#ill have my own bed too. an actual bed. something soft that doesnt hurt

[baldurs-gate-official]

God once my situation is better and I actually get the motivation to write/draw again? I will be unstoppable.

[voidselfshipp]

Paranormal Roomate

Cw: hurt/confort (none of the things my s/I says actually happened)

Summary: Jerico finds out shes sharing her house with someone unsual.

Only mutuals allowed to rb.

-> for this fanfic, I use the AU and visuals of "krosrios " on Instagram. (Aka. Dark//danny//Dan is older than me and the oldest of the feng.ton siblings)

Taglist: @tex-treasures @mercuryships @malewifehenrycooldown

Okay this was weird.

Jerico swears she had put that glass somewhere else, but whatever. Maybe she just imagined it.

Calmly painting away, she almost doesnt notice the sounds of heavy stepping. She stops, and tries to see if they come from outside. But then theres only silence.

"Weird" she thinks, to then shrug, and Keep painting.

Unbeknownst to her there was something going on, a local ghost decided it was a good idea to mess with her, scaring her with loud noises or weird sounds, footsteps.

Jeri at one point got used to it, to the point of talking directly to the ghost itself.

--I need to study, Keep it quiet!-- she said to the air, to then Open up her note books.

And what do you know, the ghost actually complied.

This ghost didnt seem to interact with her besides scaring the daylights out of her or eating food out of her fridge. But today was the exception.

Jerico closed the door of her house a bit too hard, locking it and leaving the keys on its usuall spot.

She threw her bag and jacket on the Office hair and plummeted in the bed. Letting out a loud sigh.

She curled up under the blankets, tears soon to follow as she hugs herself, and sobbs heavily.

She felt the weight of two muscly arms wrap around her waist behind her, something solid against her back. Shes too busy crying her eyes out that she doesnt freak out, only lean in the touch.

A soft and faint aquamarine glow catches her attention, she turns her head and is met with a heavily muscular Man, white flowing hair in a ponytail, red eyes and light Teal skin, wearing a black turtleneck and leather pants with combat boots.

The ghost clears his throat,after some seconds of silence he asks, almost in defeat-- What happened?

Jeri looks up at him, puffy eyes and red cheeks from crying, she just says--Bad day..

He sighs and pushes her head against his chest, body curling against her own in almost a protective manner.

--wanna talk 'bout it?-- The ghost said.

--...I dont know where to start...-- she made a pause, tanking a deep broken breath--remember that test I was studying for? I failed it, then there was so Many loud noises, ive heard them all day, someone poked fun at my insecurities....--she sniffed, the ghost Man looking down at her.

He says nothing and only hugs her tighter, anger in his chest directed at the person who dared make her feel bad.

--Easy...ive...ive got you now..-- he whispered against her hair, feeling her relax, still quiet.

They spent twenty minutes like that, in absolute silence.

--So youre the ghost that has been terrorizing me for months huh?-- Jeri asked, a faint tone of joking present.

--Hey..it never gets old-- he replied with a smirk, sharp fangs poking through his lips.

--Youre quite good looking-- jerico said off handedly-- I imagined you being like...a sheet ghost?

His flaming hair puffs up, cheeks turning a Darker shade of Teal-- Sheet ghost? Really?!

--hey! I dont know how ghosts look like!-- Jerico deffended herself, still joking.

He snorted-- well, cant blame you, I know for a fact that you dont like scary movies...you dont have any idea how ghosts look like

--that fact being that youve been living rent free in my house?

--i -- you-- he sighed-- youre the only one that lets me stay...

--Yeah I know..this house feels empty when im the only one living here...-- Jerico agreed.

--Uh..thanks for lettin' me stay..-- He looked away, awkwardly-- Figured you could use my name...Im Dan..

--Nice to meet you, Dan, im jerico

He chuckled thinking "dork"-- you better now?

--Yeah, thank you

--Dont mention it, hey...--his tone became softer-- ill make you some tea, you just..stay here..

--never thought the ghost who liked to scare the living shit out of me would take care of me like that

--You grew on me, youre too sweet-- Dan answered-- 'sides, if youre sad I cant scare you

--Haha, I like you too, dan-- jeri added sarcastically

He let out a happy "hmmpht" and flew through the wall to the kitchen.

Of course he knew how she liked her tea..., hes been living with her for months.

Though, a part of him was happy that he finally spoke to her, he didnt thought that he would get a crush on her when he first started scaring her. But she was very sweet, and a good person, and he couldnt help himself.

Jerico meanwhile had time to process what just happened. She grew fond of this ghost living with her, but now she had the smallest crush on him. I mean. He was very handsome.

Since then, Dan and Jeri became best Friends, and roomates, sort of.

Turns out, the beefy ghost was good at cuddling, and it didnt take long before Dan realized she had a crush on him. So, one night, they cuddled up in the sofá with some blankets and drinks, watching a movie, she was sitting on his lap, Back to his chest, both wrapped in a big blanket.

--Hey...-- he said, a bit scared-- I like you...

--Like you as in...*like* you like you? Romantically?

He looked away-- Uh- yeah..

Jeri made a pause as if she was processing what she just heard-- well..thats good..because I like you too..

He smiled and pressed a kiss to her temple, to then move to her lips and kiss her with all his strenght, which was a lot..

Jerico kissed back, wrapping her arms around his neck.

--I love you-- he spat out without thinking, love overwhelming Him.

--I love you too...-- She replied leaning in for another kiss. The movie becoming more of a background noise now...

[curious-menace]

Can you do headcanons of any Riddler getting cared for and gentle kisses from reader after getting beat up? He needs some loves.

SO I MAY HAVE SUGGESTED THAT MY ULTIMATE FANTASY IS TO GIVE RIDDLER A HUG WITH BACKRUBS AS HE TELLS ME ABOUT HIS DAY AND I STAND BY THAT WHOLE-HEARTEDLY .

i freaking love this stuff so im going to do all of them mwahahah

post asswoop riddlers getting loves

Arkham riddler

He’s VERY quiet, which knowing him and his inability to stop talking, is  bad news.

I paint arkham riddler as a cry baby and i stand by that. this is the hill i will die on. He’ll have dragged his sorry ass into your apartment or house , dripping blood on your floors but he wont bother calling for you. he’ll just sit at the table with his head in his hands having a lil pity party until you find him.

when you do finally get home, he’ll be looking like a kicked puppy. he’s gotten stuck in his own head, mentally beating himself up even more. he got a fright when you came in because he was so caught up he didn't even hear you at the door.

He’s literally sits there like a child with his arms up for you to come scoop him up. he’s not even sure why his first thought after getting beat up was to come here, he’s probably lead the cops here or something and that was so stupid and- you should probably give him a lil soft smooch on the head to stop him before he goes into a spiral.

he needs more emotional and mental care than physical. Talk to him while you're patching him up. any topic, it doesn't matter just keep him focused on your voice and not the one in his head calling him dumb.

he wont admit he wants to be held and coddled after something like this. get your softest blankie and 2 mugs of coco with marshmallows and just ramble at him. tell him about your day or ask him to explain something boring and complicated so he’s focusing on that rather than how upset he is. let him sit on your lap or between your legs on the sofa and watch how its made or mythbusters or something until he falls asleep. he should be ok again in the morning, he doesnt stay down for long. 

Blacklight Riddler

He’s used to getting his ass kicked, either by batman, the other rogues or once he’s a PI, by unhappy clients and the people he put away. He might be tiny but he’s pretty tough. 

even if he’s really hurting, his probably trying to crack jokes and tell blood and bruise related riddles. He doesn't like to see you worry so even if he’s in a lot of pain or a bit upset about things, he’s trying to make you smile.

he likes kisses on his bruises. even if he just banged his hand on the table he’ll come to you because he wants you to kiss it better. 

He’s a decent fighter, unlike a lot of riddlers who couldnt fight their way out of a paper bag. He can throw punches but he lacks in defence and with his bad knee, dodging can be a little hard. even if he wins the fight he’s still likely to need you to patch him up.

He likes kids plasters. like hello kitty and spongebob. no im not joking, he ALWAYS wanted them when he was little and his parents always said no. now he’s an adult he’s going to use them whenever he damn well pleases.

 if it was a particularly bad one, he’ll be ok in the moment even if he has to go to hospital. But he’s going to drop the facade at some point and let you see how upset he is. winding up in hospital after being beat was a common occurrence in childhood. even after doing it time and time again as an adult it doesn't make it any easier on him. he’ll want to stay in your bed, be close to you for few days until either he starts to heal or something snaps him out of his funk.

BTAS Riddler

he really prefers other people to do the fighting for him. well physically anyway. he can handle his own arguments...most of the time. He’s going to need you to nurse a bruised ego more than anything. he probably got dunked on my batman or crane and now he’s huffing.

i don't know if this counts as care and kisses but he clearly needs you around to keep his sorry ass alive. he hurt his side in a fight once and said he wasn't hurt. believable... until he started to act a little confused, a little dizzy. needless to say it worried you enough to take him to emergency care. 

He was obviously in agony by now but he was still fighting with you the entire drive there, insulting you and insisting he was fine. its a good job you took him when he did, turns out he’d ruptured his spleen and would probably be dead if you weren’t around to act like his common sense.

he still hasnt apologised for that. or any of the other times you insisted on medical care to stop him from pushing up daisies. he just pretends like you know he’s grateful so he doenst have to admit he’s bullheaded, stubborn and worst of all, wrong. 

if he has been seriously hurt, he acts more indignant about it than anything. he wants to be waited on and pampered while resting in bed. he can be a genuine pain to deal with, talking about how lucky you are to see him in such a vulnerable state and how you should be grateful he’s letting you do this for him.

He doesn't want to admit how much he actually needs you. his goons wont put up with him when he’s like this and he’s freaking paying them to do it. you do it for free and no matter how annoying he is you havent left him yet. he doesn't tell you but youve noticed he starts getting you more gifts about a week after he’s recovered. like its taken him a day or two to work out he should probably thank you for all you do.

Original Riddler

this riddler is just weird. like he gets a freaking hang nail and he pretends like he’s dying. but he could nearly lose a limb and he’ll say “tis but a scratch” and still try to hobble about like nothing is wrong.

actually he’s more like olaf “oh look i've been impaled.”. he probably tries to laugh off life threatening injuries like its nothing, taking maybe 3 steps before he collapses on his face in a blood puddle and lets out a tiny “help”

good luck moving his tall lanky ass around. better get a gurney and maybe those vets at the zoo who deal with giraffes. seriously if you want to take care of him you are going to need help or some sort of action plan and a go bag because with his limp butt this will not be easy.

he’s kinda like BTAS riddler in that he needs you to tell him the injury is serious. hes not dumb he just has a high pain threshold and genuinely doesn't realise that injuries are as bad as they are. 

he can be a bit of a baby while being patched up. he doesn't like a lot of blood or gore, it makes him feel a little sicky. better give him your phone to play with like a kid at the doctors or put the tv on for him to watch while you bandage  him. word of warning, he will pass out or throw up if you try to give him stitches.

i think you should focus your love and attention on him AFTER medical care. just focus on the job, be silent and as fast as possible to get it over with quickly. you should probably bring him something sweet too. no not just you, although you are sweet for looking after him. give him something sugary because he’s going to be light headed after seeing any blood. maybe you could give him a lolly for being a good patient. 

Telltale riddler

this riddler is essentially a metahuman. he can REALLY take a beating and bounce back fairly quickly. just look how many times batman punched him in the face and it barely stunned him! he doesnt usually need patched up after a fight. maybe just a lil smooch and some hugs

he did really need your help after the whole pact thing. having his friends abandon him hurt like hell, more than any physical injury ever could.

after that, he clings to you. almost obsessively so; we know he’s got some serious mental illnesses but he usually has the worst of it under control, even without meds. now? it seems like he’s experiencing ptsd and is afraid to go anywhere without you, like you might up and disappear if you arent in his line of sight at all times.

i think this riddler might need the most intense care from you. hugs and gentle reassurance wont be enough. you’re going to be responsible for taking him to therapy, keeping him taking his meds and grounding him to reality. this is the kind of responsibility you took on when you got involved with him but i doubt you realised how hard it would be. i cant promise it will all be worth it but i can promise he wont ever forget your kindness.

the kind of care he needs after such a hard knocking down is just stability. im not one for romance or any mushy gushy stuff but please just pour your love into the cracks in this poor mans soul.

its hard going, but he has his moments. his gallows sense of humor is still there and hey, after him being in and out and gone for so long, it might be nice to have him around more.  

Zero year riddler

INSUFFERABLE LITTLE SHIT THIS ONE. he could LITERALLY be bleeding out in your arms and he’d STILL be backseat driving on your medical skills. the temptation to just leave him there to bleed is INCREDIBLE.

he’ll drop the act eventually. he’ll ask and maybe even beg for your help. man has  no shame and all the self preservation instincts of a lemming. dont get me wrong, he can be a total coward some times, only looking out for himself . but when he’s actually hurt ? not a fuckin clue. does this head wound need an ice pack or heat pack? is this spurring blood wound worthy of medical care? no idea. he was a very sheltered child who never got so much as a bruise so he has no idea what to do when he’s hurt.

he gets the everloving shit kicked out of him on a clockwork basis. like you could hear knocking on your door at 3 am and already be at the table with a first aid kit like oh its tuesday riddler must have broken his nose.

he takes entirely too much joy in making you patch him up. youre starting to wonder if he’s doing it on purpose just to see you in your little apron and latex gloves . he’s getting off on this and you know it but god help you, you just  cant resist his dumb face asking for your help and would you also wear this pink nurses outfit while youre at it?

one time he lost a LOT of blood. he would be fine but he was pretty damn loopy from lightheadedness. while you were trying to get him into bed to rest he started flirting with you. can you believe the audacity? he’s lost 3 pints of blood and he’s still more focus on his libido? 

he’s actually going to be both humble and grateful for your help when he finally comes round. dont get me wrong, he’s still a bit of a prick but at least he says thank you for saving him before he demands you kiss all his booboos and ouchies. 

nonnie i am having a stroke. i was trying SO hard to just pick one but i COULDNT because i am WEAK for hurt and comfort.

theres a reason i have a tag that literally says “i have naughty hands and no self control”

someone needs to stage an intervention

got something you wana talk about? send me an ask or a dm! im always game to talk about our favorite curious menace 💚💜

[koba-baboba]

moony

a/n: hey look a new series because i got overhwhelmed by in the dark. this will be a self indulgent story so its ok if you dont like it. im trying a new writing style so let me know if its any good. this isnt really edited so read at your own risk. shout out to anyone who can figure out which part of this chapter i inserted after it was done.

chapter 1/? word count: 1628

warnings: none i think. a weeny bit of blood.

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towering trees and bright flowers are all i can see for miles, it was the most beautiful thing ever. mother held my hand, swinging it as we walked along the dimly lit dirt path. "happy birthday my love! how does it feel to be 6 hm?" mothers words are soft and full of love as she looks down at me fondly. "not much differnt, i think im taller maybe?" i screw my face up trying to think if i felt taller or not, i *felt* taller. mother laughed heartly as she looked around us. "youre almost past my hip now! youve definitely gotten taller." mother cooed still looking happily at me. i smiled, i *am* almost past her hip now! i swung her hand even more as we contiuned on our walk. "dad doesnt like to go on these walks does he?" i questioned, looking up at mother. "he doesnt like to get his fancy shoes dirty, Alexander has always been that way" she reasured me softly. the bush in front of us rustled, mother excitedly pulled me down to crouch so we didnt scare the critter moving towards us. i wiggled excitedly, hoping it would be a bunny. "stay still. maybe its a deer" mother whispers into my ear. the rustling get louder before a dirty tired looking man stumbles out. mother pulled me up harshly and hid me behind her. i tried to peek out at the man but she shoved me behind her again. i suddenly remebered what day it was, the full moon. i clutched to mothers shirt as she put a hand on my shoulder.

"can i help you sir? you look ill" mothers voice is shakey but firm. "now that you ask... i do need help"

im on my back on the floor, its uncomfortable and bumpy. my hands are wet and warm, it feels gross and sticky.i raise my hands to my face, theyre red? i turn my head to see if mother knows whats happening and... the man is on top of her, his teeth digging into her neck. shes screaming, crying, "m-mom?"

