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spamgyu · 29 days

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Disconnected Calls // Seungcheol Oneshot

DESCRIPTION: All his choices to put his career and his team first never led to any regrets; all except his choice to cut his ties with you. PARING: Seungcheol x Reader GENRE: Angst

There was no one else to blame for his heartache but himself.

He was the one that ended the relationship.

He was the one that chose to do it over the phone – too much of a coward to tell you in person.

He was the one that chose to block your phone number and social media accounts.

He was the one that shut you out, not even bothering to take a second glance back at the relationship he once held so near and dear to his heart.

At the time, Seungcheol felt that he was doing what was right – putting his duties as a leader of his group first, prioritizing the band of brothers that he swore he would never turn his back on.

It wasn't that you were asking him to choose, no you would never do that. You loved those twelve boys just as much as he did.

Hell, you didn't ask for anything.

You were completely fine with being at the bottom of his list when it came to his priorities. You loved him, and you knew before entering a relationship with a member of one of the biggest boygroups in the industry that this came with a whole lot of baggage – you were willing to overlook it all.

As their success and schedules began to pick up, you were getting pushed lower and lower on that list – in fact, by the last few months of the relationships you weren't even on the list.

He had given in to the pressure of his role and decided to cut you loose – unable to balance his work life and love life. You wanted to put up a fight that night, he could hear it in your voice, but you didn't.

In moments of stillness, when he was alone with nothing but his thoughts, his mind would wander back to that night; his brain replaying the sound of his cold voice back to him.

"Let's end this. I'm tired, and I know you are too." His voice was monotonous, as if he was delivering the news to a business partner or a staff member – as if he didn't ever call you the love of his life.

"Oh." Seungcheol could hear your heart breaking from the other line, but he had his mind set and he was going to proceed with it.

"It was fun, y/n. Thank you."

"I– Yeah, you too." He knew you were holding back a sob.

It had been nearly two and half years since that day, and instead of healing, Seungcheol felt as though the gaping wound in his heart had grown larger as each day passed.

It was as if the pain grew stronger with each season.

He was the one that shut you out and yet, he continued to search for your face in the midst of a crowd – in hopes that maybe one day, he would see you again. Through all the mix of voices, he always tried to listen closely; just in case he could hear that melodic voice that was once his favorite song to hear.

Seungcheol knew he fucked up, there was no denying that; but he also knew that trying to reach out was of no use – not when he knew how badly he had broken you.

Feeling the couch cushion next to him sink in, Seungcheol turned to face the body that had occupied the space – pulling a tight lipped smile to greet his member.

"I– Look, I told Jeonghan that it might not be the best idea," Mingyu nervously toyed with the plastic case protecting his phone, glancing over to the older boy who had sent him over standing across the practice room – keeping a close eye on them two. "But he said you deserved to know, for– uh... for closure."

Seungcheol sat quietly, waiting for Mingyu to go on.

"She's engaged." Mingyu mumbled. He could have been speaking in jibberish and Seungcheol would have been able to decipher it.

Mingyu didn't have to say who; he knew exactly who he was talking about. You had been the one and only girl that had this effect on Seungcheol; everyone was well aware of that.

They knew the battle he faced every day in his head; the twelve taking turns giving him their own words of advice to help him possibly move on.

But there was no moving on. Not from you.

A ringing sound began in his ears, drowning out the indistinct conversations that was taking place all around him. Seungcheol knew this day was bound to happen, he just didn't think it would happen so soon.

Was this the reason why you never put up a fight?

Did you already have someone waiting in-line, waiting for him to fuck up?

"I– I tell them I don't feel good." Seungcheol shot up out of his seat, bounding for the door – ignoring all the confused stares from his group and staff members.

He was in no state to practice today... or tomorrow.

Or maybe the next few weeks.

Seungcheol didn't know where he was heading, all he knew was that the room that could easily fit a hundred people suddenly felt small – as if the walls and ceiling was closing in on him. The air in his lungs felt thick by the time he reached the threshold of the door, clutching the fabric of his shirt – his poor attempts to free his neck from the constricting feeling of the collar.

His vision was just about to go dark when he felt someone tug his arm, spinning him around.

"Hey," It was Jeongan. "Don't– where are you going?"

"I don't know."

Jeonghan scanned his best friends face, trying to read him. There was nothing but pain, painted across his face. He knew not a single one of his attempts to try to make Seungcheol stay would work. "Don't do anything stupid."

"Already did." He let out a bitter chuckle.

"This isn't the end of the world, you know that right." Jeonghan spoke slowly.

When he and Mingyu had found out about your engagement through a mutual friend, they stood in shock. There was never a timeline when it came to love, if someone decided they wanted to marry the person they were with after three months of dating, so be it.

Though, that didn't stop the two from being taken aback by the news – despite encouraging their best friend to move on from you. It wasn't that they didn't like you, in fact they loved you. They had only ever envisioned their eldest member with one girl, and it was you.

But what were they to do? This was the last and final sign that the universe had given for Seungcheol to move on.

