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[yuitos-blog]

Basic Angst Starters

because sometimes what’s left to the imagination is much more terrifying.

“Are you feeling alright? You don’t look it.” “I just heard something… Something bad…” “Why didn’t you tell me about this?!” “What’s all this blood?!” “Will you tell me what the fuck is going on?” “Don’t give me that look! It wasn’t my fault!” “You should probably sit down for this.” “Please tell me you forgive me!” “I can’t live without you!” “Oh god, It was a mistake coming here… I’m sure of it.” “What the hell happened to you?!” “Where have you been?! I’ve been waiting for hours!” “You promised you wouldn’t do this anymore!” “I knew not to trust you!” “What’s that in your bag…? Is that–? Tell me it’s not!” “Is this what a dislocated shoulder feels like?!” “How could you do this to me?!” “Wake up! Wake up!!! You’re having a nightmare!” “I feel weird… what was in that drink…?” “I don’t want to leave you, but you’re not really giving me another option.” “Please… you’re scaring me…” “Ssh, I heard something again. How aren’t you hearing it? It was loud… and getting closer.” “Are you okay in there? You’ve been so quiet.” “I came as soon as I could! Did he/she get to you already?” “I don’t know whether I want to do this. I don’t know whether I CAN do this.” “Do you remember anything?” “You have to tell me who did this to you!” “No, no, I’m not alright. I’m definitely not alright.” “What’s your fucking problem?!” “Are you crying?” “You’re freaking me out! Please calm down!” “I’m leaving. And I’m not intending to come back.” “You… are dying?” “Did you drink the whole bottle while tripping? Seriously?” “Do you have a deathwish or something? Jesus!” “Ever been held at gunpoint? Want to know what it feels like?” “Stop screaming! Shh, calm down! You have to keep quiet!” “When’s the last time you slept?”.

[yuitos-blog]

@yiraen:

THE SURPRISE OF THE sudden turn of events brought that fathomless expression along her features. It is always a challenge for her to look at other people’s whereabouts, get to know about them from the skills and training that was given to her from the family that adopted her, as soon as she was found loitering around a temporary premise. She proclaimed herself as a renewed person, the sense of atonement growing along her veins with those particular moments of her life, giving her the reason to succumb once more in reiteration, this mission for her to befriend the man who seem to have something of importance is one of the few steps that she needs to take in order to gain herself some comprehensive exercise in achieving her particular goal.

She does not know anything about him, Nakamoto Yuta, his name is, and that’s all the information that she took from the base. Bruce told her to be careful, to watch out, but none of those managed to give her the reason not to look at him and examine what she’s doing. Body movements became her own literature, and as to see that he’s contemplating whether he’s doing something bad, as to the reason why he was being followed, well, he’s not wrong about it. But then again, Ahyoung’s task is compelled with the idea of giving him a chance to live on his own, yet with a certain precaution, with her as an undercover to gain his trust and be his friend, as to the reason why, she hasn’t entirely asked anyone yet, but she will surely find out in the future.

Words were no longer available to be spoken yet something tells her that it is necessary to tell him her name. This is their first meeting anyway, and she needed to make an impression that wouldn’t push him away in contemplating whether to be a person that he could trust, that isn’t a part of the plan. Ahyoung takes a step forward, a careful press of the sole of her foot along the pavement below as if one counter mistake would gradually let him loose and run, she doesn’t want to take her chances.

Chances are either a way to fail, and failure has never been her choice to make.

“Ahyoung. Kim Ahyoung.” It is as simple as that, her name, the new identity that Bruce gave her was nothing but a name that she would use only for moments as such. She has to remember that she’s a new person now, not Cassandra Cain, and her hands have to be soft, in order for him to appeal and solely recognize it as a pair of hands that a woman in her age has, instead of that life taking pair that she was molded into.

She lifts a hand between them, completely letting her guard down for a moment or two as she asks. “And you are?” 

