#stings til it numbs

[kindacreepy-kindaugly]

why am I so fucking easy though he barely even manipulated me

[justwinginglife]

'Til Death Do Us Part

Okay I never trigger warning cuz I don't like spoiling plot, but this one is about abusive relationships, this one is depressing, and this one does not end well. I wanted to write a fic based off of the song "Lie to Girls" in honor of Sabrina Carpenter's new album, but the song hit too hard, and the depression kicked in too hard hence depressing fic. And of course, I did not think anyone in Kaiju would be destructive and unhealthy enough for this fic so I'm writing about Manjiro Sano from Tokyo Revengers when he's older (in the future). That's all, proceed with caution.

You knew Mikey was a mess. 

If anyone asked, you’d deny it over and over. You’d keep denying it until your throat bled, the sting of those same, acidic words clawing their way back up like they’d triggered your gag reflex. You denied it so much, like you hoped it would become the truth, hoped your reality would morph into the falsities that you spewed.

You also knew that loving him was a decision, a conscious choice, an ongoing commitment you’d devoted yourself to time and time again. Yet, when pressed, you still claimed that loving him was unavoidable, that you were simply unable to unlove him, unable to resist. 

So, when he’d come home fucked up from his latest fight, blood smeared on his hands, the devil lurking in his eyes, you’d simply welcome him inside, arms spread wide, a warm smile at the ready. You didn’t know whose blood you were cleaning off his knuckles, or if that person was lying dead in some back alley somewhere, but you hummed to yourself and tended to him anyway, swallowing the unpleasant thoughts down. 

“How was your day today, baby?” You’d coo to him as though he had just come back from his 9 to 5, just another day in the office. 

He’d mumble something incoherent and pull himself off of you, trudging to the kitchen, eager to drown his demons. If your liquor cabinet ever found itself empty, he’d probably down the rubbing alcohol next, just to have something, to have anything to numb his humanity. 

You made your best attempts to coax his softer side out, reminiscing about the older days, the sweeter days, the gentler days. But those were days he’d rather not remember. Your greatest treasures, your most cherished memories, they did nothing more than remind him of a time when he was happy, of a time when he was more than the monster he’d become. 

You made his favorite meals, put on his favorite shows for him to watch, tried to make him feel comfortable, to make him feel loved. But he didn’t know how to love you anymore. He’d long forgotten emotions like love. He’d rejected emotions like love. And you knew that. But still, you’d convince yourself that your husband would come home one day, that the man who’d smiled so wide when you agreed to marry him that you worried his cheeks might burst, would walk through the doors at any moment, hands clean, eyes lit up, as he said to you, “Sorry for keeping you waiting, love.”

So you told yourself the most sickeningly sweet lies. Drowned yourself in delicious deceit. Got drunk on a version of him that no longer existed. 

Sometimes, the delusion was strong enough that you could convince yourself that you even loved the beast that he’d become. That you didn’t mind the steel in his gaze, didn’t mind the ice in his demeanor, didn’t mind the venom in his voice. He pushed you away to protect you. He pushed you away because he loved you. He pushed you away because he couldn’t control the sheer depths of feelings for you. That was it. 

He’d never forget your birthday. He’d never forget your anniversary. He was just late. He was just picking up a gift somewhere. It was going to be the most magnificent gift you’d ever seen. He was just stuck in traffic. 

The cops that frequented your doorstep didn’t know what they were talking about. Your friends didn’t know what they were talking about. Mikey’s friends didn’t know what they were talking about. No one knew him but you. You knew he was a good guy. You knew he wouldn’t do the things they said he did. You knew he was coming home any minute, just waiting for you to welcome him, just needing you to believe him, just needing you to love him. He’d saved your life so many times, this was the one thing you could do to repay him. You could love him through anything. You would love him through anything. Whatever this was, this was a phase. This was a rough patch. All marriages had them. Yeah. This was normal. 

And when he’d forget your name, hurl insults at you, get so drunk he threatened you with a broken glass bottle to get out of his house, you still ignored the aching in your chest. Your heart wasn’t broken, it wasn’t empty, it wasn’t lonely, it was simply on sabbatical. Even as the tears burst from your eyes, even as the bruises on your wrists deepened in color, you swore you loved him. You swore you’d love him until the day you died. 

And when the day came sooner than you thought, when the bodies of your friends, of his friends, filled the morgue, the stench of betrayal and rotting flesh ripe in the air, when his cold eyes, his distant eyes, finally found your gaze, finally looked straight at you, for the first time in months, his gun digging itself deep into your forehead, you still swore to yourself that he loved you, swore to yourself that you loved him. And when he hesitated, you swore you saw a glimpse of the old Mikey. You swore you were looking into your husband’s eyes. 

Then he pulled the trigger.

[babydollmarauders]

HITS DIFFERENT— JACK HUGHES

final part of the Midnights Fic List

summary: in which y/n and Jack were in a relationship for 4 years before deciding to go separate ways, but everything reminds her of him and y/n realizes she’s made a mistake by letting him go.

specific lyrics: “i washed my hands of us at the club, you made a mess of me. i pictured you with other girls in love, then threw up on the street.” and “they say that if it's right, you know. each bar plays our song, nothing has ever felt so wrong.” and “i find the artifacts, cried over a hat, cursed the space that i needed. i trace the evidence, make it make some sense why the wound is still bleedin'. you were the one that i loved.” and “i heard your key turn in the door down the hallway. is that your key in the door? is it okay? is it you?” and “i never don't cry at the bar. yeah, my sadness is contagious. i slur your name 'til someone puts me in a car.” and “love is a lie; shit my friends say to get me by.”

notes: i don't know how i feel about this one. i feel like i could've potentially done better, but anyways MIDNIGHTS FIC LIST IS OFFICIALLY DONE! it's a month later than i had originally wanted to finish it, but it's finally done!

the reflection staring back at me is a bit of a hot mess. mascara smudged, hair tousled, lipstick fading. i stare in the mirror until i feel the sting of the hot water on my hands, pulling them back with a hiss of pain. the alcohol running through my veins helps me avoid overthinking about this dingy club bathroom, my shoes sticking to the floor with every step. but the buzz does nothing to help with the thoughts that run through my mind when i hear the song that’s blasting from the speakers throughout the club.

“y/n/n, you good?” my head snaps over to Marie, her upper body peeking in through the bathroom door. one look at me makes her sigh. “you’re thinking about him again, aren’t you?”

“it’s our song.” i explain, as though she hasn’t heard the same excuse at every other bar we’ve been to in the past six months.

“i know it is, hun.” she gives me a pitiful smile, fully entering the grimy bathroom in order to grab my hand.

“it just feels so wrong hearing it without him.” tears well up in my eyes, my heart hurting just a little extra.

“let’s go get you another drink.” i give a numb nod in response, letting her lead me to our other friends that sit in a booth by the bar. at the sight of my state, they both give each other an unspoken glance before giving me a look of pity.

“i ordered you another tequila sunrise.” Beth tells me, sliding the drink towards me. i drop into the booth, muttering a short ‘thanks’ before gulping at the drink.

“lay it on us, babe. what’s on your mind tonight?” Lisa pipes up, sipping at her own drink and raising a brow at me.

“i just— they say that if it’s right, you know. and i thought we were right. but, it makes no sense because why didn’t i know until we broke up? i mean, i knew. obviously i knew, i followed him here from Michigan. but, i didn’t know know until we separated, ya know?”

“i’m gonna be honest, i only understood maybe half of what you just said.” Lisa says, making Beth and Marie giggle. “but love is a lie, y/n/n. sure, you can like someone enough to be with them for a long time, but romantic love? complete bullshit. it doesn’t exist. this isn’t the movies.”

“she’s right. and the quicker you realize that, the quicker you’ll get over him.” Marie nods, pointing at Lisa as she speaks while Beth hums in agreement.

“i don’t know if i’ll ever get over him. i love him. i miss him.” i whine. “i want him back. i don’t wanna be here. i want Jack.”

“alright, maybe it’s time we get you back home.” Beth sighs, tapping her thumbs on her phone. ordering an uber, i assume.

“i don’t wanna go home. i wanna see Jack.”

“you can’t see Jack, y/n. you’re drunk, and you guys broke up.” Marie pats my shoulder, helping me out of the booth and out of the club, the other two girls following behind us.

i continue mumbling to myself, my words slurred, and i’m eighty percent sure that the only actual audible word was my ex’s name.

“c’mon, hun. watch your head.” Lisa coos, helping me into the uber. “we’ll see you on tuesday, babe. get some sleep.”

Marie and Beth call out some goodbyes before Lisa shuts the car door, she motions for the guy up front to lower his window, whispering something to him before he starts off towards my house.

“would it be too late to ask to change the drop off location?” i ask him, anxiously playing with the strap of my purse as i speak.

