#but in my head; everything is always so tangled. I am such a damaged thing . aesthetic

[betterdcyz]

Adam Parrish Edits ( re-post )

[bullet-prooflove]

Can you do?:

24.You knew my past and begged me to try to love again, because it'd end different this time

With Dean Archer please

Tagging: @kmc1989 @mandy426 @mysticcandymiracle @sweetdaytimedreams @cosmic-psychickitty

The first time Dean tells you he loves you, you break things off.

You do it because this whirlwind romance is too good to be true.

Dean is the first man you’ve dated since you caught your ex-husband fucking your best friend in the ass on a sheepskin rug, and you still hear Justin’s voice ringing in your head, telling you it was all your fault.

You weren’t pretty enough, adventurous enough. You’re too unstable.

You think a man like Archer will put up with you Isobel? Justin had asked you when he’d found out about you and Dean through the Chicago Med grapevine. Have you even told him the truth about those scars?

No you haven’t and the moment you do…

Yea, Dean Archer is going to run as far away from you as possible.

So you leave him first. You leave him standing in the doorway of his apartment looking like someone has slapped him right across the face.

It’s a couple of days later that there’s a knock on your door. You’ve just come back from a run, your hair is pulled back into a ponytail and you’re wearing a Frankie Says Relax tank top over black running leggings.

You don’t expect it to be Dean, you don’t expect to see the softness in his eyes as he leans against the doorframe and asks to come in. It turns out Justin couldn’t keep his mouth shut, he just had to tell Dean how much of a bullet he’d dodged.

“So now you know everything.” You say quietly as you sit on the sofa with your palms pressed together between your thighs. “You know how damaged I am and I-”

“Isobel…” Dean interrupts you, his hand slipping into yours, clasping it tightly. “You aren’t damaged, you aren’t broken, you’re just a person who went through some really messed up stuff, stuff that would knock anyone down. The important thing is you got back up and you keep getting back up. I’m proud of you for that, I’m in awe of your strength, your perseverance. Take it from me it’s not an easy thing to do.”

He tells you about his PTSD then, about the nights he would wake up in a cold sweat, the flashbacks he’d have, the sensation of dread that would creep through his bones. It had been bad a few years ago, so bad he’d started seeing Doctor Charles. He’s better now, but sometimes it rears it’s head and those are the days he feels like he’s damaged, that maybe he’s a little broken.

“But you’re not.” You tell him urgently, your fingertips brushing over his grizzled features. “I promise you, you’re not.”

“And neither are you.” He reminds you, his hand clasping yours to his cheek, his lips brushing over your palm. “Isobel, what we have it’s real, it’s special and I don’t think we should let Justin sabotage that just because he can’t stand to see you happy.”

It dawns on you then the vindictiveness of your ex-husband. Justin has always known what buttons to press to keep you cowed, to bully you, to hurt you and this is just another way of him doing that, of making you feel like you don’t deserve good things.

When you look into Dean’s eyes, you know that you do. You know that you deserve his love, his passion, his heart and that’s why you kiss him, why you undress him, why you make love to him on the couch, his hands running through your hair as you say his name.

“So…” He says in the aftermath, his fingers combing lightly through your hair. The two of you are tangled up in one another, the blanket from the back of the couch draped over your bare hips. “We’re telling Justin to go fuck himself tomorrow right?”

“Yes Dean.” You whisper as you nuzzle in closer. “We most certainly are.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[eternalchemy]

anyway Adam Parrish. you were born in hell, you're used to it. adam had fracture lines all over him. he had not known to be born afraid, but he'd learned. adam was not always alone, but he was lonesome. but in my head, everything is always so tangled. i am such a damaged thing. sometimes ronan thought adam was so used to the right way being painful that he doubted any path that didn't come with agony. anger snarled in him, instantly owning him. it was a binary emotion in the parrishes. i am unknowable, ronan lynch. he needed a reset button. just push the reset button on adam parrish and start him again. adam had always been the most negative voice in his own head. if he had no one to wrap their arms around him when he was sad, could he be forgiven for letting his anger lead him? adam parrish, army of one. what a lie unknowable was. the only person who didn't know adam parrish was himself. what do you want? to feel awake when my eyes are open. he'd never escape, not really. too much monster blood in him. i might as well be the sacrifice. i'm ruined. adam pronounced love very carefully, as if it were an unfamiliar element on the periodic table. i made this fake version of me, and i was wide awake when i did it. he was good at depriving himself in the now, in order to have something better in the later. i miss knowing where i was going. for adam, it was what it always was. a fight between adam and himself, between adam and the world. Yeah. Adam Parrish.

[captain-mj]

I saw you reblogged the Pain God Soap x Ghost oneshot recently, and I don’t know if this means you still have interest in it, but if it does,

It’s one of my favorite pieces of writing you’ve done (what can I say, I’m a sucker for overwhelming someone with artificial pleasure ;) ) and if you ever wanted to do a sequel I’d treasure it too <3

I ended up finding it as I was trying to find another thing I had written and i reread all of it. It's also one of my favorites and I'd be more than happy to write a sequel!

(Also I have another thing with forced/artificial pleasure if you or anyone else is interested. Just haven’t decided if it’ll be to Soap or Ghost so if you send an ask specify)

Ghost felt Soap's hands tracing down his spine. Over the past few days he had adjusted more to everything. The improbabilities and broken laws of physics had become normal at some point. He buried his face in the pillows to pretend to be asleep a little longer.

Part of him had begun to crave Soap's touch. In life, he could never stand it but here, everything was so different with him.

"Simon." He purred at him. "I can hear your heartbeat."

Ghost groaned and turned to him. "I dislike that you can do that. Does my privacy mean nothing to you?"

"What privacy?"

Ghost scoffed and shook his head before rolling on his back. He smiled as Soap started to nip and bite at his throat. "You're like a dog."

"If you want, I can bark."

Ghost laughed softly before moaning softly when he got a particularly hard bite. Soap pulled back and looked down at him, bumping their noses together. "God your laugh is lovely."

"Stop it, Soap." He pushed him back before pulling him back down to kiss him. There was a certain power under Soap's skin. Hard muscles that hummed with something unnatural. "I have questions."

Soap whined and kissed down his chest. "So early? Does your mind ever stop working?"

Ghost almost let it slip that Soap was very good at turning his mind off, but instead he spread his legs a bit so Soap could work more comfortably. "Soap, I don't like being at a disadvantage. You're good in bed and a god and that's all I know."

"And I love you."

And you love me." Ghost added softly. His fingers tangled into the sheets as Soap peppered kisses against his stomach. "I deserve more than that."

Soap looked hesitant. "Simon... please can we put this off?"

"No."

"Ask away." He looked weary as he laid his head on Ghost's chest, feeling his heartbeat. It was so strong he could feel it in his fingertips.

Ghost tugged Soap's hair. "The haircut..."

"Past few decades. Saw it came back in style from the vikings."

"I see. And how old are you?"

Soap didn't answer for a while but soon the ceiling started to fade again. At first into Ghost's stars and then into something else. They spun around and around until they were were ancient stars. "I was born when humanity was still considered a different species. A child prayed to me."

Something grew around the edges of the roof, branches and leaves and dozens of things. "Their father was cruel. Had a habit of viciously beating them when he was upset."

"It must've been difficult for you." Ghost muttered.

"Aye. Though I wasn't always useless. Back then, with a child that believed in me so strongly, I hurt him. I hurt him badly. Until the entire forest had bits of flesh from him. Unfortunately I learned that seeing your father be brutally murdered by a mere concept is very damaging."

Ghost laughed and he could feel Soap's smile. "Yes. In retrospect, that should've been obvious but I was young. Just born technically." He sat up. "I am a monster. I know this. I hope you don't fear me, though I know you likely do. You're used to feeling powerless. It's something you hate."

Ghost winced as Soap pressed into those old wounds but he stayed silent as Soap continued.

"You wish you could overpower me. It scares you that I can. That you don't have a chance against me. I've never experienced that, but i can imagine it's terrible." Soap sighed. "I'm sure you also wish I couldn't control you so easily."

"You don't control me."

Soap stared at him. "I do. In a way. I wish there was something I could do. Some power I could give you. A way to hurt me and kill me. But there is none that I know of. You have to trust me."

Ghost swallowed. "I'm working on it. You have been very nice so far."

Soap grinned and kissed Ghost's hand, fluttering his eyes. "Now. May I please please service you?"

"You're horribly horny for a god of something so vile."

"Aye. I have to get my pleasure from somewhere. If I can't get it from my work..." His fingers trailed up his inner thigh. "That just leaves you."