NOT A WORD IS TO be said, and not a sound is to be made. He remained completely silent whilst listening to the female speak, trying to comprehend a possible reason behind why she had chosen to tail him into such a secluded part of town, but the answer is no where to be seen or found. He does, however, have one or two inklings as to why, though chooses not to jump to any conclusion just yet. Hearing their name had not rung a bell in his mind, not even in the very least. Yuta has never seen, nor heard of before, so that made him all the more wary of presence. What could she possibly want with him? And why — out of all people — him? It’s a thought that's been on his mind since the very beginning, a thought that he had not yet disposed of. He wants to learn more than just her name, and by all means necessary, he will.  

But for now, he does not move from his spot. Instead, he simply stares at her, visage impassive as he observes even the slightest of shifts in her expression. For a wise man once said ‘your eyes are the windows to your soul,’ and he hopes to use this theory to grasp an understanding of her hidden motives. Yet, there is something about her eyes that just seems so unclear; so opaque. Frustrated beyond belief, he does not allow the emotion to be displayed across his neutral placid countenance. 

It’s the undying determination to learn more about Ahyoung that draws him closer to her, slow steps taken along the cobblestone pathway until the distance that separates them becomes little to nothing. Was this an invasion of personal space? Definitely. Did he care? Not at all. She has already stuck her nose into his personal life, so he has every right to do the exact same. He disregards her prosy greeting completely, does not accept the offered hand as most would have. “Does that even matter?” 

One daunting step, followed by another. Yuta has already begun to corner the female against the wall, trapping her between both him and the brick surface. Escape is not guaranteed, not until he receives the answers that he's been searching for. He presses his forearm to the flat of the wall, leaning onto it as his gaze rests over hers. “You’ve been behind me for awhile now,” he begins, his voice trailing off into a whisper toward the end of the sentence. He’d known all along that she’s been stalking him, but waited for the perfect opportunity to strike, so he could openly approach this matter. Now that he has her right where Ahyoung wants her, he refuses to let her out of his sight. "And I don’t necessarily think it’s a coincidence, especially since you’ve followed me all the way into this alley. Who are you,  really, and what the hell do you want?”

[yuitos-blog]

@taemiisms:

Taemin jolted upright, eyes wide as he looked around the room. It had to have been a dream, merely a nightmare for he never would have invited a stranger back into his dorm. Even if that stranger was someone he’d met at his friend’s party, where he’d had a little too much to drink. No surely, surely he’d come home by himself.

He settled back against the cushions, lids fluttering softly as he began to nod off only to hear a sound beside him. Once more his eyes widened, heart lurching into his throat as he saw the man laying beside him. The way their head was leaning over the couch, hair obscuring their features and Taemin jumped up.

＂ Hey ! Hey you, ＂ he shouted, the sound of his own voice making his head ache as he gingerly nudged their leg with his fingers. ＂ Come on get up, you need to tell me exactly what happened last night. ＂ Though he wasn’t sure how much good this was doing, not with the way they were still passed out on his couch. 

MEMORIES FROM OF THE NIGHT BEFORE failed to reach his mind once he’d awoken from his slumber, head teetering off the edge of the couch whilst his body remained perfectly aligned across the cushions. His position was uncomfortable, there was a strain in his neck when he lifted his head and rested it atop the arm now beneath his neck. Yuta wonders how the hell he’d even managed to fall, though supposes anything is possible when once’s mind is trapped in a haze. Chocolate hued irises slowly flutter open, blurred gaze momentarily trained over the ceiling above, but later diverts elsewhere once it had refocuses. He glances around his surroundings, and it does not take long for the demon to realize that he was not in his own home. 

What could’ve happened last night? 

Upon hearing the sound of another’s voice, his head turns towards the side and his eyes fall upon a man not too far from him. Yuta is silent, thin lips lightly rested atop one another as he tries hard to recall what exactly happened last night. He remembered accompanying an acquaintance to a party ( one he did not want to go to ), but to have woken up in a stranger’s home leaves him completely and utterly speechless. Had he consumed too much alcohol? Had someone drugged him? Or had he simply lost consciousness whilst at the event? He hasn’t been feeling well these past few days; the third possibility seems probable. His head falls back against the cushioned surface beneath him and his hand covers his eyes, pads of his fingers massaging his temples to ease his mind of its restless thoughts. Perhaps this was all just one big dream, perhaps he’d find himself at home once he wakes up.