"mom?" i whisper but im not in that forest anymore, im on my bed in my room. i look around my room, at the posters and drawings on my wall that i made myself, at my trunk and bag near my door. it takes me a second to register the knocking at my door. "andi we need to go" a sandy haired man says softly as he pushes through my door. its just remus, im safe. i push myself up to sit on the edge of my bed and run my hand through my messy curls. "are you alright sweetheart?" remus- dad, asks me softly. "nightmare" i mumbled sleepily. he sighs and sits down next to me. he rubs circles against my back. "its always worse after the full moon, give yourself some patient love" dad said softly, he knew i wouldnt actually give myself time to bounce back. it was frustrating to admit i needed time to heal, i didnt like admitting i was differnt. dad sighed and kissed my forehead gently "get dressed, you can eat at the weasleys, molly will have plenty of food for you"

i pull my t-shirt and worn jeans on and try desperatley to make my hair less of a mess. i dragged my trunk downstairs towards dad who was waiting patiently at the door. "ready? molly will have some ointments for you when you get there."

"i double checked this time" i chuckle, more than once ive forgotten something important, my school supplies werent exactly cheap so that wasnt exaclty ideal. dad chuckled and looped his arm through mine and, with a loud pop, we landed at the burrow. my second home! i live here as often as i do at dads house. it was the most brilliant house ive ever been too.

the door flew open and two lanky twins came flying towards me. fred and george collided with me, hugging me tightly. i giggled squeezing them tightly. Remus put his hand on my shoulder “I’ll see you at the train station, be safe” and with a pop he was gone.

“He never comes inside” a sweet voice came from the doorway. A plump woman was looking fondly at the three teens. She opened her arms wide, beckoning me forward. i smiled and wrapped my arms around molly. “Hello dear” she cooed into my hair. Molly pulled back and looked me over, cupping my face and turned it side to side, examining the new cuts and bruises i donned. She hummed

“Ginny! Ron! Come here!” Molly shouted as she pulled me inside, the twins following.

“She’s going to coddle you” Fred whispered into my ear with a little chuckle. i rolled my eyes as i followed molly into the kitchen where Ron and Ginny had just rushed in.

“Andi!” Ginny bounded towards me wrapping her arms around me and hugged me like it had been years since the last time she had seen me. Ginny had always looked up to me like an older sister ever since she could speak. i hoisted Ginny up and into my arms spinning her around. god i loved the weasleys, every one of them, including percy.

“I’m a little offended you didn’t do that for us” George huffed feigning hurt.

“Yeah come on andi, I thought we were your favourite” Fred added, mimicking his twin.

“Now when did I say that boys” i teased as i plopped Ginny back on the floor. The twins rolled their eyes before throwing their arms over my shoulders. the twins did this to me so often, we were always joined at the hip in some way.

“I dunno I just have a sneaking suspicion that you like us” the boys said in unison. i snickered and gave Ron a happy “hello”

“Now now boys don’t be too rough on her” molly scolded shooing the twins off of me. i sighed, Molly always had a tendency to treat me like i was fragile. “Oh come on mum it’s not like we’re throwing her around” Fred whined. “We could if you wanted” George whispered. The trio had learned early on that the best way to annoy the younger groups was to mock flirt with each other. After awhile it became an inside joke that the three found hilarious. Much to everyone’s dismay.

“Come on andi let me clean you up” Molly’s words are sweet but insistent. i know better than to argue with molly over this stuff. Molly is a excellent healer and it would be stupid to deny her help. i looked over at the twins who are grinning ear to ear, they did warn me i suppose. i rolled my eyes once more before following molly to the living room. i sit down on the sofa the twins and i often crowd. It was far too small for three lanky teens. Molly began rustling in a little bag near a bookshelf. She was humming a song and shaking to a tune only she could hear. Ah ha! Molly exclaimed as she pulled out a little jar full of white paste.

“This will help it heal a little faster, it won’t keep it from scarring unfortunately” molly starts excitedly before mumbling off the last part. i knew this, magic was wonderful but it couldn’t prevent scarring in most situations. i had more scars than i cared to count. Molly cupped my face as she smeared the paste over my wounds, i winced slightly. no matter if it had numbing ingriedents or not, this part always hurt

“I know it hurts, just breathe” molly humed. “Do you have anymore?” Molly questions looking me over. “You know the answer to that question” i chuckled dryly as i stood pulling my shirt up with me. Revealing a bandage stretching across my stomach.

Molly sighed, she hated seeing her kids hurt, not that Andi was her kid but it certainly felt like it. Molly peeled the bandage off slowly trying desperately to keep it from hurting too much.

i shuddered biting back tears as i felt the bandage pull healed skin with it.

The twins were watching from the doorway as molly tended to Andi. They knew what Andi looked like after full moons but they never got used to the gashes and bruises she dawned afterwards. Fred turned away, he felt sick to his stomach, he loved Andi, he wished he could take this from her. She didn’t deserve it.

Molly patched andi's stomach up once more and pulled her shirt down over it.

“Put this on your face twice a day and I’ll help you with your back until you go to school then then ask one of your friends to help” molly instructed waving her finger at me to enunciate her words.

“Yes ma’am” i mock soluted, i knew how much that annoyed her. i turned towards the door way and gave George a lopsided grin and peeked past him at Fred who was leaning against a counter.

“Want to show me what your letters talked about?” i said my tone dripping with mischief. The twins faces lit up as they grabbed my hands and dragged me up the stairs, giggling like kids the whole way to their room.

“What are you three planning??” Molly shouted up the stairs. She knew those three were troublemakers at heart. They had been since they met when they were 7. Remus needed help with Andi after a rough full moon and the rest is history. The three of them managed to turn rons teddy bear into a spider once.

[spelling-checked-mostly]

Idk if you do fic writing but maybe GO -because I'm obsessed and "nanny, why are you crying?" Idk. Kinda feeling angsty. If you don't do fic that's cool too. Idk, feeling bored in here on this Friday afternoon... iloveyourworkpleasestartpostingagainokaythanksbye

Oh uh... wow okay hi. I do write fic, thanks for the prompt. I'm not great at angst /lies/ but I can try. Note that I am typing this on my phone. Warlock was singing- internally of course. Nanny wouldn't approve of the future ruler of hell literally singing. Unless of course, he sings queen. So Warlock sang internally, voicing his joy only in his head. “Yes father, I would love to go.” It’s the first time he has really been allowed to go to an event like this. “I can behave. I promise.” “I’m sure you will not embarrass me. Especially with your nanny there to keep you in line.” Crowley's head shot up. He had very little interest in going to these events. Of the very few things humans did that he actually had an influence in- he hated dinner parties the most. He just found them dreadfully boring. “Yes sir, of course.” He wanted to sit in his room and drink that night out of existence. “I'll make sure Warlock is the perfect son.” As soon as his father had left Crowley told Warlock to go play in the garden. He followed of course. Hunting down the one being on this planet who would understand his opinions on the matter. “Sometimes, Francis, I really hate being perfect.” Crowley ‘leaned’ against a shrubbery and watched Warlock chasing after a rabbit he had found. “You are far too vain, my lady. Though that may be your only flaw.” Aziraphale stood, wiping the dirt off of his hands. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company this afternoon?” Crowley sighs dramatically and looks away. “Do you recall, oh it wasn't that long ago of course you do, when politicians and debate first started developing into a less- er… civil manner. I suggested to some minister or some such that they all get together for a party.” Azira nods. “Honestly, they do seem to resolve things better when they are all in a good mood.” he sighs, “I suppose I should have thanked you for that.” Crowley shrugged. “But are the decisions they are making actually good ones? I had to use a lot of questionable logic to not get in trouble for that.” Aziraphale laughs, only a little. “Well anyway, I have to go to one with the antichrist. I can't imagine it will be enjoyable in the slightest.” And Crowley can see the way his angel physically deflates. Because something is wrong. “Everything alright Angel?” “Hmm? Oh yes, everythings just… tickety boo.” And Crowley rolls his eyes- not that you can tell, but he does it anyway. “We have been over this. No one who is tickety boo actually uses the term tickety boo. What's wrong, come on now tell me. We’re partners aren't me. If you have concerns about the child… or something else?” And aziraphale sighs, and frowns and crowley doesn't like it at all. “It's just… I've been thinking recently… Warlock is getting older and- and well he's not spending so much time at home anymore and you always go away with him and I-I just feel like when you go… I feel- you get more chances to tempt the child than I do is all.” And Crowley laughs. And Aziriphale will never tell him how much it hurts when he laughs at him. “Oh Angel, you should have told me sooner why- we could have certainly found some excuse for you to come with us. Might need a miracle but I can certainly work something out… If that's really what you are so down about.” And Azira forces himself to smile. And Crowley can see through it but he doesn’t say anything. And Warlock comes running over. “Nanny, nanny come look, I’ve killed it.” And Crowley smiles. And Azira gasps. And they go together to find the poor creature. “Very good.” “Now now, Warlock. We should respect and love all of god's creatures. How about a proper burial.” Aziraphale doesn’t give him a chance to argue. He takes the rabbit up in one hand and leads him over to a steadily growing wildlife cemetery. “But Nanny says that-” “The one thing you should respect is your elders.” Crowley smiles softly over at his Angel, even if there is no acknowledgement of what he has said. “Yess nanny, I’ll get the shovel.” “Thank you for that dear.” Aziriphale says it quietly and doesnt turn around. ~~~~~Convenient time skip for exposition~~~~~ “He called me dear. Can you believe that? I mean I know he does it all the time. It’s just his nature. He calls everyone dear. It just felt different this time, you know?” He continued gently misting his plants. “He's a terrible gardener, but I can forgive that.” There's a light rustling and crowley stops. Resting his hand on his hip with all his demon sass. “We have been over this. It’s not like that. Satan though, I wish it was. But could you imagine?” He laughs and goes back to tending his own little garden in his room. “I’d have to teach him how to dance though. Angel only knows one dance and-” “Nanny who are you talking to?” Crowley shrieks and spins and nearly sprays Warlock in the face with the spray bottle before catching himself. “I wasn't talking to anyone. Do not sneak up on me.” He sets the spray bottle down and leads them out of the side closet into the main area. “Sorry. I’m jsut bored because i was listening to father talk about work and i started thinking and - Oh yeah i came up to ask you something.” Warlock grins and Crowley can't figure out if he is proud of or afraid of the demonic gleam in his eyes. “Do you have a date for the party Nanny?” Crowley nearly falls out of his chair. “No-I- Well- Am i supposed to?” He straightens out his skirt and tries to compose himself. “Well, I was listening to father and he was talking about how one of his partners got a new girlfriend and father hates her but he just knows that his partner is going to bring this girl with him and it got me thinking that you are a fairly pretty woman. At least, far prettier than my friends' nannies so i figured you must be seeing someone.” Warlock pauses for air so Crowley takes the chance to cut in. “Well, if ruling hell doesn’t work out I suppose you could make a career in flattery.” He decides he is definitely not going to address the issue of his love life with the antichrist. “It's just that i'd really like to meet him. So i asked father if he hated all boyfriends and girlfriends or if it was just the man he works with and he said that they weren't all bad and he wouldn't even mind people bringing dates to things like this if they weren't so insufferable as that girl so i asked if he would let you bring your boyfriend and he seemed really confused but he said that your boyfriend couldn't possibly be as bad as that girl so as long as you do your job and i really want to meet him nanny.” And again warlock pauses for breath. This time Crowley doesn’t speak. He thinks for a moment before opening his mouth. “Say you’ll take him to the party or I- I’ll- when i take over hell i won't let you have sweets.” Crowley laughs. “Would it still be as exciting if you had already met him?” Crowley could laugh from the look on the boy's face. “You aren’t dating Clyde are you? It would be just like you to date another nanny and he's just so bossy and he doesn’t even believe ill take over hell and… I don’t like him or stupid Jackson and his stupid new toy train.” Warlock folds his arms over his chest and pouts. Crowley does laugh this time. “No, Clyde is too… too much of a nanny. No Warlock, I would be bringing Francis.” Warlock does not look as surprised as Crowley would have expected. “The gardener? I mean I guess I see it but he's so soft and you're so- uh..also soft. But like dark soft.” and crowley nearly growls. “I. Am. Not. Soft. And if you say it again you’ll be going to bed early.” He can hear the plants rustling behind the door. “Well it's just… he looks like he escaped from a male convent.” “A monastery?” “And you look like… you. Like you are waiting for people to find the body of your ex husband who disappeared three years ago so you can play the grieving widow and inherit his fortune.” “You are very creative, warlock. I am eager to see what your future looks like. Yes, seeing as I am aloud I will be bringing Francis as my date to the party. Go play in your room for a but, Nanny has something to take care of.” As soon as Warlock is gone Crowley pops back down to the garden. “Brother Fran- Oh don't scream Angel, it’s just me.” Crowley waits for him to calm down. “I told Warlock we are dating.” “You did what!” “Oh for Satan's sake angel I said don’t scream.” Crowley smiles and brushes his hair back. “Yes, Miss Ashtoreth, I won't scream but I must ask dear. You did what?” “Its brilliant really Angel. And Warlock gave me the idea. Maybe you really are having an influence on him.” The comment goes right over the angels head. “I've told him we are dating. Then you can be my date to parties and things. It’s fine with his father by the way. No miracle needed. You can have just as much chance to influence the boy as me.” And Azira smiles. And Crowley knows it's still fake but he can’t possibly figure out why. So he leaves it alone. “I guess when you put it like that it’s okay to lie.” Oh. Oh right. “Of course Angel. So may I tempt you to join me for a dinner party?” “I suppose. Yes. You could.” ~~~ Time skip because i hold all the power ~~~ “He said yes. Can you believe that. Of course he says its all a lie so he doesn’t really love me but i suppose we've known that this whole time haven’t we? Yes I suppose we have. We’ve been over this.” Rustling. Crowley sneers. “Oh you know what, shove it up your roots Phil. I would run you through the disposal if you weren’t the second most perfect specimen i’ve ever seen. Don’t tell the others of course. How will i strike the fear of- uh- me into them if they know i treat you like this.” ~~~ Time skip because that was just self indulgent~~~ "Oh, Miss Ashtoreth, who's your friend" Crowley cringes at the sound if that voice and grips Aziraphale hand a little tighter, trying to sink into the wall. "Not now Clyde, I'm trying to watch Warlock. Unlike some people, I take my job seriosly." "Oh please, what trouble can they really get into here? Be polite, introduce me." Crowley pouts. Legitimately pouts. And Azira pulls his hand away to offer it to 'Clyde' "I'm Francis, Lady Ashtoreth' partner." Warlock watches Crowley's mental battle to not rip Clyde's hand off when he reaches out. "Im Clyde, of course. I nanny for one of Warlocks friends. Miss Ashtoreth and I are very close, funny she didn't mention you." Azira laughs nervously. "Yes well, as a couple were fairly-" "Private." Crowley takes his hand bag and drags them away. "I hate that man. Honestly, he dares question the legitimacy of our relationship. We are perfect together." And Azira forces are smile. Because he knows. And Crowley can tell it's forced, but he doesn't press it. Because he doesn't know. "So this is the uh… boyfriend Warlock talks about" they spin to the new person, crowley doesn't let go of his hand. It's an awkward turn. "Yes Mr. Dowling." Crowley is beaming. And Azira hates it because his adversary is trying to tempt him again and he can't get in trouble. "I must be honest, I never would have suspected. Of course, my wife always has more of a sense for those things" he nods a little, like that makes sense. "Well sir, we do try to be professional at work." Wonderful excuse Crowley. A genius you are. "Thank you for allowing him to come with us though." "Yes well, you seem to still be watching after Warlock so I don't see the harm in letting you have some life" he sighs, looking around. "Er… would you mind telling Warlock he can't stay for dinner. There are really some important decisions to be made so we are rereading some ending the children home early." "Of course sir" Crowley was not looking forward to upsetting the antichrist. He resigned himself to it, and set about locating the boy again. Every person who cast doubt on his relationship with aziraphale upset him more until he was eager to get out. But of course, every time he looked back at his angel, Azira seemed to be having fun. Laughing and chatting with whoever they had bumped into. And of course, there were people who weren't entirely surprised. Which made it a little easier for Crowley to stomach socializing. Every chance he got to tell someone that he and Azira were dating, he took. He adored being able to say it. Although, he noticed, it did seem to put his date a little on edge. Finally they found Warlock. Or... he found them. "Nanny this is boring, I want to leave." Crowley sighed. "Well you're in luck. Your father is sending you home. Come on now, let's get your things." If crowley were anything other than a demon he might be ashamed to admit that he used a minor demonic miracle to get than hem out without people noticing. As an angel Aziriphale is rather distraught over his own use of a miracle to keep people from noticing them. On the drive home even Warlock can tell that it's tense. Azira waits for Crowley to put the child to bed before saying anything. But as soon as he walks down the stairs. "I can't do this." And he can see Crowley break. Anthony Janthony Crowley, demon from hell, nearly starts sobbing on the stairs. But only for the fraction of a second when that wave of emotion first hit's him can you tell. Then he carefully packs it away. "Can't do what Angel?" And Crowley knows. And aziraphale gives a sad little smile, because he knows. "We aren't right Crowley. Every single person could tell. You could tell" "Aziraphale it's not about what some stupud humans think. We are doing this because- so that you can spend a little more time with the kid. Put us on even ground. Who cares what people say. We can do this." And Crowley hates that he's practically begging and Aziraphale hates that he's practically begging and they both hate this situation. "I can't do this Crowley. I. Me. I cant. I'm an angel Crowley and it's just wrong to lie about something so... intimate. So human. It's wrong to lie to everyone." And Crowley can see that tidal wave comming in again. So why not swim out to meet it. In a flash he's right in front of his Angel. Holding his face. Pleading. "Why does it have to be a lie?" And he hates himself for leaning foreward and kissing that stupid, stupid angel. But for the briefest second he sees heaven. Then Aziraphale pulls away. "I've said it once, I'll say it hundreds of times. Until you understand. You go to fast for me" It crashes over him and he's drowning. "Go. Go away. Go back to your own house tonight. Don't bother comming in tomorrow. Itll be too rainy for you to get any gardening done" "Oh, Dear don't-" "Get. Out. Aziraphale." And he leaves. And the door closes. And Crowley barely makes it up to his room. He doesn't make it up to his room. "Nanny, why are you crying?" Warlock steps out of his bedroom door and puts a gentle hand on Crowley's arm. "That party was just so dreadful" and -for the first time since Warlock had learned to walk- his nanny picks him up, carries him to bed, and tucks him in. "Thank you, Warlock." And then he leaves. ~~~Time skip brought to you by a lazy author and stuff~~~ "He HATES me Phil." Crowley sits in the corner. To dry to cry. He just sits there, staring at the plant. "He he's me and you know what I hate me too and I bet you hate me. Warlock doesn't hate me though. The one person that I need to hate everything doesnt hate me." A dry sob shakes his rib cage. "I've made a discovery though. I do believe angel saliva is some weird form of holy water. I thought ink he was about to kiss me back. Right before he pulled away. His eyes were closed I know it." It's silent for far too long. "I love him, Phil." Ahnhdmhxnabdh I haven't gotten a prompt in like ever. I love you sm. I haven't written GO fic in forever. I did more research for this than for my actual writing projects because I did not preciously know what a male nunnery was called. This was fun. Btw- Phil is a fake plant. Crowley doesn't know yet.