"I know." Seungcheol managed to croak out. "I– I'm sorry I really need to get out of here."

Jeonghan nodded. "Keep your location on."

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

He had spent the last four hours driving aimlessly. Home wasn't a choice, not when every corner of his apartment still held memories of you – he may have taken images of you down but your presence remained. There was no getting rid of you. Not when his apartment had become your second home throughout your time together.

He couldn't bring himself to go to his favorite places either, knowing that those were once places he took you to.

Every part of this damned city reminded him of you.

Your ghost constantly haunting him.

Finally growing tired of the constant turns and u-turns, Seungcheol pulled into a random parking space – pulling out his phone to dial the phone number he had known by heart.

He knew there was no use in calling it; it had been disconnected months after the break up. He didn't care.

In all his moments, through the highest of highs and the lowest of lows, Seungcheol gave the number a call – sending a voicemail out into the void. It wasn't the best coping mechanism, and if anyone were to find out that he had done this on a regular basis, they would have put a stop to it – just as they had done when they had found out he had still held onto the items you had left behind.

Seungcheol knew this wasn't healthy, but this was the only thing that kept him together – because maybe, just maybe, in an alternate universe, you heard all the messages he left you.

"H-hey, Y/n. I– today isn't a good day." His voice was shaky. "I found out you're engaged. Mingyu told me. I– I bet the ring is beautiful, if he had listened to you. I know how much you wanted that emerald cut ring– I hope he got it right. I– fuck."

Seungcheol coulnd't hold it in any longer, the tears had began rushing down his face – as if the dam walls had been broken. "I want to be happy for you, Y/n– but fuck that should have been me. That was supposed to be me. I was supposed to buy you that ring and– Y/n please I– I'm still here. You're the one, you've always been the one and–"

Just as he hadn't been able to hold back the tears, neither could he for his sobs. The pain that once was just limited to the area around his heart had now radiated throughout his body.

He had thought that when this moment had come, he would have been in a better state – but somehow, he felt as though he had been kicked down lower. He felt as though he had been stomped on, beaten.

Seungcheol had reached a whole new low.

It took him a few minutes to regain composure, using the sleeves of his black hoodie to wipe away the moisture left on his face. "This is it, huh?" He cleared his throat. "I need to finally walk away, huh? I– I need to move on like you did, huh?"

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

Unbeknownst to Seungcheol, you had been doing the same.

Somewhere across the city, you were sat in your room; suppressing the tears and sob that threatened to escape your lips.

This was supposed to be the happiest moment of your life, the man of your dreams (or so you thought) had asked for your hand in marriage.

It may have only been a year since you two had made it official but for the first time in a long while he showed you that it was possible to love someone agian; and at the time it felt right. You stopped leaving voicemails on a number that had been long disconnected – the one that you had memorized by heart.

But old habits die hard, and as you stared at the oval cut ring on your finger – the other hand had subconsciously dialed his number.

It had been a long time since you had done this.

"Seungcheol, if you're out there– if you somehow get this– I– I made a mistake." You said in almost a whisper, lips quivering as you began to speak your thoughts aloud. "He– I thought I loved him. I really did. He made me feel happy again, he– he treats me so well. But the moment I saw that ring, I thought of you– I– he got it wrong."

You eyed the ring as you sucked in a breath of air. "It's silver. The band is silver. I don't own silver jewelry– It's oval, not the emerald cut we talked about– I can't help but think that you would have gotten it right. I don't even know why I said yes– fuck, am I stupid for saying yes?"

As a tear escaped your eye, you let out a laugh. This was ridiculous; pathetic even.

All while everyone congratulated you for this new milestone, you were calling the man that had left you hanging – the reason for your tears.

"It's not like you would be here to catch me if I said no, right?"

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@thegirlwhoimagined @forcheol @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @f4iryjjosh @akeminy @yonabutnotyuna @tacosandbitch @aaniag @bettybotterboughtabitofbutter @xbaekcult @alwaysalmostthere @ashkuuuu @morkswatermelonnnn @isabellah29 @lottogyu @bubbly-moon @lllucere @bo-fairykim @pluviophile-xxx @daegutowns @niktwazny303 @fragmentof-indifference @leah-rose03 @haolistic @eclliipsed @joshuahongnumbers @gyuguys @yaaaridk @christinewithluv @yoonzinoooo @livelikejinki @watercolureyes @whoa-jo @primoisellerose @wonwoobestboyy @rakshithanotrao @mingcouper @aksweet7 @nikkell @raginghellfire @kriizztin

(for some reason it's not allowing me to tag some who wanted to be added to the perm tag list ... cries... pls check ur settings so i can for future posts)

#i did say that i was going to write my own take of how each boy messed up their relationship didn't i...... cheol girlies... it's ur turn #laughs in evil #ngl this one actually hurt me too #pls dont fight me omfg #scoups x reader #scoups scenarios #scoups angst #seungcheol x reader #svt angst #seventeen angst #seungcheol angst #choi seungcheol

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beanghostprincess · 3 months

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I am so normal when writing break-ups. The most normal person in the world. Mental stability 10/10.