He waited, but it never came.

“I’d hate to break it to you, but I’m not exactly sure what happened myself.” He continues watching them, earnestly revealing his thoughts despite them having been revealed so wantonly. His arm drops down, palm flattened against the cushion beneath him as he proceeds to push himself into a seated position; to make himself more presentable amidst this crazed situation. Still, he does not wish to appear as an unmannered, disheveled fool. Especially since he miraculously ended up in the other’s home due to an uncertain turn of events. "How did I end up here?”

[yuitos-blog]

IN A NEVER ENDING QUEST for peace and quiet, the foreigner chose to spend his spare time at the local library. He could be found on the second level towards the back of the room, seated atop a window sill, spine pressed to the flat of the wall as his eyes trace over the sentences spread across the page. Yuta often immersed himself in literature, reading books of of different types and genres. Not only did it free him of his boredom, but it also lifted his thoughts and concerns off his shoulders. Burdens were relieved, and he also strengthened his Korean vocabulary. The pad of his index finger traces down the page to its corner, preparing to turn it once he reads through each word, but stopped only when a female’s voice threaded through his conscience. He lifts his head and glances around the room, chocolate hues eventually fall upon the culprit he sees in the short distance across from him. Korean, female, and perhaps somewhere around his age. His lips are sealed, blatant apathy served as a substitution for what he would’ve been said if he bothered to speak, but for now, nothing is to be said. 

Nonsense. 

That was the first thought ( of many ) to enter his mind upon listening to the female blabber on about possible inventions for the future. Body modifications? Wings? Nowadays, anything seems feasible. But even so, it was not something he’d get for himself if there were available on the market. Humans flying? Absurd. “I’m not sure, though it’s possible,” was all he had given in response to her little spiel, shoulders shrugged before his attention returns to the novel in his hand. At times like these, he often wonders why he bothers to get himself mixed up with strangers, for a high percentage of the time, he cared little for his interactions with them; had no interest whatsoever. Yuta moves an arm beneath his head, using it as a makeshift pillow whist he side leans ever-so-lightly against the window located right beside him. Hopefully now, the number of distractions will return to zero, and he can pick up where he had left off.

@yuitos

“I suspect -”

Uh, oh. Hally’s been daydreaming again. Some would take a look at that unexpressive face and assume she is a hardened girl with only hardened thoughts, but surprisingly often, she manages to come up with things like this.

“- that body mods, in the future, will only get more and more intense. It’s inevitable. I was thinking - is it possible that one day people will be able to get wings attached to themselves? Not working ones, but decorative ones. I’d look prettier with wings.”

[yuitos-blog]

@yiraen​:

THAT SHOULDN’T HAVE HAPPENED. Robin gave her a call as soon as she sent the message and he scolded her for not thinking twice about it. Sure, she’s intelligent, but having to be bothered along the lines of actually getting someone to trust her in a way, doesn’t seem to fit all the characteristics that Ahyoung has and she can’t help it, she was deprived of having to touch another human other than those instances that she needed to kill them, which is actually uncalled for. She hisses at the sound of the man’s voice by her ear, it feels itchy now that all she heard was nothing but the sound of his voice telling her not to act impulsively because she may have Yuta’s records but he doesn’t know that, and she might blow her cover with this irrevocable mistake.

Blocked. The letters are flashed on her phone screen, and it is quite disturbing to see. The rejection does not bother him, but the fact that she was the one who committed the mistake is somewhat puzzling inside her head, and she shouldn’t have done that. Ahyoung thinks for a second, her head placed on the wall by her side, she really is by the man’s door and she’s compelled upon what to do. Think, come on, think.

