#need help with motivation

[tnsophiaonly]

!𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 Various Genshin Males x Isekai'd 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 Reader!

Trying out a new style ayyy

[■■■■■■□□□□] 50%

"It's either 𝘆𝗼𝘂 or 𝙢𝙚. My apologies, 𝙃𝙞𝙠𝙖𝙧𝙞."

This 𝗙𝗮𝗻𝗳𝗶𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 will contain;

➪𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆

➪𝙾𝚋𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝙱𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚛

➪𝚄𝚗𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚑𝚢 𝚁𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙

➪𝙼𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝙶𝚘𝚛𝚎

➪𝚄𝚗𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝙱𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚛

➪𝚃𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎

➪𝙵𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

➪𝙾𝙾𝙲

➪𝙻𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝙴𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜

➪𝚃𝚢𝚙𝚘𝚜 (rushes almost everything)

→ P×d×philia (slight but still triggering, and it only lasts about 1 chapter)

→ triggering moments (such as trauma)

→gaslight

→manipulation

- i DO NOT support this kind of behavior in real life, please do know this is a depiction of fantasy and entertainment only.

- I have a Wattpad account so if you saw this on Wattpad it's just me 😣 @SophiaOnly

❥︎ This is an original work of fiction of mine, and i 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝘁𝗼𝗹𝗲𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗲 with anyone who dare copies/repost my work.

[■■■■■■■■■■] 100%

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Chapter 1:

𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞♥︎ 𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆!𝑽𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒏 𝑴𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒔 𝐱 𝐈𝐬𝐞𝐤𝐚𝐢'𝐝 𝐅!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞r

Before in-game events!

------------

This will be you off-screen, or outside world

And this is what is happening on-screen, or should I call; in game.

--------

Ping!

Name: Hikari

Status: Acquaintance

Opinion: [redacted]

Hikari has a short black hair with white tips at the end. White skin tone. Blue crystal eyes

-------------------

'I can't believe this! It's actually real! I am in a relationship with Tartaglia! Wahh I could only squeal inside!!!'

"Ugh finally! That damn ginger was so hard to please!" You stretched your arms, clearly exhausted pressing buttons half the day!

Hikari was really happy getting into a relationship with the ginger. Even tho they've been dating for at least 2 months, she still hardly believed Tartaglia would want to date her.

"Girl, he ain't worth it if he thinks your ugly! Dump him!" You yelled at your screen. But wasn't it you who made her date him? Oh please I only did it for exp!

As Hikari went to the library to return her books, afraid of returning it too late as of the rumors says that the Librarian isn't all that lazy and carefree if it's overtime!

She saw a horrid sight, it was Tartaglia. Making out with another woman. The woman was all to familiar, afterall. Hikari had crossed paths with her alot of times, she wasn't all too friendly too. It was Yuri.

"I wasted all that time just to get cheated on...?" You mumbled, your eyes twitched out of irritation. How could this bastard of a ginger even take your precious time? So utterly ridiculous.

"Tartaglia...?" Hikari spoke up, earning the attention of the two. His ocean blue eyes widened as he saw his girlfriend crying tears. She still looked beautiful, whether she is crying or smiling.

She ran out of the library and Tartaglia was about to chase her, when someone held him back. It was Yuri. Yet again. He just glared daggers at her and slapped her grip away rather effortlessly. He went out off the library and ran as fast as he could to chase and keep up with you when...

He saw her with another man. She was crying (bricks) at the mans' shoulder and the man was clearly comforting her. The man noticed Tartaglia's brief presence and smirked at his face as a sign of mockery.

'Scaramouche.. you damn bastard... I'll kill you-!' Childe was erupting bloodlust and it was clearly visible. Cowering anyone who was near him in fear.

"Ooh some drama~!" You stated. With a hint of interest in the game you were watching.

"Shh~ shh~ now now, no need to cry over a man that's not worth it." The purple shortie wiped Hikari's crystal warm tears. He was using a facade. With a little bit of twist, and turns, she'll be his.

When Scaramouche took out his grasp, Childe immediately slipped her away from him. Resulting in his facade to break. He was glaring with pure hatred and despisal to the ginger.

"Hikari... I- I was drugged with an aphrodisiac in my drink, please. Please, forgive me. I didn't intend to hurt you!" He tried to reason out to Hikari,

"I knew something was off with Yuri, but- you wished that I would at least be her acquaintance! I granted your wish!" He got on his knees,throwing all his pride and ego away,

"And it ended up on you getting hurt. Yet it's still my fault, please. Please forgive me my love.." he was pleading for forgiveness. He loved you so much, so shouldn't you go and apologize to him like a dear angel you are?