TW for ??? I don't know what the hell I just wrote. I guess implied Eating Disorder and Suicidal thoughts, and whatever the fuck this is because I don't know--

This is Sanuso btw. I had too much fun writing fluff now it's time for the angst.

The plot is basically Sanji breaking up with Usopp for reasons I cannot explain yet because I'm gonna drop this fanfic like a bomb in a few days when it's done and then run away.

#i feel a bit evil for this one ngl #but you know what sometimes you have to be angsty to be poetic and that's okay #they have a happy ending don't yell at me i am incapable of writing angst. it's always with hurt/comfort #the thing is. sanji is bad at break ups. funny because he's the one breaking up with usopp. but you'll see #also sanji never beating the bpd allegations #one piece #sanuso #black leg sanji

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knifeforkspooncup · 5 days

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Trying this new thing where I open all my wips at once and flit between them, writing a bit here, a bit there, a sentence in this one, a paragraph in that one.

Anytime I get stuck I switch to the another fic.

Hopefully if keep up this human pinballing long enough, I'll have 5 complete fics.

Hopefully.

🙃

#1st one is hurt hurt hurt/comfort #2nd one is fluffy smut #3rd one is a mythical AU #4th one is Nanny Ashtoreth fan service #5th one might end up being comic #this is working surprisingly well ngl #good omens #aziracrow #crowley #aziraphale #good omens art #good omens fanfiction #writing process

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cookies-over-yonder · 10 months

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The dads take a rest at another inn after Darryl obtains his anchor, and Grant has a rough night.

ao3

Darryl wakes with a start. Something is wrong. He can feel it.

The sound of quick and staggered breaths beside him is enough to confirm that suspicion.

Despite the dark, Darryl can still make out Grant's shaking figure, turned away from him.

"Grant?"

Darryl hears a sharp inhale followed by silence.

His hand makes its way to the still shaking shoulder of the figure in front of him, and he gingerly shakes it. "Kid?"

Grant lets out a large sigh, only for it to be cut off by a sob.

"Kiddo, what's wrong?" Darryl asks, soft and sincere.

No response.

"Come on, talk to me."

After a moment, Grant sits up, frantically wiping his tears, and Darryl follows, sitting beside him.

The kid looks a lot less out of it, but a lot more distressed.

"Um—" he clears his throat. "You know—you know how I said, uh, Yeet told me about how he was, like, feeling—err, not feeling anything?"

Grant is breathing shakily.

"Yeah," Darryl says, pushing down the part of him that wants to immediately soothe his son. He needs to listen first.

"It—it—it's scary… and, um, he'd been having, uh, nightmares too, and even when he wasn't having those, he would still lay awake thinking about them, and thinking about the memories…" Grant pulls his knees up to his chest and clutches them, staring straight ahead. "And it… it wasn't… I don't know… I…"

Grant's eyes are wide, and the words are briefly stuck in his throat. "Just. Scared. For him."

And without a second to spare, Grant buries his head in his knees, with his arms gripping himself tightly.

He shakes his head.

"I—I'll be fine, Dad, don't worry about it," Grant mumbles into his knees.

Darryl wraps his arms around Grant, and he tenses up for a moment. While debating whether to let go, Darryl's decision is made when the grip Grant has on himself loosens a little.

Grant's arms make their way around Darryl, and his fingers clutch the fabric of his shirt. The kid is trembling violently against him.

"Of course I'm worried about you, kid. I love you."

"I—"

Rapid breaths cut off whatever Grant would have said, and all that comes out is a panicked squeak.

"Grant, hey," Darryl pulls away and looks at him, holding onto his arms to keep him grounded.

Another panicked squeak is all Grant can muster. His eyes are shut tight, and his cheeks are flushed and stained with tears. His breaths are quick and shallow and out of control, as far as Darryl can tell.

" Dad— " he forces out. It's so small, and so hurt, and so scared, and so broken. Then, he opens his eyes. They're wide, and locked straight ahead. Grant is fully hyperventilating now. Whatever mask of 'I'm okay, I'm fine' he had on before has completely shattered by now.

"Hey, hey, hey," Darryl brushes Grant's hair away from his eyes.The kid's forehead is wet with sweat. "I'm right here, it's okay, you're gonna be okay, kid… we're gonna do a breathing exercise, alright?"

Grant jerks his head in a gesture that Darryl understands as a nod of affirmation.

"Okay, okay, breathe in with me."

Darryl takes in a long, loud, and exaggerated breath.

He can see Grant struggle to obtain control over his lungs.

"God—I—sorry," Grant stutters, "I'm sorry, sorry, I—"

A sob wracks Grant's body, and the heels of his hands press into his eyes.

Darryl feels his own heart break. Grant is in front of him, muttering apologies through what looks like an anxiety attack.

It dawns on Darryl that Grant thinks this is something he should apologize for.