[eiro-ae]

Unsure

Genre: Fluff, slight angst

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: None

It was late afternoon when you had managed to make it home, a cute valentines gift bag in your hands, full with gifts and a card for your one and only valentine. It had taken you so long to hand make half of these items, but it was definitely worth it. You placed the bag on display on your kitchen counter before making your way to your room and pulling out your phone.

[6:23pm] Whatcha doin?

You waited for a moment, a giddy smile upon your face.

[6:27pm] Practice.

The one word response was a little new, he had always made time to give you an appropriate response because he knew you hated one word responses. However, you let it slide, just thinking that he must be super busy.

[6:29pm] I have something for you. Can you text me when you’re available?

Another moment passed, the three dots seemingly permanent on the screen.

[6:32pm] Sure, it’ll be a little bit though.

As much as you had hoped it would be sooner, you understood that he was busy, so you gave a small pout before replying.

[6:34pm] Okay, that’s fine.

To pass time, you laid there, scrolling through youtube. A few funny videos popped up, and of course you had to watch those. One in particular had almost brought you to tears from laughing so hard, so you decided to send it to Yangyang. You didn’t expect any response, and as you expected, you got nothing.

You continued to wait, for much longer than you wanted. It was getting later and later and not a single word from Yangyang. Your heart began to drop, bringing your mind to a thinking state. A state you knew you didn’t need to be in. You always overthought things, and you knew that, but you just couldn’t help it. Yangyang was the first good thing that has ever happened to you and you were just so scared that he too would get tired of you and walk out on you.  

It was now 8pm, and you still hadn’t heard a single word from him. Does he even know what today is? Did he just forget? Those questions brought you to another question, one that you had put off for so long. What are we?

You and Yangyang had been friends for so long, and you obviously had a massive crush on him, but… when he asked you to be his girlfriend, he was so confident. He kind of laughed about it, as if it was a joke. Of course you said yes, you’d be a fool to say no. His face had fallen, he seemed so shocked that you had said yes. You couldn’t tell if it was because he wasn’t expecting you to feel the same way, or if he was shocked you took his joke seriously. He never said anything about it, instead he just said okay before running off with his friends.

Now that you two were… together? You hated that you couldn’t quite label it. Anyway, he doesn’t treat you like his girlfriend. He still treats you like a friend. He never holds your hand, he never kisses you, he never calls you any names other than your name or some stupid nickname he gave you in middle school. You were starting to wonder if maybe he was joking that day, that he didn’t actually want you to take it seriously.

You shot up from your lying position, eyes wide and mind racing. Was he joking that day and now has to deal with you because you said yes? Was he just trying not to hurt your feelings? Did he not want you? Is that why he’s so distant? It would make sense. You could feel the familiar sting in your eyes, trying your hardest to push back the tears, telling yourself it was a stupid reason to cry and that you were just overthinking things again, but it only made it worse.

You gripped onto the pillow you had been holding before shoving your face into it as you cried. You didn’t even notice your phone going off behind you.

[8:22pm] Okay, I’m done. What’s up?

[8:29pm] Hello? Did you fall asleep? It says you’re reading my messages

[8:34pm] I know you’re awake, you never sleep this early.

You still didn’t even notice that he was blowing up your phone, even when he called you.

[8:37pm] 1 missed call

[8:43pm] 2 missed calls

[8:48pm] 3 missed calls

He was determined to reach you, but you just wouldn’t answer your phone. He knew how you were so it was only beginning to worry him.

[8:51pm] Please answer me, you’re starting to make me worry.

[8:56pm] This isn’t like you… what's wrong?

At this point you had calmed down with the tears, instead you laid there in your bed, curled up like a child, completely forgetting that you even had a phone.

[9:16pm] Fuck this, I’m coming over.

The tears had picked back up, and you hated yourself for it. You kept telling yourself to stop being a baby, that it’s a dumb reason to cry. After another ten minutes you had expected it to die down again, but it only picked up even more and you were to the point where you were choking on your tears. You didn’t even hear the door to your apartment open, nor the footsteps that led to the opening of your bedroom door as well.

Yangyang stood there, watching your shaking figure and listening as you cried. His heart had dropped and he was more than confused. He slowly made his way to you, announcing his presence.

“No, no, no, come here.” He lifted you up as he sat on your bed before pulling you to him. You latched onto him, crying into his shoulder. You wanted to stop but it was only making it worse now that he was here.

After a good few minutes, you were able to calm down enough to pull away from him. He looked down at you with a concerned expression.

“Why were you crying?” He asked you softly as he moved a strand of hair from your face. You didn’t know how to tell him, you felt like maybe he’d just look at you like you were stupid for it. However he has a way of making you tell him what he wanted to know so you just learned to give up and tell him anyway.

“I.. um…” You sighed, looking away from him. “What are we?” You deadpanned, bringing a wave of silence into the room. Yangyangs brows furrowed as he thought about the question.

“What do you mean?” He asked, genuinely confused at the question.

“I mean.. You asked me to be your girlfriend, but you looked so surprised when I said yes.” You started. He was still quite obviously confused.

“Well I mean, I was…?” How did you even properly explain to him how you felt?

“I know but… it seemed like maybe you were joking when you asked me out? And maybe you were shocked because I took your joke seriously? I mean, you haven’t treated me any different from that day. You never hold my hand, you never call me any cute names, you never kiss me, you never do anything and I was starting to wonder if you were just dealing with me because you didn’t want to hurt my feelings.” It was silent again, and you were starting to regret even telling him that.

“That’s not it at all.” He states plainly, going to grab your hand before sighing.

“It was never a joke, I wanted you, I still want you. I was surprised because you said yes so quickly and I was expecting a no. I was so nervous that day but I had to do it. I never do anything with you because I’ve been too nervous to. I didn’t want to move too fast because I didn’t want to scare you off. I guess that was the wrong choice. I never meant to make you feel like I didn’t want you.” The explanation was enough to make you cry again, but you forced them back. Yangyangs hand made its way to your cheek, rubbing away the tears that had already fallen.

“If you want me to hold your hand, just tell me. If you want me to call you baby, I will. If you want me to kiss you, don’t hesitate to ask me. I’d love to do all these things, I just didn’t want to rush you.” You looked up at him with glossy eyes, searching for any hint of insincerity in his own, but there was none.

“Kiss me.” You spoke softly. A soft smile tugged at his lips as he looked down to yours. He angled your face as he leaned down, his eyes closing as his soft lips met your own. The kiss you shared was gentle, but it meant so much to you. You kissed him back with such feeling, and you could almost understand how he felt just by the way he kissed you. When he pulled away, you were slightly disappointed, wanting nothing more then to attach your lips to his once more. He gazed down at you with a smile.

“So.. about that gift.” You let out a giggle before lightly smacking his arm.

“Kiss me again and I’ll go get it for you.” He smiled before leaning down to meet your lips once more.

“Gladly.”

This was based on a dream that I had. I honestly forgot I wrote it but I thought I’d go ahead and post it. 

[butcanijustnot]

Dating Natasha Romanoff would include:

Tagging @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69

(If you have a character you want to see written, or you want to be tagged, PM me and I’ll add it/you to the list.)

You met her when she first joined S.H.I.E.L.D, tasked with helping her become accustomed to her new life on the right side of the law.

You ended up spending a lot of time together, helping each other with work and casually hanging out afterward.

Natasha didn’t usually trust anyone, especially having just come out of her assassin career, but she just got a good vibe off of you. You were calm and caring, but strong and brutally honest when you had to be. You did your job well and didn’t take any unnecessary shit from anyone. She just felt like you were worth her time and trust.

You had a flirty friendship, and over time you developed feelings for her, real feelings, but you never acted on them

“She’s straight.” You’d tell yourself. “And even if she wasn’t, she’d never be interested in someone like me.”

She continued to flirt, but now each long touch and strung out word burned a hole in your heart. She was something you didn’t think you could ever have, but little did you know she had the same feelings for you.

Both of you stayed in this nebulous limbo for a long time, flirting but never going anywhere, until one day you were out for drinks.  

You were both a little tipsy and in the bathroom in the club reapplying makeup. You were giggling to yourself and Natasha looked at you confused.

“What is it?”

“Nothing. I love that lipstick on you.” You cooed to change the subject and shoot her a compliment. You loved the bright red lipsticks that she wore and was secretly jealous of how well she could pull them off. If only you had that confidence.

“You wanna try it?” She asked, a devilish smirk on her face.

Eh, you probably weren’t going to spend that much longer at the club anyway, you could jazz it up for the remainder of your time. “Sure!” You agreed.

Her lips crashed onto yours before you could register it and time seemed to slow right down to a standstill.

She tasted like everything you dreamt of, Scotch and lipstick and something you hadn’t tasted anywhere else that was uniquely Natasha.

She pulled away for a second and you suppressed the urge to whine at the sudden loss of contact. “Are you alright with this? I’ll stop if you’re not comfortable.” She asked.

“Please don’t stop.” You reconnected your lips with hers, full on making out this time.

Needless to say, you two hooked up that night. You promised yourself that it wouldn’t let it change the friendship you had with her, and Natasha seemed to make the same promise because your friendship remained the same after this.

Except you would sleep together every once in a blue moon. Just one major difference. Everything else was the same.

You two had this relationship for a while, friends with benefits until one-night things changed.

“Have you thought about us?” Natasha asked you as you lay in bed next to her. “About us actually…”

“Dating?” You finished for her.

“Yeah.”

“Yes. I think about it a lot actually. Why do you ask?” You questioned.

“I don’t know. I guess I’ve just been watching the other avenger pair off. Tony and Pepper are on their three-year anniversary, Steve and Sharon are a ‘thing’ now, and Clint’s just had his fourth kid. Hell, even the resident robot’s got a girlfriend!”

“Vision and Wanda are finally together!?!” You squealed. Last you heard they were relentlessly pining for one another. You didn’t know the Avengers personally but Natasha told you all the good gossip.

“Yeah, they're pretty adorable.” She took a deep breath and continued. “I want to be happy like they all are, and when I think hard about who could really make me happy…” She paused and looked over at you. “I can only ever think of you.”

Your heart almost exploded right then and there. You enveloped her in a soft hug. “Natasha Romanoff, that is the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard. I’m so glad I can make you as happy as you make me, and if you’ll have me, I’d be honoured to be your girlfriend.”

To be honest, your relationship didn’t change too much after you got together. You went out more together, either for coffee before work or dinner and drinks after. It was simple but you liked it.

Your relationship was never truly monogamous until you both stopped working for S.H.I.E.L.D. Both of you had jobs that involved seducing people for information and assassination, so you both had to be comfortable with the other doing so. Luckily, Natasha trusted you and you trusted her, and you were both very open and honest about what happened on missions. There were no secrets between you, why would you need to have them?

Natasha didn’t tell the other Avengers she was dating anyone until a couple of months down the track. In fact, she didn’t tell anyone for about three months. You were a little confused but didn’t question it. Then, when she finally did tell them, you immediately found out why.

“They want to meet you. All of them.” Natasha said, flopping down on the bed with a groan. “They asked me about a thousand stupid questions.”

“I’m happy to meet them, but all at once sounds pretty daunting. Plus, the questioning will make me super nervous.” You mumbled, petting her hair as she lay face down in the mattress.

“I know. I told them to wait and I’d introduce you in due time when you’re ready.” She got up and nodded.

“Thanks, babe.” You whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

Of course, it didn’t work out that way.

First, Steve and Sam ‘run into you two’ out on a morning jog. Sam maintains that it was a total accident.

It wasn’t.

They ask you some questions and you answer politely. Natasha’s a little ticked off that they’re here but doesn’t say anything, just shoots them glares when you aren’t looking. Eventually, you split up and head home, you waving goodbye and Natasha grumbling under her breath.

“I like them.” You say, catching her off-guard. “If all your friends are like that then I can’t wait to meet them.”

Next day your home and hear a knock at the door. When you open it, a short brunette kid is staring up at you. He looked at you and his eyes widened. He almost seemed shocked you had opened the door.

“Hello there. I’m Peter and I’m here to…. Check the…. Check for…. Gas! I want to check on your gas pipes! I’m in the area surveying gas pipes!!” He said, clearly lying. You recognized the name but it took you a second to place it.

“Peter? As in…. Peter Parker? The Arachnid kid?”

“It’s… It’s Spiderman. How’d you know? Did Natasha tell you? She promised not to!”

You raised your hands in surrender. “No, I put it together myself. A kid gets a Stark internship and starts hanging out with Tony Stark, and at the same time, Iron Man gets a new, smaller, younger-looking sidekick? Doesn’t take a genius, man.”

“…. I’m not his sidekick…”

“Whatever… Did Tony Stark send you here?”

“…No.”

“You’re an awful liar. Come in, I’ll teach you. I just made Hot Chocolate.”

Later that day Natasha comes home to see Peter curled up on the couch watching movies with you. He purposefully avoids her glance. She knows.

You look up at her, one arm slung around Peters' shoulders. “Nat, I better meet your friends or they’re never going to stop turning up in our life.”

So, you do, at the next huge Stark party. Despite it being a Stark party, all the attention was on you, which was a strange new experience. They seem to really like you. They approve of your influence on Natasha and firmly believe you love her, which you do.

You patch her up after fights, no matter how much she complains.

“Y/N, I’m a grown woman, I can patch my own bullet wounds.”

“I know you can but you shouldn’t have too. You’ve got a girlfriend for that.”

She lies back and grumbles. You know she’s really feeling angry at herself for getting hurt and making you worry and you’re trying to help her.

You guys have spoken about adopting a child, a little girl most likely, but have made the decision to wait until you’re both out of the dangerous jobs you’re in and can fully cater too, support and protect a child in your care.

Until then, it’s just the two of you, which is absolutely perfect.

[bodhimcbodeface]

I wrote me some very soft Build boys, as a sort of response to @cheesethesecond‘s fic

Set after the finale.

Banjou isn’t sure at first what woke him up. The cold, maybe, or the traffic outside this crappy room they’ve been renting, or his own head; he was never all that good at sleeping through the night, even before. He stretches his toes out to the edge of the bed, giving a satisfied groan, then rolls onto his side to try again.

That’s when he hears the whimpering.

Sento is turned to the wall, knees curled tight against his chest, trembling almost imperceptibly. Almost. The idiot keeps trying to be unobtrusive, and Banjou kind of wants to roll his eyes, and kind of wants to punch him in his stupid face, but mostly just wants to hold him tight enough to squeeze all the hurt out of him.