You side-eyed the screen in an offensive way, "Nope. I'm not gonna forgive him if i was Hikari. Like, people make excuses just to make themselves feel better." You stated and placed your (skin color) fingers on your mouse,

"What makes him think that Hikari would trust him after making out with another woman? How foolish. Hikari is a class representative, she knows what's right and wrong. Don't make a fool of her." Your eyebrows were furrowed once you saw the options

The only two options;

"I understand, it was my fault to begin with. Forgive me Tartaglia."

"I forgive you Tartaglia, knowing you're a sweet guy of course you'll never do that!"

"This is bullshit."

Then after that. You saved the game there. You stood up. And went outside to touch some grass. Smh.,

(Ps. This is what I do if I don't like what's happening.)

*Beep beep*

Then you got hit by truck-kun and died.

The end 😴

----------

"Huh... My hands feel so little." Once you got a glance on your hands you immediately said that out loud.

"Seems that Ms. (L/N) (Y/N) is awake~" a seemingly flirty voice spoke out. It sounded so deep man.

"Wha... What..??" The truck that gave you brain damage, also damaged your braincells.

"You've been sleeping alot in my class lately, perhaps you'd like to meet me after school hmmm?" He snickered,

You finally got a glance at his face, he looked like a those bi manhwas dudes. (Long necks)

'Who the heck are you?' you thought. You tilted your head at the side.

"No." You just spoke randomly.

*Gasp*

*Gasp*

*Gasp*

Almost everyone gasped cause you rejected this hot ass mother fucker.

(I'm sorry for cursing omg)

'What'd I do???' you looked around. Anxiety reaching to the moon.

"why are you all looking at me like that?!" You gasped at your actions and immediately realized that you f-cked up.

You just sat down. You heard whispers. ;hehdhsyeiisyeodbakdgishskdgksisgsodywkduodskdg;

"Seriously why are you guys looking at me? I didn't do anything wrong did I? YOU GUYS ARE SOO MEANN!!!" you pulled an act.

Someone beside was just glancing at you. She knew you were acting. But she kept it a secret because she isn't a snitch!

She had black hair. It was long. And blue eyes.

'I'm an embarrassment to my parents. I seriously am.' you thought to yourself while in the middle of your facade

You were crying fake tears.

A character that you stole are characterized as for today! Or for these few chapters!

Chapter 2:

[definitely-hulu]

So ngl I've been procrastinating a lot and I've seen a bunch of those likes motivation posts and stuff and even though my blog ain't that popular, thought I'd try. Pls help me @totally-peacock-i-swear

At 25 notes, I'll start completing my math homework the day it's assigned (we get one everyday but they're due on Wednesdays)

At 50 notes, I'll draw in my sketchbook at least once a week (rn it's like once a month)

At 100 notes, I'll start working with my watercolor pencils and charcoal pencils (mostly supplies I hardly use, especially paints)

At 200 notes, I'll experiment with different art styles (realism, minimal, etc)

At 500 notes, I'll clean my room.

At 1,000 notes, I'll finish reading The Blood of Olympus by Rick Riordan (I abandoned it like 4-5 years ago)

At 1,500 notes, I'll CLEAN my room (and maybe closet)

At 2,000 notes, I'll write to chapter 10 in my book (25 if this gets over 25,000 (get it, 25k for chapter 25))

At 5,000 notes, I'll read 10 pages+ of whatever book I'm reading before going to bed (instead of watching yt, idk why this isn't in here sooner but oh well)

At 10,000 notes, I'll clean my OLD room!! (Basically I just took what I wanted for my new room and left the other one as a wasteland)

At 15,000 notes, I'll start a YouTube channel for all the videos I've wanted to do (mostly gameplay or bloxburg building, even featuring my voice, idk I've just been thinking it'd be cool to do that, recently)

[uncanny-tranny]

Basically, my philosophy around disability fakers is: I would rather a thousand people fake a disability than have one disabled person suffer without care, aids, compassion, or any help.

[razberrybones]

GAAAH the therian/nonhuman community never ceases to amaze me. There's literally the coolest fucking people, creatures, characters, gods, angels, items- you name it. ITS JUST SO COOL!