Grant's hands make their way up to his hair and he starts tugging at it until his knuckles turn white.

"Kiddo, don't do that," Darryl places his hands over Grant's and the tight grip he has on his hair goes slack—like a surrender. While pulling Grant's hands away from his hair and holding them in his own, Darryl looks him in the eyes."You'll hurt yourself."

For a second, Grant just stares back, wide-eyed. Darryl thinks he can briefly see Grant shift into the apathetic shell of himself he'd been for the past little while, but then he breaks down into sobs more hysterical than before.

Somehow, he thinks his words made this worse, but he doesn't want to think about why.

"Kid, kid, kid, hey, it's oka—"

"It's—it's not , Dad," Grant snaps. He's still gasping for air, but he is loud .

"It's not okay!" he shouts, gripping Darryl's hands hard. "I'm…"

He deflates. His voice is small and weak and devoid of any and all fervor it had a second ago.

" I'm not…" he trails off.

"Come here," Darryl says softly, slipping his hands out of Grant's grasp and wrapping his arms around the kid. He's still gasping for air as he melts into the hug.

"Breathe, just breathe. Follow me."

Grant presses himself against Darryl's chest. Darryl isn't sure whether it was to follow the rise and fall of his breathing or… another reason, but it warms his heart either way.

Eventually, he takes a slightly slower breath in.

"Now breathe out."

Darryl lets out a long exhale ending with a whistle.

Grant's exhale is more like a sigh from someone who'd just been rescued from drowning, taking in and letting out air like they thought they'd never see it again. Quick and shallow, but alive.

"We're gonna do it again now," Darryl scrambles to say when Grant's breathing picks up once more.

This time is still rough. Grant is still gasping, but he seems to be gaining a little more control.

Darryl finds himself quickly blinking away his own wave of fresh tears.

After a few more rounds of guided breathing, Grant finally calms a little.

He's gripping onto Darryl's shirt with his face pressed against it, breathing softer.

Darryl places one hand on his back and another on the back of his head, and he plants a small kiss on the top of it.

"It's gonna be okay, kiddo."

☆

Henry lightly knocks on the door to Darryl's room before opening it quietly.

"Darryl? Everything okay? I thought I heard something," he whispers, but then he lays his eyes on what appears to be Grant sleeping soundly against Darryl's chest. His face is red and blotchy, and his fingers are curled around the fabric of Darryl's shirt.

"Think he woke up and started panicking. That or he didn't sleep," Darryl whispers back. "Shaking, crying, and started breathing too fast. I, uh, did a breathing exercise with him, just like you would…"

Henry feels a warmth wash over him at the words. "I'm proud of you Darryl, that's great."

"Thanks, man," Darryl rubs circles into Grant's back as he sleeps, "I'm scared for him," he whispers, quieter than before.

"Well, we're all here to support him, aren't we? I'm sure he'll be alright."

"I think I messed up, Henry."

"What?"

"Kid's ashamed of himself. And, and he uh, I don't think he knows he can come to me."

"Well, you can make it known now, can't you?"

"Henry I… I'd never seen him break like that before. And, and, I got the feeling that it wasn't the first time."

#grant wilson #dndads #fic #cookies writes and cookies wrongs #i'm ngl this fic makes me super sad now #i wrote it before i finished season one #and now i'm really sad knowing grant doesn't get the help he needed #and he's been changed irreversibly #hurt/comfort #augh #this pains me #anyways enjoy

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vesselmade · 5 months

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time was spent training , keeping busy so as to not let thoughts wander too far. the box had been open , the seal now broken and after nineteen days his sensei had returned. he felt a sense of gratitude , but beneath that , it was difficult to find genuine happiness or cause for celebration , given the grim reality he faced. he’d lost everything. sukuna took and took , leaving itadori to endure the brunt of the suffering. it had become a familiar ache , a constant companion. he had grown accustomed to it over time , building a resilience that made him feel impervious to further pain. he had tough skin — he’d handle it one way or another.

recently sleep had become a rare visitor to itadori. even when he was sukuna's vessel , he found moments to rest. but times had changed. sitting outside with the moon full and stars bright itadori reveled in the silence and peace the late hours offered. he didn't lament when he caught wind of another voice breaking the stillness of the night. if anything , he welcomed it — a respite from the solitary musings of his own mind.

❛ i’m not leaving you out here alone. ❜ / @nvictive

❛❛ well . . . feel free to join me then. I wanted to talk to you anyways. ❜❜ he glances up before looking straight ahead. it was hard to make eye contact knowing what's been done with his own hands. his throat grew tight and he bit down on the inside of his cheek as though to hold back tears. he looks down , suddenly ashamed. ❛❛ have they told you what happened yet? after you were sealed? ❜❜

#answered.#WOW im sad #he needs his dad ok :((#i love them tho...best father and son #this one kinda hurt to write ngl #but i hope u enjoy !!