“i’m sorry, ma’am. your friend just told me you might ask that. she said i’m under strict orders to take you straight to the predetermined destination.” i heave out a deep breath, slumping back into the seat of the car.

it doesn’t take too long to get to my apartment complex, muttering a ‘thank you’ to the man before sliding out of the vehicle and making my way up to my apartment. as soon as i make it into the apartment, i bee-line for my bedroom, stripping out of my club outfit and changing into some leggings and a tank top. i wipe off my makeup and throw my hair up before entering my closet. my sights set on the old USA Hockey sweatshirt on my shelf, i hop up, reaching for the article of clothing. however, as soon as i pull it down, something else comes tumbling down with it, falling to the floor in front of me.

slipping the sweatshirt on, i bend down to pick up the fallen item. holding it, tears prick the backs of my eyes as i realize what it is, Jack’s hat. his New York Yankees hat to be exact. my heart aches remembering the times he wore it. our Yankees game, date nights, even just lounging around the house. clutching the hat to my chest, i sink to the floor, sitting criss cross as i cry.

space. why did i think i needed space? i got plenty of space when he was always gone for roadies. fuck space. i just want him. my fingers trace the Yankees symbol, my tears falling down onto the dark blue fabric. why does it still hurt so bad? it’s been six months.

i know it may not help that i’m still in the same apartment we shared. every piece of this home reminds me of him. but it’s been much too hard to move. i tried looking at other apartments, but nothing felt as right as this one. i’m not ready to give up the last piece i have of the one i love.

too busy crying on the closet floor, i barely hear the lock on the front door turning. my head snaps up at the sound, trying to remember which of my friends have spare keys. Marie, Beth, and Lisa are the only ones, but i just left them. that only leaves two other options, Quinn or Jack. but, that i’m aware of, Quinn is still in Vancouver. i know he doesn’t have another game in New Jersey until next month. which only leaves Jack. i try not to get my hopes up, but i can’t help but wonder if it’s him, if he’s come back. the chances are slim. it’s been six months, why would he come back now?

i come to the decision that it’s probably Marie checking up on me. probably worried about the way i was when we parted not that long ago. it wouldn’t be the first time she’s checked on me.

footsteps thump against the wooden floors, getting closer to the bedroom, and i huddle further into the closet, hoping Marie will just leave me alone. tears still stream down my face as i clutch the hat closer to my chest, letting out silent sobs.

“y/n?”

that’s not Marie.

too exhausted, i opt out of leaving the closet, not even able to get myself to speak without being racked with sobs. i sniffle as i hear him pass the closet, the footsteps stop for a moment before i hear them start again, getting closer to the cracked open closet door. i don’t bother looking, fully believing that at this point i’m a mix of drunk and sleep deprived, just hearing things that aren’t there. i wipe at my eyes but the tears keep coming. i shift to bring my knees to my chest, the hat now gripped in my hands in front of me.

“oh, baby.” i hear from behind me before a body drops down beside me on the floor, pulling me into them. his cologne fills my senses, my face buried into his chest. the scent fills me with melancholy, memories of when he used to hold me close and whisper sweet nothings in my ear. comforting me. making me feel at home within his arms.

“it’s okay.” as if i summoned the whispers with my thoughts, his breath fans across my ear. “i’m here. i’ve got you. i’m right here.”

his reassurances calm me just slightly, but the real help is when he splays a hand along my chest, taking deep breaths. muscle memory takes over as i mimic his breathing.

“what are you doing here?” i ask once i’ve finally calmed enough to speak. i wipe at my nose with the sleeve of my sweatshirt, finally looking up into the blue eyes that peer down at me.

“Beth called me.” he whispers.

“she did?”

“yeah. she told me you’re not doing okay.” he confesses. “she didn’t tell me much more than that. just that she’d really appreciate if i checked on you.”

“you came over here in the middle of the night just to check on me?” i question. “you have a game tomorrow. you should be sleeping.”

“you’re a lot more important than a game.” his hand moves from my chest to cup my jaw. “i told you i would always be here for you, y/n. i meant it.”

“but, we broke up. i didn’t think you cared anymore.” a lone tear drops from my right eye as i speak.

“i’ll always care about you. i don’t think i can ever stop. i love you, y/n/n. and i know you said you wanted space, and i respected that, but i told you when we broke up that i would be here when you decided you were ready.” he pauses, his eyes scanning my face before he continues speaking. “and now i really hope you’re ready because these past few months have been hell without you.”

“i made a mistake. i don’t want space. i want you. you’re the only thing i’ve wanted since i was seventeen.” my voice is barely above a whisper, scared for his response.

“you have me. i’m right here.” his eyes jump between my own and my lips three times before he leans down. i meet him halfway, our lips pressing together in a slow kiss. gentle passion and love radiates between us, his hands cupping my face as mine grip the nape of his neck as if he'll disappear from my hold.

pulling away, his forehead leans against mine. my breath catches in my throat at the sight of the smile gracing his lips. a smile of my own spread across my face and i crane my neck to place a chaste kiss on his lips.

"i missed you so much." i admit. "moving on from boys in high school was so easy, but the heartbreak hit different this time."

"that's how you know it's real. we're real. there's no moving on from us." he tells me. "at least, not for me."

he pulls me in tighter against him, crashing his lips against mine once more, and i feel content again, my life being fixed with such a simple motion.

[swarmishstrangers]

i’ll give you my entire left tiddy for some more mspar alien difference fluff. written or drawn, with mallek or marvus or pretty much anyone else. warm blooded/cold blooded cuddles with marvus. mallek purring and being embarrassed abt it. mspar not realizing they’re being flirted with til someone spells it out to them. just any troll/human (??) difference shit or any of your hcs please i’m starving

Starve no more!! I'll feed you AND me cause I honestly fucking live for alien differences between trolls and humans like? Omg...I'll try to sneak some Mallek and Marvus for ya since you seem to mention both of them (and I'll throw in some other ones for more comparisons >:])

So for general troll temperature headcanons, let me tell you, you'd better enjoy being cold/not be too bothered by it cause the higher on the spectrum, the colder the blood you're touching and cuddling. The warmest a troll will ever be is if they're a mutantblood, the closest thing to getting to normal human body temperatures and the ones with any real warmth to them. Rust bloods being the lowest on the hemospectrum that aren't mutants don't have as much warmth but still tend to run warmer than other blood types on the hemospectrum. Not exactly lukewarm, little bit warmer than that. When we hit the goldbloods, that's when it starts getting lukewarm temperatures. Smack dab in the middle of the spectrum, the Jades, aren't very warm or anything, but it's a few hairs away from being able to consider them cold feeling. Anything above the jades is when things start getting cold.

Teals you could say are cold, maybe not unpleasantly so, you could feel such a difference that you would no longer feel any real warmth. Cerulean is when the temperatures could be so stark as opposed to human warmth that coming into direct skin to skin contact with it could definitely shock your skin and make you flinch initially. Purples are. Man. Remember how I said you'd better like being cold? This is where the cold could be the brink of being unpleasant for some who can't handle it very well, it really starts setting in the longer you choose stay in physical contact with them. Violets, I'd argue, would be downright unpleasantly cold to the touch, like, you know how if you go outside in the snow and your body feels numb and face would be stinging? Like that.

With that general stuff of how perceive the coldness of some trolls established. Um. Mallek and Marvus :} I'm going to apologize in advance, Marvus is a character I've always been intimidated by in terms of writing. I feel like I just don't get him enough, and I'd hate to mischaracterize him :(( but I'll do my best!! (Putting a break here cause I type a lot)

Marvus and Mallek I feel like have a tendency to be mischievous little shits sometimes, once becoming aware and acquainted with the warmth Mspar emits and how cold they are in comparison they like to have fun with it. Mallek likes to do that thing some people do, ya know, where people take something fucking cold like a thing of ice cream or an ice cold drink and fucking PRESS it against your skin and it makes you scream? That. But no ice cream, it's his hand touching their bare skin (which still makes them shriek and jolt in surprise). They turn around and playfully smack him on the shoulder in retaliation.

Marvus likes doing the same thing but for him GOD FUCK the cold feels so much worse than Mallek. Bitch IS the ice being pressed against your skin. He doesn't even need to use his whole hand, he could press a finger to them and get a reaction. Punching doesn't do much to Mallek anyways, trolls and their thicker skins, but Marvus doesn't have a lot of squish to begin with. It's weird punching someone who feels so..solid? Not to say he's got absolutely no squish, but he has very little of it.

Cuddling... ahehhehehe cracks knuckles.

Since I'm already talking about Marvus lemme get to him already. Since he is a freezer, it'll take a bit to get fully comfortable laying against him. Warmth can overpower or balance out a trolls temperature, this is something that's very hard to do with bloods higher than indigo. Something like either them or Marvus wearing a good amount of clothing to separate makes it to where they don't feel immediately uncomfortable with the chill of his skin. Marvus I feel like is kinda finicky when it comes to touch or laying for long periods of time?? It's kinda funny, you could hug him, and he'd allow it for just a few seconds before he'd wiggle his way out of it, a playful look to his eyes. Or allowing you to rub his skin for a bit before pulling away. Only when he's tired or is ready to be settled in completely is when you can really, for real, cuddle him without him squirming out of it.

Now Mallek? Umpfh. Touch starved. Mspar too actually, I headcanon that they are a touched starved person themselves. So how about two touched starved people help another out..by cuddling. And everything else that involves touch under the moon really.

For him, he kinda loses it when he's in physical contact with them. It's the warmth! It really gets to him, and it makes his brain go nuts. He used to fight the overwhelming urge to wrap them up really tight in his arms cause ya know. Snake brain, cold, friend/flushcrush is warm, curl around the warmth. He didn't fight it anymore when they actively sought out physical touch from him themselves and was actively encouraging him and letting him know it was okay to search for it back.

It was through being around him that they discovered the most surprising thing they never thought of a troll doing. Purring.

They have never heard of a sound as soft as purring coming from a troll.

Trolls only purr in the presence of those they feel the utmost comfort with. To feel the safest with, to trust them the most, and to be at your most vulnerable with. It's super intimate stuff in troll culture. Hearing that anywhere out in public could make trolls snap their head in that direction and make them flush in the face. Get a room!!

I imagine it was one of those many days where they stayed over at his hive. They had just decided that they were done playing video games and it from leaning against each other in silence while the game systems powered off, then it transitioned into Mspar coaxing Mallek to lay on then while they had their back laid down on his lounge plank. His weight against them was comforting to them.

