#and i am so tired of knowing that the good things ive clawed my way into over the past 4 years are over forever and i cant go back

[bluesidedown]

:'(

#I'm so lonely and it really really sucks #i can ignore it 80% of the time but im just so so lonely that nothing feels really genuinely ok and good #i miss my friends. i miss my community. i miss singing in chapel and hearing all the voices #and i just want to go spill my guts all over the floor of my friend's room and sort through them together #and cry and pray about it #and then go be ridiculous and unhinged and joyful #and i am so tired of knowing that the good things ive clawed my way into over the past 4 years are over forever and i cant go back #and yeah i still carry so much good with me #and yeah there qill be other good things #but I cant go back and have it all over again. and i miss it. #and it really hurts. and im lonely.

[midnight-pluto]

For the follower event, could you do a Percy Jackson x gn reader

Trope: Childhood friends to Lovers, Angst

AU: Riordanverse

Format: Songfic (Nowhere King's Last Lullaby from Centaur World and it's on YouTube)

Plot: Reader gets cursed to be monster, loses their mind or sanity and cause chaos on camp so Percy has to kill him but is so conflicted

Note: you can change parts of this for a smoother writing

CURSE — percy j.

TROPES: childhood friends to lovers, angst

UNIVERSE: riordanverse

PAIRING(S): percy jackson x gn!reader

WARNING(S): reader is kinda suicidal, graphic violence is described

A/N: im sorry if this is sloppy ive been working on a lot of projects rn so I’m lowk kinda burntout but i hope this is good enough <3 (ALSO TUMBLR I AM BEGGING YOU TO SAVE MY STUFF)

“What a Pity to Behold,”

A MONSTER ON the lose in Camp Half-Blood was never untold before, but this time was different.

Black wings adorned its back contrasted by it’s scaly skin and forked tongue, and wide eyes searching the area as its long claws dug into the Earth. It appeared to be humanoid — well, as humanoid as an eight foot tall monster could get.

The campers were in panic, Chiron shooting arrows at it while the Aphrodite kids were dragging the children of Hypnos out of their cabin as to not get crushed. The Hephaestus kids dragged out the weaponry they could manage to get their hands on and loaded them and the Athena kids were desperately searching on what myth this creature appeared in.

Percy was in his pajamas when this all happened.

Running out of his cabins door with Riptide in hand, he had not expected the monster to look directly at him and open its mouth as if it’s ready to devour him specifically. It turned its large body around to look at him.

“Rest Now, Tormented Soul.”

Realizing that of course, this unknown monster would want to target him specifically he ran towards the water in hopes that this was one of the dumb ones who didn’t know fully who he was.

Looking behind him for a brief moment he saw that the monster wasn’t running after him, just walking as if it had all the time in the world. He took cautious steps back and observed its figure and its large wings, scaly skin and outstretched hand.

“If you want to be a knock-off zombie, at least try to make yourself look like one,” Percy taunted, making the monster pause and close its outstretched hand as if observing its own talons.

Seeing that’s it’s now distracted, Percy took this as a moment of opportunity to summon the waves to bring the monster into the lake. As the tide rose and kept on dragging the monster into the water, he saw that it didn’t struggle — in fact, it seemed to not notice it at all until it was dragging it into the deepened.

Thrashing in the water, Percy took one last look at it before realizing it wasn’t a ginormous talon reaching out from the water — it was a regular human hand, and then two before a familiar face rose from the water giving him a longing look. “Percy!”

“Don’t you know I would have loved you the way you were whole?”

Not thinking twice of his actions, he dives into the water and immediately swims to you. Holding your now scaly body in his arms, a bubble forms around you both as it floats to the bottom of the sandy floor.

“Y/N? What happened?” Percy mutters frantically, taking in your new form.

The dark raven wings still on your back — presumably what was weighing you down in the water — scales now decorating patches of your skin, hair now wet and your height reverted to your usual self. It was you.

You place a tired hand on his cheek, “The gods, are horrible beings.” The moment you say those words, a scream erupts from your mouth, body jolting in pain, “I suppose this is the way, they chose to punish me.”

“Punish you? What— oh.”

“So, Hush Now. Time to Move on Evermore.”

Percy has always been open to you about the gods and all the things he’s experienced in his. From the abuse and trauma to the bittersweet victories and memories, he never hid anything from you. And oh, how he regrets it now.

He went to you when he a nightmare about one of previous battles of the wars he fought in, tears flowing from his cheeks as he laid his head on your shoulder. He heard you. The gods heard you. They heard you say:

“The gods are selfish beings, you don’t deserve all the pain you’ve gone through, Percy. If I had the chance to share a fraction of what you’ve gone through to make the burden all the less to bare, I would take it.”