“Hey.” He offers a whisper, trying not to startle him. “Hey. Sento.”

Sento stiffens at his name. “Go back to sleep.”

“Sento,” Banou repeats, softly but a little more insistent. He reaches out to touch his shoulder, and feels Sento flinch away from him.

“That bad, huh?”

“I said go back to sleep.”

Banjou prickles despite himself. “Yeah, maybe I don’t want to.”

“Please,” says Sento, his voice tight. “Go to sleep, Banjou.”

“You go to sleep!”

“I’m not…” Sento sighs, and, exasperated, rolls over to face him.

Banjou stares at him in shock. Even in the dim light he can see that Sento’s face is pale and tear-streaked, aching and shattered.

He blinks. His voice comes out as a whisper. “Sento. What did you dream about?”

Sento twists up his face and sobs.

Banjou catches him, pulling him into his chest effortlessly, cupping a hand around the back of his head. Even as he does so, he feels his muscles tense with anger because none of this is right. Sento should never look like this, should never feel like this. He should never have been built for the purpose of being broken, should never have been made to carry the weight of everyone he couldn’t save. He should never have taken the world onto his shoulders— but then again, he wouldn’t be Sento if he didn’t.

Tense and fierce and protective, he wraps his arms around Sento a little tighter, and lets him cry into his chest until the tears soak through shirt, until he finds himself shaking, too, shaking with grief and rage for the broken man who built them all up.

“Banjou,” says a muffled voice from his chest. “Ah--you’re hurting me.”

He takes a breath, forcing his arms to loosen. “Sorry.”

“You need to be more careful, Musclebrain,” Sento says, and the slight smile in his voice takes a load off Banjou’s chest.

“I didn’t realize you were so delicate,” he retorts.

Sento laughs weakly, lingering a moment longer in Banjou’s arms before shifting himself up so they’re lying face to face. Banjou reaches out to wipe a tear from Sento’s eye, and is relieved when Sento lets him. He runs a thumb beneath the other eye then, slowly, patiently, waiting for him to speak.

“In my dream...” he says after a moment, “In my dream I was Katsuragi. I was hurting our friends. I was hurting you.”

“That’s not real, Sento, not anymore. None of it ever happened.”

“Then how come I can still see their faces?”

Banjou can only nod, because he knows all too well what it is to be haunted by ghosts: Kasumi, fading away in his arms; children screaming in the street at the start of the war; Sento, crying out in pain for three damn days in a useless hospital; Sento beaten to a pulp again; Sento on the ground, eyes wide with the realization that he’d killed a man, and vomiting in the sink after Banjou took him home, and sitting on the edge of the bed, his only movement to shrug off the blanket Misora had laid over his shoulders...

Banjou shakes his head to stop his thoughts running wild, then takes either side of Sento’s face with increased urgency.

“So it happened,” he says. “So it’s real enough. But that’s not who you are anymore, okay? Because if that happened, then so did everything else, so did everything that makes you Sento.”

“That doesn’t make up for it.”

“Of course it does! Please, I can’t keep watching you...You undid the damage. You undid the war. Hell, you saved the world, Sento, isn’t that enough?”

“I...I don’t...”

“And you saved me.”

And maybe it’s selfish, but Banjou hopes that might mean something more to him, more than the damage undone, more even than the world.

Sento kisses him, proving him right.

He smiles wide under Sento’s lips, relieved and proud and above all grateful for the privilege of being there for him.

Sento pulls away. “Stop smiling like that and actually kiss me back,” he says.

“Make me.”

“Tomorrow,” he says, settling his head against Banjou’s shoulder. It’s clear that exhaustion has taken him, and he himself feels drained as well; maybe they’ll both sleep till morning. “Tomorrow I’ll make sure you pay me back for it.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” says Banjou, wrapping an arm around him, glad to feel the steadying rise and fall of his chest.

“Thank you,” he says, his eyes closed, his face looking almost peaceful. “Thank you, Banjou.” It’s clear from the way he speaks that the teasing has stopped.

Banjou doesn’t think he’ll ever quite understand how he’s the one being thanked.

[reesewestonarchive]

chapter seven / rem belongs to @forlornraven / masterpost / mature content

Twenty five cents seems so much heavier than it should. A weight in his pocket, in his palm, and Nakoa knows getting the heaviness from him will only make him feel better, but…

He still can’t pick up the receiver.

Rain pelts against the side of the phone booth, and Nakoa shivers. Across the street, Rem sits in the van, his feet kicked up on the dashboard, smoking. Nakoa can just barely make him out through the foggy window panes.

They haven’t talked all morning. Not even so much as a hello.

With shaking fingers, Nakoa drops the coins into the payphone and lifts the receiver. Dials home, and waits.

If his father picks up, Nakoa will hang up. He’ll return to the car, he’ll ride off into the sunset with Rem. If his father picks up, Nakoa won’t listen, won’t even speak. He’ll let the fucker wonder.

“Hello?”

It’s his mother. Nakoa’s heart clenches, nausea twists his stomach into knots. He voice cracks a, “Mom?” and he feels twelve years old again, the first time Michael hit him. Donna says nothing, though, so Nakoa says, “Did I lose you…?”

“No, one moment, let me get a pad…” Then, distantly, “Just someone from work, Michael, I’ll take this in the other room.”

Relief spreads through his veins, and his eyes burn with unshed tears. She’s keeping him from Michael, and—he chokes out a laugh. Thinks if she’s stood up for him years ago, this wouldn’t have happened.

“Nakoa,” she says, her voice watery and weak. “Are you okay? I won’t ask where you are, but are you okay? Do you need money? I can—” She pauses. “I don’t know how I would get it to you, but I /could/, sweetheart, I could.”

Nakoa grips the receiver, closes his eyes tight against the onslaught of tears. Fuck. “I didn’t—No, Mom, I’m fine. Are you okay?”

A sigh of relief. “Now I know you’re safe, yes.” Another pause. “Why did you leave?”

“Don’t—this isn’t. I’m not—” He leans his head against the phone box. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I miss you so much,” Donna says. It feels like Michael’s hands around his throat, hearing her words. “I wish you would come home.”

“I can’t. You know I can’t.” He swallows. “I just wanted to let you know I’m okay. Okay?”

“You’ll visit, though, won’t you?”

Fear grips him tight around the throat. “No—I can’t—” Once upon a time, Nakoa thought maybe he’d never get out of his father’s sight. Now that he has, the idea of ever seeing him again…

He looks back at the van, at Rem playing air guitar in the driver’s seat. “I’ll—I’ll call again, okay?”

“Nakoa, wait!” Donna hesitates, then says, “He has people looking for you. You know your father is an influential man, I just… please be careful.”

People—why the fuck would Michael care about it. Why would he waste resources on finding his own fuck up of a son?

Nakoa shakes, anxiety rocking him apart. “I gotta go. Love you, bye.”

He slams the phone down in its cradle harder than he needs to, steps out of the phone box, and stumbles to the van. The rain’s at a downpour now, and when Nakoa climbs in the passenger seat, next to Rem, he’s soaked.

“How’d it go?” Rem asks, turning down the music. Then, seeing Nakoa’s expression, asks, “Hey, what the fuck—what’s wrong?”

Nakoa’s throat feels tight, tears burning at the corner of his eyes again. He blinks, says, “Nothing,” but then Rem’s hand is on his shoulder and Nakoa breaks.

His sobs are silent, quiet things sung to the backdrop of The Cure, and Rem pulls Nakoa into a hug, awkward from the angle but no less appreciated. He speaks against Nakoa’s ears, but the blood roars too loudly in his ears to be heard.

Searching for him. Nakoa thinks about the stories Rem’s told him, about the guy with a bat, the windshield, and, when he can speak, Nakoa asks, “Did you know?”

“Know what?” But Rem sounds sufficiently confused, and Nakoa doesn’t want to believe he’d lie to him, so he decides he doesn’t believe it. “Hey.”

Nakoa doesn’t look at him. Thinks back to all the stupid shit he’s said and done, the mixtape, leaving in the first place without a plan. “Rem.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m here.” His voice is soft, and in the storm, Nakoa thinks this is the safest he’s ever felt. Locked away from the world in Rem’s arms.

Maybe it’s how lost he feels, maybe it’s Rem’s breath warm against his neck, but Nakoa still feels safe enough to say, “I think I’m in love with you.”

It doesn’t hurt to say them. Nakoa’s not sure if it’s because he already hurts so much, another piece of it won’t make it worse, or if it’s…

Rem’a lips brush against his neck, soft, softer than Nakoa’s used to from him, but he says nothing. After their morning, Nakoa’s surprised by his closeness, surprised by how easily he came to Nakoa, but.

“I’m an idiot,” Rem says.

Nakoa blinks. “That’s not exactly the response a guy wants to hear.” Rem laughs. “Neither is that.”

“It’s not… badly received, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Rem clears his throat, pulls away. “…you’re…that’s…”

“I wasn’t going to say it,” Nakoa says. “That’s what the tape was for. Kind of let you figure it out on your own.” Without Rem’s body heat, the van’s cold. Nakoa reaches for the knob for the heater, fingers shaking again. “I didn’t wanna fuck this up.”

Rem’s voice is soft when he says, “You wouldn’t have fucked it up. Hell, if I haven’t fucked it up…”

But commitment’s a different storm than… whatever it is they’ve been doing. Intertwined, but Nakoa knows the feelings he gets from Rem, but he’s wanted to fuck plenty of people. Rem goes farther than that.

He always has.

“Hey,” Rem says, knocking his elbow against Nakoa’s. “We’ll figure this out. That’s what we do, right?”

Figure it out. A weight settles in Nakoa’s chest. “Right.” He turns away. The van no longer feels like home, but like a prison. Maybe he was better off at home, under Michael’s thumb, or…

With a frustrated sigh, Rem says, “I’m not. I don’t mean—”

“Can we just not talk about it? Forget I said anything.”

“I can’t say it back.” Rem gives a frustrated groan. “I’ll get there, okay, I will. Just, this is important. You’re important.”

Nakoa certainly doesn’t feel that way. He clears his throat, wipes a hand down his face, and says, “Can we just go?”

-

He splurges for a hotel on the coast. It takes half of what Nakoa has left, but it’s worth it for two nights of the view of the ocean, for two nights with the salty breeze.

For two nights of Rem getting decent rest in his own bed.

They arrive at 9am to the hotel. Nakoa’s kept his distance for a while, after his accidental confession, and he hasn’t touched Rem without being touched since. He’s passed out in the passenger seat, instead of sleeping with Rem on the mattress, because the closeness feels wrong in the aftermath of Nakoa’s words.

But he steps out of the van and closes his eyes at the wind coming off the ocean, and feels peace. Water droplets spray his face, and Nakoa imagines what it might be like to drift away on waves like these, away from Michael, from money and the concern of where they’re going to sleep next.

Rem takes two towels from their room for the beach, and Nakoa disappears with a fake ID to the nearest liquor st to surprise him with a bottle of whiskey.

“Aw,” Rem says, twisting the top off. Behind him a sign reads, NO ALCOHOL ON BEACH. Rem downs half the small bottle and hands the rest to Nakoa. “You spoil me.”

Nakoa shrugs, downs the rest of it.

With the people around, Nakoa keeps to himself a little more, thankful for the excuse. Still, Rem has other ideas. “No one knows us here,” Rem says, against Nakoa’s neck. “We could fuck on the beach if you wanted.”

“And get thrown into jail?” Nakoa snorts. “Actually, fucking you might be worth the public indecency charge.”

Rem’s mouth is warm at his neck, sends shivers down Nakoa’s spine. “You think you can take me?” His voice is low, rough against Nakoa’s ear.

“Bold words,” Nakoa says, but instead of turning around and pulling him into a kiss, Nakoa elbows him in the ribs and ducks away, laughing as he takes off down the beach.

They settle, finally, a good distance away from the others. Nakoa slathers sunscreen across Rem’s back after he writes ‘fuck me’ with the lotion, feels the reverberation of Rem’s voice against his own hands as Rem speaks.

“I thought we could head back through the mountains, right? Montana, then through North Dakota.”

Nakoa wants to tell him they should go back to Colorado, but the place still has Nakoa checking over his shoulder, so maybe not. Maybe this is best, this haphazard map searching.

“Maybe settle in for a week somewhere,” Rem says. “Get a job or something.”

“You mean I get a job. When was the last time you held down anything?”

Rem shoots him a look over his shoulder, reaching for the lotion. “Depends. When was the last time I fucked you?” He pushes Nakoa back against the towel, bites at his neck. “I miss handcuffs.”

Through the fog building in his head and the heat building in his stomach, Nakoa says, “You lost the keys last time!”

“They were plastic!”

“You had to cut me out of them with wire cutters,” Nakoa says, but he’s grinning. Rem’s pressing kisses along his torso as he goes down, his hands holding him up, sinking into the sand. Nakoa really doesn’t want sand in his business anymore than strictly necessary. “I’d rather not be locked up and at your mercy for the rest of my life.”

“No?”

“Gotta have my fun too, don’t I?” For a few seconds, he just stares into Rem’s eyes, hoping, searching… until Rem pulls back with a goofy grin, and the world rights itself.

“What?” Rem’s eyes are shining.

Nakoa shrugs. “Nothing, just…” His gaze drifts, over Rem’s eyes, his hair, his tattoos—down the horizon, down the beach, across the water. From their spot in the sand, it’s hard to see anyone at all. They’re almost completely hidden by a small spot on the beach which is hidden by rocks. Rem has a mischievous glint in his eye, and he unbuttons Nakoa’s jeans, fingers moving so slow Nakoa can barely handle it, before Nakoa shoves him away with a laugh.

“Come on!”

“I’m not fucking you here,” Nakoa says, grinning like a fucking fool at Rem. He thinks about the mixtape, about Rem’s response. He thinks about what Rem had said about not being able to say it back.

He thinks about Rem, about how much Nakoa does love him, in spite of his bullshit, in spite of the shitty things that he drags them through.

Nakoa’s hands ache for a joint, and all he wants to do is get high and fuck, slow and leisurely, until Nakoa’s not sure where he ends and Rem begins, but Rem, here, sober and smiling and pleased…

He’ll take it.

Rem covers him in sunscreen and presses open mouthed kisses along Nakoa’s shoulders, then pulls him up against a rock and leans against one of the shadowed sides. Sunglasses sit atop Rem’s nose, blocking out the sun. He’s already turning red, though, Rem.

With a longing glance towards the water, Nakoa crawls up to lie beside Rem. He sinks into the warm sand, like a backrub against his muscles, cramped from the van. If he lifts his head, just a little, he sees Rem.

The warmth, the breeze, the distant sound of kids playing. Rem sitting at his feet, his breathing quiet and steady.

It’s more like this than it isn’t, but it’s still not often enough that Nakoa won’t take the brief respite from the bullshit.

Nakoa dozes. Dreams of small ocean-side cottages and sex in motel rooms, in resorts. Working at a job he doesn’t hate, of Rem’s smile and his laugh and the cadence to his voice when he’s trying to turn Nakoa on (so, always).

When he wakes, Rem’s fucking with a Walkman, fumbling tapes between his fingers. “Hey,” he says, nudging Nakoa with his foot. “Come here.”

So Nakoa goes, because he always goes, settles in between Rem’s legs, his back to Rem’s chest, and waits for Rem to plop the Walkman in his lap. Rem shoves the headphones on over Nakoa’s ears and says, “Listen. Yeah?”

His hand brushes down along Nakoa’s arm, and, after hesitating for just a second, Rem presses play.

[solidburnreturned]

all the odds for pepper!!

HOO okay I’ll put this under a read more lol

1. What is their gender?

she’s a cis girl

3. What is the meaning behind their name? Do they have any nicknames?

pepper just means pepper! spicy!! her full name is pepper braxton jane :0 she’s got a lot of nicknames lol,, pep, stud, pepperoni, and PB&J (her initials)

5. What’s their relationship with their parents like? What about other relatives?

she loves her parents a lot!! her relationship with marney is a little more strained because of how protective marney is and because pepper was such a big troublemaker in her teens. she gets along better with topaz and listens to her more :0 her other relatives are her uncle toni and her cousin eve, who she gets along with great! her and eve are like sisters

7. Are they in a romantic relationship? With who? How did they meet?

in the future she gets together with mack of course, who she met one night at a pop-up party. mack was one of nova’s performers and pepper just became super infatuated with her and just fell in love with her as they became better and better friends

9. What is their favorite color? Favorite animal?

she likes RED and loves animals in general!! but has a soft spot for raspurrs (a cat creature that looks like a fluffy little cloud with feet and a tail)

11. If they could make a mark on history, what would they like it to be?

she would like to bring more love into the world,, shes all about that lovey dovey shit

13. What do they do for fun?

she works out, does spoken poetry, plays string instruments (violin, bass, guitar, etc), and works on/rides her motorcycle!! and eats njdkf

15. What was something their parents taught them?

to always be kind and not be JADED 

17. Where were they born?

at the troll tree, just before the big escape! 