They were just nuzzling his shoulder and rubbing their hands all up and down his back and sides, all with no patterns to it. He had his face pressed against their chest, his arms pushed underneath them to wrap around them. They could feel his smile against their skin, and they were all smiles and happy, too. Then they, well, they felt it before they heard it.

It was something they didn't even notice at first, the rumbling, the small vibrations emitting from his throat and chest. When it was growing stronger and the purring became audible, they still didn't question it at first. They were just so comfortable, and the cuddling was just so nice, his purring could put them to sleep and...wait. Purring?

When the realization of Mallek purring hit them, they temporarily halted their hand movements. Mallek stayed put for a bit before his purring stuttered a little, and he cracked an eyelid open to gaze at them, wondering why they stopped. He finds them kind of staring at him, their hands still under his tank top just stopped on his back.

"you okay;"

This snaps them out of it and they and they lean in to kiss his forehead, Mallek snorts in response and immediately relaxes against them again.

They kindaaa wanted to point it out at in the moment but ultimately decided against it so that he didn't get embarrassed or shy and stops. They think it's SUPER fucking cute.

As for general differences between troll and human romance? Cracks fingers. Obviously it depends on what quadrant a troll is interested in having you in. I'll go with red romance for now unless someone later wants the other quads too lol.

I talked about purring before and purring is a BIG one. Purring is how trolls communicate that they feel absolutely safe and comfortable in their partners presence along with purring being a form to heal when their partner is hurt or isn't feeling well. It leaves them very open and vulnerable and so it feels very intimate for most trolls. A troll purring in the presence of human they're interested in a human may not pick up the significance of it so they just see it at its simplest until explained. Some trolls may feel a little hurt when their human partners don't pick up on their purring and they don't purr back in response, again, until explained that humans aren't capable of making sounds such as purring. Make no mistake though! Troll purring does not sound like how a cat's would. It's sounds like how you would imagine an insect purring would sound like.

Sleeping in the presence of a person you're interested in or around your partner is another big thing trolls do. Sleeping near other trolls is again, a vulnerability thing. To sleep near someone? To be so open and let your guard down like that? To trust someone that much? Wipes sweat from brow. Humans being able to do this with trolls they're even a little comfortable with is absolutely flabbergasting to most trolls.

Okay there's sleeping when someone is nearby...then there's sleeping WITH someone. No not like that ya nasties. Sleeping with someone, in their recuperacoon, it's a vulnerability thing again woo boy. It's the HIGHEST form of trust a troll could show their partner! The significance of this can really go over a human's head, they truly don't understand the gravity of trust at play here.

Here's something not sleep related. Scent marking. This one is more subtle than just. A partner wearing their sign or typing the way their typing quirk is. This one is when a troll leaves something, take a shirt or their socks or something, at their partners hive. It leaves a bit of them, their scent, there and it's meant for their partners + any other trolls that are over know. Humans tend to also seek their partner's scent/how they smell (think stealing your partners clothes), it's another thing that means more deeply than they originally think about.

[nicole-timey-wimey-stuff]

Who’s Afraid Of Little Old Me?

Dbf Joel Miller x fem reader (previous) No apocalypse AU

Spencer Reid x reader

Based on Taylor Swifts song, who’s afraid of little old me.

Warnings- Angst! Lots of angst, reader has a breakdown. Arguments, Joel’s a dick!, cuss words, supportive parents, Spencer’s a sweetheart as always, mentions of infidelity, heartbreak, some suggestive thoughts, 18+, if you like a Dbf Joel happy ending don’t read this! Happy ending with Spencer though.

So this idea just kinda popped into my head after listening to the song over and over, so at 2am I hashed this out (probably terribly proof read), also I am nearly finished with Pretty little letters 2, which will be up in a few days :).

We’ve all had that one ex who lead us to temporary insanity during the break up. 💔

Word count- 3.4K

The scandal was contained

The bullet had just grazed

At all costs, keep your good name

You don't get to tell me you feel bad

… Is it a wonder I broke? Let's hear one more joke

Then we could all just laugh until I cry

… So I leap from the gallows and I levitate down your street

Crash the party like a record scratch as I scream

"Who's afraid of little old me?"

I was tame, I was gentle 'til the circus life made me mean

"Don't you worry, folks, we took out all her teeth"

Who's afraid of little old me?

Well, you should be

… You should be

(You should be) You should be

'Cause you lured me (you should be)

And you hurt me (you should be)

And you taught me

________________________________________

Numbness, the feeling you felt right now. He was explaining to you why it had to be this way, why he had to end everything you had built together. Your dads best friend, that’s who you’d fallen for, like an idiot you allowed yourself to be swept off your feet by this man. He initiated this, started this crazy love affair, yes you’d flirted with him but never in your wildest dreams did you think anyone would act on anything.

You’d told him as much when this first started, said this wasn’t a good idea, that you’d get caught, someone would end up hurt, or he’d lose his 11 year friendship with your dad. He assured you that you’d figure it out together, that he wanted you and he wasn’t going to let you go now he finally had you. He’d broken every promise.

Joel Miller, a man who was supposed to have honour, be someone you could trust in, he’d wrecked it all. “So that’s it? It’s over? You’re ending this now? After you promised we could work through anything?” You demanded.

“Yeah darlin, I’m sorry but it’s for the best, your dad is getting suspicious, and people in the community saw us together, we can’t keep givin’ them the grabbing somethin’ for your father crap y/n! This needs to end, I shouldn’t have let it go this far” Joel declares.

“Or we could just tell them we are together? That we care about each other?” You ask.

“No” he deadpans, “This ends now, I’m sorry y/n” then he walks away, leaving you to pick up the pieces of your shattered heart.

________________________________________

Days, you sat there in your window seat staring out into space, you went through everything over and over in your head, where you’d gone wrong, what had you done to cause him to break things off? He promised! Promised you’d get through it all, that you’d sort things out, and you believed him! How naive were you? You’d given yourself to him completely.

You felt ashamed, how did you let this happen? Surely you knew it could only lead to heartbreak. Memories of heated nights fill your mind, tender touches, deep kisses while he buried himself inside you. Tears sting your eyes once more, before you choked on full blown sobs. Burying your face into your hoodie sleeves you scream out in tearful frustration.

A week passes by in a blur, you decide to pull yourself out of this zombie state, deciding to go to the community BBQ this evening, you’d see him there and if you act like maybe nothings bothered you, he’d see his mistake and beg for you back? Or you’d at least get some closure.

You showered, put on your best little black sundress and gave yourself some Smokey eyes to complete your look. Heading down the stairs your dad seemed shocked to see that you were coming, “Hey kiddo! I didn’t think you’d be up for tonight, with how sad you’ve been. You ready to tell me what’s going on now?” He asks, “Boy trouble dad, I’ll be ok” you respond.

He pulls you into a tight dad hug, kissing the top of your head. “Well you know I’m always here for you kiddo right?” He asks, “Yeah dad I know, I’m fine I promise.” You try to assure him “Ok, come on then” he responds before motioning you out the door.

The BBQ was your typical neighbourhood party, people already drunk singing country anthems at the top of their lungs, kids running riot, their mothers trying to keep up. But there in the corner talking to his brother Tommy stood Joel, looking as handsome as ever as he was animatedly explaining something. You make your way over to him but stop dead in your tracks, his ex Tess walks out of the community hall and straight into Joel’s arms, he gives her a smile wrapping his arm around her shoulders, before continuing his story with Tommy.

You stood in absolute shock, it’s been 10 days! Just 10 mere days since he broke things off with you! The audacity! Was this already going on when you were together? You must have caught his attention in your current state, because he was now walking towards you, ‘fuck this!’ You think, before you turn around and run for the exit, shoving anyone in your way aside. “Y/N!” You heard Joel shout, “Y/N wait! Please let me explain” he continues, but all you can do is run! And before you know it you’d ran 6 streets over to your front door.

You slam the door closed behind you locking it and falling to the floor, as sobs wrecked through you, how could he do this? Was it all a lie?. You fell into your bed eventually, the tears wearing you out into a deep sleep.

________________________________________

You avoided him for days, he’d tried coming over several times while your dad was at work. You ignored every knock, every call, he’d even sent you a ton of messages.

Hey y/n

Please answer, we need to talk about this please!

Hey again

Look please I need to explain it all, please don’t tell your dad everything in spite. I know this has probably upset you, but I can’t have my name dragged through the mud here. I have a family, Sarah is your age, she can’t find out please.

And so they went on, you’d gone from sad to angry now, you allowed the burning embers of rage overtake you. How dare he! He should have thought of that before he started this, he doesn’t get to keep his good name, tell you he feels bad but to get on with it. No this wasn’t going to go down this way!

4th July celebrations were in progress, there was to be a whole day of it. Fireworks on the green, a community party, alcohol and EVERYONE would be there. It’s been two weeks since the BBQ, two weeks you’d ignored Joel and gathered up all your anger, tonight was the night you’d release it. To think you used to be so tame, so gentle and kind, he’d stomped it all out of you, you deserved closure. Was it closure though you seeked? Or was it revenge.

As you arrived at the party the sun was beginning to set, bright colours painting the sky. All eyes watched you as you walk through the crowds, most likely still wondering about your fast exit last time, or the determined look on your face making them all nervous. You make your way over to the bar ordering two whiskeys, you promptly neck one, letting the amber liquid burn your throat, before taking the other with you. Joel spots you instantly, leaving Tess’s side to come talk to you, panic written all over his face.

“Y/N hey, can we talk please? I need to explain things and then we can put this all behind us” Joel asks, you let out a humorous laugh “Put this behind us? You move on in mere days, and I’m to get over it? Did it begin before we ended?” You demand, “What! No! I bumped into her a couple of days after our conversation, look let’s move somewhere where less public people are watching” he offers.