"One more question."

"Simon..." Soap sighed but got settled back down to listen.

"What can I do to make it better for you? I don't like just laying here."

Soap paused at that, seeming genuinely surprised. "Well... I would... like to try something. You'd still be laying there, but I'd like to restrain you."

Ghost considered it. It didn't change much, did it? Soap had pinned him down and Ghost could move him about as much as he could open the door. "If that's what you'd like to do."

Soap looked excited as he moved Ghost how he wanted. He kissed his wrists as he wrapped rope around his wrists. The rope was the roughest thing he had touched since he'd been there. It felt... nice. A nice juxtaposition. Soap never let him feel any pain or discomfort and after so long of only feeling pleasure, it felt like his brain had been rewired.

Ghost didn't mention it, planning to talk later. Instead he felt his brain simply melt as Soap's fingers worked him open. He stopped being able to think. If he was a little more cognizant, he'd wonder if Soap was doing this to him. Or more, what exactly he was doing to him. It was like all that existed was the sensations of the rope and those fucking fingers.

He built up nice and slow and his orgasm washed over him, body trembling as he twisted his wrists hard to feel the rope burn against him.

"Soap. So-"

"Johnny." He whispered softly to him.

Simon sighed softly. "Johnny. Don't numb me. Let me feel it."

Johnny bit his lip but nodded and slowly pushed into him.

Big.

Fuck he felt so big.

The stretch, the burn, the entire feeling. It hurt, but it was so good that Ghost could barely stand it.

Embarrassingly, he started to babble about it. How Johnny really did know everything about him. How he could barely think when he was doing this.

He wailed when he started to fuck him hard, letting, no forcing, Ghost to just feel everything. Two giant extremes burning through him until he felt like he'd be ripped apart but he'd enjoy it.

Ghost came hard and tried desperately to get a kiss. Soap teases him for only a second before giving it to him. The overstimulation started to make it too much and Soap just... took it away. Suppressing the feeling but nothing else. The intensity and the realization it would end only when Soap allowed washed over him and Ghost had never felt more turned on.

There was no telling how long he sat there. He'd occasionally try to twist his hips or clench and, a bit like Soap was punishing him for the effort, he'd feel the overstimulation and how much this was wrecking him.

Eventually, Soap after an ungodly amount of orgasms decided he was done. Ghost felt utterly braindead as he laid there. The moment the suppression left him, he was a shaking, trembling mess. He tried to pull himself together but he couldn't.

Soap kissed him softly and held him close, letting Ghost fall to pieces for a while.

"Johnny"

"Simon."

Ghost groaned and closed his eyes tight. "I think that was the best you've ever done. It was so good." He leaned into him, feeling his legs shake. "Fucking hell."

Soap hummed softly and pulled him closer. "You're a good boy. I don't think I'll ever get tired of making love to you."

"Making love huh?"

"Only way I describe what I do with you."

Ghost huffed softly but sleep was clawing at him and he ended up falling asleep.

[kazbiter]

"adam parrish was a miracle of moving parts, a study in survival" in case u forgot!!!! "what do you want adam to feel awake when my eyes are open" let's consider!!! "who has he ever had to love him, ever?" even!!! "I know you are not the same as him but in my head everything is always so tangled I am such a damaged thing" as well!!! "he was not robert parrish but he forgave past adam for being afraid of the possibility" in fact!! "rags to riches isn't a story anyone wants to hear until after it's done" if you'll remember!!! "it was only because he believed he had saved himself that he could imagine saving someone else" if u even care!!!

[macadoodlewrites]

Dangerous Love - Part Twenty-Two (Rafe Cameron x Routledge!Reader)

Summary: Avery Routledge is John B's cousin, and she has just moved to the OBX - just in time for a treasure hunt. But with John B keeping secrets in order to protect her, he pushes her into the arms of the Kook King. She becomes tangled with none other than Rafe Cameron, but will she realise how damaged he is before it is too late, or will he ruin her before she can get away?

Warnings: death, smut, dub-con, non-con, toxic behaviour, abuse, kidnapping

Ships: Rafe Cameron x OC, minor!JJ x OC

I do put trigger warnings at the beginning of each chapter, but please read them again as there will be some triggering content in this chapter.

Main Masterlist

Dangerous Love Masterlist

Word Count: 2.5k

I woke up and the side of my head was throbbing, as if I had walked into something hard forcefully. I rolled over, reaching for my phone before opening my eyes and realising that I didn't recognise where I was.

It was a bedroom, larger than my own at The Chateau, with cream walls and a matching carpet. All of the furniture was dark wood, including a wardrobe, chest of drawers, bedside tables, writing desk and chair. On the desk was a stack of books, including some of my personal favourites. There were no windows.

I sat up quickly, ignoring the pounding in the side of my head as I did so. Where was I?

And then it came rushing back. The airstrip, Peterkin's death, Rafe and Ward threatening to shoot John B, but thankfully he had gotten away. I hope that he was with JJ, Pope and Kiara.

But none of these thoughts answered my question.

But then my answer walked through the door.

I heard a sliding lock and then a key in a second lock before the door creaked open, and in walked Rafe. He closed the door behind him, then locked it, placing a silver key in his pocket.

"Rafe," I whispered. I shimmied back on the bed, pressing myself against the headboard, tucking my legs up to my body. He watched my movements, looking down at me through his long golden eyelashes.

"Don't be afraid, Avery. You're safe here."

"And where is here?"

He walked over to me and sat at the end of the bed, placing his hand on the bed. His signet ring glinted off the warm light hanging from the ceiling. "You're at my house. This is one of the bedrooms in the basement of the mansion."

I paled, suddenly feeling sick. "And why am I here?"

He shifted along towards me, an odd smile on his handsome face. "Because you love me. You admitted it and I knew you weren't lying. I don't care if you only said it in the moment to save your cousin's life. I knew that you weren't lying. I know you too well, sweetheart."

"It's not true," I whispered, my voice hoarse. The pounding in my head wasn't going away. No surprise there. Ward was a strong man and his anger against me letting John B get away was immense.

"See, the thing is, Avery, I know that it is. I might have acted a little hastily yesterday, but I know that you'll forgive me."

“And how do you know that, Rafe? After everything that you’ve done?”

He chucked a low laugh, one that used to bring a smile to my face. “You said so yourself. You said you could forgive me for it all if I let your cousin go, and I did. I knew that you were saying whatever you could to get me to spare him, but I also knew that you meant it. I know you too we’ll. You’re too open with your emotions, always wearing your heart on your sleeve. And you told me everything with how you were looking at me back on the air strip. I knew you were scared, but I could still see your love for me in there.”

He had read me like an open book. It was like every thought in my head was on show to him, no matter how much I wanted to try to hide it from him. I shook my head at him.

“No,” I sobbed. “Rafe, please let me go.”

He moved even closer to me, closing the distance between us on the mattress.

“And now I just how much you love me, it only makes me want to protect you more. My father is angry at you and me for letting John B go, but he can see how having you here will work to our advantage.”

I scoffed at him. “I’m your insurance again?”

A small nod. “That’s how my dad sees you. You know that I think of you as so much more than that.”

“And what happens when John B goes to the cops and tells them everything? That you murdered Sheriff Peterkin? I will be useless to you and your dad.”

I waited for him to lash out at me. To hit me again. But he only reached over and wrapped one slim-fingered hand around my ankle, tugging my leg away from its curled up position against my body.

“I think you hit your head a little too hard, sweetheart. I didn’t kill Peterkin. John B did.”

I stared at him, open mouthed and gaping. And then I slapped his hand away harshly and bolted from the bed.

“How dare you,” I breathed. “How dare you try to pin this on him. He is innocent. You are a murderer.” He stood up also, hands clenched at his sides and I remembered the words he had said before I had passed out. No, Dad. I have a plan, okay? We will be fine. “It was your idea, wasn’t it? You’re the reason that that your father will blame John B.”

He shrugged, taking slow steps towards me. “My father is a smart man. He would have come up with the idea eventually, without my help.”

“You said you would spare his life.”

“And I did-“

“No you didn’t!” I screamed, rushing at him and slamming my fists against his solid chest. “They will arrest him and he will be locked up for the rest of his life! Peterkin was the sheriff! The cops will give him the death penalty if they get the chance!”

Rafe let me continue hitting him for a moment longer before one hand came up and wrapped itself around my wrists and the other placed itself on my chest, just below my throat. “I didn’t kill him. I did as you asked. My hands are entirely clean.”

“You are a murderer and a monster! How could I have ever thought that I loved you?”