19. What is their occupation?

happy lil mechanic!

21. What is their favorite thing about their personality?

she thinks she’s pretty profound sometimes :^) and very romantic!

23. Do they get lonely easily?

yes 100% yes 

25. What is their biggest flaw?

she tends to not care enough about herself? and can be a lil gross/a slob sometimes

27. What is their biggest strength?

cares a lot!! big heart!!

29. How would they describe their own personality?

she’s not very good at describing herself lol but after a lot of “uhhh…ummm…” she’d probs say that shes a kind and gentle soul who’s good with romance lol

31. Does this character ever put somebody else’s needs before their own? Who do they do this for? How often do they do this?

yeah she does that a lot with mack especially, which mack rly doesnt like tbh. she tries not to do it a lot but its kinda just automatic for her cause shes a little love blind

33. What is their biggest fear? How would they react to having to face it?

she has a big fear of getting seriously hurt again, like breaking her legs or getting another TBI. if that were to happen it would probably cause a big relapse with her ptsd and depression :( maybe another little grey period

35. What is the easiest way to annoy them?

OOF being persistently loud pisses her off, mixed signals, persistent cynicism, stuff like that. interrupt her once and she’ll be pissed off the whole time u talk lol

37. How easy is it for them to say “I love you”? Do they say it without meaning it?

she says it a lottttt but she always means it! but its not always easy for her to say, especially if its like. a love confession

39. What does their happily ever after look like?

having a couple kids with mack and living together in a cozy lil pod with some cute pets and a rly big bed uvu

41. What does their laugh sound like? Do they snort when they laugh? How often do they laugh?

loud, barkish, throw-her-head-back kinda laugh or just a soft chuckle there is no in between. she DOES snort when she laughs and it makes her laugh more! and she rly likes to laugh so she laughs as much as she can, shes p easy to amuse

43. What is their least favorite thing about their physical appearance?

def her scars, especially the one on her face. shes not fond of her lil belly sometimes either tbh 

45. How would they describe their own appearance?

she would def brag about her muscles first lol then, more quietly, say shes short and a lil chubby with big hair and a big nose. maybe mention her piercings and tattoos, pointy tooth, and notch in her eyebrow. she’d get more detailed the more she thinks about it lol

47.  What’s their pain tolerance like?

pretty high tbh? she can take some pain

49. Do they have any piercings?

yep!! tips of her ears have two each, one on the right lobe, two studs on the top of each ear, left nose stud, center lip ring, and a tongue stud

51. What is their height? Weight?

she’s 5 ½ inches tall (2 ½ of that is hair) and just for the sake of it being easier to understand, ill forget using ounces and say shes like 150 pounds

53. What is their hair color? Eye color? Skin tone?

her hair is greyish tan (kinda looks like light smoke??), her eyes are a darker red, and her skin is actually a rly deep, earthy shade of orange,, but she just says shes dark red lol 

55. What is their alcohol tolerance like? What kind of drunk are they? How bad are their hangovers?

pretty good tbh! she can have two beers and still be okay. shes a happy, loosey goosey drunk who just wants to snuggle and give compliments. she doesnt get hangovers often cuz she tries to drink responsibly but,, when she does get them she’s in bed all day or puking in the tub like a mess

#57 is a forbidden question

59. What does their resting face look like? Do they have RBF?

no she doesnt lol she looks just kinda chill or like shes daydreaming cause. she probs is

61. Which season is their favorite season?

winter!! when its perfectly reasonable to stay inside and snuggle up in bed all day

63. What is always guaranteed to make them smile?

already answered! :^)

65. What’s their immune system like? Do they get sick often? How do they react to getting sick?

it’s not bad! she gets sick once in a while but when she does its usually pretty rough for her and she turns into a big needy baby

67. Is their bedroom messy? What about their bathroom? Kitchen? Living room?

YEAH she’s v messy. her bedroom is the worst, the bathroom is okay, kitchen…she needs to wash her dishes and clean out her fridge. living room has a looooot of pillows and blankets lying around and her coffee table is kinda gross tbh throw that whole thing away

69. How did the people in their environment growing up affect their personality?

she made friends with a bunch of punks so she got deep into rowdy punk culture lol >:) and marney’s overprotectiveness pushed her to be more of a troublemaker. after her bike crash tho she had a major shift in personality and chilled out a LOT

71. How are they with children? Do they have any? Do they want any?

she’s good with kids but worries,, she inherited marney’s mama bear gene for sure. she eventually has kids with mack in their 30s but def wanted kids ever since falling in love with mack ;v;

73. Do they prefer the indoors or outdoors?

hmmmm she likes being inside cuz her cozy bed nest is there but will happily sit outside on a nice day so she can cook in the sun and get more freckles lol 

75. If given a blank piece of paper, a pencil, and nothing to do, what would happen?

lots of goofy little doodles of her cat probs, which she would then fold into a paper airplane and have too much fun with

77. What is their most prized possession?

HER MOTORCYCLE

79. What is their economic situation?

i think trolls barter with goods and services for the most part, so i guess this doesnt rly apply?? she does good with her mechanic job tho other trolls tend to not be super handy

81. Are they bothered by the sight of blood?

sometimes, especially her own

83. Can they swim? How well? Do they like to swim?

yeah she likes swimming! shes not awesome at it (her hair holds a lot of water and drags her down eventually) and would rather just relax on a tube

85. Do they believe in ghosts?

yeah lol u couldnt pay her to do a ouija board or anything like that

87. What is something they regret?

she def regrets riding dangerously on her motorcycle and getting into that crash

89. What is their D&D alignment?

lawful good!

91. If they were a tweet, what tweet would they be?

93. What’s the most iconic line of dialogue they’ve ever said?

when i was first designing pepper and showing her to my friends in an old trolls discord server, someone said “yum, bitch” and that became pepper’s catch phrase for a short while lol

[hisoillu-prompts]

Really long: Dragon AU

(sorry about paragraphs that seem rambly, this was me throwing ideas together. A fic that I was going to write but never got to it but it NEEDS to be made)

In which Hisoka is a dragon that terrorizes the kingdom of the Zoldycks, stealing livestock from farms, burning down towns, and killing all of their strongest warriors, including the ones sent to kill him. A truly fearsome beast indeed. 

They try to arrange for like a meeting with him but he doesnt show up the first time. Of course, the Zoldycks get pissed and Kikyo would throw a fit because how dare that vile creature, but they would call him again and again and just out of one part boredom and one part annoyance, hisoka would show up. Of course, despite how irritated they are, the two heads(most Silva since Kikyo is still internally fuming) would try to negotiate. But although interested in the gold they offered, Hisoka declines everything(as he does what he does for entertainment).

They ask him what he wants. He seems to think for a bit before asking for the whole household to gather in front of him. After looking, he picks killuia(that white haired kid of yours) since he thought he'll be the strongest/have the most potential(so they can fight lol). He doesnt really notice Illumi because he was kinda in a corner and is basically a shadow(as always), but Kikyo offers up illumi instead(he's my oldest[son]) because of course Hisoka cant take the heir- and Hisoka is would just be like 'eh sure he should be pretty strong too' and decides to let killuia 'ripen'. 

-a kinda transgression by having it sort of from the servants point of view? like 'the eldest prince, Illumi, was very...strange, even in his particularly weird  family. (Mention how he was like robot, empty dark home eyes, almost no emotion, follows orders, has a terrible empty aura kinda feeling, and is creepily good at fighting and killing) i have no idea im sorry

But when he actually gets Illumi the next day or something he's kinda like 'oh u arent scared' and Illumis like 'nah. Now what do u wanna do with me like srsly'

Illumi really longs for his house at first and is sort of at a loss at what to do without any orders, so he kinda just sits around and misses his bed and waits for Hisoka to get back or something. He’s glad that he was taken in place of killuia, as long as his family(and heir) were safe. 

-He eventually adjust, realizing that the silence in the cave really wasnt that new or different than in the castle

-Hisoka terrorizes a new town instead to make up his part of the bargain(although he goes back in his human form to see whats up sometimes) and its like most of the time he would just walk around in his human form as it was more convenient to fight people and yet not get him kicked out/ have to deal with the bother of people shouting at him for being a dragon and waving pitchforks and stuff, but he was kinda going for a chillaxing time when he decided to dragon form wreck Illumis kingdom. He had heard that it was a very strong kingdom of assassins, fairly famous, and he had decided to blow off some steam fighting, and he wasn't disappointed. Much.But anyway Illumi's kingdom was a little out of the way for him, he had to take longer time to reach there, the mountainous kingdom. Dragons all had one cave, unless they wanted to move their treasures to another one/ had another cave just for other treasures. His cave took almost 7/9 hours to fly to from the Zoldyck kingdom, and dragons flew pretty fast.

The Zoldyck family of assassins are basically a miniature kingdom, small with a town underneath their mountain that they protect. The town is relatively normal, with most everyone looking up to the deadly family looking after them. But there are some that try to train to become assassins with the zoldycks as inspiration(maybe they sponsor an assassin guild for the smaller kills they dont bother wasting time with).

-A random asshole villager dude saw illumi in town once with a disguise(as a female) and fell in ‘love’ and trains to be an assassin to rescue her(him) from the dragon. Inwardly he also wants to get into the zoldyck family as well, thinking he can if he impresses them with his rescue of illu and then marrying 'her'. Access to all that wealth and power made one considered untouchable. Illu is disgusted when he hears about this and claims that such a weakling wouldnt last a second in the presence of him nor his family.

-Anyway They both go to town together sometimes. In disguises of course, or if Illumi needs groceries

-eventually they just fall into an easy pattern and be friends and include a scene where Hisokas like 'alright Illu get ready another knight is here to rescue you(because they think you're a girl cough cough) and Illumis kinda just reading a book and letting out the occasional 'frightened(more like monotone) scream from his 'prison'(a giant birdcage cuz Hisoka is flashy as fuck) and the knight is kinda like 'ok that didnt sound like a very convincing scream/her voice isnt that great but i heard her beauty was astounding' -anyway so like Hisoka fuckin rekts him of course and one time a knight actually goes "RELEASE PRINCESS ILLUMI' and Hisoka smirks and Illumi twitches and after the knight is turned into crisps Hisoka turns to Illumi with a shit eating grin like "so i guess youre a princess. You never told me.."And Illumis just like fuck you

(very optional/not really fitting angst)

angst in how Kikyo gave up Illumi(the eldest. The strongest of the children. The one whos been with her the longest.) for Killuia, proving that she cared about him more. 'Or maybe it was because he was older, and this was just one of his responsibilities. But he couldn't help the foreign feeling of something shallowly sinking in his chest' Illumi still is kinda obsessed with Kil, but its more because he was suppose to be the heir and also Mil was kinda a bad child and Illumi actually was lonely so kil played with him a lot but their relationship slowly twisted into a sort of love hate for Illumi. Because even though he didnt care too much about the crown, he did care for his family. Although he wouldnt admit it; and his training refused to show a slip in his mask, Illumi did feel strangely empty when his family rained affection on Kil and only turned to him with orders on their lips. But no it couldnt be jealousy, no WAY would he be jealous of his younger bro! Hahaha! (Just keep telling yourself that, Ill)

(optional random angst end)

-Hisoka considers Illumi part of his 'treasure'/hoard and as all dragons are, he is fiercely protective of his hoard. Not that any thief could make it past Illumi, much less hurt him too much.

-when people describe illumi as 'beautiful and skilled' everyone always assumes that 1. Illu is a woman, and 2, 'skilled' meant as in embroidery or the such. Not in fighting/killing/assassinating. Not that he cant do embroidery because fuck yeah he can and frick yeah does it look good.So everyone is surprised when they see him decked out in armor with a blade pointed at their throat

-illumi like dies or almost dies and is turned into a dragon? Very rare, something about dragons being magical beings - anything can happen blah blah hisoka’s magic dragon magic infused into his body and now he’s filled with dragon magic that his strong will and body and mind turned into his own magic (i dont know where this idea came from, or really how else to explain it- just that past me had a good idea in mind that I now can’t remember)

-sleek, completely black dragon with blue gleam in scales if light hit them just right and sharp, wicked spines/spikes. All sharp angles and sharp lines, like any move can cut someone into ribbons. Deadly. He made hisoka, who was by no means a cuddly looking dragon, look almost soft-but despite misleading appearances, hisoka was definitely the more dangerous. What he lacked in looks he made up for in sheer brute strength and cunning.maybe stronger fire range too.

- illumi breathes blue flames, much much hotter. But small range. And could not stay in dragon form for long since originally human and originally not his dragon magic(it was like oxygen, reusable, but still limited).  Both of them had hard scales

If you looked carefully, you could tell. Hisoka was taller, bigger, you could see muscles rippling through every limb. Illumi lurked more in the shadows, looking slightly bored. .

[taetaejoah]

Chapter 5

Jungkook woke with a start.

He had dreamt about that day. Of broken pipes, betrayal, and a boy so full of rage. A relentless and repetitive nightmare that left him feeling less rested than when we was awake. Tormenting him. Reminding him.

You saved me.

Liar.

Liar.

Liar.

He groaned into the floor and pulled his legs to his chest. He could feel the chill morning air creeping against his skin and he longed for blankets he didn’t have. He shivered and turned around to check on the boy a few feet away from him.

It was early. He was still asleep. Thank god.

Getting up off the floor Jungkook stood in search of something to do, something to take his mind off the guilt. He helped himself to a can of cold soup, a reminder that he needed to build a fire if he ever wanted an actual warm meal. At least he had food.

Jimin shifted in his sleep and Jungkook froze on the spot.

Liar.

The voice in his head spat at him and he winced internally.

You didn’t mean to. He tried to reason with his mind. You were only trying to protect him.

But it did little to quell the suffocating feeling in his chest. It had been 4 days since he ran into that abandoned house. 4 days of amity built on mutual understanding of the effects of isolation. He had stumbled upon a boy so fractured and broken, a victim of his own mind, unceremoniously stripped of happiness.

The boy had looked frantic, searching desperately for a reason to live, and had found none. 

Jungkook knew all too well what happened to fragile minds, so he lied. A simple exclusion of information to safeguard the remnants of the others boy’s sanity.

Now he was left to fear what happened when the truth inevitably surfaced.

He realized how quiet it was then. And the silence rang through his ears, buzzing like an unwanted pest, remedied only slightly but the occasional crack of thunder in the distance. It was soothing, and his full stomach was lulling him back towards sleep, back towards nightmares.

He needed something to do, needed to keep busy, needed to be distracted. He scoured the shelves until he found a pen and paper and then he began to write.

He owed his sister a letter.

Jimin was elated. Months and months of suffocating silence and suddenly he was no longer alone. It was like waking up and realizing that it was christmas. A never ending present of companionship that left his heart soaring. He tried to hide it though, not wanting to come off as creepy or too needy. But then again, what was too needy in an apocalypse?

He had spent the majority of their days  squeezing every last drop of information from Jungkook. Now that he had someone to talk to, he was keenly aware that he was unable to shut up.

They spoke of mostly trivial things, the kind of conversations you would have at forced family reunions. Hobbies, interests, likes and dislikes. The discussion never veered into anything more consequential. Having company had cast a sort of magical lightness upon their situation and neither of them wanted to see it ruined by bringing up anything overtly grave.

In fact the only reason they had actually begun a serious conversation had happened by accident, out of panic.

“Why yellow?” Jimin had asked one evening while they munched on a large packet of M&M’s, opting to save the healthier food for a later date.

“Hmmm?” The boy hummed in response.

“You never eat the yellow ones, you did the same thing with the jellies yesterday.”

Jungkook shifted uncomfortably in his seat and gave a noncommittal shrug. “No reason. Just a habit I guess.”

Jimin arched his brow. “...that’s a weird habit to have. Do you not like the color?”

“It’s not that deep.” Jungkook shot back and Jimin was surprised that his tone was no longer friendly.

“Is it your favorite?”

Jungkook didn’t reply.

“You know the color has nothing to do with the taste, they-” he continued reaching out for the pile of yellow candies.

“I said it’s nothing!”  Jungkook snapped. Hitting the candies and causing them to scatter across the floor. “I told you it’s just a habit.”

“Oh” he let out a nervous laugh and placed his hand behind his head. “yeah duh, i’ve got weird habits too. Loads of them. I think fainting is my new favorite” He looked to Jungkook and was relieved to see a bit of his smile had returned.