“Ha! Why? Are you afraid of little old me?” You goad, while he stutters at your outspoken comment you declare,

“You should be”.

“What, y/n no come on we can sort it” he pleads, you hadn’t noticed your dad watching your exchange with worried eyes, nor had you seen him make his way over to you both “Hey guys is everything ok here?” Your dad asks, “Well maybe you should ask Joel that, how about it Joel? Is everything ok?” You sneer, “Buddy?” Your dad asks him, “Yeah everything’s fine, isn’t it y/n?” He asks imploring you to see reason.

“No, no it’s not, I’m sorry what did you think was going to happen Joel? I said at the start we shouldn’t have began this, you told me we’d sort through it. You made me fall for you, told me you fell for me too, then when things got hard you dumped me, moved on to her two days later!” You shout pointing at Tess, everyone was now watching you, hearing the raised voices. “Joel, please tell me this isn’t true” your dad implores, “I’m so sorry Dave, I’m so sorry, it just happened I never meant for it to go this far” Joel begs, a loud smack echos through the air, gasps heard from everyone as your dads fist connects with Joel’s jaw.

Tess comes running over now, and your dads loosing it with Joel “How could you! My daughter Joel! She’s the same age as Sarah!”

“I know buddy I know, I have no excuse, I ended things when I realised what I’d done, I didn’t mean to hurt her” Joel answers, “She’s only 20 Joel! You’re 48! Did you really think her emotionally mature enough to consent and then deal with the break up?” your dad bellows. Tess is the one standing in shock now, clearly she had no clue about you at all. “Well I didn’t think she’d act this crazy no!” Joel shouts, this time it’s your fist that connects with Joel’s face, his nose lets out a loud crack as your hand makes contact.

“Fuck you Joel! Never come near me again! Never call or message, stay the hell out of mine and my dads lives!” You state, “Dad can we go please?” You whimper “Yeah, of course darlin, come on let’s get out of here”. You turn to the crowd who are all still silent, staring at you in shock “What!” You shout, anger still filling you, your dad ushers you away from the crowds and into the car.

Once you’d arrived home your dad finally spoke to you, “Why didn’t you tell me?” Tears start falling again, “I thought he loved me dad, I though we’d work it out, then eventually tell you. I’m such an idiot!” You cry, he pulls you in tight “No sweetheart you’re not, you’re not. We will get though this, I’m here for you”.

________________________________________

That was six years ago now, you’d packed up and moved up north back in with your mother, both you and your dad decided it was for the best. He didn’t want to see you go, but you weren’t emotionally stable at that point and you needed to get away from the ‘Situation’.

So after a lot of therapy, comfort from your mum and your dad, some self reflection and some determination, you graduated medical school with honours. You’d completely turned your life around, joined an amazing team at the BAU (behavioural analysis unit) as their resident pathologist.

Which is where you met a wonderful man called Spencer Reid. He was everything you needed in a partner, he was kind, sweet, attentive and he showed you off as his proudly.

You loved this man immensely, you’d been completely honest about your past, about Joel, and your break down. He’d in turn told you about his mum, all her issues, and his sad childhood. He also told you about his addiction that he’s overcome, you became each others rocks, one another’s biggest supporters, but most of all you made the other whole again.

Your parents loved Spencer, they disagreed with most things, but they both agreed that Spencer was perfect for you, he brought out the best in you and they were so happy that you were happy.

Walking into your shared apartment after a long day at comic con, you took off your matching Dr Who scarfs and cuddled up on the couch. “That was great fun! We should make this an annual thing!” You declare, “Yeah absolutely, did you know that the first comic con began in 1970 when a small group of comic book, movie, and science fiction fans from San Diego put on an event, only 300 people attended! And since then, Comic-Cons grown into the global phenomenon that it is today” Spencer explained, you smiled along loving his info dumping. He always gets so excited, and you love watching his face light up as he tells you whatever fact is on his mind.

“That’s so interesting! Well I thank that group of fans then, because that was super fun!” You reply, Spencer smiles at you before pulling you into a sweet kiss. “Have you decided what you want to do this weekend? Did you want to go?” He asks, tentatively moving a strand of hair from your face. “I don’t know, it’s hard because Mrs Harris has been next door to me and my dad since forever, it’s her 80th birthday party and I should go. But part of me still worries about seeing him there” you explain.

“I know, and I understand. But I will be there with you the whole time holding your hand.” He offers, bringing your hand up to his lips, pressing a loving kiss to your palm. “Yeah, ok we will go, but if I get uncomfortable at any point….” “Then we will leave” he states, you nod “Ok”.

________________________________________

Arriving back in Austen Texas was nerve wrecking, your leg shakes in the cab back to your dads place. Spencer places his hand on your thigh to try and steady its shaking, “Hey, look at me baby, it’s going to be ok! You have me and your dad and we aren’t going to let anyone be mean to you” Spencer assures. Your sweet sweet man, if only it was that simple, you place your hand over his and give it a little squeeze, your way of saying I’m ok.

As you exit the car you take in the house you’d always called home, not much had changed. There was a new lick of paint on the exterior, some new plants out front, but all in all it was the same. You sigh, it was nice to be home again, for the last six years your dad had come to Virgina to see you, so you didn’t have any unwanted feelings arise, but now it was time. Time to put everything behind you, to get real closure and relinquish any power he still has over you.

The front door opens abruptly startling you, “There she is!!! My baby girl is home” your dad gushes as he pulls you into a big bear hug, “It’s great to see you again too Spencer” he adds. “Nice to see you again too sir” Spencer replies, “Please you don’t need to use sir it makes me feel old as hell” your dad laughs, causing Spencer to bashfully nod. “It’s great to see you dad, six months has been too long!” You admit, “It sure is baby girl! Ok let’s get you both settled in before the big event this evening” your dad says, grabbing your bag and heading inside. He was still a little worried about how you were going to get through today, even though you had assured him several times you were ok, that you needed to do this in order to fully move on from the situation.

Dressed up that evening you stared at yourself in your old bedroom mirror, flashbacks of this very same moment six years ago go through your mind, only this time you have Spencer holding your hand, the love of your life, your best friend. Also this time your dad knew what was going on, you had love and support, this time was different.

“You look beautiful” Spencer smiled, “I’m so lucky to call you as mine” he admits pulling you against him, hands cupping your face as his lips meet yours in a loving kiss. You shake your head, “No it’s me that’s lucky, because I have you” you whisper against his jaw, nuzzling your nose against his neck, letting his scent comfort you. “Come on then, let’s get this over with” you declare, “Ok baby, remember what we said?” He asks, “Yup three squeezes to your hand and we will leave right away” you recite, he nods at you guiding you out the room and down the stairs.

You arrive at the community centre and take it all in, the last time you were here your heart broke, but holding Spencer’s hand you actually felt ok, there were fairy lights webbed above your head, twinkling in the night air, lighting up the courtyard. Mrs Harris stood by food table helping herself to all the sweet treats, you huff a small laugh under your breath, some things never change. Walking up to her you see her face light up “y/n! It’s so good to see you dear, it’s been years! How are you? And who is this handsome young man?” She asks, causing Spencer to go a bright shade of pink, “Mrs Harris! Happy Birthday!” You say as you give her a warm hug, “This here is my boyfriend Spencer, we met at work. And yeah I’m good thank you! Life is really good actually” you smile.

“That’s great my dear, you deserve all the happiness you get, I hear you’re a Doctor now! What an achievement, your dad must be so proud!” She gushes, “Yeah bless him, I work for the FBI now as their pathologist” you explain, “Wow, that’s impressive, well done you! Well make sure you come say goodbye before you leave dear, maybe pop over mine for some tea too?” She asks, “Yeah I’d love that” you confirm.

Walking off you smile at Spencer, you hadn’t even noticed Joel yet, but he heard and witnessed the whole conversation, he’d heard you went to med school but didn’t know you had actually become a Doctor, nor that you had joined the FBI. That’s probably due to the loss of friendship with your father, he watched you with sad eyes, you hadn’t even noticed him yet, so swept up with this new love of yours.

You on the other hand had taken to the dance floor with Spencer, giggling as he twirled you around and pulled you in close. What had you done to deserve this wonderful sunshine of a man, he brightens up every dark corner of your mind, guiding you through and back into the light. You look over his shoulder and your eyes meet with Joel’s, you offer him a nod, one to say hey, and it’s ok I’m over it, I’ve moved on. This causes a searing pain in his chest, he hadn’t moved on, Tess left him that night after the truth came out. He’d realised he did still have feelings for you, he just got in his head and ran off like a scared little boy. A decision he bitterly regrets, looking at you now you’d truly gown up into a mature, brilliant and beautiful woman, despite the pain he’d caused you, you’d blossomed into a force to be reckoned with, a Doctor and an FBI agent.

You however felt closure, real closure this time, one that only develops after learning to love yourself, from realising you are enough and you can do anything you put your mind too, having a loving supportive partner helps too. You smile up at Spencer, resting your forehead against his, life has a funny way of working itself out to be the way it was always meant to be.

[moronkombat]

Erm could u perhaps do a nsfw fic for havik x gn reader including sadomasochism, knife play, kinda bloody/gory n stuff like that please? Its fine if ur not comfortable with it.

- Let's Get Numb - tw: blood, gore, violence, sadomasochism

They are alone. Alone with everyone. The decay, the rot , it clings to their skin and the air is rich with iron. Both of them so painted by each other, two masterpieces crafted by expert hands. The method of execution not one with soft strokes. Never would they lay a gentle path.

A paint brush becomes a blade, sharp and stinging. The liquid to color the canvass a rich cherry that pools and pools. What is this canvass? They are.

Nails coated in the tissues and blood mark their way down a back most exposed. Further and further they drag, parting the skin that binds their flesh. A groan, a cry, a scream the pain rocks through their body and their bones rattle.