He snapped. I’d been expecting it but it somehow still took me by surprise. He spun us around and shoved me away from him, my body flying into the bed. He slid himself over me, holding me down.

“Let’s get this straight, sweetheart. My father wanted to dispose of you - similarly to what your own mother wanted to do. Ironic, right? The only reason that you are here and safe is because I wish it. So do not piss me off. Let’s stop with the name-calling, shall we?”

I spat up at him, watching as it landed on his cheek and ran down his skin. He wiped it away, the anger replaced with a terrifyingly blank expression.

“I told you that in confidence, Rafe. How dare you.”

“And I haven’t told anyone else. But you need to know what will happen to you if you don’t have my protection. Everything I am doing is for you. You owe me.”

It was all I could do to bite my tongue, not scream up at him, claw at his face. I would only lose. He was stronger than me, had all of the power over me.

“I don’t owe you shit,” I hissed.

“I think that you do. I think I spared your cousin’s life. I’ve kept your secrets. I’ve done everything for you. So now it’s time for my reward.”

“What-“

He cut me off by gripping both sides of my flannel shirt and ripping it open. The buttons went flying as it flew apart, and my chest, only covered in a lacy blue bra, was bared to him.

“No, no, Rafe, no-“

“We were interrupted yesterday and I’ve been hard just thinking about how I could have taken you on that deck, in front of anyone who might have walked past.” He leaned down, his nose brushing mine. “You should at least appreciate the privacy that I am allowing you-"

So caught up in what Rafe was trying to do, I hadn't heard someone unlock the door and enter the room. But they subtly coughed from behind us - Rafe froze above me, and then turned to look over his shoulder. As he did so, I was allowed a view of who it was. Ward.

He stared at us with those piercing blue eyes with alarm.

"Rafe, what do you think you're doing?" he asked, surprisingly calmly, but I couldn't miss the cold fire in his stare aimed at his son. "Get off of her."

"Get out!" Rafe yelled, involuntarily squeezing the hand around my neck.

"I won't ask you twice, son."

They continued to stare at each other, before Rafe took a deep break and slid off of me. I quickly gathered the remains of my shirt and wrapped them around myself, covering my chest and bra from Ward. Thankfully, he still wasn't looking at me, he only had a hard glare for his son. I sat up, sliding back to the headboard, trying to move away from both of the Cameron men.

"What are you doing here?" Rafe spat. His cheeks were flushed and his hair dishevelled.

"I thought that you would care to know that Sheriff Peterkin is dead."

It was a blow straight through my chest. I'd known - I realised that now - no one bled as much as she did and survived, but I had try tried to hold a little hope. Hope for John B. Hope for myself. I finally noticed the dried blood on his hands. Sheriff Peterkin's blood.

Neither of them were smiling, but I could feel their relief thrumming through the room. If Sheriff Peterkin was dead, there would be no one to contradict their lies. Only my cousin. But who would believe him over Ward Cameron, king of the Kooks?

As if to hone the nail in the coffin, Ward added, "And there is a warrant out for John Booker Routledge. The police department has called in the FBI to assist in their search for him. By nightfall, he will be behind bars for the crime that he commited."

At this I sneered at him. "Who are you kidding, Ward? All three of us were on that airstrip. Don't lie for my benefit. I know what a monster you are. What you and your son did. Rafe killed the Sheriff, and you can lock me up, but the truth will come out. Sarah was there. She saw everything."

The truth was that I didn't know if Sarah Cameron could be trusted. I knew that she cared about John B, but did she care for him enough to turn against her family? I didn't know.

"My daughter will stand with her family, Avery."

I almost believed him, but I saw the way he swallowed heavily. He wasn't sure of Sarah's loyalty either.

"Now what am I going to do with you? I admit, keeping you here will keep your cousin away. For now. This little arrangement can only last for so long."

I couldn't help it - I looked at Rafe. He was glancing between myself and his father, panic taking over his handsome features.

"Dad, what are you talking about-"

"I'm not going to kill her, Rafe. But she can't stay here. Her friends will find a way to look for her."

"What are you suggesting?" Rafe asked, taking a step towards me. I curled further in on myself and watched as he noticed. Watched as he took in my movements.

Ward shook his head. "Nothing yet. But I will think of something. But for now -" he walked towards his son, pointing a finger at his chest - "you will not touch her, Rafe. We have enough problems at the moment without you assaulting her and god forbid, getting her pregnant."

It was like I didn't exist, for the amount of attention Ward was paying me. I couldn't even find it in myself to be grateful to him for his warning to Rafe. I hated him too much. He was dooming my cousin to a death sentence, and me to whatever fate he felt was most suitable.

They stared each other down, blue eyes locked on each other. Finally Rafe, nodded, barely a tilt of his chin. Ward looked him over, then looked at me. His eyes, thankfully, did not travel down to the remains of my shirt.

And then he left, leaving me alone with Rafe once again.

"He won't kill you, Avery."

"No, you're the only murderer here," I spat.

He clenched his fists at his sides, still standing as he was at the side of the bed. This was new. Rafe never tried to control his temper. I had witnessed that first hand on multiple occasions.

"I did what I had to do for my family-"

"And you doomed mine in the process!"

"I'm not going to argue with you, sweetheart. My father won't kill you, but we will figure out what we can do. You're not leaving me. Not again."

"I would never have left you if you hadn't tried to attack me."

"You slept with someone else."

"You attacked me before I ever told you that. Don't try to make excuses."

He had been looking down, taking deep breaths, but he finally looked at me. The flush was gone from his cheeks and his jaw was clenched tightly, but that wasn't what frightened me. No, it was the cold, dead look of his eyes.

"You love me still. And I love you. That will never change. You came to this island, with your fiery opinions and sweet smiles. You were so vulnerable. You needed me to take care of you," he breathed. "None of this would have happened if you had never come to the Outer Banks. All of this is on you."

He started walking towards the door as I sprung up from the bed.

"Are you fucking delusional, Rafe? Ward stole the gold! You shot the Sheriff! You and your father are holding me against my will! None of this is my fault, you psychopath."

He unlocked the door, the set of his shoulders tense. I lunged at him as he opened the door, but he was ready for me. He turned, his hands clasping my wrists before shoving me backwards. I fell to the floor, the remains of my flannel shirt loose and open as I breathed heavily, hatred coursing through me.

"Call me a psychopath or a monster if it makes you feel better. But you are also mine and you are not going anywhere. The rest of your life will be with me, so you better get used to it and stop fighting me. Or things could get very bad for you."

A choked laugh escaped my throat as I stared up at him. "What else could you possibly do to me?"

A cruel smile graced his full lips. "Let's hope you never have to find out.

And then he was gone, leaving me laughing to myself, feeling like I was starting to lose my mind. Rafe Cameron had taken so much from me. And now this. He was trying to blame me for this entire situation.

He was delusional. Crazy. Insane.

I couldn't let him make me that way too.

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[jacksmusesdrv3]

I know I've twisted myself into a goddamn pretzel the past five or so years trying not to be 'too much' and backing off when I am

but

A good deal of why I started the #dr literacy tag is precisely because of this- I am beyond tired and fed up, with the kinds of things that people have ignored and left on my back- whether it's to do with Kokichi, or V3 overall. It's easy to deflect and call me 'delusional', and five years later never even consider the implications of having called me that over what I've been trying to grapple with, much less apologise to me sincerely and genuinely try to understand where I'm coming from and why it's so hard to discuss in the first place- not to mention why it's so easy to make mistakes not least because the way Kodaka plays with themes can be decidedly insensitive (and I was clearly out of my depth with that when I started this blog)

This isn't about all of you. A good number of people here have been wonderful about this, even if they don't understand all too well. But frankly such people are the exception rather than the rule, and the rule is that people don't bother to interrogate their own biases about Kokichi, or really grapple with the way him and V3's narrative might be constructed with bias. And this unwillingness to accept ambiguity and nuance results in some genuinely hurtful behaviour towards people who try to point out that, maybe, not everything was even his fault, or that his character and situation is far more layered than it appears on a first run of the game. Or even a second, or third.

So I'm gonna need people in that camp to swear that you'll do better about this going forward. No really. This situation I've been in didn't come out of nowhere, and while I've beaten the proverbial horse to death that I haven't always been fair or reasonable either, that does not mean I should just back myself into a wall and take the status quo that is 'Tsumugi is telling the truth and Kokichi is just a clown' as a 'fact of canon'. Because there's a very good chance that that might not even be true, and that there's even more tangled messes Kodaka left in the text to unpack that you never even thought of, and that really NEED extra care and nuance to fully understand.