You’re a killing machine, and you’re scared of that man? No. No, she is not scared, she’s more perplexed on what might happen because it puts her current situation in jeopardy and she cannot handle defeat nor failure. All task that are placed over her hands are supposed to be done without any causality, and she always put her words into actions. Instead of contemplating further, she lets her hand reach by the door to knock, once, twice—three continues pounding of her knuckle along the wooden door.

“Yuta. It’s me, Ahyoung.” 

WHAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE a peaceful night was disrupted by an obtrusive knock at the front door. Yuta’s expression immediately turns sour, eyes shoot open as his gaze falls upon the ceiling above his head. “For fucks sake,” he bitterly mutters underneath his breath, pads of his fingers slowly trace the expanse of his forehead in an attempt to ease himself of the headache he feels surfacing near his temples. It has been little over three minutes since he had sent the stranger a message in response to their own, and now there was someone knocking at his door. He assumes that it’s them, that they will not leave until they have either seen or heard from him, and not just through some meaningless text. 

He takes his time towards the main room, his hand automatically reaching for the doorknob in front of him, but he chooses not to open the door just yet, for there were hundreds are reasons not to. What if either assassins or hunters were waiting out there for him? It’s probable, the chance being fifty-fifty. Yuta has been on the run for years now, hence why he had chosen to take refuge in South Korea. He needed someplace to stay for the meantime, someplace that others would least expect. He takes a step toward the door, looking through the peephole to catch a glimpse of the unwelcomed-guest who stands on the other side. Kim Ahyoung, his stalker, standing right there in the flesh. But as to why, though, he does not know, nor does he understand. He doesn’t recall having any real connection with her, and yet she’s somehow become a constant in his life; the duo occasionally running into each other on the streets. 

Was it fate? Probably not. 

In a matter of seconds, the door is unlocked and opened, and he finds himself standing face-to-face with her once again. Yuta does nothing, says nothing, but simply stares at her with narrowed brows, almost as though he were trying to read her mind. This, however, was not the first time he had found her actions and antics to be strange, for their first meeting was strange itself. She had followed him, and now, she had somehow gotten her hands on both his number and address. Undeterred by the thought, his attention remains ensnared over the woman as he leans against the door frame and crosses his arms over his chest. If there’s one thing he now knows for sure, it’s that their meetings were no longer coincidental. 

“What are you doing here?”

[yuitos-blog]

[text]: I'm at your door.

 — A Masterlist of Prompts and Starters. ( via; accepting !! )

HAVING RECEIVED A MESSAGE from an unknown number, it was all the more strange knowing that there may or may not be a stranger looming outside his front door. But he was curious as to who this person is, how they had managed to get a hold of his phone number, and what business they have with him at such an ungodly hour. His gaze is kept over the message splayed across the screen; while he can’t seem to wrap his mind around the anonymous sender’s true intentions, part of him assumed that those pesky hunters were at it again; that they hoped to strike fear into the poor demon’s heart and lure him out of his hideout. It’s happened in the past. He remembered spending hours running away from them, hoping to shake them off his trail, and free himself from whatever they had in store for him. 

Yuta shuts his eyes and drapes an arm over them, his vision completely was overthrown by a veil of darkness. It is the only thing that comforts him during times like this; during these times of distress. It almost makes him forget of each trouble plaguing his life. When he opens his eyes, however. his attention returns to the message and there, he chooses to respond - arm tucked beneath his head, used as a makeshift pillow whilst his thumb punches in the desired characters, it then hovers over the ‘SEND’ option, before the actual message is sent. 

[ TEXT TO: Unknown Number ] Blocked.

[yuitos-blog]

the world’s been trying to turn me into a MONSTER                                                       for as long as i can remember

[yuitos-blog]

☤

 — A Masterlist of Prompts and Starters. ( via; accepting !! )

☤: My muse visits your muse at the hospital.  