It all such a delight all such a wonderous display. Havik purrs into laugh, stained eyes admiring his work but this merely the beginning. A licentious tongue wraps around his digits and the raw and untarnished taste of crimson has his eyes rolling.

That very same tongue swipes over exposed teeth before a hand grips a chin. He looks at them then and the crazed gaze he has is reflected back at him.

Hands are upon him now, slithering and searching. A distraction. Teeth are now upon the skin of shoulder and oh how they rip and tear. Blood pools in their mouth, a special treat, and teeth press into flesh deeper and deeper.

Havik seethes through his teeth, a breath sucked in while a face contorts wicked. His hand would push the back of their head wanting those teeth to tear again and again. And so they did while sharp nails scratch at his chest.

Hips roll and buck up into them, his cock sheathed in a veil of warmth. Atop his lap his muse sits, twisting and rolling hips that are covered in bruises. His gift to them and Havik had much more to give.

A bloodied tongue laps at his wound not to soothe but to taste and gather his crimson. Wet, it moves up the length of his aching neck. Up and up until a gore covered tongue begins to swipe over teeth exposed between a mangled cutis.

There is that purr again and he laughs low and grumbled as his partner smears his own blood across his face and mouth. They to not stop there, no not even close. Their tongue pries those jaws open and blood and saliva mingle and now Havik tastes iron.

His hands grip at their hips, and purple bruises are bleached white under his pressure before nails press and rip into them. The feeling of you tightening around his length does not go unnoticed and he scratches at your bruises continuously.

It is then he feels the sharp bite on his tongue, their teeth bursting that wet and fleshy muscle and the blood pours. Drip, drip, drop it runs down his chin, his chest and oh how it burns. He grabs their hair, forcing their neck to be that like a crane and still they smirk with lips coated in dripping blood

The reflection of light is caught on the curve of a blade as he fetches it. That neck of theirs exposed and vulnerable. The chill they receive as that knife's edge so lightly traces down the length of their craned neck has eyes fluttering.

Soon those eyes are wide and their lungs are burning. The tip of the blade cutting across the curve of their jaw. Eyes so manic watch as they yell in pain and Havik wants more more and more. The blade his brought from them and then to him and it begins to carve.

It cuts and shreds the skin of chest wide and deep and Havik laughs louder and louder. His own neck now craned back as he writhes in the joyous agony the two of them create. Lips upon his teeth, hands pulling his hair and yet again their tongues meet while he continues to fuck them raw. They will continue this path. They will carve each to pieces.

'Til they don't feel nothing.

[aritany]

straight on til morning | a.ritany | excerpt - CHAPTER NINE: CLOUDBURST

(image id under the cut!)

Cold wind bit through John’s thin T-shirt and he shivered as Peter lead him by the hand through the air. London stretched out underneath him. They were so far up that even the tallest buildings looked small. The only part of him that was warm at all was where Peter had hold of his fingers.

We’re flying, John thought, looking at the river snaking through the city. We’re really flying.

Tink whipped past his head so close that her wingtips stung John’s ear.

“I’m going to let go now,” Peter said. 

“What?” John asked. “No! Peter—”

“Just trust yourself!”

And he released John. 

So certain was he that he was about to plummet to his doom, John squeezed his eyes shut. Some part of him had been quite sure that Peter was the only thing keeping him up, and so it took him a minute after the rush of wind on his face stayed the same to be able to open his eyes again.

He wasn’t falling. He really wasn’t. He was flying, all on his own.

Next to him, Peter stretched his arms out to his sides and did a loop-de-loop in the air. 

John grinned.

They flew for what felt like hours, until London was long gone from underneath them, replaced by dark countryside, rolling hills, and forests.

“I thought you said something about a star!” John shouted, after he was so cold he could no longer feel his face. They were going so fast it was hard to hear, but not so fast it was quite impossible. 

“I did,” Peter responded. He was flying on his back, arms behind his head, as though he were relaxing on a beach towel. “But sometimes I get distracted by all of it. I mean, have you seen how lovely it is?”

It was lovely, John thought, as they raced over a glass-smooth lake, the moon’s reflection skating across its surface. It was just also freezing. His feet had gone numb some time ago.

“I suppose we should go up, though,” Peter said, as though John had raised an excellent point. He flipped onto his front, scanning the horizon, then pointed toward a thick wall of cloud straight ahead. They looked like storm clouds, John thought. Up until that point, they had been weaving between clouds, ducking over or under. But this was an impressive wall, and dark, too.

“Peter,” he shouted, getting only a mouthful of wind in response. “Peter, I don’t think—”

Peter crowed, evidently too far ahead to hear him. 

John flailed his arms and legs.

Peter looped back around for him and took hold of his hand again. “Hold on tight!”

They shot forward so quickly John hardly had time to prepare before the cloud swallowed them. 

If he had thought they were going fast before, this was nothing. This was so fast it felt like falling, but upward. As soon as they hit the cloud, Peter yanked John up. The clouds soaked John’s clothing straight through in an instant. His face was pelted with thousands of tiny raindrops so that he had to squeeze his eyes shut tight again. 

But Peter’s grip was strong on John’s fingers, and strangely, he was not afraid. 

“Are you ready?” Peter shouted over the rush of wind. 

It could have been moments later, or it could have been days. John couldn’t tell.

“Ready?” he shouted back. “For what?”

“Here we go!” Peter tipped forward quite suddenly, and took John with him, hurtling downward.

John yelled, but the roar of wind obscured the sound even to him. 

This was faster than falling. Peter was pulling him through the clouds at such a speed that the vapor felt like stinging nettle; John felt as though his arm might come out of its socket; it hurt to keep his eyes open, he squeezed them shut. 

And then Peter stopped at once, so quickly that John crashed into him from behind, unable to control himself enough to slow down, let alone enough to stop.

They went through the last cloud in a tangle of arms and legs, pinwheeling. Peter laughed uproariously. 

Already disoriented, the sudden dazzling sunlight nearly blinded John. The second Peter released him, John slapped his hands to his face to cover his eyes and sucked in a deep breath. Even with his eyes shut, he could tell he was still turning over and over, but slower, now.

“You alright?” Peter asked, voice coming from directly above John, then below. “The last bit can be a bit of a shock.”

John made a small, high pitched noise.

A hand on his elbow steadied him, and he stopped turning.

He kept his eyes shut for a few seconds, just in case.

“Look,” Peter said. “Here we are.”

Cautiously, John lowered his hands.

Below, the water was a bright, glorious, crystalline blue. The air was warmer here, even up high, sunlight gentle on John’s skin. 

And just behind Peter, so close it couldn’t be more than a thousand metres away, John saw it.

Neverland.

[squishykitty825]

Down bad crying at the Gym? Nah, just living life to the fullest (sort of)

Peel back the layers

what's underneath, you might ask

Skin

Tissue

Nerves and veins

Muscle and bone

You pick

and pick

and pick at the imperfections on the surface

You pick at them until you bleed

Thick scarlet liquid wells to the surface

It's an unconscious tick

It's not so much that they're imperfections, some of them have nothing about them that you dislike

Regardless of that distinction, it's not about those so-called flaws

It's the stimulation you get from doing it

It's the sensation of pain (however small and insignificant) that sends a signal to your brain

Reminding it that you're still alive, that you're still there

The pain brings a sense of being grounded

A feeling of returning to reality

A reminder that you are real

A reality-check, if you will

The feeling is unlike anything you've every felt before

Nothing else can drag you back from the overstimulation quite the same way

Nothing else can pull you from the recesses of your agitated senses

Not the music that usually calms your nerves and is currently playing in your ears

Not your best friend who cares enough to slap your hand away rather than avert their gaze

Not even the still small voice that whispers for you to stop

You wish you could drown out the incessant urge to scrape off the scabs

You wish you could heed your friend's empathetic advice

You wish so desperately that you could listen to that quiet hum of godly love

But you can't

No matter how hard you try

You can't ignore the impulse to claw at your skin

Can't ignore the need to feel something,

To feel anything aside from that empty pit of nothing where you asphyxiated your emotions at a young age

The sting of digging into your skin hides that void

It smothers the numbness you feel in place of those emotions that you can no longer identify

Emotions that you claim are overrated anyway

You know why you do this

You know what causes this inclination to rake your skin 'til it bleeds

It's not self-harm (though some may claim it so)

It's the impulsivity of your brain and the mental illness that urges you to do it

Some call it ADHD,

I call it life

[dnangelic]

" I missed Valentine's ! " He admits in the midst of the hurry of their reunion, voice a little loud with exasperation and frustration and a huffy laugh that masks every other bad thing. Guilt pulls and rips at his heart but it isn't enough to take away the smile on his lips, that giddy, lovestruck dumb thing that hurts where a bandaid covers cracked skin on his cheek, but it refuses to budge ever since he led eyes on Daisuke.

" Here. " Shou returns from rampaging in his bag with a simple white box, one that matches the bandages covering the hand that's holding it. Right, he hasn't explained that, nor anything yet, really. But he has his priorities set, definitely right, and nothing is going to change that. Once unwrapped from the atrocious glittering ribbon that holds it together, the box would reveal a single, smooth, big heart of classical brown chocolate dusted with sugar. Would have been a rather lonely piece. That's what passed along Shou's brainstorming process before deciding to add a couple more pieces, two wings of dark chocolates to either side.

Would the shape and taste even matter when he's gifting them late ? He couldn't get any less lame & unceremonious.