I know you're probably sick of hearing this from me by now. But this is an issue that can never be helped until it's faced head on, and the effect of basically being pathologised over it (due to *checks notes* autism), is seriously damaging- the inability of people to address things as serious issues and themes rather than 'just the pet theory that came out of my nutty head', is something I cannot, on principle, force myself to accept. So please just think about the way you're approaching issues in the future. I will try to do the same.

[irisxstardust]

2 | Shut Up

SUMMARY: You and Ellie used to be friends until one day when she decided she was done. You hadn't spoken to her since and now, five years later, you are given the unfortunate task of going on patrol with the girl. A little argument and one stalker later, you're playing her hero. But is it enough to repair the damage made to your relationship all those years ago?

A/N: i hate it but i dont. also guys sorry if its bad i literally got like disowned while writing this so im sorry if it falls off in the middle i tried lmfao. i also struggled for like a whole day trying to outline this i am so sorry LMFAOO love u anyway

CW: swearing, suggestive language, cliffhanger😇

WC: 2393

"Do you want to talk?"

You stared at her for a minute, completely dumbfounded by the sudden imposition.

"About... you know, everything?" she continued, her own eyes darting around the room looking everywhere but at you.

You stand there still, opening and closing your mouth like a fish out of water.

"It's kind of- um cold out here, if you don't mind so..."

She was tangling her fingers together again and again as you finally opened the door wider and stepped off to the side for her.

"Sorry, sorry," you finally said, letting the door swing shut. "My parents are out right now at work so we can just... talk here." You tried to laugh but it came out broken and shaky.

She nodded, also trying to chuckle lightly about the situation at hand. She took an extra moment and observed you - which made you all the more uncomfortable as you thought of the image of yourself in the mirror from earlier.

You both stood awkwardly in the doorway for a moment, just looking around and breathing heavily.

"I made cookies," you offered, nervously turning toward the kitchen. You walked lightly, almost speeding off to be in a room where Ellie was not.

She followed uncertainly, taking a deep breath as you pulled a chair out at the island for her.

You started speaking as you reached over the sink to open the window, "what do you want to talk about first?"

Ellie paused, eyes scanning the plate of cookies you placed on the table in front of her, "just... you know." She shrugged, resting her elbows on the edge of the table.

"Patrol? The party?" you suggested, trying to spark her memory and get her talking.

If she wanted to talk so bad, you were going to make her start the conversation.

"No, no. Not that. Not yet. I just... feel like I should apologize. Not about that but about that thing I said - a couple years ago. I don't know if you remember it but-"

"I remember."

You remembered it perfectly. You spent every waking minute trying to forget. You never did. No matter what you did to forget her you always remembered by morning. You picked up every possible job available to you in an attempt to at least move on a little - but by nighttime, when you were alone, it was the only thing you had to think about.

She inhaled sharply, "Thought so."

"Why do you want to apologize now?" You moved to sit down in the chair next to hers, brushing your hair back behind your ears. "I mean, isn't it a little late?"

But isn't this what you wanted?

You used to dream of the day that Ellie Williams would stop by your house to apologize - she would always join you in your room and give you a million reasons why, always give you a long, drawn out speech about how sorry she was. However, she would also admit that she was madly in love with you and that she thought of you just as much as you thought of her (which, by now, you thought was absolutely ridiculous, right?).

"It's... complicated," her eyes finally found yours as she paused. "You didn't deserve that. I was just-"

"Scared?"

She hummed, briefly looking down as a small smile tugged at her mouth, "only a little."

You chuckled, reaching for a cookie, "is that all I get? 'I'm sorry, Y/N, I was scared!'"

She laughed too, shaking her head and rubbing her forehead with her fingertips, "what else do you want?"

And you're biting back a suggestive smirk by digging your top teeth into your bottom lip, averting your eyes to the table, "I could think of a few things."

She seemingly picked up on the tone as well because when she responded she was also biting back a grin, "oh really? Like what? Care to show me some examples?"

You began to speak but laughter exploded through the room as you cut yourself off.

"I thought you had ideas, hmm?"

"Is that it, Williams? Because I am about three- no two seconds from kicking you out of my house," you threatened, little laughs laced through your words.

"Yeah, how about don't fucking call me that!" The words are harsh but her tone was playful as you both laughed.

Was it always this easy?

It felt like every time you and Ellie put the past aside - all things considered - you really got along. You made meaningful conversation and you really did enjoy her company. You fell into that same easy rhythm just as you had at the party the night prior; except this time there was no way Cat could interrupt again.

"I'll call you what I want," you finally said, "Williams."

She rolled her eyes at you while biting into a cookie, her eyes lighting up at the taste, "these are really good!"

"Thank you, oh my god," you laughed, wiping cookie crumbs off your hands. "My dad found the recipe in some old apartment a few years ago. They're snicker-doodles and I make them all the time; they're actually my favorite food ever."

That's how you spent the rest of your day; sitting right alongside Ellie, eating cookies, and cracking jokes. You did also get her to delve a little deeper and truly apologize for some of the stuff she said to you.

You were on cloud nine far after Ellie left your house, which prompted you to skip down to Dina's house to tell her all the good news.

"Dina!" you sang as bounced into her house, "I have news!"

You found Dina and Jesse resting on her couch, watching a new movie on the TV.

"Haven't you ever heard of knocking?"

"Sorry, I forgot."

She laughed, "what is so important that you need to come running into my house at four PM on a Monday? Aren't you supposed to be at the daycare helping your mom?"

"No, I didn't feel that good this morning," you sat down on her couch across from her, "but that's not the news."

"What's up?"

You bit your lip excitedly, "I talked to Ellie today."

Dina's expression stayed happy, but Jesse's changed from happiness to something similar to outright shock. "About what?" he asked.

"She just kind of apologized for all that stuff she said-"

"And you accepted it?"

"Yeah, of course. I thought it was nice I..." you trailed off.

Jesse's reaction was certainly not one you were expecting. Sure, he wasn't too excited the last time you'd talked to Ellie but even now? Even after she sought you out and went to your house with the soul purpose of apologizing to you? It still wasn't good enough for him.

"I mean it's not really about you, Jesse. She apologized to me and I accepted it. That should be enough for you."

"It is, Jesse's just being stupid," Dina finally said, smacking Jesse's knee lightly with the back of her hand. "I'm glad you guys talked it out. You talk about anything else after?"

You nodded, eyes still on Jesse's disapproving expression, "oh yeah just... normal stuff. We ate some cookies and stuff and then you know. We talked."

"Its just," all eyes turned to Jesse as he paused, "a little quick, don't you think? Does she really deserve forgiveness or do you just not care because you're head over heels for her?"

"Excuse me?"

"C'mon, we all see it. Right?" He casted a look to Dina looking for reassurance, but found none. "Oh don't tell me you've never thought about it! Hasn't Ellie told you too that-"

"Jesse, stop." The hardness in Dina's voice made Jesse stop completely, his eyes unmoving from hers.

"Hasn't Ellie told you what?" You looked between the pair, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Nothing, Jesse doesn't know what he's talking about," Dina gave Jesse a hard look before she turned back to face you dead on. "Did you want to stay the night? I found an old copy of Jurassic Park on patrol. We're only a couple minutes in if you want to stay."

It was convincing, sure, but Jesse's attitude had turned your stomach and you were no longer interested. The interaction had spoiled your happy mood, making you all the more interested in going home.

"Thanks but... I'll pass. I'll stop by another day to watch it if you want, though."

You bid your goodbyes as quickly as possible, taking a quick peak at the clock before leaving. Five minutes. You talked to Dina for only five minutes. You wanted to stay and talk all about it, you wanted to stay overnight and tell Dina how nice Ellie was; but you didn't. You left after five minutes.

The interaction at Dina's was on your mind for far longer than you would've liked. For a week straight the only thing on your mind was Jesse's words - and Ellie.

You now felt beyond awkward whenever Jesse approached you, and you began to feel the same with Dina. Why couldn't he just be happy for you? You finally got what you wanted after years and it wasn't enough?

The entire situation sat in the front of your brain - like an itch you could never scratch - until Ellie came to you one day as you were leaving the stables.

"Hey, Dina invited me to a party at Tipsy Bison. Are you coming?"

"Oh," that was new. "I didn't know there was a party."

Ellie's face twisted into one full of massive confusion, "she didn't tell you? I figured you were the first to know."

You shook your head, "I- yeah no. Never heard about it."

Ellie hesitated, "well, will you go anyway?"