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nerdynikki94 · 9 months

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Honestly? Did I want more from DTAMHD? Yes, I did. I wanted something signifying actual progression for Dennis' character (even just a crumb of genuine growth) , and I sincerely don't think we got that. However... we did get a fascinating insight into the process of his mind. Dennis' level of self-denial is so ironic and profound. He can't acknowledge the inevitability that he's middle-aged.

(I swear this episode honestly has given me an alt hc, that the show is based in his mind; because logistically, a man of his lifestyle and malnourishment could not commit the feats he is constantly sailing through. TGGB & DTAMHD... back-to-back? What happened to his hand? Did he even sprain it? Or is he just the most dramatic brat in the gang - clearly the latter.)

It is important to note that he didn’t fix the actual problem. He momentarily masked the symptoms, but ignore long-term help with blood pressure medicine is not going to fix the issue, nor is it going to protect him from fucking keeling over in a stressful situation (when he's not in a contained and quiet Doctor's exam room) and his blood pressure spikes.

I'm honestly a little jaded at this point (16 Fucking Seasons of crumbs, y'all), but if one were to continue 'trusting the structure' this episode conveyed a lot.

The B Plot: The pressure cooker. The metaphor parallels the building pressure Dennis quick-tempered bouts of rage. So, to toss out a little 'cat-in-the-wall' conjecture here: The pressure cooker is Dennis, but we all saw him eat that bloody diamond in the end and we all heard Mac's speech about coal turning into diamonds under massive pressure. Dennis' experience is a theory of pressure, he daydreams it all in the span of a minute or so. He's roleplaying with hypothetical obstacles. There's no risk. Maybe Dennis, isn't the pressure cooker, but the coal.

If I were to try and take anything hopeful out of this episode, it would be the way the narrative is showing us that this episode acknowledged that Dennis isn't ready yet. It's not his turn to break. It's going to take real, substantial pressure to get that diamond.

It was a hell of a misdirect (and honestly a little bit of a slap in the face), but if these characters live in the real world, where people are bound by the laws of mortality, then Dennis should have his time.

Genuinely, who fucking knows?

I'm not hating on the episode. We all know this is the trashy dick joke sitcom. I just thought that if Mac & Charlie could have moments of genuine heartbreak, culminating in deep catharsis, that maybe Dennis could have that too.... but no.

Can't wait to see the sunny dudebros miss the point & proclaim Dennis Reynolds - SA victim, traumatized individual with an emotionally tumultuous personality disorder - the new Andrew Tate.

I'm sorry, but yeah. I'm a little miffed. It was all a dream, and everything goes Dennis' way. Y'all I'm fucking tired. This was a great episode for Glenn, but a fucking frustrating episode for Dennis. I may have wanted a little macden, but all I cared about was seeing Dennis face the limitations of his mortality, to see that he's failing his body and his brain. He didn't have to actually take the medicine (I wouldn't expect him to), but Goddammit, everything seems to work out in his delusional favor. So, of course he's going to continue being delusional, and probably only change for the worse.

I'll say it: I wanted a broken Dennis, and we did not get that. He didn't even crack, the unbearble and apparently now canonical Golden God. That episode's title was intended to tease sunnyblr.

Excuse the plethora of tags. I just kept getting more irritated.

#what i take from the episode is further insight to the lengths of Dennis' repression which adds to my fic #iasip s16 #i will say this: i can't dislike this episode solely because of how phenomenal glennjamin's performance was.#I'd say I'm retracting the title of macden 'truther'. I'm still a stan. but this ep made me realize dennis is too coddled by the narrative #with TGGB he's constantly winning. even the game he doesn't stay to watch the end of. his body performing near miracles. wtf #the real reason I'm seriously bothered is the sunny dudebros. they already idolize dennis #this ep has only made it worse because the obvious point of Dennis' actual delusions will go right over their heads.#anybody with a grounded sense of reality can tell you that dennis did not solve a problem #he dreamt up a scenario in some kind of toxic meditation session. he's getting older. and his denial is metastasizing #Dennis' denial isn't sustainable. I'm kind of cutting off my investment in that regard. he's a fucking mess & he's currently being idolized #dennis reynolds #definitely not my favorite episode. not bc of lack of macden. a little bc Den needs limitations. mainly bc 'it was all a dream' is cheap #ranting.excuse me for wanting 1 of my fave characts actually have his poor health.self-destructive coping mechanism/trauma acknowledged #can't believe i was actually afraid i wouldn't be able to write because too much might happen in DTAMHD...! 🤣#it should've all happened. but instead ended w/him getting charges pressed when he tried to break into ceo's home #ngl. this one hurt. I'm ready for Mac to give up on Dennis. i just wish this fucking show would let him.#excuse me while i go bawl like a baby watching MFHP. because I'm heartbroken that Dennis' BPD makes him push Mac away.#let's just say that realization has been bogging me down in my personal life the last couple of days. & this bummed me out.#Robert McElhenney. I'm outside the studio screaming at you to just let Mac move on & actually meet someone!#I'm not saying he deserves a relationship. but fuck... after 40 yrs of repression can he at least have a fling & fall out of love w/Den?#Dennis won't ever let him meet someone. & he'll never treat Mac like he actually cares about him.bc his own vulnerability terrifies him.😭

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ucetheones · 9 months

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all i know is pain <3

i was never gonna post this drawing cos i hate it strongly and it's kinda incomplete, but i feel like we could all use a jey cleanser cos im feeling broken tonight!!!!

