, everyone. they don’t deserve to deal with him. he won’t make them a moment longer.

grian struggles to his feet. no time like the present, huh?

he’s only just set off, when he hears a shout from behind him that makes him freeze.

“grian! grian, oh goodness, there you are!”

he doesn’t have time to react before he’s tackled from behind in a hug from scar. maybe he gave scar too much credit for knowing what he deserves.

grian’s body is tense, and scar pulls back after a moment. “g?”

“scar,” grian’s voice is scratchy. he doesn’t turn to look at scar’s face. “you have to go.”

“what?” scar gives a nervous little chuckle.

“you can’t- you can’t stay around me anymore.” grian tells him.

“g, I don’t understand.”

“you have to leave me, scar.” grian’s voice breaks around his name. “you don’t- I can’t hurt you anymore.”

“hurt me?” scar’s hand is on his shoulder, warm and sturdy and comforting, and everything grian shouldn’t be allowed to feel. “what do you mean?”

tears are spilling down his face again. “scar, please.”

“i’m- g, i’m not leaving you.” scar says.

grian takes a step forward, and scar’s hand falls off his shoulder. “then i’ll go.”

“no, grian-“ scar catches his wrist before he leaves, and pulls him closer. he turns grian to face him, and grian can hear the breath catch in scar’s throat. “what- what’s happened?”

“I have to go.” grian says, barely a whisper.

“where are you going?” scar says, a kind of hurt in his eyes.

“away.” grian says. “I can’t keep- keep doing this to you, scar.”

“you’ve done nothi-“

“i’ve done everything!” grian sobs. “I pretended we weren’t soulbound, I shut you down at every point you tried to talk to me, I betrayed you, i killed you.”

“what makes you think i’m any better?” scar asks. “or the rest of us, for that matter? that’s the whole point of these games-“

“who made them, scar?” grian demands.

“grian, you can’t believe-“

“you- you don’t understand.” grian shakes his head, hugging himself, stepping backwards. “if I get- if I get too close, i-“ he chokes up.

“‘too close’? grian what’s-“

“I hurt you, scar.” grian says. “every time you get near, I hurt you again and again and again.”

there’s tears glistening in scar’s eyes as he shakes his head.

“I can’t keep doing that to you.” grian says. “I can’t, I- I can’t.”

“what are you going to do, grian?” scar says, softly.

“i’m- when we get back,” grian’s whole body aches, hurting like a heartbreak. “i’m leaving. for- for good.”

scar makes a noise stuck between a cry and a gasp. “you- no, grian.”

“scar-“

“no.” scar takes grian’s hands. “you- not- you’re not leaving me, grian. I won’t let you.”

“I need to.” grian whispers. his voice won’t go any louder.

“I won’t let you.” scar repeats. “you said you didn’t want to hurt me?”

grian nods, voice caught in his throat.

“then stay with me.” scar begs.

“you- you don’t understand what you’re doing.” grian says.

“I understand perfectly.” scar says, crying now. “I love you, grian.”

grian bites back a sob. he can’t, he doesn’t understand, he doesn’t know who grian is, he can’t.

“scar, you can’t.” grian says. “I have to go, you can’t- you can’t-“

“why can’t I?” scar says. “I know exactly who you are, grian, don’t you forget that.”

“and you love me anyway?” grian asks, because how, how can scar know so much about him, know everything, and not be repulsed?

“I love you, because of you, g.” scar is smiling.

it’s not bright, or full of laughter and warmth, like it usually is. no, it’s a small, sad, defeated little thing. scar smiles with tears in his eyes, and an air of desperation and despair, and they’ve just died and it was all grian’sfault, and scar chooses to forgive him despite it all.

and grian sobs as scar pulls him into a hug, because he’s unforgivable, and grian has done so many awful things, and scar should loathe him with every fibre of his being, but he doesn’t, despite it all.

because scar is ridiculous and naïve, sweet, and kindhearted, and believes in happy endings and second chances, and thinks grian deserves both despite it all.

grian is cold, and bitter, and jealous, and cutthroat, and traitorous, and everything scar isn’t.

but scar is sly, and cheating, and tricksy, and lying. and grian is bright, and cheeky, and happy, and sunlight.

and maybe, just maybe, there’s room for change in those boxes.

“please stay with me.” scar whispers. “I need you with me.”

“i’ll hurt you.” grian says. “I can’t hurt you again.”

“you can’t hurt me. not in any way that matters. not if you stay.” scar tells him. “I can’t-“ his voice breaks. “I can’t lose you, g.”

scar’s voice is pained, and desperate. grian never wants to hear it sound like that again.

“okay.” grian says softly.

“‘okay’?” scar pulls away slightly, so he can see grian’s face. “okay what?” there’s so much hope in his expression, it almost hurts.

“i’ll stay.” grian says.

“you- you will?” scar says. “you’ll stay?”

grian nods, and underneath all the fear and dread and hate, something inside him glows. faintly, gently, barely a flicker. but it glows.

“thank god.” scar mumbles, and pulls grian into another hug, stroking his hair.

this time, grian hugs back. “i’m so sorry.” he’s crying again.

“i’m sorry.” scar says. “I shouldn’t have just ignored you—I was just running off as you were trying to tell me I was your soulmate.”

#scarian #mention of death #(in game)#I forgot how to tag fics on tumblr #scarian fic #hoax writes #trafficshipping #hermitshipping

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