LOW GROANS OF PURE DISCOMFORT and pain rumbled against the back of his throat with each failed attempt he had made to move from his spot and free himself from this damned hospital. Yuta knows and understands the concept behind these facilities; they’re to provide medical attention to those who are in need, but even so, his distaste toward places as such failed to efface. It filled him with unease, and yet, here he was once again, strapped down to the mattress with several wires attached to him. He was brought to the hospital after an unfaithful encounter with a small group of muggers whom had cornered an acquaintance of his and took her wallet. If it weren’t for the knives they carried back then, then perhaps he would have been victorious. But unfortunately, fate was not on his side that evening. 

Annoyance is guaranteed when admitted into a hospital, for once one has been placed under the care of a team of nurses and doctors, they will be bothered until the end of their stay. Yuta hated this. He hated this because there was a lack of privacy. He could not have twenty minutes to himself without being bothered; each visit upset him, but his frustrations were carefully hidden behind an indefinite mask of indifference. He showed little to no emotion, barely had reactions when spoken to or given medication or a vaccination, though remained well-mannered and patient throughout the entire time. 

But the distant reverberation of a set of steps lures his attention away from the intravenous drip and he turns his head to the side and stares at the petite form he sees standing near the entrance to his room. Kim Ahyoung, the woman was with him during the stabbing. He had not expected to see her tonight, or rather, not this soon, for he assumed that things needed to be taken cared of down at the police station before her arrival. Generally, cases like these would generally run for an hour or two, depending on time and efficiency.  

Yuta closes his eyes, long lashes fluttered shut as a short sigh spills past his lips. He had been in a similar situation like this before, the only difference being his age. It dates back to a time where his father was supposedly out of the country, and Yuta was left behind in the care of his maternal uncle, Yashamaru. He was later attacked, wounded and taken to the hospital but even at a young age, he had not gone down without a fight. His animalistic instincts kicked in; the wolf inside of him was released from its caged and he tore the masked man into shreds. Yuta, however, later discovered that the perpetrator was none other than his precious uncle, whom had been hired by his father to assassinate him. His breathing becomes labored for a good moment, but all is well when he takes a deep breath. He just needed a minute, nothing more, nothing less. 

He simply remains where he is, fingers curling and unfurling as his gaze rest over her visage. “What are you doing here? You should’ve went home.” 

[yuitos-blog]

a masterlist of prompts and sentence starters

[ SEND A SYMBOL FOR A DRABBLE ABOUT OUR MUSES ]

☂: our muses get caught in the rain outside without an umbrella

★: our muses stargaze together

✈: your muse is going away for a time and says goodbye to my muse or vice versa

❤: one of our muses says the first "i love you" to the other

✿: your muse asks my muse to dance with them or vice versa

☤: my muse visits your muse at the hospital

☢: your muse tells my muse that they need to break up

☯: our muses have their first kiss

❅: our muses have a snowball fight

☠: my muse visits your muse's grave

▲: how our muses first met

➳: how one of our muses asked the other on a first date

✌: our muses' wedding

⌚: my muse proposes to your muse or vice versa

[ SEND ONE OF THE FOLLOWING SENTENCES FOR MY MUSE'S RESPONSE ]

"Please don't leave me."

"I don't want to lose you, okay?"

"Because I love you!"

"And I thought I could trust you."

"I can't believe you forgot."

"What did you do this time?"

"We're going to get caught!"

"Kiss me."

"I'm sorry, I screwed up."

"I might be drunk."

"You look beautiful."

"That smirk is annoyingly hard to ignore."

"Stop staring at me!"

"Please go away, you can't see me like this."

"Come on, dance with me."

"I need you. I need us."

"You can't just lead me on like that!"

"I can't do this anymore."

"Oh, I'm nothing special."

"Just don't forget me, okay?"

"You have to let me go."

"We'll get through this together."

"You're not alone, you know."

"Shut up! I hate you!"

"I wish this could last forever."

"Maybe I was right in thinking that I should never have even fallen in love with you."

"What would the world be like without you?"

"Why do you like me so much?"

"Are you okay?"

"Shit, what did I do?"