#jey uso #jey uso fanart #wwe #jimmy uso WHO???#im ngl i cried a few times #im hurting bad #the jey fic im writing is gonna be so angsty #my other fics are gonna take a TURN #my latest one finna go crazy watch #jey uso deserves better!!!!!#my boy fr has nobody :(#they've done it now tho #he's the ultimate babygirl #all jey knows are The Horrors #jey uso is MY Tribal Chief

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levi-my-beloved · 1 year

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just finished up a draft of Ackerbond's ending.

i am so sorry.

i am so, so sorry...

#the ackerbond #ngl if i'm crying writing it...#i can only imagine how this will be when y'all read it #christ's church this one hurt quite a bit #anD THE MUSIC ISN'T HELPING #i wish i could like #insert soundtracks like #where and when they would play when reading this #because for this specific scene #oof....

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bellafragolina · 2 years

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Babes, babes, babes hear me out, Emmet’s s/o who’s back from Hisui, and of course he hears the stories on how dangerous it was, but then he accidentally walks in on his s/o changing and losing it at the sight of just how many scars they were given from the terrain and violent Pokémon

- Jes 🤠

Howdy, partner! Welcome back! Also, *bawls* Poor Emmet! This hurts so good, Jes, how are you so good at this??

🍓🍓🍓

Emmet hates letting you out of his sight sometimes. He gets twitchy, being away from you for so long. You've only been back for a week, and you've only been out of the hospital for a day. Your malnutrition and slow introduction back into the foods and sounds of the present was slow going, but you were home. And now Emmet can hardly stand to let you go to the bathroom by yourself.

Going to work is even harder.

The second he's back, he makes tracks towards the bedroom, where he hears you humming to yourself. Not wanting to scare you, he slows his roll, easing open the cracked bedroom door to see you taking off your shirt, pjs laid out on your shared bed.

Emmet freezes.

Your back is covered in scars. There are burns covering your arms, claw marks that disappear beneath your waist bad, and various thick scars along your spine. He stares at you, at your healed injuries that had to have been painful in the moment.

He doesn't realize he's crying until a sob crawls its way out of his lungs.

You whip around, clutching your shirt to your chest, only to drop it when you see Emmet. Your Emmet, who just cries harder when he sees the three, large claw marks that drag down your sternum, towards your tummy. He crumbles to the floor, heaving on his grief, his devastation that you were alone and injured so often while he was here, wallowing in self-pity.

"Emmet!" You cry, dropping down with him. You're confused, frightened, but Emmet can't make the words between his wails and gasps for air. You pull him to you, shove your legs beneath him, and position him in your lap for a hug. "Shh, shh, it's alright."

That just makes Emmet cry hard, clutching your bare back as he blubbers into your shoulder. None of this is alright, he wants to scream. You nearly died so many times, and he couldn't- didn't help you. He didn't try hard enough, didn't find you in time, didn't save you from what tore you away to a hostile land full of hostile creatures wanting to kill you day and night.

He hates it, almost as much as he hates himself.

"Emmet," you coo, rocking slowly, "oh, my sweet Emmet. I've got you, I've got you." Emmet hiccups, sniffling as he drags his fingers up the bumpy, healed flesh of a burn. You notice, and get an idea of what this is about. "I'm okay, Emmet. I'm right here."

"I failed you." He whispers.

"You saved me." You reply, running a hand through his hair. He shivers into you, cheek squished against your warm skin. "Every night, I couldn't sleep unless I was thinking of you. I got knocked down, bruised and torn up, but what kept me going was you. Knowing you were here, no doubt worried to death over me, suffering because of me, it made me determined to get to you."

"You-" Emmet gasps, but you cut him off.

"I love you." You press the words into the side of his, begging for his brain to take and hold them how you were holding him, tight and never letting go. "You were- you are the reason I'm still living. I would've given up, if it weren't for you. So thank you, for giving me a reason to want to see tomorrow."

Emmet cries himself to sleep in your arms, only to wake up in bed, tucked into you. You're asleep, curled around him, still without a shirt. He traces the scars on your chest, then kisses your heart, pressing his head to it to feel its beat against him.

"You were my reason for living too." He whispers into the night, soothed by the evidence of you, alive, next to him. "You're my reason."

He falls asleep again, and dreams pleasant dreams of you and him at the beach, your scars sparkling in the sun, exposed by your bathing suit. But your smile shines the brightest, and Emmet knows he would live through anything just to see your smile.

🍓🍓🍓

Emmet is such an interesting character when you wonder how a Hisui incident would affect him. God, I love him <3

Have a great night, Jes!