"Why should I? I mean if Dina doesn't fucking want me there-"

"But I want you there."

You stopped moving completely, turning to face Ellie. "What?"

"I am inviting you to go to that party. With me. Together."

You didn't speak.

"It'll be fun; and if it isn't then we can leave. You and me."

"You and me?"

She nodded, and as you stared into her eyes the distance was no longer there. She stared into you with a certain warmth that had butterflies swirling round and round in your stomach.

"When?"

The party was only a few days away and was particularly late at night. You knew that if Dina had asked you about it you would've immediately said no.

But you couldn't say no when Ellie was looking at you so warm and full of light. It was all you'd wanted since you met her. So you agreed.

You'd spent the remaining days you had until the party to prepare yourself. You didn't dare bring it up to Dina when you met her for patrol the morning of. You didn't dare mention it to Jesse as you briefly conversed with him while putting your horse back. You just didn't mention it.

You tried to forget - but you obviously aren't very good at that - so you ended up passing some time - as you do - with the kids at the daycare.

Ellie met you outside the daycare as you exited, her hands tucked into her pants pocket as she leaned against the wall. She lit up as you walked towards her, her mouth twisting into a grin.

She walked with you on the way to the bar, her arms brushing against yours every now and again.

You anticipated seeing Dina again under the string lights, you anticipated the way she might react. I mean you were friends, you still loved her - so why were you so worried?

Besides, it wasn't really Dina’s problem anyway; Jesse was the one who was so upset about it.

The walk was short, mostly fueled by your anxiety filled speed, and you wasted no time in walking through the doors. Might as well get it over with.

You didn't see Dina for what felt like hours.

You looked for her and Jesse but you didn't find them. So you danced and you drank and you found yourself mostly preoccupied with Ellie. She definitely helped you forget about the anxiety bubbling in the pit of your stomach.

So much so, in fact, that you didn't feel anything but pure joy until you were staring Dina in the face.

“You didn't tell me you were coming!” was the first statement out of her mouth.

“Sorry. I was going to but-”

“I’m glad you came,” Dina smiled, but a certain hardness in her eyes made you second guess the response. “You didn't look too happy at the last party so I didn't want to bother you with another.”

You opened your mouth to speak but she began again.

“Who even managed to drag you here?”

You hesitated, “Ellie.”

Dina began to speak, saying something about how happy she was to hear about your friendship, but you stopped listening.

You sat in a daze for the rest of the night, trying to go back to enjoying yourself but you mostly just questioned yourself. Was there ever any issue with Dina? Why were things so awkward? Was it you?

At some point you lazily trudged off to the bathroom, hoping to just take a quiet breather and recuperate from your thoughts, but the line outside of it was enough to turn you away and send you sneaking off through the doors.

You brushed sticky baby hairs out of your face with your fingers, rubbing your eyes and breathing in deeply. You plopped down onto the ground and leaned against the wall. The streets were barren and dusky, small lamps from inside buildings illuminating the city.

After a few moments the door opened and closed and one very important person walked over to stand beside you.

“Are you feeling okay?” Ellie asked, stuffing her hands into her pockets.

“Yeah. Just a little overwhelmed.”

She hummed, “about what?”

You paused.

“Everything?”

“Everything.”

You slowly stood up, finally looking directly at her.

She had a small smirk on her face as she replied, “we all know you think too much. Stop thinking.”

You laughed, “how am I supposed to stop thinking, Williams?”

“I could think of a few ways.”

You managed to respond with, “Like what?” just as she leaned a little closer to you, her hands reaching out towards you.

“You’ll see.”

[maimeelai]

ANSWERED. // @indigodreames​ ft. an

"in my head, everything is always so tangled. i am such a damaged thing." 

Paw blew out a sharp breath, then he pressed his hands on An’s shoulders and sought his gaze. “Look at me. Do you know what other things are always tangled? Knitwear, boating knots . . . Rapunzel’s hair. They’re all good. Functional. Beautiful, even.” Then he booped An’s nose and his smile widened. “Nong, you can be a lot of things - but you are not damaged. Now, how can I help you with what you’re worried about? Is this about the new line up?”  

[agaymerfry-writing]

Cozy Cabin-A Short Story

"I wish you would leave my life completely," you mutter, driving us to the graveyard. A fitting place for our last meeting, though why chose a grim place I was yet to understand. And why a graveyard so close to your school? Convivence? It didn't matter now. I blankly assumed it was because it was dark, and the sky had not a cloud in it.

We always talked about watching the stars together. I want them to shine without competition, so here we are, wearing all black, though I’m not sure whose clothing is who's. As we cross into the graveyard's garden you ask me the same question that must be on your mind all the time. "Who's gonna be your savior of the week?", handing me a shovel. "Weak?", I shoot back instantly, my mind confused, but my body starts to dig. And dig I did, just to please you.

It was all just to please you.

But the hole was never deep enough, was it dandelion? I was always too close to you, and that's why you neglected me, right? I wasn’t worth the energy? Did you just not have the space to grow?

These thoughts flood my mind as the dirt grew higher, and my arms grew tired of digging, I begin to stargaze, idolizing you in the constellations, for all that you've done for me. Which wasn't much expect my name, Orion. I called for you to look at the pit I dug for two hours. The pit guided by your hand, in my sad, desperate attempt for your genuine care.

But when I realized dirt was falling on me, getting in my throat and weighing me down, I panicked. Clawed at the unstable walls, scared, looking for any way out. I took the first way fate gave me out, but you know this.

I should’ve yelled for a ladder, or just for help, but why should I have believed you bring me something? I saw you moments ago, kicking the dirt onto me, trying to bury me, and my head goes fuzzy.

No, I think to myself, I did yell. I did ask for help. I was brought rope. I stood there confused, but managed to scramble out of that grave through a twisted, rotting, tree root. My hands were damaged from the digging, and the thorns twisting around the roots did not help.

And there you were. And you were there waiting.

Able to help, I’ll never know. Willing too? Not at all.

I stared at you, a flurry of emotions consuming me; confused, anguish, selfishly wanting you to hurt but not baring to do so, though I know the ways in which I climbed out of that hole hurt you. And for hurting you I am sorry, but I needed out of the pit. I still loved you, even after you kicked dirt on me, I know you didn't mean too...

As I grapple with my thoughts and what you had just done, you pull something out from behind your back, have you had it this entire time? A flood of questions came over me, consuming my thoughts-

You handed me a gun.

Loaded with one, singular round.

“Stars die out, do everyone a favor and take yourself out with a bang.”

And just like that, I was shattered. I was chipping, cracks running all along my body, but this? All respect, love, care, compassion, everything I had ever felt for you was gone in a matter of seconds.

Just like that, you were gone. You left me in that graveyard.

As I sat against the tombstone, i held the gun in my hands, staring at it. Wondering why someone I loved would do this to me, tell me to do such a horrible thing, especially when they know I've thought about this before...

Yet suddenly, in the distance, I hear a dog whining. As I slowly scramble to my feet, I make way towards the noise, finding a dog with fur as dark as my thoughts, but eyes, scarred eyes that shine like the stars, no, eyes that shine like mine.

I approach him slowly, not wanting to startle him. Holding out my hand for him to sniff, he turns to run, but can only get a few feet before letting out a whine, and under the moonlight I notice he’s limping. I call out to it, saying I can help it, though I don’t know what I’m doing. But I managed to gain his trust, and under the moon’s light I was able to remove thorns and tangled vines from the dog’s three legs. I called him Karma.

Together, we made our way out of that cursed grave. He lead me to a cabin, something small and out of the way from those who’d hurt us. Together we stayed, and cared for each other, and the world around us, keeping weeds out of our garden.

Until you sent me a letter. How did you get my address? Why are you still trying to contact me? I’ll tell you though, the letters made me laugh, the way your obsessed with me is funny.

“Theres a thousand things i wish i could say to clear the air. but ive told a thousand lies to muddy the water” and “id tell you everything given the chance” are the funniest.

Tell me what? That you didn’t mean to give me a gun? That you liked when I made my hands bleed digging for you? That you’ll change and not abuse me?

Your desperate attempts at getting me back made for great kindling, which is the most I’ve gotten from you, so I suppose a thanks is in order.

But I’ll indulge you and answer your question from that fateful night.

“Who's gonna be your savior of the week?”

No one.

I don’t need a savior, and I don’t need saving.

I just needed help leaving you, realizing digging holes and bleeding wasn’t normal. Only someone sick, twisted, only an abuser who lost their power would think i need saving, that i cant live for myself.

It’s clear to me though, I was the one to bring them light, but they got mad when I burned bright. It matters no more, I live for myself now.