" I made them myself, Kaa-chan helped, not sure about the taste, I'm a bad taste tester, I thought it's only fair that I gift you first this time, and I ... uh ... " He muses out loud, loses track after handing over the box, hands return to his pocket, hiding away what they can. He simply stares for a few seconds, big blue eyes reflecting a mind devoid of answers, excuses, apologies. There is only longing and whole damn lot of it. Shit. He doesn't know how to do this. " I'm a terrible boyfriend. "

( obligatory valentine ask. shou flavored. intrusive thoughts ALWAYS WIN when it's him. )

@espectres

shou missed valentines . it's true , isn't it ? there's nothing daisuke can say , neither to defend himself nor the other . there's no lie that can cover the fact up for either of them ; no laugh of his own that can undo the long absence of the empty space it fills . no bandaid that could be stretched over the niwa's own personal scratch and wound , a small blood-letting gash that left him missing and wanting for shou more than anything else .

--- and how long could an empty heart ever endure ?

darker and darker , duller and duller , the boy had been prodded and needled by all sorts of thorny worries that had managed to take root during the day . one after another , plucked out stinging from his thoughts and what felt like his heart's ventricles : shou hadn't run away from him ? ( he would have never . ) shou hadn't gotten tired , fed up with the likes of a thief and a fallen angel's curse , both monstrous in their own right ? ( he would have said so . ) shou was safe ? ( he had to be . please , don't try to do everything all alone again . )

faith had weighed itself against every dreary anxiety , and it's why at that familiar expression on shou's wrecked face --- bashfulness tender as split knuckles , the lovestruck daze of someone hit by a lead pipe , the scales of daisuke's own thoughts feel to snap and break , and his heart starts to pound . entranced by atmosphere alone , there's a waking relief that pools out even from the numb ache in his limbs , this overwhelming furnace-burning as his hands turned wintry cold . even his most wretched face remains dazzled with wonder like this , reds starved as empty plates and only now dining on every sight , granting a live , thrashing bliss and ecstasy .

shou was here . had come back ; returned to , for him . shou still loved him --- and of course , he still loved shou .

arms wrap about the other and a kiss lands itself on their cleaner cheek with one swift impulse . he can't help but cradle shou closely , tightly , coveting this above all , momentarily ignoring the proffered chocolates to embrace the other for as long as it might take 'til he was satisfied , and his form soundlessly changed again . holidays came and went , and so did excuses to give each other sweets or sugary dates punctuated by laughter . shou was late , but what did it matter ? even late was still a presence , one that the niwa would have done just about anything , anything for .

' --- but you're still mine , shou-kun . ' soft and light even in guarding possessiveness , his usual cherub-chime . speak of terror and he'd confess to the thought of losing the other without as much as a farewell to give above all else , like so many others before . whatever's happened , he doesn't ask , only separating himself to let a hand cup and palm the space below their tended wound , holding them like this : flushed and swept away by one of the world's most incredible creations .

shou should have stayed with him and stayed safe , but they could talk about it later . right now , he had his own longings , after all .

' the chocolate ... um , w-will you feed it to me ? ' anything's good , as long as it's from you --- but i bet you worked on it , didn't you ? ' i really missed you . ' it's not enough to simply receive , to take the other's chocolate heart and leave . ' we can still make up for lost time . ' and i want all that i can get ---

with you .

' happy valentines , shou-kun . thank you . you're the best ! '

[kieralopez]

𝙼𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚒𝚏 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚛…

𝙊𝙧 𝙢𝙖𝙮𝙗𝙚 𝙞𝙛 𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙛𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙪𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮

the crunching of leaves under worn-in dr. martens. aimlessly walking around a seemingly empty art museum. thrifted clothing loitering every corner of your bedroom floor. chipped black nail polish. using your headphones as a way to avoid speaking to people. substituting honest with sarcastic and then hating how mean you were once you walk away. sorrow is like a black cat that purrs as it rubs up against your legs. to you, a friend is always with you; counting the books at the bottom of your tote and the ghosts that plague your head. you're looking for something, but you just can't reach it. i thought when tragedy struck, you weren't supposed to let it change you?

𝙉𝙤𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙏𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙠𝙨

Honey by Halsey || " She stings like she means it, she's mean / ... She's hell in a basket, just making a racket "

Final Girl by Chvrches || " Keeping secrets until everything became a bit too loud / I can wash it down / I could drown it out / ... By writing sentences I used to think were quite profound "

Panic Room by Au/Ra || " The lights spark and flicker / With monsters much bigger / Than what I can control now "

1980's Horror Film by Wallows || " She walked me back / Intro her room / But just to see / A 1980's Horror film / ... She said she's not really into guys "

Seashore by The Regrettes || " You're talking to me like a child / Hey, I've got news, I'm not a little girl / And no I won't give you a little twirl "

Nightmare by Halsey || " C'mon little lady, give us a smile / No, I ain't got nothing to smile about / I got no one to smile for, I waited a while for / A moment to say I don't owe you a goddamn thing "

Witches Burn by The Pretty Reckless || " Down on my knees when you call me a dog / 'I go cold like the change in seasons / 'Til I get close enough for a blade / To stick it in, then I'll spit on your grave "

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘽 𝙎𝙞𝙙𝙚 ( 𝘢 𝘷𝘶𝘭𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 )

original me by Yungblud feat. Dan Reynolds || " I'm self-critical, tryhard original / Oh, I pride myself on that, such a loser, I'll admit it / And I ask myself / When my time will come / Will I run away? "

Sincerity is Scary by The1975 || " You try and mask your pain in the most postmodern way / You lack substance when you say, something like, "Oh, what a shame" / It's just a self-referential way that stops you having to be human "

Baby, You're a Haunted House by Gerard Way || " And the nights, they last forever / And the days are always making you blue / In the dark we laugh together / Cause the misery's funny to you "

stfu by phem || " shut the fuck up with your self help shit / Roll me a blunt and let me handle it / Sittin' in the dark, in the silence / I cried all night and I feel sick "

madhouse by Nessa Barrett || " Go ahead, take a peek / Maybe let you under the hood / I'll scare the shit out of you more than anything else ever could / I scare myself sometimes "

Icarus by With Confidence || " And I heard / With every emphasis you put, on every word / With every lesson you taught but never learned / ... You think you really tried, did your best "

Numb by Linkin Park || " Can't you see that you're smothering me? / Holding too tightly, afraid to lose control / Cause everything that you thought I would be / Has fallen apart right in front of you "

[clairegregoryau]

First line meme

post the first line from the last 10 fics you posted (and are there any patterns?) - I got tagged by the lovely @spirker! Thank you for thinking of me ❤️

(I cheated a little bit. If the first sentence was five words or less, I grabbed the whole first physical line, through to the end of the second sentence).

~

Wants To Be Caught (rated E, modern AU, Love Beyond Borders Olympic diving series)

Ed’s got that look on his face when Stede walks into the aquatic centre office—the one that makes him raise his brow immediately.

~

Handle With Care (rated E, modern AU, sex toy mishap x mailman)

Stede’s had a hard month. It’s been a hard year, honestly, ever since that whole you think our lives are monotonous? argument with Mary had bloomed and burst into a million stinging shards of yes and don’t you? and is this all there is? Seriously?

~

'Til We See the Sunlight (rated E, modern AU, collab with @ghostalservice and @mossgroves, Olympic figure skating AU (we're aiming to get the last chapter of this one to you all soon!)

The text pops up on Ed’s phone as he’s walking by the river, trying to kick some feeling into his bad knee that isn’t just fuck that hurts.

~

Parallel Placement (rated E, modern AU, Love Beyond Borders Olympic diving series- first line of the last chapter since it was a long-running fic)

Finally, finally, the last of these seemingly endless days rush past, and all at once it goes from a mind-numbing wait to fucking panic stations.

~

Naughty Office Guy (rated E, modern AU, Ed gets caught out by IT guy Stede watching spicy videos at work...)

Mondays suck, all right? It’s just a fact, and everyone in Ed’s office has different ways of dealing with it.

~

The Treasure Trove (rated E, modern AU, reality TV AU)

Ed Teach is a man of good taste and professional cultural brilliance.

~

These Golden Days (rated E, historical AU, WWII/ London Blitz-set- mind the tags and notes!)

Ed Teach stands at the edge of the Underground platform, freshly shined boots lined up all neat, staring down at the gleaming rails.

~

Tree Change (rated E, modern AU, ecological mystery x FWB x Kinktober-inspired- by complicated deduction process I decided to post the last line of the second-last chapter, since it was a long-running fic and the last chapter's one is a little spoilery :P)

Ed knows there’s something wrong before his eyes are even open.

~

Rinse and Repeat (rated E, modern AU, Grindr buddies with Cinderella vibes)

“Yes,” Stede moans, perched on Ed’s lap, that broad freckled back of his shining with sweat, Ed’s fingers tangled in his curls. “Oh god, yes, right there—”

~

Shadow and Shine (rated E, magical/fantasy canon-alternative AU)

Ed wakes up with solid ground under his back for the first time in years.

~

(There are definitely patterns and I will continue to ignore them all and write the same five kinds of opening lines to many very different fics 😂)

I never know who to tag for these so throwing it wide open to anyone who'd like to play ❤️

[damien-mlm]

Dead Man Walking (Angst, Dark!Red)

WARNING: PURE ANGST, BLEAK AND HOPELESS ALMOST ALL THE WAY THROUGH. Alcohol poisoning. Suicide attempt. Hallucinations, or perhaps not.

this happens immediately after Mama, and during Darrell's visit to Scarlet.

Darrell belongs to @bluecoolr, Skulk is @probably-a-plant-thing's, and Scarlet is by @kalid-raven

Once he was sure that Darrell was asleep, he stepped out of the bed once again.

He had managed to push the ideation away for so long, so many years.

He couldn't do it anymore. He was weak again. 

She never left his mind, she was always there, calling for him.

Singing sweet lullabies when he felt so, so alone.