Jungkook was lying, that part was obvious enough, but Jimin didn’t pry. He wasn’t about to lose his only source of sanity over a color. He opted instead to change the subject.

“Where should we go? Once I’m healed?” He smacked himself internally. Way to avoid heavy topics Jimin.

Jungkook went rigid.

“You want to leave?” Jimin could hear the wavering tone in his voice and wished with all his might that he could reverse time and eat his words.

“Well sleeping on the tile isn’t the most comfortable…” he said slowly standing up from his spot and walking around the perimeter of the snack aisle.

“There’s food here though.” Jungkook countered lifting his eyebrows a bit when Jimin let out a soft sigh. “And hard surfaces are supposed to be good for your back.”

“I miss having a bed.” Jimin sighed and took a bag of chips off the shelf. “And the door doesn’t even close here anymore. If the wind changes we risk getting wet anyway.”

“It’s dangerous.” Jungkook mumbled.

“The world is dangerous.”

“That’s not an excuse to put yourself in danger. I like it here.” Jungkook stood now too and made his way towards Jimin “plus you’re hurt.”

Jimin scoffed. “I’m fine now.” he hit his stomach to emphasize his point. “Anyways, look” He turned his direction towards the window outside and pointed, “That house looks nice, and it’s not far from here. We can make it if we help each other out.”

“I don’t like it.” Jungkook crossed his arms, keenly aware that he was being defiant now for the sake of it. “It’s too far away from...” but his voice trailed off and he opted instead to stare outside the window.

He considered him for a second before he spoke. On closer examination Jimin thought he looked ill. There were dark shadows beneath his eyes and a thin papery look about his skin that he hadn’t noticed on first glance. He must’ve been looking for a while because the younger boy took a step back and gave him a puzzled look.

“What?”

“Have you been sleeping?” Jimin questioned, eyes still searching Jungkook’s face.

“Have I been-? Yeah I sleep fine. Why?”

“It’s just, you look pale.” He said furrowing his eyebrows together.

“Ah, well,” Jungkook chuckles and and nods his head towards the direction of the window. “I don’t get out much.”

“Shut up.” Jimin reaches out to push him but Jungkook dodges it with ease. “I know you don’t sleep well here, I hear you sometimes, in the middle of the night.”

Jungkook can feel his heart beating in his eardrums and hopes his face doesnt give him away. He’s defensive again and his words comes out harsher than he intends them to.”I told you I sleep fine.”

If Jungkook looks suspicious Jimin doesn’t see it, instead he reaches out and pats the younger boys head with a soft smile.

“It’s okay to be scared Jungkook.” his voice is low and gentle. “But we need to leave here, it isn’t safe. Let’s go to bed, we can plan tomorrow.”

Jimin makes to turn around and lay down but Jungkook doesn’t move. His mind is racing and he feels like he might pass out.

They can’t leave. He hasn’t said goodbye. Hasn’t delivered his letters. What if he’s wrong. What if she’s still there. What if Jimin finds out. This spot is safe. This spot is neutral. Jungkook feels like he might throw up.

Jimin grabs his hand, snapping him out of his thoughts  and ushers him towards their spots on the floor. His voice is calm and sweet like honey.  “Don’t worry, nothing will hurt you. If anything happens I’ll save you, remember?”

And Jungkook can feel the pieces of heart begin to shatter.

a/n: hey guys sorry this update took so long! I’ve been studying for law school and had work a lot this week! I hope you enjoy it though! As always kudos and comments are welcome... I don’t get any asks but I am rather curious if any of you have questions/concerns/want to rant. Thank you again for taking time out of your day to read!

x Elle

[botanistlester]

Sweet Pea (17/34)

Summary: A nickname that goes bitter in your mouth. Cries for help that no one listens to. Gentle hands that make you quake on the ground you’re standing on. When Phil first met Nico, he thought he was a gift from the heavens. But behind the mask lies something daunting, something unnerving, that Phil never foresaw. Through his journey, he finds solace in Dan, the regular at his workplace, who seems to be the only one who sees through Nico’s mask to the darkness underneath. Warnings: Abusive relationship, violence A/N: warnings for this chapter include anxiety and more angst. thanks to @snowbunnylester for editing this for me! The lyrics at the beginning of this fic are from the song Lantern by The White Birch!

I have started a patreon account for those of you who would like to support me and my writing endeavors! You can find my patreon account here, and also find more information about perks of this here!

Previous | Masterlist

Read it on AO3 Read it on Wattpad

-

Chapter Seventeen

I watched the lanterns tilt through days of darkened guilt. I prayed for newborn skies to lift me up so high.

-

Phil didn’t end up texting Chandler back that night.

Perhaps it was the fear; the fear that had never left him, digging under his skin, melding into his bones. It was a part of him now, tearing deep through his mind, ripping him to shreds until there was absolutely nothing left to be salvaged.

Dan had tried to patch him up as best as he could, stitching him up with affection, telling him how much he meant to him. He put plasters on Phil’s heart in the form of piano playing and reading aloud, except he wasn’t a surgeon and he didn’t seem to know where to put them, so Phil’s heart continued to shatter, crumbling to the floor like rotting wood. It was inevitable, and there was nothing Dan could do about it, but he tried his best anyway, picking up the broken pieces and trying to glue them back together, not caring that the same pieces kept crumbling and he was just repeating actions with no real resolution.

Nearly a week had passed before he finally decided to text Chandler back. He barely left his flat, only doing so when he had work. He was grateful for LaBella’s then, for not firing him when they heard about the police coming to Phil’s home, but also because they allowed him to change his hours to work lunches so he didn’t have to work with his ex best friend.

Since he’d quit school, he had a lot of free time. Since Dan still had school, Dan didn’t have a lot of free time. So Phil worked during the times when he would have school, and when Dan got out, Phil would cling to him like a static-filled blanket. Phil had turned into an actual child, but Dan never seemed to care. He was just too soft and caring for his own good, and Phil vowed to himself that he would make it up to Dan one day.

Phil was alone when he decided to finally man up and text Chandler. He refused to call her his best friend anymore, because he didn’t think that friends were supposed to screw their friends’ boyfriends. He took a deep breath, staring at Chandler’s name in his phone - he had long since deleted the threatening text because it hurt to much to look at it, but now he was ready.

He was ready to know what the fuck was going on.

So with his heart pounding hard in his chest, Phil typed out a message and sent it before he could talk himself out of it. As soon as he pressed the little send button, he threw his phone across the room, and hid under the blankets of his bed so he could hide from his problems.

Phil Lester - 1:54pm

Hi. Can you please explain to me what happened and why you decided to sleep with my boyfriend? I’m really hurt.

Even when he heard his phone chime from across the room, alerting him of a new message, Phil still didn’t look at it. He didn’t look at it until he had calmed down the racing in his veins and he could think just a tad more clearly. Only then did he stand up to grab his phone, closing his eyes before looking at the message, just so he could ground himself a little bit.

Chandler Jones - 1:56pm

I told you before. You werent appreciating him. You made him upset more than not. And then, after treating him like shit, you accused him of abuse? Youre so ungrateful and its no wonder he wanted to find someone better

Phil bit his tongue and fought against the dumb tears in his eyes. Stay strong.

Phil Lester - 1:57pm

You knew i loved him though. So why would you sleep with him when youre supposed to be my best friend? And why would you hide that from me?

Chandler Jones - 2:01pm

He didnt want me to tell you. And frankly he deserves better than you.

Phil Lester - 2:02pm

I thought you were my friend.

Chandler Jones - 2:04pm

Yeah well things change.. Get over it.

Phil set his phone down and pressed his palms into his eyes. He was quivering, had been quivering nonstop for a week now, and he couldn’t seem to stop it at all. Everything that he had known before Nico had come into his life had been torn down in a fortnight. He didn’t know who his friends were, didn’t know who he could trust.

Nico had taken all of that away from him.

Suddenly, he was angry. He wanted to kill, to cause destruction. He wanted to throw things against the wall, like the phone Nico had shattered only months ago. He wanted to grab Nico and scream at him, he wanted to shout about how he used to be normal, but now he couldn’t remember what ‘normal’ was, or how to get himself out of this awful funk he’s found himself in.

He was taken back to those few days at his mum’s house, those days where he was left in a limbo, unsure of where he stood with Nico. He had been empty, had dropped out of school, had gotten piercings that he knew Nico hated. He wasn’t himself anymore - he was this person, this machine, who was just doing things recklessly without feeling.

He felt like Nico had felt after his dad had gotten arrested. Without emotion, numb. He thought about how Nico had said there was no feeling in his chest aside from the numbness, and how he had no hope. Phil felt like that now. Devoid of hope. Devoid of emotion. Cold, reckless, uncaring.

He didn’t want to be like this, damn it. He just wanted to feel something again.

Without thinking about it, Phil grabbed his phone once more. He screenshotted his text messages and sent them to Dan with no context. He knew that Dan would understand. Afterwards, he deleted Chandler’s messages and the screenshots. He didn’t need them anymore, and he would rather not be reminded of what his friend had done to him.

He opened up a new text message, a blank slate, one for someone he had never messaged before. He narrowed his eyes as he typed up a message, ignoring Dan’s incoming text, ignoring a few extra messages from Charlie, who had been trying to text Phil every day to no reply. Phil was desperate. He needed to be wanted. He needed that hole in his chest to be patched up.

He needed to be normal.

Phil Lester - 2:15pm

Hey Jace! Sorry it took so long for me to text you. It’s Phil from the tattoo shop- you pierced my tongue and septum :-)

-

Jace Owens - 4:56pm

Do you want to get lunch with me this week?

Phil Lester - 4:57pm

Id be honoured :)

“You need to go outside.”

“I do not need to go outside right now.”

“Phil, you haven’t been out in like a week. It’s unhealthy.”

Phil glared at Dan from across the table, dropping his spoon into his bowl of cereal. If looks could kill, Dan would have dropped dead right then. He didn’t want to go outside. Didn’t Dan understand? Besides, he went out for work. That was enough for him. “I told you that I don’t need to go outside, Daniel.”

Jace Owens - 5:00pm

Yay! What kind of food are you into?

Dan sighed as Phil picked up his phone to read the text message he’d just gotten. It seemed like he was sighing more often than not these days. Phil was worried that Dan was getting tired of him, that he didn’t want to be here anymore. In all honesty, Phil wouldn’t blame him if that were the case. He knew that he wasn’t the best person to be around right now, so Phil would hold no grudges against Dan if he decided to get the hell out of their friendship.

But Dan didn’t say anything of the sort. Instead, he just smiled calmly at Phil, a patient expression on his face. Phil gave major props to Dan for never losing his cool with Phil. “We’re almost out of cereal,” Dan told him, the ‘we’ forming on his tongue like it was meant to be there. “So we should go to the store. Unless you really want to run out of Shreddies again?”

Phil Lester - 5:02pm

Anything that doesnt involve cheese, ill be good

Jace Owens - 5:03pm

so no pizza? Shame on you

Phil didn’t want to give in. He really fucking didn’t. With his eyes trained on Dan’s smiling face, he picked up the box of cereal and shook it lightly. Dan was right. The box was nearly empty, probably only a single bowl left. Phil knew that he needed to go to the store if he wanted to get his fill, and he growled through his teeth. “Fine,” he muttered, taking another angry bite of cereal. “But we grab everything and get out of there as quickly as possible. Deal?”

“Deal,” Dan responded, smiling widely. His eyes sparkled in the lighting of the kitchen.

Phil Lester - 5:09pm

Cheese is an exception on pizza

Jace Owens - 5:13pm

Then prepared to be pizza’d up!

Phil Lester - 5:15pm

My body is ready

-

After much complaining and grumbling on Phil’s part, Dan finally dragged him out of the flat with a hand on the small of his back and a long, hard look. Phil had spent the entire morning acting sick to his stomach, just so that he wouldn’t have to go outside, but Dan wasn’t having it. He had called Phil a liar. Phil wasn’t a liar. He just liked to twist the truth a little bit. He’s been feeling sick to his stomach all week, though it wasn’t necessarily directly connected to going to the store.

But now they were in the store and Phil felt like he was a walking funeral. His lips were set in a permanent grimace, his eyes downcast. He was dressed in all black today, which truly reflected what he was feeling. He let Dan throw groceries into the basket without paying attention to what was being put into it. He didn’t really care at the moment, just wanting to get this over with so he could go back home, bury himself under the blankets, and watch the entirety of Regular Show until his eyes fell out of his head. Yeah, that sounded like a good idea.

Dan was chatting about his classes and how he was trying to figure out his timetable for the next term. Phil didn’t really understand all of the theatre talk, but he liked the way that it made Dan waffle about, ranting about all of the things that he was interested in and excited for. Plus, it filled the silence, so Phil couldn’t really complain too much.

“Do you think you’ll ever enroll in uni again?” Dan asked nonchalantly, taking Phil off guard. Dan’s voice wasn’t judging at all. It was warm and inviting, which was the only reason Phil didn’t get mad at him, he reckoned.

Phil shrugged. Truth be told, he didn’t know what he wanted anymore. He wanted to enroll back in school, but he didn’t think he could handle going to the same university that Nico went to. He didn’t think he could pay attention in class or do his revisions or anything, really. At this point in his life, he just needed a break more than anything. Some time to himself, a way to just relax and worry about his own mental health. “I’m not sure,” Phil said quietly. He would voice all of his thoughts to Dan, but his tongue couldn’t seem to form the words. So instead he just murmured, “Maybe once I get out of this funk I’m in.”

Dan smiled brightly at him. It always seemed like whenever Phil couldn’t bring a smile to his face, Dan would always grin for the both of them. It was nice, but it made Phil feel guilty. He couldn’t help but feel as though Dan deserved better than this, that Dan shouldn’t be forced into the role of a fucking caretaker. “Well, just relax for now. You don’t have to worry about that for a while, okay?”

Phil was already planning on that. He didn’t really care in all honesty, so Dan’s reassurances didn’t do much for him. He appreciated the sentiment though. “Thank you,” Phil told him earnestly, giving him a tired half-smile.

He went to look back to the ground so he could continue walking with his head down, but he caught sight of a familiar head of blond hair before he could do so. His eyes widened and he shrunk down beside Dan, trying to blend in with Dan’s frame. His heart was nearly leaping out of his chest, bile rising in his throat. He needed to keep calm, damn it. “Hide me,” Phil hissed to a very confused Dan.

“Erm-?” Dan started, but he listened despite his confusion. He opened up his jacket and wrapped it around Phil’s shoulders, drawing him into his side without question. His eyes were looking around nervously, probably searching for the offending person, but Dan didn’t know who Ledjon even was, so he wouldn’t understand.

Dan was warm. He always was. Phil was always cold, so he liked being close to Dan. He was a bit like a vampire, sucking up all the heat he could get.

“What’s wrong?” Dan whispered to him, and Phil shook his head. They were getting a few weird looks from other shoppers, but Phil tried not to pay attention to them.

He couldn’t speak. He was far too anxious, too shaky, to try to even formulate any words. He would do anything to stop Ledjon from seeing him, even if that meant he had to start running at top speed as soon as he could. He kept his head down, his eyes flickering from side to side as if he could see anything from where Dan had tucked him under his shoulder. They probably looked completely and utterly ridiculous.

But that didn’t matter, and God hated him apparently, because suddenly there was a voice speaking beside him, and Phil nearly jumped out of his skin. “Phil? Is that you?”

Phil jumped backwards, knocking Dan backwards and nearly making him crash to the ground. He stared at Ledjon with his eyes wide, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. He didn’t want to be here. This is why he shouldn’t go outside. Damn Dan for making him do this when he wasn’t ready!

Dan caught his balance rather than falling, and stepped in front of Phil because apparently he was his bodyguard now. “Who are you?” Dan asked bluntly, and Ledjon cocked his head in confusion, his eyes flickering between Dan and Phil.

“Erm,” he started hesitantly. “I’m Ledjon? Are you two…?”

Phil shook his head and swallowed, trying to man himself up so he could actually speak and act like a normal fucking person for once. He needed to face his fears, no matter how much he would cry afterwards. “No,” Phil said flatly. He cleared his throat because his voice had come out a bit raspy and it made him sound like a fifty year old smoker. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m shopping,” Ledjon said nonchalantly. His eyes flickered back over to Dan and he pursed his lips. Dan was glaring at him with an aura of protectiveness, and Phil didn’t know how Ledjon didn’t burn to the ground under that gaze. “Can we… talk somewhere?”

“I really don’t think he wants to talk,” Dan interjected. Ledjon sighed and ran a hand through his blond hair. He seemed tired. “Look, Phil. I know about Nico. But I also know that you didn’t deserve what he put you through. So can we please just talk?”