[ SEND A TEXT FOR MY MUSE'S RESPONSE ]

[text]: Fuck you.

[text]: Where are you?

[text]: I'm sick.

[text]: I love you.

[text]: I wish I could be with you right now.

[text]: I'm at your door.

[text]: Is that all you care about?

[text]: Please stop talking about her/him.

[text]: Just come over, watch a movie, and cuddle with me.

[text]: Don't even start.

[text]: Is that all I am to you?

[text]: Help me.

[text]: Wait, what happened?

[text]: I can't go to sleep because you're on my mind.

[text]: I miss you.

[text]: Good night.

[text]: Stop leaving me voicemails, I'm not going to forgive you.

[text]: Tell me you didn't forget.

[text]: I've had such a bad day.

[text]: Don't talk to me ever again.

[text]: I have nothing if I don't have you.

[text]: After all we've been through, you can't leave me... please.

[text]: Breaking up over a text? You've stooped that low?

[text]: Can you stop ignoring me for a second?

[text]: Sometimes I worry that you won't know how much I love you.

[yuitos-blog]

@yiraen​

STEALTH is her friend, as a woman who was trained to her highest abilities, she shouldn’t have been seen as such but it was what they wanted her to do all along. To be an alliance of the man who presumed to have something necessary for them to have. She did not quite understand at first, all she knew was that he’s a human who was placed under her care, nothing seemed to be out of the line but as she saw him, the aura that she releases, she knew that he’s more than just that.

Ahyoung took a careful step forward. The pitter patter of people around her lets her move at ease, she swerves along with them, her eyes never leaving the man that she was bound to look after. Spotted, she clicks her tongue at the sight of the man narrowing along the path to the shadowed area where she can’t see the form of his face nor the riling of his own nerve centers to control him to her own dismay. He’s smarter than he looks, she thinks, while carefully pulling herself by her feet, standing on his line of vision, eyes trailed along his countenance, silence following the breeze of the wind as she lets her gaze fall along his own.

STEALTH became her identity, it’s like greeting an old friend, the one that she supposedly lost. The coast is clear, her mind prevails, her eyes darkened at the loss of the light behind her, succumbing into the darkness after following him.

As their gazes lock along each other’s, Ahyoung slips her conscious behind her head, waiting for him to speak his mind. 

DESPITE HAVING TAKEN a detour through an abandoned alleyway, earlier’s suspicions failed to fade. He is still under the impression that something, or someone is following him, sticking closely to his side and monitoring his every move. It was like a ravenous predator watching its prey, waiting for the perfect moment to strike — to make him theirs, to tear him to shreds, and to leave his remains behind once satisfaction has been dished out and served. It was not an ending the male was relatively fond of, though it is an ending that could be altered and changed. He just needs to stand up and fight; fight to make a difference. 

Yuta stopped dead in his trek when the disturbance neared, but he did not bother to spare a glance toward the one of audacity. What reason would there be for someone to follow him, one may ask? Well, the answer itself is clear as clear as day. If one were to get their hands on him, power would literally be at the tips of their fingers. Even though he was not looking at them, at the perpetrator, he knew all too well that they were right behind him. It makes him feel uncomfortable, and yet, beneath all that weight happens to be annoyance, frustration, and any other emotion along those lines. 

He may have a beast sealed inside of him, but he is not a monster. 

Their gazes, however, meet when he turns toward the side and faces her, monochrome hues wordlessly tracing down her beautiful features. It was not difficult to see through her mask of blatant indifference, but it was difficult to assimilate the thoughts floating amidst her consciousness. Who is she? What business does she have with him? An what are her intentions? Questions, one after another, continue to flow through his mind, though he does not have a rational reasoning for any. Assumptions could be made, but he’d rather know and know than mindlessly throw them out into the blue. That’d be impulsive, and Yuta is anything but. 

Yet, there is but one question that seems appropriate for a meeting between strangers. He narrows his brows, head inclined toward the right, quizzical disparage etched with each word that falls from his lips. “Who are you?”