Sitting over here kicking my feet bc a deity followed me back. scrolling my following and seeing what my dinosaur friend is up to. i just- GAAH

not to mention just how welcoming everybody is, it's wonderful. in all this adversity in such a cruel world we live in, we have a (semi)safe space. I wanna see this community grow and seeing people talk about how it used to be EVEN BETTER?? GODD we need to get some of that back.

keep being wild and unpredictable :pointing at viewer: share your stories and write some, do crafts, take up coding, whatever. just do it. you wanna know who's really good at learning crafts and hobbies? YOU!! get got nerd >:) go be a creature rn

[alienoresimagines]

Just some words I've been needing to hear for a few weeks now and once I finally wrote them down, I thought maybe there were other people who might need to hear them too ❤️

You don't need to be anyone's favorite writer for your writing to be good.

The worth of your writing is not measured by whether or not you're included in fic recs or the amount of comments/asks you get.

Your works don't need to be recognized as some of The fics of the fandom to be good or worth reading.

'Popular' writers in your fandom are also just writers (and humans!!) : you don't need to impress or be noticed by them to have a place in your fandom. Fandom should be fun so don't let your brain ruin it with a misplaced sense of competition <3

You don't need to post a fic every week to be considered a writer. You don't need to write every week to be a writer. There is no limited places in fandom: come and go as you want and as life allows you to. Post when you feel like it, there is no trend to surf on to stay 'relevant' as a fic writer or a content creator. Fandom will always wait for you.

Your writing is good, and the more you write, the more you find your style, the better it gets.

Your writing made someone's day. Your writing is helping the fandom stay alive. Your writing should make you happy, and that happiness should not be proportional to how recognized you are in your fandom.

I know it can be discouraging to see tons of fic recs in your fandom and none of them including your fics. But yesterday, when I was feeling down, I re-read my own published works because they were the stories I wanted to read. And I enjoyed reading them, so much. And that is enough to keep me writing, because it showed me there is no better person to write the stories I have in my head than myself (a huge progress considering months ago, I couldn't reread something I'd written because I was cringeing too hard to get through two sentences).

Find your people that will always hype you and your fics up: you and your writing don't have to appeal to every single person in your fandom. Write niche fics! Rarepairs seemingly no one brought up before! Include headcanons and takes and interpretations you've never seen written before!

Write the stories you are dying to read, and I promise you, you'll find other people who were hoping to find that story somewhere, too.

Your writing is unique because it can only ever be yours and same goes for your stories; your writing is worth reading and your stories are worth being written <3

[roscolate]

I’M LEGIT TEARING UP RIGHT NOW 🥹🥹🥹😭😭😭

MY BOIS ARE BACK THE MARIO AND LUIGI RPGS ARE BACK OMG I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS RN 😭😭😭

[crabsnpersimmons]

New 'Do, Same You now on Ao3!!

it's here! my silly hairdresser AU that sparked from my silly page of doodles is now a fic!! i hope you'll give it a read!

In the mood for something new? Come on in for a new hairdo! Day or night, dusk or dawn, Find what you're looking for at the Shooting Star Salon!

EDIT: they're handing out coupons for the salon! 20% off all services! Not valid with other offers. Valid until end of January 2025. (some of them are drawn in crayon by Clip himself 🖍️)

[sunflowersinheaven]

another wip, that i wont be able to finish for a while

[bet-on-me-13]

Danny is the son of Mr Freeze

So! Danny was adopted as a Kid.

It was never really that big of a thing to him, just a small footnote in his life. He never really cared about finding his Bio Family, or even looking into it at all. His new Family was enough for him, no need to complicate it all that much.

But then, the Accident happened.

After he got shocked by the Portal and passed out, his parents had rushed him to the hospital. Apparently his Heart had been pulsing irregularly, so they had decided to not take any chances.

While at the Hospital, the Doctors noticed a particularly strange result in his blood tests. So, a few months after he had been discharged (it took a while for the blood work to come back), they asked him to come back in for further testing.

At first, Danny was scared that they had found out about his Powers. But when he walked into the Room, they had other news.

He had been diagnosed with Huntingtons Disease, a rare neurological condition that apparently had no known cure. The only possible way to contract the Disease was to have inherited it from one of his parents.

They said it was in its early stages at the moment, but as time passed he would become weaker and weaker, and he would become more sickly. They diagnosed that he had just over 5 years left before he died, and there were no treatments or cures that could save him.