Something did die that night.

Any care I had for you as a person.

And myself. The old version of me who would take your neglect, your abuse.

He is dead and gone. But Riggs?

Riggs shall live on in his place, shining as bright as the stars he once was, but free.

Free from you.

Free to live his life, Karma at his side.

[contrariian]

@publicabsent said: ‘ in my head, everything is always so tangled. i am such a damaged thing. ’

"i don't think you're damaged, annette." scully gently sets a mug of tea in front of the girl before taking the chair opposite, her voice soft. "i think you're a young woman who has been through some traumatizing events. that's not broken. that's human." her partner has his own opinions on this case; scully isn't sure what she thinks, but her gut tells her annette knows something. "it's not unusual that things might be confused. just take your time sorting through it in your mind."

[citizensofeggtonarchived]

"Well, your Uncle certainly sounds interesting. Perhaps once we get a proper treaty and portal system set up you can bring him here for a visit. The country of Flora has many wonderful spots one could visit and some many unique people as well." Vix could say she's been all over Flora herself, though it was mostly on business with the few times her father took everyone on a vacation as even royals need a bit of time to unwind, though it was mainly for family bonding. "Then how about tomorrow? We can have a little spar so you can see how we fight in our world." The fennec wasn't sure how much of a difference there would be, though only one way to find out.

"Oh, it sounds like he thought of everything, though if you wish we can still take a look to see if something went wrong." Vix wasn't going to push Tangle to let them look at it, though if it took her to the wrong place when using it then logically there might be a chance the recall won't work properly as well. "Of course if we do pick up an error I am unsure if we'll be able to fix it, though at least we'll know something is wrong with it." The fennec didn't want to make it seem like they could fix anything wrong with it as it was tech from another world, though at the very least they'd make any problems known to the lemur.

"My, your friend sounds like he has a bright future ahead of him being able to build a device at such a young age." Vix could only make a guess about Tails age in her head given the information she was given, though he certainly sounded bright. "I often find it hard to understand my younger sister Kit sometimes as well. She certainly ended up much smarter than me or Twee so it can be hard to follow her when she starts going on about formulas and chemicals." The fennec always tried her best, though once Kit got going then there was no way she was going to understand half the stuff she said.

"Oh? I suppose it's not a surprise beings from other worlds can be born with unique abilities. You must be a real threat in combat with an ability like that. Reminds me of an old story about a snake who could turn his entire body into rubber to prevent any damage." Vix remembered her father telling her that story, though has a kid always thought he was making it up. These days the fennec wouldn't be surprised to even hear about a Lucky Star like that, though with age comes wisdom.

Vix swiftly took notice in Tangles change in demeanor as the topic moved to Eggman once again before listening to her explain in detail what kind of man he was. "Please forgive me, I didn't mean to upset you or think I take the threat lightly, just that he won't find it so easy to invade this world." The fennec would suddenly come to a halt. "One moment please," the High Queen said before holding out her left hand in front of her as magic slowly began to form in to a ball of energy about the size of a baseball. Suddenly a bat wearing a cloak would appear out of thin in right in front of the two only to be blasted with a beam of energy which exploded upon hitting the end of the hallway. They stranger was still alive, though clearly knocked out and heavily wounded. "These assassin's truly never learn. I'll have a guard collect them shortly. Now, let us continue the tour," she said, continuing to walk as if what just happened was normal.

"Well, I'd say you would more than likely have to travel between worlds quite often to settle any problems, at least at the start as I'm sure people from both your world and mine would be a bit uneasy about visitors from different worlds. Maybe more so with mine as it sounds more common in yours." Vix was simply mentioning how she assumed things would be at the start and nothing else. "Though I will retire the subject for now as we reached our next destination," the fennec said, opening two doors which revealed an extremely large library with at least seven different levels to it.

She couldn't hide a smile thinking about her Uncle. The old codger was a pain in her tail when she was younger. But the closest thing she had to a father. He was smart, sure even if he had a funny way of talking or saying things. She always listened after all his advice had saved her tail on more then one occasion. So she was all to happy to let him know someone else admired his little tea speeches.

" Hehe, i'm sure he'd puff his chest out hearin' ya say that! But yer right! He kept me outta trouble growin' up, and dealt with all my antics! "

She did get a little more excited at the prospect of showing off her own unique style of martial arts!

" Hah! i'd be happy to show ya! Developed my own style of fightin' with my uncles help. Was gonna be a professional fighter once, but well... Eggman ruined that! but least its still useful! "

"Well Tails said there was a return function on the Ring... i assume once its charged it can get me home. But takes awhile for them to get enough steam back to make a portal. Till then guess i'm kinda stuck... "

She explained with a sigh as she placed her hands behind her head. Wasn't much she could do, but she was confident Tails little device would get her home. it was just a waiting game till then. Unless the ring malfunctioned? Nah Tails Tech was to damn good to not have some kind of recall, the guy was a genius after all!

" Well If i do get back i bet Tails could help you guys get your own portals working. He's smart like that, owns his own business and everything! and he's younger then i am... now if only i could understand him half the time haha! "

Tangle was very much interested in the fighters out there. If she had her way she'd have jumped out there and took on the big guy just to see where she stood! But her attention went back to Vix as she explained her Lucky Star and how magic seemed to work. Tangle didn't get it but sounded a little like Gaia's gifts. Special abilities given to the people of mobius.

" Heh Lucky Star? Sounds a bit like how mobians are born with little powers or gifts. Like how my Tail has rubber like properties... real stretchy and super durable! probably why i'm so strong to... though i dunno all the details. that's a Tails question for sure! "

Tangle's demeanor took a shift when talking about Eggman, she didn't know what kind of military Flora had. but she knew what eggman was capable of. She'd seen and felt first hand what his madness could do on a whim. She'd fought his machines time and time again--- and even been the victim of his plague. She wondered if Vix understood what she was up against.

" Just be careful... Eggys alot of things but he's no dummy. His Cruelty knows no bounds... Hell, he uses animals as living batteries for funsies... not cause its effiecent but cause he hates nature and anything green ..."

As for the Ambassador Job? she'd think on it but really she felt Lanolin was a better fit. She and Sonic had a similar feeling on these matters. they just felt like important job like that should have someone who is gonna always be there. But Tangle was someone who wanted to roam, to see the world! To experience every adventure she could! Nah she just couldn't get tied down with a duty like that, it was to much responsibility!

" Maybe... i'll think about it... but i still say Lanni is better suited to that sort of job. I just wanna... see the world.... see what i can see... experience the wind in my face and the sun at my back... stayin' in one place i'd get so stir crazy! "

[sempcranticus]

endless adam aesthetics part 1 / ? 

[betterdcyz-a]

Adam in a suit. 

[puckrph]

‘THE RAVEN CYCLE’ STARTERS

taken from the YA series by maggie stiefvater. some alterations made as needed to make things fit better for rp. feel free to change pronouns, etc.