~Renee

#ngl this one hurt me to write #poor emmet #emmet x reader #submas x reader #pokemon imagines #pokemon x reader

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mamamittens · 2 months

Text

Since I'll probably never get to it, I figure I'd share this snippet I wrote for a fic I really wanted to do well over a year ago. Technically, I've wanted to write a The Gamer inspired fic for YEARS but math is hard and it's a lot of technical world building I could never commit to (⁠｡⁠ŏ⁠﹏⁠ŏ⁠)

Uhhh, context, it's about an OC named Mina (nickname, her full name is pretentious). She ate (? Was still deciding if I wanted it to be like The Gamer manga and it's just a random skill or a devil fruit) what's essentially a gamer fruit and periodically does dungeon runs. She's Thatch's niece, I wanted her to travel for a bit with the Straw Hats until they meet Ace and she explains she's looking for her uncle (with a horrific name, Thatch being short for like, Thatcher or smt, it's written down somewhere???) And Ace realizes who she's looking for. Not sure if he thought Thatch was dead or nah but takes her along cause he feels responsible in at least taking her to Whitebeard as his technical grandkid.

She went looking for Thatch cause she's still a minor but owns all her parents assets and her paternal uncle has gambling debts... And may have been about to sell her out to Crocodile, didn't decide honestly. But basically she REALLY couldn't stay home any longer.

Anyway! Until an incident where she nearly dies and discovers she can actually call for help, she... Doesn't quite blend well with the crew. Mostly cause Thatch has BEEF with his family and doesn't quite know how to handle this.

This snippet is after her DF is discovered and she's saved from a boss battle, essentially.

The rest is explained well enough in this fic.

(snippet under the cut)

The kitchens were mostly vacated at the moment. Thatch’s division busy elsewhere until it was time to get to the meat of meal prepping for dinner. Tonight required a lot of potatoes, so Thatch decided it was as good a time as any to have some quality time with Mina. His niece… fuck it was so weird to consider everything he’d learned so far.

Before, he was too blinded by the strong resemblance to his sister—and to be fair he knew it and tried to keep his distance while sorting through his feelings. He knew better by now than to blame her for who she was related to. It was hard though. Hell, even her cocky laugh reminded him of his sister. The mental image of his niece standing strong with bandages wrapped around her stomach, eyes blazing as she challenged the hell spawn in that dungeon haunted him.

It was just… so different from the amicable, eager young girl he had seen up until that point. He thought that Mina was kind of weak, maybe with a secret bitchy side like his sister. But it was clear now that Mina and himself were cut from a very familiar cloth. Something stronger than steel ran in their spine that made a cornered fight turn into unique opportunity to overtake their enemy. Anything can be an advantage with a little creativity. And it was clear that Mina had been very creative her whole life with the ease that she handled a rapidly spiraling situation beyond her control.

Not quite comfortable leading people, clearly, but eager to share knowledge to gain an upper hand.

And now he was here. Sitting on a barrel opposite to his niece, both of them huddled over a growing pile of peeled potatoes. The sound of knives swiftly cutting apart the skin the only sound for a very long moment. Thatch just… wasn’t sure where to start.

What could he say?

“…So. Dungeons, huh?” Thatch grimaced at the piss poor start but kept going, “How long has that been going on? I know you said earlier they weren’t optional but when did they start?” Mina glanced up at him.

“I was ten, actually. Not sure if it was because of my birthday or because I reached a high enough level. It was a pretty tame dungeon though. Slime monsters, but they were just little goopy puddles. Cute but they tended to get bigger fast if I didn’t take them out quick enough. Almost drowned because I didn’t realize I could physically rip them apart and I didn’t have a weapon at the time.” Mina explained, smoothly running the potato in her hand in circles to form a seamless peel.

“Wow. That must have been pretty scary. How did… how did Victoria take it?” Thatch couldn’t help but ask. It sounded messy. And if nothing else, he just knew his sister would have loathed the mess.

“Victoria?” Mina paused, looking up at him for a moment until she realized who he was talking about. “Oh! Her. Uhm, she wasn’t there. I had been playing in my room at the time. No one saw me disappear and I cleaned up afterwards.”

Thatch frowned, hands still making the practiced motions to efficiently peel yet another damn potato.

“Kind of lucky then, I guess. Someone probably noticed when things got more serious though, right? I mean… back there… you were impaled Mina. Most people can’t just walk that off.” Mina snorted.

“Nope. No one noticed. I was pretty good at covering up for any… mistakes I made. And the worst anyone saw was bruises, but that could come from anything. Usually I just said I tripped over a rug. Gramps saw through it a little, I think. But he didn’t call me out on it.” Mina elaborated with a smile.

Thatch’s heart stuttered and he stopped. Knife poised over a potato.

“You could have died.” Thatch said, looking up at Mina as she stopped as well. She looked confused. “You were ten. You didn’t leave the island until you were fifteen. Five years you were dropped in random dungeons. And no one noticed?! Victoria never happened to see anything? Or her husband?! Were they all blind?!” Thatch knew he was growing a little hysterical, but it wouldn’t leave his mind.