Danny got a second opinion with Frostbite, since he knew more about Ghost Biology and might know if it was truly a fatal Disease for a Halfa.

And yeah, it was. No matter how much of him is Ghostly, he is still half Human, and the Human Disease in his body can and will kill him. And there's no guarantee that he will become a full Ghost upon death. For all he knows it will just End him.

So, Danny had a time limit to find a way to cure himself. He didn't have much time to study, what with the constant Ghost Attacks, his School Work, and keeping his parents from attacking innocent Ghosts, but he managed where he could.

Speaking of his parents, they had been looking into the disease as well. But they seemed convinced that they could find a way to save him by simply dissecting a Ghost to study its biology. (It was as if this was just a convenient excuse to dive deeper into their obsession)

After a while, he mamaged to resolve the Ghost Attack stuff and got his grades under control, but he was still making little progress on finding a Cure.

So, he looked into other people who might be studying the same Disease, to see if he could look I to their research. But that search came up empty.

There was nobody who wanted to fund research into such a rare disease, so nobody was studying it. There was one man who was studying it, but he was a convicted Supervillain. Danny decided that he would be his backup plan, since he wasn't sure how Jazz would react if he teamed up with a known Villain.

He just kept on studying his condition.

...

It had been about 4 years since his initial diagnosis, and Danny was 18. And he needed help.

He had made no progress in developing a Cure, and his condition had worsened. He could barely walk without a limp anymore, and his limbs felt weaker by the day.

He did manage to get some luck when he found out that lowering his Body Temperature would slow the progress of the Disease. He was never more thankful for his Ice Powers than on the day he figured that out.

But he had hit a roadblock. He needed help, and unfortunately there was only one place he could go to get it. The Supervillain he had read about all that time ago, Mr Freeze.

Now he was headed to Gotham City to seek his help, even if it meant becoming a Villlain himself.

[blackkatdraws2]

There are more things in the Parable than Stanley knows about. [Blank Scripts AU]

[zfcv]

Random inspo I found on 📌

(None of these photos belong to me)

[tnsophiaonly]

Imagine like you're reading, watching, playing, listening to a book, fanfiction, game, anime, movies, etc., And being the simp you are, always thinking about these characters. Wishing you were there.

But little did you know, the characters themselves think about you, maybe EVEN more than you. Like they cherish every breath, hair, presence, molecule or everything about you.

"Oh how you make me crazy, wishing I could hold your hand but such walls and dimensions depart as from our destiny, if it was only scripted for me to break into your world.."

"I love you dearly, but you're real..."

"Do you think about me? Everyday, every night, every breath, every second, every time, just always? You don't think about others do you?"

"You look so divine [name], I wish I was real like you.. or maybe you're fictional like me.."

You wish they were real too don't you? (Unless they are weirdos/creeps or maybe a menace, maybe not) Why are fictional characters better than real people? Because fictional characters are made to your liking, unlike real people../hj

Why do I srsly want this to be a fanfic, maybe make one and put it in my drafts? Omg the plot... I'm already thinking!! But the motivation..... Anyways you all gotta go and vote on chapter 2 so I can work on chapter 3 already!!!

Love y'all ♡

[thepersonalquotes]

We all have the power to influence others. It is up to us, whether we are going to abuse that power to manipulate people or use it to help them.

Abhijit Naskar, The Film Testament

[tubbytarchia]

Just some more previews from the animation, I'm basically done with all the lineart, only need to color lots now and file out some rough edges </3

My favorite part to animate was the camel chewing on leaves

(Psst please don't reupload my stuff :(, my ACTUAL twitter is this)

[rawbin-hsr]

OMGGG Your latest smut fic is so amazing!!! The smut is absolutely delicious! but....the angst is breaking my heart so...could you please write a continuation or part two where the reader confronts Aventurine's dark internal thoughts and comforts them? A fic where they actually get him to believe that they love him for real, where they tell him that he's not a monster and that he wasn't ruining them.

You've got it ! (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

Aventurine x Reader

You treat Aventurine with more respect than he deserves. (Part 2)

Read part 1 here !

CW: dehumanisation (internal, thoughts Aventurine has of himself, referring to himself as a “monster”), lots of mentions of death, passively suicidal Aventurine, violent imagery (through metaphors, nobody is actually physically harmed), intrusive thoughts, Aventurine thinks kind of vicious things about you (refers to you as "stupid", "brainless", "naive" etc), cursing.