Phil felt like the world had suddenly stopped. He stared at Ledjon, frozen, unable to formulate any of his thoughts. Instead, he gaped at him, his mouth slightly ajar. His head hurt. Ledjon knew? About Nico? But… what exactly did he know?

“Don’t do it if you feel uncomfortable,” Dan murmured quietly next to Phil, his voice soft and supportive. Phil was grateful for that. At least he knew that if he needed somebody to be there with him, then Dan would always support him.

Staying silent and gnawing on his lip would not help him this time. So with regret and mild curiosity, Phil opened his mouth. “Fine,” he said, a cold edge to his tone. He didn’t fully trust Ledjon, especially because Ledjon was Nico’s roommate. “But only if Dan can be there too.”

Ledjon cast a glance over at Dan, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Phil didn’t blame him. He knew that they looked very close, much closer than normal friends, but there was nothing he could do about it. Dan was his best friend, his protector, and if he made Phil feel safe then he was going to keep him around at all costs. “Okay,” Ledjon said eventually, drawing out the word. He didn’t quite understand, but he didn’t need to understand everything. “Did you want to grab a coffee or something?”

Phil looked in the basket at the cheeses and pasta and milk. He set the basket on a random shelf. “Sure,” he said quietly, despite the fact that they had just wasted their afternoon shopping and would need to come again later. He just wanted to get this over with.

They ended up at a little coffee shop around the corner from the stores. It was called The Cup and had a little steaming mug of coffee on the sign. Phil had never been there before, but he could tell by the lack of people inside that this was probably not the best coffee shop in the world. But still, it was coffee, and he couldn’t complain when Ledjon was offering to buy both of their drinks with a soft smile and the assurance that it was okay.

They sat at a round table by the window, and Phil found himself leaning into Dan, trying to get away from Ledjon the best that he could. He lifted his coffee to his lips, but his hands were shaking so badly that he ended up spilling it all over his shirt. Dan handed him a napkin without a word, giving him a soothing smile.

“So,” Ledjon started, watching as Phil dabbed at his shirt. Phil froze, because this was it. He was going to figure out what Ledjon wanted to talk to him about. “You and Nico broke up.”

It wasn’t a question, more of a statement. He wasn’t asking about it, he was just stating a fact. And yet Phil felt the need to answer him anyways. “Yes,” he said quietly, flinching at the bluntness. Even the thought of how they’d broken up made Phil’s head start to hurt and his stomach begin to churn. He didn’t like to think about it. In fact, most of the time he didn’t. He would prefer to just ignore what had happened.

Dan put a hand on his and squeezed, and it was then that Phil realised he had been digging his nails into his thigh, forming painful little crescents into his skin. Dan didn’t let go, holding his hand under the table out of the eyesight of Ledjon.

Ledjon hummed, biting at the skin of his lip. He seemed contemplative, staring into his mug of coffee with a conflicted expression. “Do you… do you want to talk about it?” he asked, his cheeks turning red with the question. “Excuse me?”

Ledjon groaned then and pushed a hand through his blond hair. He seemed frustrated, at himself more than anything. “Alright, I’m gonna be straight with you,” he said, tugging at a lock of his hair. He glanced up and met Phil’s gaze, turning serious. Phil’s anxiety worsened with just those words, buzzing in his head like an angry wasp. His vision got a bit blurry. “I know what Nico’s done to you. And I’m on your side.”

Just like when Phil had told his mum that he wanted to quit school, everything stopped. Dan’s hand tightened around his own, but rather than feeling comforting, it felt suffocating. The walls of the restaurant were moving in on him, shrinking, trying to bury him alive. He gulped and it was harder to breathe than it should have been. He cleared his throat to hide his inner turmoil and instead let out a shaky, “Oh?”

He didn’t know what Ledjon was referring to when he mentioned what Nico had done to Phil. Did he mean the breakup? How Nico had slapped him that one time? Or how Phil had just let him get dragged away by the police? There were just too many options, and Phil had no idea what Ledjon was going to say.

Ledjon smiled at him, putting his chin in his hand. Phil watched as he rubbed at his facial hair with his thumb, smoothing it down. Phil liked to imagine that Ledjon had a cat on his face that he was petting or something. “Let me tell you something,” Ledjon said, his eyes flicking over to Dan as well. “I know it’s hard to come to terms with, but I want you to know that you’re not overreacting, you’re not looking for attention, and your feelings are valid. I know you must feel guilty for the break up, but it’s not your fault at all. Nico did this to himself. He did this to you. You have a right to be upset and nobody is going to blame you for that anymore. Now you can focus on yourself and getting better, and you have people who love you and will support you no matter what.”

Phil stared at his hands in his lap, stared at the way his and Dan’s hand were still intertwined. He felt like he needed to cry. Except there were no tears forming, his eyes just felt sticky and his heart felt heavy in his chest. He didn’t know what to say, his mouth as dry as his eyes at this point. So he cleared his throat again, kept his eyes trained on his lap, and muttered, “I know you’re Nico’s friend. You don’t have to just say this stuff to me to make me feel better. I’m just being overly sensitive and putting it on other people.”

“Phil, no-,” Dan started, but Ledjon cut him off before he could say anything else.

“I’m not just saying that because I want to make you feel better, Phil,” Ledjon said quietly, but in a stern voice. Phil saw him lean on his elbows out of the corner of his eye. “I’m saying that because I know how you feel.”

At that, Phil’s head shot up and he regarded Ledjon with a look of alarm. His head was spinning with his new knowledge. What did Ledjon mean by that? “You what?”

Dan was staring too, his eyes wide, probably confused out of his mind. He had no idea what was going on or why this random guy was suddenly talking to them, but he was listening valiantly, prepared to be Phil’s watchdog at any given time. Phil appreciated that more than he could ever express.

There was a weary expression taking over Ledjon’s face. His eyes turned downcast and Phil could see a river in the blue of his irises. His eyebrows furrowed and his adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. He licked his lips and gnawed on them just a bit more, the definition of nervousness. “Do you remember when I got that black eye?”

Phil nodded, his throat clogging up. He had a feeling he knew where this was going.

Ledjon exhaled through his nose. “When Nico found out that I had told you to be careful, he ended up confronting me. We fought for a bit and I told him that you didn’t deserve to be destroyed by him. He ended up punching me so hard that I blacked out for a bit.” Phil opened his mouth and then closed it again because Ledjon wasn’t done. “Not the first time that’s happened, to be honest. But that’s beside the point. The real point is that he’s not a good person. He’s manipulative and selfish and he likes to be in control of everyone around him. If things had gone on any longer between you two, I have no doubt in my mind that it would have gotten physical. You didn’t deserve that. You never deserved that.”

The first thing that Phil felt was pity, because Phil had never been punched by Nico and he couldn’t even began to imagine how angry Nico must have been to do something like that. But then he just felt sad, because Ledjon knew who Nico was, and was telling him the same things that Dan has been telling him for weeks. He didn’t know what to believe, but it was hard to ignore when two people who didn’t know each other were telling him the exact same thing. “He didn’t mean to be like that with me,” Phil whispered, a last attempt at protecting his relationship. “He was going through some stuff. He didn’t mean any of it.”

“Is that what he told you?” Ledjon asked, and Phil flinched at the words. He squeezed Dan’s hand so hard that he thought he must have fractured some bones, but Dan stayed as still as a rock, listening, letting Phil use him as a stress ball.

“He wasn’t lying, Ledjon.”

“Oh, I have no doubt that he wasn’t lying,” Ledjon answered easily with a wave of his hand. “But it’s easy to use sad stories to guilt trip you and make you do whatever he wants.”

Phil glared at him, feeling slightly offended. There was no way Nico would do something like that. He couldn’t even think of a time when Nico had done something such as that. “He didn’t do that to me.”

He watched through narrowed eyes as Ledjon calmly took a sip of his coffee. The mug made a clink against the wooden table as Ledjon set it back down when he was finished, then scooted it towards Phil only slightly. “Has he ever told you how much he didn’t want to be like his father?”

It was then that Phil realised that Ledjon knew. He knew about everything, knew about Nico’s father, knew about Nico’s nature. Nico had lied when he’d told Phil that nobody else knew about his past. He had lied. Why had he lied?

“He… did,” Phil whispered.

Ledjon raised his eyebrows and Phil felt sick to his stomach. He didn’t want to talk anymore. He wanted to get out of this godforsaken coffee shop and get away from the world for a little bit. He wanted to run back to his cave, curl under the blankets, and watch some cartoons until his eyes fell out of his head once and for all. He wanted to cease to exist, slip beneath the floorboards, descend to purgatory where he would live for the rest of his days.

“I’m sorry, Phil,” Ledjon said, and he truly did sound sorry. Phil didn’t know whether to feel comforted by the fact that Ledjon was aware, or threatened by the fact that Ledjon was aware. He was fucking aware of everything. Phil shook his head and Ledjon apologised once more. “I don’t mean to upset you any further. I know that you’ve been through a lot. But I really just wanted you to know that you’re not alone and that I’m on your side.”

He grabbed a napkin from the center of the table and withdrew a pen from his pocket. He scribbled something on the napkin - probably a phone number - and passed it over to Phil. Their eyes met as Phil took it, even though he was tempted to crumble it up and throw it on the ground in front of Ledjon’s face. He didn’t. Instead, he folded it and put it in his pocket.

“This is for if you need to talk to someone who understands, okay?” Ledjon said quietly. “I’m here for you if you need me.” He looked over to Dan then, his face serious. “I don’t know what your relationship is, but I can tell you care about him a lot. Make sure he gets better, alright? I’m glad he has someone like you to help him through this.”

Phil wasn’t looking at Dan, but he assumed his best friend was nodding and smiling as he said, “Phil’s in good hands.”

They said their goodbyes then, and Phil immediately started to drag Dan out of the coffee shop, leaving their half full coffee cups on the table without a single care. Phil just needed to get out of there. He let go of Dan’s hand the minute they were free, wiping his palm on his jeans because he was quite sweaty and it was nasty.

“Are you okay?” Dan asked, easily falling into step beside him.

Phil shrugged his shoulders. “Let’s just get home,” he muttered, and did not say a single word again for the rest of the walk back. He was lost in his mind, not knowing what was going on or what to think. In only a few minutes, his world had been turned upside down, and he was left to realise just how easily Nico had manipulated him with just a few words.

And yet, Phil still couldn’t help but feel guilty for even thinking badly of Nico in the first place.

Chapter Eighteen

[retroreaderr]

Hello! So... since harry potter is on your fandom list thing, is there any way a huge fan of yours could get a slightly angsty and incredibly fluffy oneshot or more if you get inspired with that precious bb Remus Lupin? It can be HP era or marauders era, up to you. Thanks so much!! :)

OK SO PLEASE SEND MORE HARRY POTTER STUFF BC REMUS IS MY BABE AND I LOVE HIM SM??? this is set in the marauders era but i am 1000% down to write some golden trio era stuff too !! also im like one of a solid 3 people in the fandom that doesnt subscribe to the whole andrew garfield as a faceclaim thing but hey mod gaston and i came up with alternates and we decided matthew gray gubler makes an adorable remus bc look at this babe ???? but hey yall can have ur hcs ill have mine  🕷️💋

“Hey James!” you flagged down the boy as he walked.

“____, what’s up?”

“Have you seen Rem? I wanted to ask him about some homework.”

“He’s, uh, out. Y’know,” he nervously scans the other students passing the two of you.

“Full moon tonight?” you ask keeping your voice low. He nods slightly.

“Listen, I promised I’d meet Pads before dinner -” he awkwardly motioned towards the Gryffindor Common Room.

“No, no it’s alright,” you turn to walk back down the staircase, “I’ll catch up with you later, yeah?”

“Sure.”

You took a seat in one of the chairs of the Common Room, glancing around at the decor.

“Never been in Gryffindor’s before…” you mumble to yourself.

You watch as three particular troublemakers made their way from the boy’s dormitory towards you.

Sirius was the first to notice you, “____? What are you doing -”

“Got the password a while ago from a friend. Listen, I wanted to ask you something.”

“We’re kinda busy, can it wait till tomorrow?”

“No.”

“Listen, I know you guys usually spend the night with him, but -”

“How do you know that?”

“I’m his friend too, you know,” you sigh, “He tells me these kinds of things. Anyways, I was thinking…What if I went tonight?”

“I’m all for the fact that you wanna help a friend, ____, but you can’t come with us, it’s too dangerous.”

“I actually wanted to go alone.”

They all stared at you as if you were mad.

“Have you lost your damn mind?”

“James, listen, I’ve got a plan and -”

“No! It’s way too dangerous. Listen, ____, it’s nothing against you, but…It’s just…Too dangerous.”

“If you won’t let me go I’ll march right down to Dumbledore’s office and tell him about your little map you all use.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

James sighed, Sirius simply glared at you, and Peter stood behind them, clueless as always.

“When you get hurt don’t say we didn’t warn you.”

You get up from your seat and make your way towards the exit, “I’ll be fine.”

“How do you even know about the map anyways?” James calls after you.

“I told you, he tells me these kinds of things,” you smirk.

Your footsteps echoed off of the stone walls as you traversed the small passageway. You could still hear the thump of the Whomping Willow above you, and had it not been for the soft glow of your wand, you would’ve been left in complete darkness. After a few minutes of walking, you found yourself confronted with a small door above you, it reminded you of the entrance to a cellar. You pushed your way through it, being sure it was closed once you were through.

The house you stood in was dusty and decrepit, just standing in the hall you felt your anxiety levels rise. You slowly took your first step, and the floor under you creaked. You heard a shuffling from upstairs, and your eyes shot towards the ceiling, scanning it for any other signs of life. After a small period of silence, you took another step, this time towards the nearby staircase.

You heard the shuffling again, then a small thunk.

“Rem?” you whispered, hoping to hear him answer.

He didn’t.

You climbed the steps slowly, trying to make minimal noise. Your bag felt heavy on your shoulder despite its light weight.

At the top of the steps, you were faced with a door, half open already.

You reached out and pushed it, and watched as it slowly creaked open.

You saw him sat in the corner, his head buried in his knees, his breath rigid.

“Remus.”

His head shot up at the sound of your voice.

“____, what are you doing here?” his face was overwhelmed with worry, making the dark circles under his eyes even more prominent.

“You’ve got to leave, you gotta go, it - It’s not safe, you know -”

“Does it hurt?”

He stopped speaking, though his expression was still overcome with concern.

“What?”

“Does it hurt?”

He doesn’t acknowledge your question for a moment until he slowly nods, dropping his head back to his knees.

“Yeah,” his voice was muffled.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’ve got to leave, though,” he suddenly stands, “You know it’s not safe -”

“I’m staying.”

He shakes his head as he approaches you, “Please, I don’t…” He finally is close enough to touch, and you watch your friend stare down at your hand - god how much he wanted to take it in his own, grab it and never let go - “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.”

“I might,” he meets your eyes, “I can’t exactly control myself when…When it happens.”

You reach into your bag, pulling out a small object. You look at it before placing it in his hand.

“I know it’s your favorite.” He looks at the small candy bar before glancing back up at you, he had such pretty eyes, didn’t he? You never noticed how the green sometimes turned to a sort of blue -

“Thank you,” a small smile crossed his face, “But…You really do have to go.”

“I’m not leaving.”

“____-”

“At least let me stay for a little bit longer, then.”

He turned his head, looking out the window before glancing down at the chocolate, then to you.

“You can’t stay long.”

A smile spreads across your face.

“I don’t get how you stand me, really,” he leans his head back against the wall.

“Hm?”

“I mean, all I really am is a hassle, aren’t I? I just cause problems and I’m not worth your time, and -”

“Rem, you’re worth all the time in the world.”

“What I am is a monster.”

“What you are is kind, and cute, and shy and -”

“I don’t get why you like someone like me. Someone with my condition.”

“Because you aren’t defined by it. It’s a small part of a much bigger whole.”

“It’s a pretty big part of my life, if you ask me.”

“I’m not saying it’s not. I’m saying everything else about you, all that good, isn’t defined by that single negative. You’re too hard on yourself, Remus. You’re really a wonderful guy.”

“That’s not how I see it.”

“Well it’s how everyone else does. I’ll just have to teach you to see it my way, eh?” you nudge him playfully. He flashes a small smile again, and the sight makes your heart melt.

You sit in silence for a few minutes, just sitting, enjoying each other’s company. You almost forget why you’re there until suddenly you see him tense up.

“Rem?”

“You gotta go,” he breathes before letting out a grunt of pain and falling forward to the floor.

You felt your heart shatter at the sight of him in pain.

“Rem -” you reach out towards him, resting your hand on his shoulder. At your touch he jerks away.

“Go.”

“No.”