She had abandoned him too soon. But she never really left.

She was there, standing beside him as he cried, her casket being lowered into the ground.

She was there, looking from over his father's shoulder as he administered his bi-daily sessions of shock therapy.

She was there, encouraging him to keep stabbing, to burn it all down on the night of the hurricane.

"Come home…"

She was there.

She's still here, and she's calling for him.

Calling him back into her arms.

What about Blue? I can't just leave him… what will he do?

"My boy… he doesn't need you. He's got Skulk, remember? And Skulk's got him. They still have each other…"

They still have each other…

"They don't need you… I do."

They don't need me… Nobody here does…

"Come home, my son."

"Darlin', you alright there?" Darrell's sweet voice brought him back to reality. He had been sitting in the dark cold of his living room 'til the sun started to shine. Darrell wrapped a warm comforter around his shoulders.

What would I do without you? 

"Yeah, sorry…" he took Darrell's hand and pressed his lips against it softly. 

God, I'm such a fool.

He made a cup of coffee and heated up a cornbread muffin for Darrell in the toaster oven.

"You're not gonna eat?" 

"Not hungry, hun" he said as he opened the door and sat on the porch, lighting up a cigarette for himself.

He didn't notice the way Darrell was looking at him.

He looked into nothingness as his cigarette burned. His mind felt foggy and clouded.

"You've changed since the last time I saw you."

I know, mama. I'm more like myself now.

"But you had such pretty hair before..."

I like red...

"Do you, really?"

...

I... I don't know... It just stuck with me, I guess...

Red was all he could see, always. Red, blinding and all-consuming.

I can't forget about it, mama. I can't.

Why did you have to go? Why did you leave me with him?

But there was no answer.

He tried to take a drag of his cig, only to realize it had burned entirely.

His face felt cold and numb.

Darrell's hand on his shoulder startled him more than it should've, he gasped and jumped slightly at the touch.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare ya" he said softly, his chest stinging at the fact he made Red, of all people, jump in fear.

"That's fine, sugar. I was too deep in thought..." Red trailed off as he saw Darrell was already fully dressed and had his keychain in his left hand "You're going to see her?"

"Yes Sir, I know she can help us, we need to hide, lie low for a while... Are you sure you'll be alright by yourself?" Darrell asked, stroking Red's sunken and cold cheek with his free hand.

'Don't worry about me, I'll be okay" he answered as he leaned into Darrell's warm, gentle touch.

He doesn't need more problems, not now.

Once Darrell was gone on his way to Scarlet, Red decided to take a small trip to town.

He didn't bother looking into Germaine's eyes, or even her face, as he waited for her to ring the black hair dye, the pair of scissors and the shaving razor blade spare replacement.

"Ya going back to the natural look?" she asked curiously.

"Huh?" 

"Oh, it's just, I can see your roots" she said sheepishly as she pointed at her own scalp.

"Ah... Yeah. Red's worn out, I guess" he answered as he handed her a 100 bill, much to her shock.

"Oh, I don't think-"

"Keep the change for yourself, hun. I won't be needin' it" he said before snatching the items he had bought, throwing them in his backpack and storming out.

The bar was next, Neil's eyes went the size of dinner plates when Red slammed the money on the counter.

"I'm paying my tab off, and I'm taking two bottles of your strongest bourbon" he said without looking up.

"My boy, you know damn well this will cover all that and more, twice over..." the old bar owner trailed off as he grabbed two bottles from the top shelf, then placed them between them, without letting go of them. Red was just about to grab the bottles when Neil pulled them back just a smidge, calling for his attention, "What are you gonna do, Damon?" 

Red's eyes shot up and met Neil's at the mention of his true name. The old man's stare was unwavering, yet full of worry.

"I'm fine, Neil. You'll hear of me again soon." he promised, giving the old man a faint smile as he gently placed the pair of bottles inside his backpack.

Neil watched him exit the bar with his head down, hunched over.

Red's last stop around town was the diner, his boss had told him to take the day off, since he was so out of it that almost caused a grease fire the last time he clocked in.

He entered through the front and greeted the server kindly, she smiled at him and he handed her a small note, intended for the owner. 

That's the last of them.

He haphazardly chopped the longer parts of his hair off before dying it all black, he was sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, anxiously chipping away at his nail polish til his nails were clean, waiting for the dye to do its work.

Red was almost on autopilot, he soon ran out of polish to scrape away at, his sight was blurry and dazed. Almost as if he was looking at his point of view from a screen. Not his own eyes. Everything was out of focus, distant. Fake even, it all felt like plastic, like a big set full of props.

"It looks awfully similar, doesn't it?"

The red chips of polish contrasted with the white tiled floor, and under his unfocused sight they looked liquid.

Liquid red staining the white tiled floors again.

He nearly jumped out of his skin

I can't get the image out of my mind…

"I know, my child. But once you are with me, you won't have to remember it ever again. I promise"

I'm scared, mama. What if dad is there?

A pause.

Mama?

"He can't get to you, my child. Come to me, I'll protect you."

No, mama. I'll protect you.

"Now you look more like the last time I saw you. I missed this look on you"

Once his hair was clean he stared at the mirror, for how long, it's unclear

Last time he had his hair black and this short was back before…

He closed his eyes, thinking of that beautiful night, the night they were back home from Ambrose.

It feels strange to me… I know it's my natural color, but it doesn't feel like me entirely…

Now that I think of it, I don't remember the last time I truly felt like myself.

That was it, that was my peak.

It all seemed to go downhill from there, rolling down violently. Hitting rocks and being scratched by thorny bushes on his way. 

At the end of the hill, there wasn't land. There was a chasm. An infinite fall into darkness, and he was rapidly approaching the edge.

He never had the chance to mourn, to let it out, to let himself just be. He had been stuck in survival mode for as long as he could remember, and the moment he let his guard down, the moment he first felt peace, it all came down on him at once.

"Come into my arms, my love. I'll never let you hurt again"

It seemed like the perfect solution. No more pain, no more nightmares, no more…

Darrell…

"He'll be fine. He doesn't need you."

Skulk can take care of him, they can care for each other… I don't want to abandon them, though…

"It'll be a weight off their shoulders."

What?

"Skulk can take care of himself, he's agile and good at hiding. Darrell has enough trouble in his hands right now. None of them have the time for you."

…

"None of them have the energy to care for a deteriorating alcoholic."

And as if to give her reason, he sat down on the toilet again and took a long swing of the bourbon he had bought.

Damn it, Neil. Shouldn't have wasted your best tasting shit on me…

Several gulps per swing, 4 swings and the first bottle was empty. Heat traveled down his esophagus and into his stomach. The first thing that has gone in there since last night's single cornbread muffin.

I can't just leave without a word…

He stood rapidly, and whiplash hit him like a truck. His head spinning, his hands reaching for the sink in order not to fall. 

I guess liquor hits faster when you're in a rush to leave.

He stumbled his way out of the bathroom and into his bedroom, opened his bedside table drawer and ripped a page out of his small notepad.

What do I even say?

He felt awful to leave them like this. 

Darrell, my fallen angel

Skulk, my sweet guardian 

See you on the other side

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…

I had to go

All that was mine is now yours

I love you both

Take care of each other please

He grabbed that old silver letter opener. Used it as a stake to adhere the note on the outside of the bathroom door. A silver nail on a white coffin.

Originally, his plan was to burn it all down, and himself with it. Wipe it all away, just like back then.

He would have to instead drink both bottles and hope that, if blood loss didn't take him, alcohol poisoning would.

But it wouldn't be fair for them.

There is no closure to be found in a pile of ash and a charred corpse.

He was sitting on the bathroom floor and almost entirely through the second bottle when he dug into his wrists with the razor blades. Both of them now have a vertical opening.

Red, warm, slick and slippery. 

A little too slippery, perhaps, he was already weak, but now the slick didn't let him hold onto the bottle no more.

He lied back, too tired and drowsy to sit up straight. Red pooling around him, pouring from his wrists.

Mama, I'm on my way.

But mama wasn't there.

He was, looming and towering over him. Looking down with a crooked smile.

Damon's breath got caught in his throat, his eyes burning with hot tears. Pure, unadulterated fear coming over him.

Everything around them was on fire, even Dr. Herring himself. 

Damon couldn't move, he could do nothing but watch and silently weep as the sinister burning man grabbed him by the ankles, setting them on fire. 

"You don't know how long I've waited for this moment. Now you'll burn with me, forever."

He was being dragged to hell.

And he could do nothing but beg silently.

Help me, please.

He felt his father's nails dig into the flesh of his ankles.

I'm sorry, I take it back! I don't wanna go, please!

He could hear the screaming and wailing of tortured souls, lost to the flames forever.

Help me!

"You're mine"

PLEASE!!!

The door swung open with such force, a being bathed in blinding golden light coming through it.

Everything was white and gold. Suddenly soft and warm.

An angel kneeling over him.

His angel.

He felt tears fall on his cheeks, raining down on him from above.

Even in such pain, he was beautiful.

Peace washed over him, and he let himself go.

Darrell's distant voice and visage fading to black.

A/N: here I go, just pouring a bucket of gasoline on the dumpster fire that is our boys' poor lives

Taglist: @rottent33th @slaasherslut @the-pinstriped-hood @texaschainsawslvt @angxlslasher @allthingsblood @ajarofpickledtears @mr-trick

[misskittyhart]

No where is home.

The red skies bled their crimson glow across the dark city skyline. The distant sounds of screams, howls, laughter, and gunfire was always a constant sound track. Noisy, cacophonous, almost deafening to the point of numbing the senses. It was always like this. Sinners causing troubles. Violence, theft, murder and so much more. It ran through the streets rampant like a plague.