Lmk if there’s anything else I should warn about !!

Small note: Spoiler alert sorry, but you will not completely fix Aventurine in this fic. Making any real progress would take YEARS. The trauma he's gone through and his beliefs about his own humanity are EXTREMELY deep-seated, just one conversation would not be enough to make him truly believe he was loved. Super sorry since I'm sure that's not what you wanted (you specifically requested they "truly get him to believe that they love him for real", but this does still end on a hopeful note so I hope you won't be too disappointed (•ᴗ•,, ) )

Sometimes Aventurine gains enough clarity to remember where he stands. More importantly, he gains enough clarity to remember where you should stand. That is to say, as far away from him as possible. Unfortunately, you are never keen on doing that. 

In these moments of clarity, he distances himself. If you won’t do it, he has to. He needs to. He needs to even when he can feel the little pieces of him that you’ve managed to haphazardly glue together splinter into tiny shards again, even when it feels like every step away is a step walked on shattered glass. He can hardly be called a ‘person’ anyways, what does his suffering matter? He has already lost so many good things, why not add another loss to the tally?

He reads your texts, but he doesn’t respond. He hangs up on you the moment you call. By doing this, he makes sure you know he is alive. Both because he knows it would devastate you if you thought he died, but even more so to make sure you know he is intentionally ignoring you. He hopes at least some part of you hates him. He thinks part of him hates you.

But he can never stay away for long. Like a werewolf called by the full moon; like a vampire to blood; like a siren to a sailor. Thoughts of you always cloud his mind too much to do what is right. He reminds himself he will destroy you. He comes back anyways. He is too selfish not to. 

And you welcome him with open arms every time. Sure, sometimes you yell. Sometimes you berate him. Sometimes you cry. But he never does something beyond the bounds of what you’ll forgive, even though he tries to. You’re patient to a fault. Though he feels bad, he never takes it fully seriously, because you always hold him with so much sweetness, even when your words are filled with righteous anger and justified hurt. You always end it by reminding him that you love him. Something clenches in his chest; something that is not his heart, because he has none. He claims he is sorry, but you both know he will do this again. He always does. You know he will hurt you over and over, even if you don’t know the extent. You know he will test you, that he will ignore you, that he will cling to you and that he will taunt you. You don’t know he will drag his claws through you and tear you to ribbons; you don’t know he will sink his teeth into your neck and drink all your blood; you don’t know he will lure you to sea and drown you. You are never aware of the true danger you are in. 

Maybe that’s why you one day feel comfortable enough to corner the creature that has taken on the appearance of a lover. You sit down next to him in bed one evening after one of his many attempts to push you away, your expression grim. You look straight ahead, right into his dead eyes, unaware that a monster is towering over you. 

“We can’t go on like this,” you say. For one moment, the crushing relief and devastation threatens to consume him, and he’s not sure which of the feelings is stronger. For one moment he can’t breathe. 

He hacks our a laugh, his skin straining. Something is shifting beneath his flesh, something ugly and dangerous. He needs to leave and he needs to do it quickly. 

“You’re right, we can’t,” he agrees, his voice a lot more steady than he feels. He feels the urge to grab you and shake you until you pass out. He feels the urge to suck out your life force until your body is an empty husk. He feels the urge to slam your head into the bathroom sink in the next room over. He feels the urge to shoot himself in the head, because he does not want to do any of that. 

“I love you,” you say, unexpectedly. Or maybe it’s not unexpected. You always say such stupid, brainless things. (You say it with sweetness. The only sweetness he can offer in return is the sweetness of bacteria digesting rotting meat. Is the flesh his, or will it be yours?) He laughs again. 

“I thought we were breaking up,” he says. Smirking, as if it’s funny. (It isn’t.)

“No, we’re really not,” you say firmly. He snorts. 

“Maybe we should.”

You don’t answer. Instead, you come closer. 

Get away, he thinks. Run, you fucking idiot. 

You don’t have many flaws, but the ones you do have are insurmountably big. You are too forgiving, you are too kind, you are too selfless, you are too naive. You will kill yourself doing this one day. You will let him kill you.

Your arms wrap around him. He can’t help but relax. The thing lurking under his human disguise grows more restless. 

“I don’t hate you,” you say, unexpectedly. And this one really is unexpected, because what made you say that? Your arms squeeze around him tighter. “I thought I was being obvious enough about that, but you’re so bad at understanding it.”