‘ sometimes, i feel like my life is made up of a dozen hours i can never forget. ’ ‘ “i’m always straight?” oh, man, that’s the biggest lie you’ve ever told. ’ ‘ it’s safe as life. ’ ‘ what fresh hell is this ? ’ ‘ my words are unerring tools of destruction, and i’ve come unequipped with the ability to disarm them. ’ ‘ i like you better this way. ’ ‘ crushed and broken. just the way women like ‘em. ’ ‘ fate is a very weighty word to throw around before breakfast. ’ ‘ rags to riches isn’t a story anyone wants to hear until after it’s done. ’ ‘ i’m trying not to look at your boat shoes. i feel better about you as a person if i pretend you’re not wearing them. ’ ‘ i want to feel awake when my eyes are open. ’ ‘ you’re pretty in a way that is physically painful to me. i’m attracted to you like a heart attack. ’ ‘ i am being perfectly fucking civil. ’ ‘ shitdamn, it’s hot. ’ ‘ when i’m gone, dream me the world. something new for every night. ’ ‘ kissing’s a lot like laughing. if the joke’s funny, it doesn’t matter how long it’s been since you last heard one. ’ ‘ well, i don’t know how helpful that was... we found out german beauty homers look like bloody puffins. ’ ‘ i wish i could kiss you. because i would beg just one off you. under all this. and then we’d never say anything about it again. ’ ‘ pie is not a meal. ’ ‘ i’m here. i just—i believe i’m having a panic attack. ’ ‘ thanks for the super helpful alternative suggestions. your contribution at the end of the world will be tallied accordingly. ’ ‘ blame the poets. it’s easier to stir people to rebellion if they think they’re on the side of a demigod or some chosen one. never trust a poet. ’ ‘ no one knows what ignominy means. ’ ‘ don’t be such a shitbag. ’ ‘ i’m perfectly aware that it’s possible to have a friendship that isn’t all-encompassing, that isn’t blinding, deafening, maddening, quickening. it’s just that now that i’ve had this kind, i don’t want the other. ’ ‘ you’d better wait in the car, with your fancy face. ’ ‘ feel its pulse, don’t just stare at it. pulse. on its face. there. there, [name], god. there. ’ ‘ we’re going so slow. i think i just saw a tricycle pass us. ’ ‘ my head knew you were all right. but the rest of me didn’t. ’ ‘ i just want to pretend. i want to pretend that i could. ’ ‘ damn. you’re right. i really can’t think of another joke. ’ ‘ it was cowardice and stupidity. i didn’t like good-byes, so i just abstained, and i didn’t think about the consequences. ’ ‘ in my head, everything is always so tangled. i am such a damaged thing. ’ ‘ i wouldn’t have pegged you for a fan of normal. ’ ‘ you marvelous creature! ’ ‘  maybe it’s good that the world forgets every lesson, every good and bad memory, every triumph and failure, all of it dying with each generation. perhaps this cultural amnesia spares us all. perhaps if we remembered everything, hope would die instead. ’ ‘ i was here. i exist. i’m alive, because i bleed. ’ ‘ do you think you’re the only one with a right to bitterness here? ’ ‘ i just want to keep being best friends with you forever, and maybe one day also have carnal knowledge of you. ’ ‘ my feelings for you are an oil spill. i let them overflow, and now there isn’t a damn place in the ocean that wouldn’t catch fire if i dropped a match. ’ ‘ i like you an awful lot, [name]. ’ ‘ for the first time that i can remember, i know what it would feel like to be present in my own life. ’ ‘ jesus god, dude, do you have stitches on your face? bad. ass. put it here, you asshole. ’ ‘ i was trying to protect you, you little pissant. ’ ‘ you’re asking me to define an abstract concept that no one has managed to explain since time began. you sort of sprang it on me. why do we breathe air? because we love air? because we don’t want to suffocate. why do we eat? because we don’t want to starve. how do i know i love you? because i can sleep after i talk to you. ’ ‘ not today! no, thank you! too many events this decade. perhaps later! cannot do the shock! thank you for your time. ’ ‘ i am a slow-growing creature! i cannot adapt so quickly! ’ ‘ tell me: when you dream, do you dream of the stars? ’ ‘ if you can’t be unafraid, be afraid and happy. ’ ‘ it really is a helluva fixer-upper. i feel like they should possibly renovate this basement if they want to get a good sale price. hardwood floors, update the doorknobs, maybe put the wall back. ’ ‘ the choice was death or hurting you, which wasn’t much of a choice at all. ’ ‘ that seems sentimental for a man without a soul. ’

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

Prompt idea: Geralt gets a contract for a monster that has been sighted nearby. When he tracks it down, he is surprised to find mothman!Jaskier who (much like actual mothman) has an ass that won’t quit.

?

I just want you to know that Mothskier now lives in my head rent free 24/7. I love him. I would die for him. This is my new favorite emotional support au.

2k-ish words - please feel free to shove comments through the bars of my enclosure, I would really like that

art by the ever-wonderful @mawbwehownets, whose drawing of Mothskier made me legit cry.

tw: mild injury, brief blood mention, strangers to lovers

---

“So what you’re saying,” Geralt raises an eyebrow slowly, curious, “Is that you need me to catch a monster that’s half man and half moth?”

“Yup.”

“Alright,” Geralt pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and pointer finger. The frustrated Witcher takes a slow breath to calm and center himself, before he ends up botching the entire contract-writing process. Humans tend to grow attached to the strangest monsters sometimes, and apparently this mysterious local being was no different. “Let me get this totally straight, so there are no mistakes or misunderstandings. You want me to capture this man-moth and get it out of your woods, but you don’t want me to kill it?”

“He’s called the Mothman, and he’s pretty damn stubborn about sticking around,” the aging farmer corrects Geralt with a little frown. Then his expression shifts and he smiles in a way that seems almost apologetic. “We were hoping you could find a way to relocate him without hurting or killing him, Master Witcher.”

“That’s completely possible, if he isn’t attached to this specific patch trees by any magical or biological means. You said his natural habitat is just… the forest?”

“As long as there's an abundance of pine around he seems pretty happy. Before he came to live with us, Mothman lived in a heavily forested area up the coast; or at least that’s what the historical records and local mythology seem to indicate.”

“That’s actually pretty helpful information to have on hand, I’m impressed,” Geralt nods. “Alright, Mr. Stevens. I promise to relocate the poor thing without killing or maiming him, and I’ll be sure to take him somewhere far enough away that your crops won’t be in danger. Thanks for calling me first instead of just going straight to an extermination service.”

“Honestly, Master Witcher,” the farmer sighs and readjusts his dirty baseball hat, “If it weren’t for the mischief he’s been getting into lately, we would have let him stick around until spring. I hate to admit it to a man as strong and stern-faced as yourself, but the poor creature is almost… adorable at times.”

“Well that’s a first,” Geralt chuckles, honestly amused by the situation he’s found himself in. “A monster being referred to as ‘adorable’ rather than ‘terrifying’. I’ve never heard such a thing in my many years of life.”

“Then you’d better prepare yourself, Sir Geralt. He’s got a pair of big blue puppy-dog eyes that’ll knock you on your ass if you aren’t careful. And that’s coming from a man who raised three daughters with dimples.”

“Hmm. Fuck.”

---

Geralt knows enough about moths to come up with a plan he thinks will work.

Before he heads into the woods to find and capture the poor wandering creature, the Witcher takes a detour through the lighting section of the nearest Lowe’s.

---

Unfortunately for Geralt, the farmer was right about the power of Mothman’s puppy dog eyes, which are big and blue and begin to water as soon as the Witcher’s net knocks him to the ground. The creature lies in a whimpering tangle of limbs beneath the heavy, magically enhanced restraints. Geralt takes an opportunity to look at what the locals called "a cryptid".

Mothman has a long, lithe body that's covered in a light layer of grey-brown fur, but his hair resembles that of a human’s, falling over those enormous blue eyes in a lovely chestnut fringe. When Mothman sees the swords on Geralt’s back he cries out in panicked recognition and tries to pull his arms up far enough to shield his face. The lamp Geralt used to lure him into the clearing is still bathing him in a pool of yellow light; it’s almost pretty for a monster, Geralt notes.

As the Witcher takes a step forward, the cryptid squeaks and buries his face against his own shoulder. His entire frame is trembling.

“Hey there, shhhhh,” the Witcher murmurs quietly. He drops into a squat and holds both hands up to show Mothman that they’re weapon free. Tears are now falling freely down the creature’s surprisingly human face; whoever or whatever this is, they are likely some kind of Fae. “I’m not here to hurt you, I just want to get you back through the veil.”

“Liar,” Mothman huffs. His voice has a surprisingly musical quality to it and Geralt is now sure of his Fae parentage (or grand-parentage).

“I promise I’m not lying,” Geralt reassures him, slowly crawling forward. When he reaches for the nearest corner of the net, he feels all of Mothman’s muscles go tense. “I’m going to lift this up and I am going to restrain you, but I swear that I’m not going to kill you. I wish to cause as little distress as possible. Is that alright, Mothman?”

The creature hisses and yanks his foot back away from where Geralt’s hand had nearly touched it. “Jaskier.”

“Hmm?” Geralt glances up, raising an eyebrow.

“My name is Jaskier,” the Fae repeats, glaring up from between the sections of woven rope that make up the heavy net. “Not Mothman.”

“My apologies, Jaskier,” Geralt bows his head. He words his introduction carefully, in case this thing can manipulate his name like others of his kind: “You may refer to me as Geralt.”

“That’s your real name,” Jaskier states. The Witcher’s head snaps up.

“How did you know?”

“Hmm,” Jaskier sticks his tongue out as he mimics the sound Geralt made earlier. “Not telli-AH! Stop! Oh go- gods, stop! Please!”

Geralt drops the short section of rope he’s trying untangle from around Jaskier’s ankle and snaps his eyes upwards, already searching for damage. “What’s wrong!?”

“My wing!” Jaskier bawls. His scent spikes out through the clearing, sharp with panic and pain. The creature’s chest begins to shake more violently than before, his shoulders shuddering with the rising force of his sobs, “It’s t-t-torn! Oh gods, my wing! Sir Witcher, p-please!”