A little ten-year-old girl, his fucking niece, having to plan around death matches in a house crawling with servants. And his sister was always a nosy bitch. There was no way in hell she missed even a misplaced hair on her only child!

“Well, the staff were a bit busy running the estate. I liked doing chores and helping, but if I disappeared for a few hours no one minded.” Mina looked confused as to why Thatch was growing more and more upset. Finally, something clicked. “Oh! Right. I’m really used to it by now, but that’s probably upsetting to hear. A little kid killing monsters in her free time without a choice. I’m… sorry?” Mina grimaced herself at the awkward trailing apology.

An apology. She was apologizing to Thatch.

Somehow, Thatch knew this was not going to be the most upsetting part.

“Did my sister really never notice you fighting for your life?! You were ten!” Thatch tossed the potato into the peeled pile, ignoring how little was left after he got a bit too hasty with his knife. Mina frowned, tilting her head in confusion. It was cute, but Thatch could already feel the horror dawning on him.

What the fuck did his sister do all those years?

“I don’t know how she could have noticed, Thatch. They weren’t even there?” Mina looked so earnest as she said that. Like there wasn’t something really fucked up with that sentence. Sure, plenty of kids grew up without parents. Technically, so did Thatch, but his parents were too invested in their business and politics to be emotionally present. They were at least mostly there as his sister and himself grew up.

“What?”

Mina looked down, selecting another potato with a shrug of her shoulders.

“Well, yeah. I don’t know when they left. I don’t actually remember them, so it must have been when I was really young.” Mina laughed, the sound a little too forced, “You know… I actually thought I was just like… an illegitimate child. Thought that the portrait of my parents was my grandparents because the painting was so old. It made sense at the time. Oh! Or that I was adopted. Possibly just a really lucky kid of the staff that… never wanted to acknowledge me. They were on trips all over ever since I could remember. I never talked to them. Not even once.”

Thatch put down the knife, afraid he would do something terrible if he held onto it.

“Mina…” Her shoulders were trembling despite how steady her hands were as they meticulously separated the potato skin with delicate curves of her knife.

“They showed up again for a week, isolating because they were sick and didn’t want it to spread to the staff I guess. My parents were home for a whole week and I didn’t even know they were my parents until the reading of the will. I stood there dressed in funeral clothes and so very confused. Gramps realized after the will reading that no one had actually told me who my parents were. I was just educated ‘as a young lady should be’ and that was that.” Thatch gently reached out and pulled away the knife. Tears dropping onto the blade and sinking onto the exposed potato, “T-They left when I was just a baby. I… I never got to know them. Never got a chance to. D-Did I… did I do something wrong? Is that why they left and never came back? Was it that obvious I wasn’t worth the trouble?”

Thatch crumbled as Mina finally looked up at him.

Her face was red, eyes bright with tears. She looked hopeful and resigned, like she thought she knew exactly what he’d say. Like she was afraid of what he might say. A weak sniffle jostled her whole body as she pressed her lips in a thin line. Mina was almost grown, but Thatch had no trouble lifting her into his lap and tucking her head under his chin.

“Oh Mina.” She sobbed, hands fisting the back of his shirt desperately as she clung to him. Thatch pressed a kiss to her temple and whispered into her hair, “I am so sorry, sweetie. I don’t know why my sister left, but you’ve always been worth it. You will always be worth it.” Thatch tucked his niece in closer to his chest and stroked her hair.

He had thought, having grown up in such a lonely household, that his sister would never repeat what their parents had done. It seems that she decided to top their neglect instead. It was harsh, but as his poor niece cried harder in his arms, he solemnly decided that the only good thing his sister did outside of giving birth was die and leave Thatch with custody.

Sure, he didn’t really know how to parent anyone, but fuck. There was no damn way he could fuck up harder than his sister did. And he had plenty of family here with him to help. Hell, Oyaji would know exactly what to do if nothing else! Thatch sighed and resigned himself to the strong possibility that they would be behind on the potatoes.

He sure as hell wasn’t going to tell his niece to suck it up just so his division wouldn’t have to peel any vegetables. They’d understand anyway. Despite wanting to follow his example in case things went south, Mina had clearly grown on them. Her eager (attention starved), willing to learn (desperate to please), and charming (a miracle in the midst of shitty parenting) personality winning them over. It was a wonder she wasn’t more fucked up—though a strong argument could be made for her reckless behavior. That did explain why she got along so well with Ace though... Actually, that was probably also a severe warning sign in it’s own right given Ace’s horrendous self-worth issues. But ‘gramps’, which was probably old Barty if he remembered the head butler well enough, could hardly be expected to pull a miracle out of his ass to make up for every deficit.

#one piece #one piece thatch #one piece oc #i designed several powered outfits for her and everything #it was a pretty fun project honestly #i really hyperficated on Mina for a while #sad boi hours tho #this is what i meant when I said i keep adding sad stuff to the backgrounds of my fics #like ow this genuinely hurt to come up with and write ngl

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