The feeling he has is the same as the feeling he gets when he realises a deal is going awry. You are the highest risk stakes he has ever made a bet on: will he ruin you, or will you ruin him? What you could do to him is so much more serious than death. He knows that he is holding a losing hand. He doesn’t even know what he stands to win.

You kiss his neck. He shudders. 

“Why are you so scared of me?” you ask. 

Scared? He is not scared. What an outright laughable concept. Neither of you are scared, but if one of you was, it should be you, but you aren’t, for some reason.

“What gives you that idea?” he chuckles, but his voice is not as steady this time, and he can feel his smile slipping. (What is wrong with him? He doesn’t want to think about it. The answer is always ‘everything’.)

“Your hand is shaking.”

It is, but that is not because he is afraid. Fear is a human response, borne from the desire to live. It is instinctual. It means kicking and screaming, it means clawing your way out of hell for the chance to see another day, it means fighting for the life you don’t want to end. He cannot die, you see. Death cannot occur twice. Just because his body reacts, that does not necessarily mean he can truly fear any longer.

(Then again, maybe his reaction does not come from the thought of his death.)

“I’m not scared,” he says, and his voice sounds a lot weaker than he had expected. You pull him closer, cradling his head against the crook of your neck. His blood is pulsing too quickly.

“It would be okay if you were,” you murmur. “I know you don’t know how to be loved. That’s okay. I’ll teach you. You just have to let me.”

Squash. Slice. Tear.

Maybe you are the monster. He can feel your claws prying his chest open; he can feel your teeth dig into his flesh; he can feel something that is not air fill his lungs. The biggest difference between you and him is that he devours, while you give. You painfully shove something back into the cavity meant to contain his soul, you pump blood back into his system, and you fill whatever gaps are left in him with something that is first cold but quickly warms. 

(He realises, belatedly, that something is pumping inside his chest again. But it can’t be a heart, can it? He lost that so long ago.)

“I’ll kill you,” he manages through gritted teeth, claws digging into your shirt. It is not a threat. It is not a warning. It is just the truth.

“You think too much,” you admonish him. Your tone is as gentle as your words are cutting. “I wish you would trust me more. You’re so determined to ruin your own life, and I don’t like it.”

“That’s just how I am. Deal with it or leave.”

“I’ll deal with it, then.”

Like a werewolf called by the full moon; like a vampire to blood; like a siren to a sailor. He will destroy you. But you accept it. 

He has tried time and time again to push you away, but he is weak. So incorrigibly weak, and though your flaws are insurmountable, his are all-consuming. He is a monster in all the ways that matter. But you stubbornly will not leave despite that. 

(Maybe that makes him a little more willing to try to change his nature. Just a little. Just for you. If you will not leave anyways, maybe he could try to make his presence a little less torturous.)

“Just… please stop ignoring me,” you sigh, nuzzling into his hair. Tenderly, tenderly, tenderly, so tenderly it makes his skin crawl. Your claws are softly piercing into him and he is helpless, unable (unwilling) to fight back. “I can deal with everything else. I just hate it when you do that. I can’t keep going weeks without speaking to you. I know you have some kind of… weird ideas that I’d be better off without you, but that’s not true. I love you, and I love being around you. I can’t help you when you cut me off at every corner.”

Cut, slice, slash.

Something in him breaks. Something he knows cannot be salvaged. Something he knows you would not want to salvage. Something he is not sure if he wants to salvage either, now that it is broken anyways.

He breathes a shaky breath, his fingers — his fingers, not claws, not this time — digging into your back. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, and he does not feel the urge to bite down. Though his eyes feel wet, it would not be enough water to drown you. 

He knows your line of logic is wrong. He knows the fact remains unchanged: he is a monster of a man. He will ruin you. But maybe your presence sparks enough electricity to keep his heart pumping, just for a little while, and maybe he can wait until things actually start going downhill before he lets you go. Maybe he can remember how to be a human for a bit, maybe he can pretend he is. 

“I just… don’t want to do something I can’t take back,” he whispers. “Not with you. You’re the… the only good thing I have left. I don’t know what I’d do if I…”

“That’s sweet, but I’m not as weak as you think I am,” you reply. “I’ve held out this long, haven’t I? Put more faith in me.”

He smiles.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

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[hajihiko]

My friend Hajimmy Hinata birthday post🎆🎉