Geralt freezes, his gaze settling on the torn section of Jaskier’s large, furry wing. It’s a nasty wound near one of the joints, a faint trickle of barely-luminescent blood has already dried around the edges. Jaskier tries to flutter it a little and screams in agony when the muscles shift too suddenly, shrilly enough that Geralt needs to cover his hypersensitive ears. The Witcher's heart crashes down into his boots; based on the way the shivering Fae has gone pale and silent, the pain is too much for him to process. He’s gone into shock.

A torn wing is exactly the kind of thing Geralt had promised the farmer (and the collective of townspeople he represented) wouldn’t happen to the peaceful moth creature if they hired a Witcher instead of an exterminator. He sighs and gives the strange being another once-over. “Everything's alright, Jaskier. You’re going to be alright. I’m so, so sorry that you've been wounded. We’ll get you out of this net and get you something for the pain, but it’s going to hurt a little to untangle you. Stay still, don’t struggle, and it’ll be over soon.”

“J-Just kill me,” Jaskier pants. He’s continuing to hyperventilate and Geralt needs him to calm down before he passes out. The Fae reaches a hand for the dagger at Geralt's waist and the Witcher twists out of reach with a frown. Jaskier sobs again, fingers still seeking, “I might n-n-never fly a-again so just k-kill me!”

“Breathe with me, Jaskier,” the Witcher instructs, forgoing patience and cutting through the net with that same dagger. He scoops Jaskier up into his arms, ignoring the keening sound at the back of Jaskier’s throat when his wing is jostled, and rushes the Fae to his truck, tucking him into the passenger’s seat and wrapping him in a large, fluffy blanket. “I’m taking you to my friend. She’s an expert at healing magical creatures and I'm certain that she'll get your wing fixed in no time.”

Jaskier doesn’t give an answer. When Geralt looks up into the creature’s face again, the injured Fae has already passed out.

---

Jaskier moves with all the grace of a newborn foal as he explores the room Geralt has provided for him. His wing has been inspected, treated, and bandaged by a rather scary sorceress named Yennefer, who glared at the Witcher the entire time she was caring for him. She had also taken one of Geralt’s old t-shirts and cut an enormous hole in the back for Jaskier’s wings to fit through. The shirt’s bottom hem falls to the middle of his thighs and the thick black material is softer than anything he’d ever felt before.

He hears a knock on the door and calls out, “It’s open!”

Geralt enters slowly, bearing a pair of pajama bottoms and a mug of tea. “I brought you some last minute supplies and - uh… I brought you some tea. Yen always likes some before she goes to sleep and I figured since this was a new place and new places can be scary that I should-”

“Thank you,” Jaskier interrupts, smiling shyly. His antennae twitch happily as he takes the offerings from Geralt's hands and the Witcher watches them with wide eyes. Jaskier carefully sets the pajamas and the tea on the nightstand before turning back to look at Geralt. “I will… see you tomorrow?”

Geralt gives one sharp nod. “Hmm.”

“Goodnight,” Jaskier sing-songs, taking a seat on the edge of the bed as Geralt exits.

From the other side of the closed door, Jaskier’s superior hearing picks up the Witcher’s final whisper: “Goodnight, Jaskier. I will always be sorry for causing you pain.”

The next morning he meets Geralt at the breakfast table, refreshed and ready to learn about the human world. He’s summoned a glamour in order to hide his more Moth-like traits, the only things that remain of his true nature are his wings and antennae; his fur is gone and he’s dressed in a pair of sweatpants and that same old shirt. The Witcher offers him a bowl of fruit and mug of something sweet-smelling. Jaskier glares into the mug with a slight pout to his lips before finally asking, “What is this?”

“Hot chocolate.”

Jaskier takes a sip and his antennae flutter, twitching happily as he swallows the best drink he’s ever had in his long life. He eats a strawberry from the bowl and slowly works his way through the hot chocolate, eyeing Geralt warily as the Witcher moves through the familiar kitchen to make his own breakfast.

“Where is Yennefer?”

“She went home,” Geralt shrugs.

“She isn’t your mate?”

“N-No,” Geralt sputters, turning to stare at the nervous young Fae. “Why would you think that?”

“You smell like each other.”

“We spend a lot of time together,” Geralt shrugs again. “Good friends, that’s all.”

“Hmm,” Jaskier mimics his host for a second time. Rather effectively by the annoyed twitch at the corner of Geralt’s mouth. “Just wondering.”

“Anything else you’re curious about?”

“Why don’t you have more lights?”

“Huh?”

“Lights,” Jaskier gestures around the minimalistic layout of Geralt’s open-concept kitchen/living room and its distinctive lack of lamps. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans forward against the dark marble countertop. The pout has gone from 'slight' to 'full-bore' and Geralt is clinging desperately to his braincell with how cute it looks. “It’s no fun.”

“You really like lamps, don’t you?” the Witcher replies, mouth dry. Jaskier huffs and takes another sip of his hot chocolate, antennae flickering back and forth in irritation. Geralt bites his lip to hide a smile; it’s too fucking cute, which is an odd thought for a Witcher to have.

“So what if I do enjoy a nice lamp or five in my living space?” Jaskier argues. "I'm a Moth of taste."

“No matter,” Geralt laughs quietly. “Finish your drink before it gets cold.”

---

Jaskier stays with Geralt for a few weeks while his wing heals, and for a creature whose sole interest seems to be fancy light fixtures, the Fae becomes a source of light in Geralt's own world. They go to a nonhuman friendly second-hand store to find Jaskier some more clothes and Geralt discovers the cryptid's love for oddly patterned shirts in bright colors. Jaskier chooses several to fill out his closet, as well as a sweater two-sizes too large in deep black (Geralt tries his best not to attach any meaning to this choice), a few pairs of pants, and a jean jacket that he declares, "Can be altered."

They watch movies together and make food together - Jaskier is always incredibly impressed by the way the automatic coffee maker works, and how easily Geralt can control the flames of the stove. Jaskier also follows the Witcher along on less dangerous hunts and helps bandage him up after worse ones, always there with a smile and a little kiss over the cleaned-up wound.

“It really is magic,” Jaskier always insists, lips pink and shining from licking them as he concentrates. "It makes you heal faster."

Geralt realizes one night - two weeks into Jaskier’s stay, as he leans against the doorframe and watches the strange creature’s even breathing - that he has gone and done the stupidest thing a Witcher can do: fall in love with a pretty, temperamental young Fae. Head over fuckin’ heels, actually.

So he makes a decision.

---

The next evening, after the dinner dishes have been cleaned and put away, Geralt herds Jaskier down the hall to the guest room. Those entrancing blue eyes blink up at him in obvious confusion. “Bedtime already?”

“No, not quite. I just- I made you… uh…”

“Do you have a surprise for me?” Jaskier asks, used to the Witcher's issues with verbalizing.

Geralt nods, relieved and thankful for the Fae’s steadfast understanding. “Do you want to cover your eyes or should I just open the door and show you?”

“I’ll close my eyes,” Jaskier smiles, covering his eyes with both hands. Geralt finds it adorable, as Jaskier always is, and allows himself a matching grin as he swings the door open. The ceiling light is off but Geralt has built a blanket fort at the center of the room and surrounded it with fairy lights of all colors and sizes. Inside the blanket fort is a mass of blankets and pillows; Jaskier has the odd habit of building nests - Geralt jokingly calls them cocoons - and sleeping in those on the floor instead of on the very comfortable mattress the Witcher has provided.

“Open them,” Geralt urges.

Jaskier pulls his hands away and Geralt watches as his pupils go huge and wide. Jaskier's face breaks out in the sunniest, most blindingly happy smile Geralt has ever seen. He turns and throws his arms around the Witcher, his wings fluttering behind him and his antennae twitching and flicking above his head. He tries desperately to speak but only manages a half-snuffled little “I’m-” before bursting into tears of joy.

Geralt just holds him, letting his arms fold carefully around Jaskier’s waist, just beneath his wings.

"I just wanted you to know that, if you wanted to stay, there would be room for you. Your room, if you want it."

"I do," Jaskier smiles, burying his face in the Witcher's neck. "I'd love to stay. I'd love nothing more than to spend my days going on adventures with you."

"Well then," Geralt gathers all of his courage and presses a soft kiss to the crown of Jaskier's head. He's met with happy spasms from the antennae so he does it again. And again. Moving from the top of the Fae's head to his cheeks and then his mouth - pretty and pink and pouting and so worth the trouble. "I suppose we can get started on our next adventure tomorrow."