He’s shaking as he meets your eyes. His pupils dilate as his head lowers again, and he lets out a scream of pain. You wince at the noise, but stand your ground. His nails dig into the floor and his breath quivers as he bites hard on his bottom lip, drawing blood.

“Please,” his voice is weak.

“I want to stay.”

He jerks backwards, slamming against the wall. You look away as you hear the sickening snap of bone.

You slowly back towards the bed that sat in the corner of the room, unsure of what to do. He let out another groan of pain, though as it went on it became less human. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

There were a few more moments filled with the sounds of both bone and flesh contorting, and you hold your breath as the room becomes silent. You hear a small whimper, and you slowly open your eyes, and turn to face him.

You’d expected much worse, honestly.

He almost looked cute - his fur was shaggy, and the same shade as his hair. His robes were tattered but still clung to his body.

You let out the breath you held.

His amber eyes snapped up towards you, and you were struck with fear.

“Rem?” you whisper.

The wolf’s eyes softened for a moment, and he took a step towards you. You smiled and stepped away from the bed, towards him, and extended a hand to reach for him. He stopped walking, and you barely saw his pupils dilate once more before he let out a growl and leapt towards you.

You stumbled backwards, onto the bed and frantically grabbed around for your wand. Your fingers felt nothing but the cold and worn quilt of the bed as you heard another bark and the patter of nails against the hardwood floor. You barely rolled out of the way before you felt the pressure of another creature on the bed besides you. You clambered onto the floor, searching furiously for your wand. You spotted it a foot away, next to your bag. Crawling towards it, you barely making contact before you heard the howl of your friend beside you.

If you could even call it your friend - you knew it wasn’t really him.

“Rem, please,” you whimper, finally grabbing hold of your wand. You then pull yourself to your feet using the wall as support.

The wolf simply growled aggressively, and bounded towards you. He swiped at your arm, barely catching it and tearing your colored robes in the process. The action made you fall backwards, though you didn’t process the pain right away.

Your breathing quickened as the animal slowly approached you again, teeth bared.

“Remus, I know you’re in there somewhere. I know…I know…”

The beast paid no attention to your pleas and leaped towards you again, but before he made contact with you, your arm flew in front of you, wand in hand. You weren’t sure which spell you’d casted, as a thousand different ones had flown through your mind all at once, but whichever it was sent the wolf flying back into the wall. It landed on the ground, whimpering. You immediately felt a pang of regret and sadness, you had just hurt your best friend.

You slowly approached him, placing a hand on his soft fur.

“Rem?”

The wolf responded slightly to the noise, trying to lift its head. It let out a deep huff before resting back on the ground.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry -” You placed your other hand onto its head, petting him. It seemed to lean into your touch, once again letting out a small whine.

Maybe it had hit its head too hard, or maybe you had somehow gotten through to him, but you knew then that you were safe. You sat down next to him, leaning against his torso, slowly stroking the fur of his neck. The scraps of robe that still stuck to him somehow only added to your comfort, reminding you of his true self.

You closed your eyes, and soon enough fell into a deep slumber, not even noticing that the wolf had adjusted its large body to somewhat wrap itself around you protectively.

It wasn’t the sunlight glaring through the window that woke you. It wasn’t even the cold. In fact, it was the lack of cold that had awoken you. You opened your eyes, still dazed from sleep. Your pillow rose and fell rhythmically, and you raised your head to look at it, confused.

Instead of the familiar four-poster you were used to sleeping in, you then realized that you lay on the hard-wood floor of a bedroom.

“Rem?” your voice was low and still veiled in slumber.

He lay below you, dark circles surrounding his eyes. Just the look of him made you exhausted, as though in some way you could share his burden of fatigue.

His arm is draped around your waist, and you make no attempt to move it as you lay back down against his chest, which is barely covered by his clothes.

The contact makes him shiver, and he opens his eyes, startled after being pulled from sleep.

He groans, taking a moment to asses the situation.

“____?” his voice is gravelly.

“Hm?” you snuggle closer to him, suddenly feeling the chill of the shack’s air.

“What are you…Oh god. Oh god, did I -”

“I’m fine, love.”

He stiffens at the name. You chuckle, then reach up to plant a kiss on his cheek.

“____, I don’t understand…”

“Hm?”

“Why you’d risk your life for…Someone like me.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I…I just…”

You look up at him again and see a few stray strands of hair draped over his face. You grin, once again reaching up to kiss him, though this time you capture his lips, and your eyes flutter shut as you do so. Despite his exhaust, he eagerly kisses back, and after you part he sighs, turning his head to stare out the window.

“Have you got classes today?”

“No.”

“Can we stay a while longer?”

“Of course, Rem.”

You hear an almost inaudible, “Yes!” from him.

You giggle as you cuddle closer to him, and he wraps his other arm around you, “Dork.”

[thegirlwithmanynamestm-blog]

I keep thinking maybe I just need to meditate, maybe if I got out of the house, maybe if I got a higher paying job, maybe I just need to workout, maybe I just need to stop thinking negative thoughts...

But none of it helps. 

Because I have a mental illness. 

I can’t just meditate my mental illness away. I can’t exercise my pain away. No yogi pose can fix my fucked up brain.

Travel far away you say? Sounds fun, too bad the pain goes with me everywhere I go. More money in my bank account won’t be able to change my thoughts. 

And unfortunately for me, trying to think away negative thoughts is like trying to think away hunger. It’s not possible.

Because I have a mental illness. I’m not just a little annoyed, I am not sad because someone died, I am not angry because someone hurt my feelings.

I am FUCKED up.

I am off the charts infuriated when I wake up in the morning. My skin will crawl from the anxiety of the upcoming day and I will scratch my face until every scabbed blemish becomes a soft red de-scabbed, now inflamed blemish. And then, at some arbitrary moment in the day, I will become the happiest kindest person in the room. I will become so joyful you couldn’t t even imagine that in a few hours it is likely I will be screaming at the top of my lungs, stomping around my kitchen, yelling into the air, words of hatred, for the people, job, and life that I deeply loved and appreciated just a few hours ago.

I damage the lives of those around me. My facial expression, body language, and choice of words may sound as if I hate you one minute, then love you the next. I may find you very annoying after that, then I may look as though I have a major depressive disorder.

I can’t plan anything in advance because I don’t know who I will be when its time to follow through on the plan. I can’t work in an environment where I have to interact with others because there will be days that I can’t interact with others without unknowingly destroying their hopes and dreams, sucking the joy from them, with my words.

I don’t like it when I itch, I don’t like to yell and scream at air, I don’t like to hurt people’s feelings. I would never do that.

It’s THEM who enjoy it. Each of them enjoys their own evil, damaging MY life.

One wants to stay in bed forever. She thinks it sounds fun to live at her mother’s house all her life, carefree. She doesn’t are about travel, working, anything. She just wants to watch tv and become obese and die there on the couch.

I fucking hate her. 

Another becomes so anxious she says the stupidest things in conversation. She is erratic and all over the place. She is the loose cannon. I hate her too. She keeps me from having friends for very long. She makes it hard for me to concentrate, to get anything done. She stares into space for hours. Time goes by way too fast and she becomes depressed that she got nothing done that day but sit around and think a lot.

I feel bad for her. She tries so hard but just ends up fucking everything up. Its better that she doesnt talk. She keeps me from doing anything productive. She is the equivalent of air. Fucking useless. Waste of space on the planet.

Then there is who I am right now. I fucking hate everyone. I fucking hate my life. I fucking hate you. I fucking hate my job. I hate everyone. Everything. Every happy word I say is me faking it. Everyone I loved yesterday I now fucking hate. I even hate myself. I am a fucking loser. I am broke. I live at my mom’s. I have a fucking mental illness. I don’t even know why my boyfriend puts up with me. I am a piece of shit. I am a fucking psycho. I deserve to be shot in the head. I won’t do any good for the world. I am basically a mentally defective human. All mentally defective humans who cause damage to others generally get put in jail. Human kind has no place for me. Although it doesn’t seem like it, because I am the evil that quietly lurks amongst others, but I deserve to die as much as a sexual predator deserves to die. We didn’t choose to be these evil people. Something inside us pushes us to do these evil things. We aren’t in control. We are just doing what our body tells us to do, as you do what yours tells you to do. You eat when youre hungry, you drink when youre thirsty, and I rage when I am angry Joanna. I hurt others when I am hateful Joanna. If I were an employee at a job that actually requires any skill, I would damage the company. I would be lying at an interview if I said “I would be a great addition to your company!” I am the worst candidate of all. I will ruin your company with my ever changing moods. One day I will be a great friend, only to treat that employee like the fucking devil a few hours later. And I am unpredictable. You can’t guess which Joanna you will get. Maybe we have a big meeting coming up. You can count on me to provide a 50% chance of fucking it all up, and a 50% chance of blowing it out of the water with success. What a ticking timebomb I am.

I am trash. I am worse than a sexual predator. At least they are predictable. I am the psycho that switches on and off, fading from 100% on to 100% off throughout the day many times a day. 

And you can’t fix me. And I can’t fix me either. There is nothing for me to do but suffer, and nothing for you to do but either suffer along with me, or run far far away as soon as you can.

That’s me. That girl with the mental illness.

[pepperminthealing-blog]

Day 1

I want to start this blog stating that I’m going to attempt to write everyday, and maybe even more than one a day. The events of this blog will not be in chronological order, it’s going by what is really tearing my heart apart that day, where my mind wanders. 

I want to say thank you for whoever reads this, and I hope through my healing it may give you some insight in your own life, or better understanding of whatever. Or even if you’re just curious, I hope it tickles your feather I suppose.

On we go.

A month and a half ago I met someone, and we had the instant click. Whether it was because we were considerably nerdy, or because he made me feel safe during my current situations. Honestly, it was all supposed to be a joke; and thats so sickening to me knowing that I fell that low. We first met on tinder, and he would send some uh... wonderful messages. And my co-workers and I would read them and respond, then chuckle as we just kind of made fun of this guy who seemed to really be trying too hard. -Sigh- Who would of known that this guy was actually someone with a very very soft heart. We lost contact once I left my job shortly after my miscarriage and gained contact back when I returned, he was already seeing someone and I was on the line of breaking up with the person I was with at the time as well. We made rules that we wouldnt hang outside of work until we both had ended those two terms, because we wanted to be as truthful and transparent with not just one another but with them, fairness to speak. Today, I couldn’t tell you how we got to where we were that day, it was literally just a click... Maybe I was craving something that he posessed because I wasnt getting it in my own relationship? Idk. But, the first night we hung out... I knew I had to keep walking with him. He took me to Wawa at 3am, and bought me a tuna sandwich, and we drove to some dock area and talked about politcal things, hospital business and just our opinions on the world. It was freeing, connecting and intoxicating to find someone who had a like mindset as my own, that could hold an intellectual conversation on things that really mattered to me. After hours of talking, he drove me back to my car and kissed me, and it felt so tender and innocent. I think that was the moment I let my walls down, that for some stupid reason my dumb broken heart wanted to just burst and open up to someone I barely had any knowledge of. The most we talked when seperated was sexual things, and from my past expierences that was never a good sign, but WHY DID THIS FEEL DIFFERENT? Was it because he was a nurse I worked with? That I believed he didnt have the capacity to break me like anyone else could in this world? -sigh.- I slept with him that night, and the hormones our brains release during that time, started the attachment. But it also set the fear in that he would be like everyone else. I want to skip around so much because diving back into these memories have been nothing but haunting the last week, but I’m trying to remind myself that skipping details is skipping moments that could possibly heal you. As I’m writing this, I’m crying tears over this stupid guy. And calling him stupid isnt going to fix anything, because even though you guys have gotten to read down to this part, I just want to say he isnt bad at all. He didnt leave to be an asshole, he was physically ill, he had an addiction problem and I was his catnip. And asking him to stay wasnt just selfish of me, but it was deadly. I would of never forgiven myself if he relapsed because I pushed him too far. I know he cared about me, and the impression I’m giving of him already doesnt give that off, so I wanted to say that before I continued the rest of this story.

Anyways, weeks passed and James and I would have deep conversations about our lives, fantasies, dreams and things. He would care for me when I was sick, reach out and cushion the blows I would take from the break up I just endured. He would push me to take the stress of work and push through it, remind me that I’m doing it for the greater good, and that I was doing just fine. He calmed the storm in my mind for a brief period of time, while I rumbled the dark one in his. Sex and the connection we made was what he called “catnip” to him, and he tried to push me away and I pulled him right back in. Not only was I intoxicating to him, but he became just as much to me. Who wouldnt want someone who could protect them from the harsh of the world for some time?? To give them that freedom feeling that they have CRAVED to feel for years? Valentines day, he gave me 3 chokers, and they meant the absolute world to me. Not only were they ones I wanted, but they had meaning to me. They were heartfelt emotional presents, specially from him; and I felt I was flying. I think that night was the night I began the falling process, or well... I know I did. I stepped off the ledge after he told me to not move furniture into a house he was only renting. I refused to believe that, in my head I thought I could save him, that this would be different. And the signs he gave off, gave me the hope that just that was happening.

......this is the hardest part.....

The day after Valentines day, I woke up and in my stomach I felt something different. I felt like our connection was torn, I was depressed and I thought it was just maybe me. We talked all day, and everything seemed normal. But that night, when he got off his shift, he met me in the staircase at my work. The staircase where he would visit me before he left, where he told me how crazy he was for me, where we shared some of our best kisses.... The staircase I walked down to have my first in face conversation with him...I sat next to him... Him: “Hey buddy, how are you?” It always bothered me when he called me buddy, I wasnt his buddy. I was his Kitten, his baby... “I’m alright, how are you?” “Tired.”  I wanted to just slump onto him and just melt. But I could feel the tension behind his words, that there was something that he wanted to say. “Are you still coming over Thursday?” “I don’t think thats going to be a good idea, buddy.” That last sentence shattered the world that he built up with me. I pressed on asking and he began to lightly tell me how what we built up was unhealthy for him, which I didn’t understand at that moment how it was unhealthy. How our relationship was bad for him, but I wasnt. His hazel eyes stared into mine, and I could feel that wall being built between us, I felt shut out. I tried clawing at that wall, pushing, hammering everything I could to get him to tell me why he was leaving. I sat on that second stair of the top while he stood below me, asking me to tell him to leave... I couldn’t. Telling him to leave was like telling myself to drown at that moment. How in such a short period of time could one person make me feel all this in a second. I didn’t grasp how we went from one moment of bliss, to.... hell. I’m still processing through this part, and it wasn’t until last night that it all made sense to me. James expressed so many times that he didn’t want to leave, but what we had was enticing his addictive nature, which could push him to relapse. And the only way to stop that, was to stop being with me. And I felt like I was so unhealthy for him at that point, no matter what he said. But it wasnt me, it was what we had. And there was no going back from that, you can’t just build up a relationship and then change it expecting it to change with you. So, you have to end it...  Which is still hard on me, because I care deeply about him. And because I care deeply for him; I’ve started to let him distance from me.

I wrote him one final text last night expressing every little emotion I had for him, and apologizing for throwing his stuff out, which I regret so much now because I dont have an inch of his love in my house... just my bed still smells like him. I can’t count how many times I’ve thought about him in a day, or how I’m still picking pieces of our relationship apart to find solutions or how BADLY I fight with myself to text him, begging him to text me back. Even after we broke up, he still wanted to come take care of me... I invited a random guy over to poke at him when we broke up, and he still came over to calm the pain in my heart once the guy left. Who does that? Not only do I know that what we have was unhealthy for him, but by the way I acted when he hurt me, was how I knew I was unhealthy for not just him... but those around me.

Moral to this story, even though its not fully finished but this is as much as I want to dive into it today is that... people are lessons. And James was the one who left pain in my soul, and that pain finally opened my eyes to how dangerous I am to people, how much pain I actually feel. I’m so for healing those around me, and saving those who need it. But... I forgot about me. I forgot that I need those things too, from myself. As of right now, I havent texted him; I’ve kept my word to let him distance, and I think he’s finally removed me from snap chat so he wont look at my stories and have the craving to return. 

As for me, well... this whole thing has made me realize that I need time to really heal and figure out me. I’ve been in and out of things in life, that I don’t think I’ve ever slowed down long enough to process what it is I’ve gone through. 

Do I love James? I think I loved the idea of being with him, and the feelings he gave me.

Do I care about him? Yes, and because of that, I don’t want to get in the way of his recovery.

Do I hope we can ever become something? At this point I think it’s healthy to say that everyone hopes they can get back with the person who just left them . I do hope we can talk one day, i miss our conversations. 

What’s next? Well, work today... I’m  dreading the day we have to run into each other at work, but that day will come and when it does, I’m going to embrace it and push through. 

I think thats enough for right now.