No one was down here because they were good. Of course this place was the devil’s playground. Cursed, gnarled, twisted like briar brambles in the darkest part of the wood. There she walked, the little red headed fox. Keeping a steady, brisk pace. Her tail flicked, ears high, perked and listening. Always on alert, ready to fight if need be.

Being a petite, pretty little thing often brought danger with it. It was a common occurrence that she would have to defend herself. There was a large twelve inch hunting knife on her thigh, that would deter anyone from trying to mess with her.

It was another lonely, quiet night for her. She had just finished her shift singing at the Black Dahlia. Getting on that stage reminded her of her hay day in the 1920s singing in New Orleans at the Silver Magnolia. Those golden days seemed so far away now. She made it to her apartment building, and quickly made it inside.

No one would greet her. No friends to call. No lover to hold her. She spent a solitary, and painfully lonely after life. It still felt the knife was buried deep into her breast. Twisted. Pain hurting her so badly. It was one of those nights. One of the ones that stung like salt into the open wounds in her heart.

The door opened with a little creaking sound as she went inside her home. Her little box that held her current life. So often she moved around. The fear her abusive ex husband would find her, was a looming shadow. That’s why she lived this life of solitary pain. Afraid if she found a glimmer of happiness with someone, then they would be in danger of being harmed by the man who ended her life.

Kitty moved to the kitchen. Pulling down a bottle of whiskey from one of the shelves, she poured three fingers. She knocked it back feeling the sharp sting in her throat as it warmed its way into her body. Her eyes closed. Not enough, she needed more tonight.

She took the bottle, and crystal glass to the living room. Sitting on the plush green couch she flicked the tv on. Vox’s face flickering across it as he was hosting another late night show. He was a fascinating man to her. A showman. She always liked people in entertainment, they were like stars. Bright, warm and inviting.

She drank more whiskey. Until her vision began to blur. Then her cheeks felt wet. Delicate, clawed finger tips touched her face lightly. She sniffled. She wasn’t sure when she started to cry, but it came over her like a tidal wave. Drowning. Pain tearing through the shreds of her briar wrapped heart. She was sobbing. Curled up on her plush velvet couch, her fluffy fox ears pinned back, tail tucked. She clung to a pillow, sobbing into it. Seeking the comfort of touch, needing to be held. It had been decades since she let any one in. Then she ran. Scared.

Her throat felt raw as the lump settled there. She sobbed, til her small body trembled. That voice from the tv was the only company in her apartment.

She was so horridly alone.

Drowning in whiskey.

[oc-cinematic-universe]

!! 20 and 21 for Reverie and character(s) of your choice, 1 and 15 for Amadeo and Aiden, and 11 and 27 for Joe and character(s) of your choice!!

HEHEHEHE YAYYYY THANK YOU VERY GOOD CHOICES some answers under the cut cause this got long

20. What is their best memory together? Reverie and Viorel

Viorel doesn't remember anymore, but Reverie did pick their name because of him. He had so many reveries he'd dream about out loud to them. They talked so much together about what they'd do next, where they'd go, what routes of the game they'd try, what they'd do when they got out. Reverie holds these memories on a pedestal so tall they'll never reach it again

21. What is their worst memory together? Reverie and Viorel

The starting cutscene of the game. Viorel always forgets it 2 seconds after it finishes. Reverie restarts the game and every single time they have to watch him leave them again. They watch him forget them again. They've grown pretty numb to the rest of the cutscene (Vidette dying is rough but. whatever. she comes back every time they just gotta wait) but watching Viorel leave over and over, after getting to experience him remembering them for just a moment before it all goes wrong... still manages to sting

1. How did they meet? Amedeo and Aiden

They met at the first official meeting of the gamer club! Just about a year before the story of In a Manor of Speaking takes place! Amedeo did try to properly meet them and hang out that day but they were kinda not in the mood and busy chatting with the people they Did know, so they didn't really do much together til a couple meetings in. Aiden thought he was a lil obnoxious but they could handle him in small doses and didn't really have a problem with him. Amedeo thought of them the same way he thought of everyone, that they were the coolest person on the planet and he needs to attach himself to them forever right the fuck now

15. Do they trust each other? Why or why not? Amedeo and Aiden

The fucked up thing is they do. By all accounts they really fucking shouldn't. Amedeo literally killed Aiden! But time passes and things change a lot. Amedeo stayed in Aiden's manor for a while (Eden had to beg Aiden to let him stay but they can't say no to her) and he. Was clearly trying to do better? Amedeo watches over the manor while they're gone and it ends up fine. He doesn't obsessively stalk anyone anymore, he's trying very hard to understand and respect boundaries, he makes mistakes but he sure is trying.

During arc 5, when Eden isn't really at home anymore, and Aiden's realizing Viorel doesn't care about them the way they need, and they have no one else to hang out with without feeling like shit, they spend a Lot of time at Amedeo and Kazooie's apartment. And it's so nice. It's so nice to just have normal conversations with people who actually get what they're going through. And Amedeo is so relieved Aiden's willing to just hang out despite everything. I cannot say they're close friends but they do definitely care about and trust each other

11. Does one act as a narrative foil to the other? How so? Joe and Theron

*shaking so fast it makes an audible sound* Haha yeah! They end up in some very similar positions and their reactions are... well. They're the same but they're so vastly different. God this is hard to talk about without spoilers, I really can't get into it too hard, but the way they contrast each other makes me nuts. I fucking wish I could've let them actually meet under better circumstances in the comic. They only get to meet the 1 time, and it doesn't last very long. If they'd just.... if they'd gotten time to talk I think they both would've had some Realizations about themselves

27. How far would they go for each other? Would they risk their own lives for each other? Joe and Dara

They would destroy themselves if it somehow meant the other would be ok. They would let the other kill them if it was for the better. They fucking wish there was an opportunity to sacrifice themselves for each other. They keep trying to fucking make opportunities to sacrifice themselves for each other like a pair of idiots. They are letting themselves rot from the inside out for no fucking reason because they've managed to convince themselves the other will be better off for it. They're obsessed with each other and they need to fucking stop before the quencies get them

[elkenbulwark]

@doighnadair cont.

Swiftly, Canta was helping the other into the makeshift dwelling of the barn in the camp that nobody seemed to use. "Birvor!" They exclaimed before settling him on one of the unused hay stacks. " How the hells did this happen?" Canta snapped, as they began cleaning around the wound, making sure to stabilize the arrow. "Here, I'm gonna leave in for a moment. We don't want to yank it out." They shook their head, out of everyone in the camp, it seemed the other half-orc got into the most trouble. "Right-" Canta snapped in a particular rhythm, making the root directly under roll towards them, they dug through their bag to find a neat roll of scalpels and fresh lyre strings. "Ya shouldn't go pickin' so many fights, and before ya start, I know ya probably didn't mean to. Does it ever cross that thick skull of yours that people care about ya?" Canta took a Sichuan berry from their side pouch and began applying it around the arrow. "This'll numb the area, usually mam would use it when we had to get near the gums of our tusks. Good for teethin' babs too." As they continue numbing the would, Canta narrow at him. " It's becomin' a habit of ye havin' to get stitched up, I don't mind playin' nurse but please, stop bein' so reckless. I'll be right cross If Withers has to drag ya back from oblivion."

With a deep grimace, he allowed the other half-orc to guide him onto the hay bed, keeping a firm grip on the arrow all the while. Though it was lodged in fairly well, his palm was soaked through and blood dripped down his wrist and forearm from where he'd been twisting the projectile in place - a petty attempt at keeping his rage alive whilst dealing with a certain someone-...well...someones now. He ground the tips of his tusks into his upper lip at the thought, though Canta's scolding wasn't exactly helping matters either. He almost wished they'd just rip it out without a single numbing attempt as long as they spared him the fussing and the fury.

"Hells if I know..." He grumbled through gritted teeth, grinding them in place while Canta dug about in their bag. "Standard 'I raged' behavior-?" If only that were true and he couldn't actually recall what happened. But the sting of the arrow held nothing over him over that firmly issued elvish word that had dropped him upon his back and rendered him immobile and trapped in a twitching mess of tangled limbs and stunned silence. His eyes dropped low at the recollection and he remained silent by their side until he felt the sting of a berry's guts digging around the arrow's entry point.

"...actually somethin' fer the growin' pains, isit?" He shook his head, eyes slowly rising to meet theirs, spent looking as they were. "Think I dealts with'em by just slammin' a door as long as I wanted- til I was tuckered out to sleep through'em." Perhaps he would have done the same for the arrow as well had he not bumped into Canta on his way to bleed in the barn. Shoulders furrowing forward, he succumbed to the dawning exhaustion of the tiresome ordeal and rested his forehead against their shoulder as they worked. "Wouldja? Well in't that just the sweetest thing I bout heard tonight..."

[donekindonut]

I’m going to get sent back I’m going to fall back relapse It’s not tangible it’s not something I can hold onto anymore I can’t hold onto much

a carnival game sit on this chair hold on tight as possible see how long you can last, the stinging the vibration the way my fingers numbed and all that was left was grip what the fuck is between my fists, what’s there what’s fucking there

I’m deteriorating I’m fuxkimf disappearing in the most ungraceful way do you know I think of you do u know I think of him and I think of her and I think of every fucking single person

Did u know I am never at peace in my own mind

Acid, changed the chemical wiring of my brain, acid implanted new rules in my bedroom, acid bile slathered on my teeth acid acid acid acid acid

I bit my lips til I bleed to keep my eyes open, I laid on the ground

Everyone knows and no one is going to step in no one has a say no one can do anything

No one

It’s my brain

my mind

My rancid thoughts

Make believe I’m in love

I’m not in love

He’s not in love

no one gives a single flying fuck