Percy swallowed thickly, barely letting out a whisper, “What do I do?”

Your eyes soften at the sight in front of you, no longer wanting the boy you and so many others treasure to feel so lost, “Kill me.”

“To Open your very Last Door, I will Help you Turn the Key.”

“What?” he rasps out breathlessly, “No, I can’t— I can’t do that. Not to you—“

“Percy, please,” you beg, eyes beginning to well up with tears, “We can’t be trapped in this bubble forever.”

“No I just, I just need more time,” he reasons to himself, “I just have to talk to Chiron— Mr. D. Even! I just— I just need time.”

Your eyes let the tears roll down your cheeks as you both silently beg the other to make a move, a decision though you both had entirely different intentions — one planning to die and the other wanting them both to leave alive.

Slowly reaching your hand towards his back pocket, his eyes widen at your actions yet can’t bring himself to stop you. Taking Riptide out, you gently place it into his that was holding your shoulder, “Do it.”

“When you Leave, I will at Last have Peace.”

Body trembling, he nods his head and leaves your body laying on the sandy ground. You turn to look at him as he uncaps the pen, turning into a shimmering bronze you’ve always admired.

“I’m so sorry,” he choked out, holding Riptide so it’s blade was facing your chest as if it were guillotine, his eyes squeezed shut.

Smiling at his actions, you close your eyes as the cool metal punctures the scales that you once called skin, a constant flow of tears streaming at the pain of being vaporized yet the relief of death.

As your body gradually succumbed into becoming golden dust, Percy opened his eyes one last time and saw that your body was now back as it used to be — your regular colored skin back where it’s meant to be, and the dark wings weighing you down turned to dust.

Percy’s body crumpled to the ground next to you, muttering apologies and repeating ‘I love you’s’ close to your ear to which you smile and look at his tear ridden eyes saying one last declaration of love to him, “Thank you, Percy. For everything.”

“And our World will Finally be Free.”

A dark void is where you laid, but you couldn’t feel anything. Anything but pain. It felt as if needles were poking you in all directions, the pain dull yet sharp enough to keep you alert.

But then, it was like one of your eyes had been opened as you saw clouds floating in the sky. But those weren’t your clouds, and that wasn’t your sky. The clouds were a color akin to blood and the sky was a depressing gray.

You didn’t know how long it had been, but sometime later you were able to inhale again — breathe. The air wasn’t crisp or fresh — not like you were expecting it to since the clouds were literally red — it was acidic. As if you could feel the toxins.

It was even more time later before you could hear. Hear the loud whines and screams echoing across the plane where you laid. You could only wish to cover your ears to block the sound out.

But then you could. You were able to move your own body with no longer sharp pain piercing you at all sides, just your feet. You look down to see what you’ve been standing on and see black shards. They were stretching for miles, and that was when you finally pieced the picture together. “I’m in Tartarus?”

A/N: i forgot how fun Greek mythology is — my 200 follower event is still ongoing so feel free to request whatever (I might extend the time period since not even half of the requests slots have been filled)

#rin’s 200 follower event [🧸] #rin’s shots 🤎 #pjo asker anon #pjo x you #pjo x reader #pjo angst #pjo #percy jackson x gn reader #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #angst

[froggyworlds]

ugh fuck listen. I’m on mobile and the formatting on here is whack idk how to put things under the cut on mobile I’m sorry. inspired by the HTB AU, tw for suicide and body horror and all the usual fun mandela catalyst things

update: got the cut in there.

it was all good until things went wrong.

okay. okay, that was a lie. it stings a little in the back of his throat, even now, even when lies are all he is. it is? he isn’t really sure, and bites his tongue a little too hard and is met with something thick and tasteless that definitely isn’t blood.

Adam spits it out with a gag, ignoring how it’s darker than red.

^ my skin is not my own. ^

no fucking shit.

he sucks a breath into lungs that don’t need air, and wonders briefly if he ever really needed to breathe at all, or if this whole time it’d just been one big lie.

as noted before: he’s made up of lies.

^ lies and shadow and static. ^

he feels his eyelids start to droop, not in a really tired way, but in a my-humanity-is-slowly-seeping-out-through-the-cracks-in-my-body-into-the-floorboards-and-my-eyelids-feel-like-they’re-lined-with-needles way.

no. no, he cannot close his eyes. they’re too far open and if he sinks he doubts he’ll be able to claw his way to the surface again. it’s so dark back there.

^ I am a cog in the machine. ^

he can’t feel anything. it’s not an entirely foreign sensation, but in this context it makes awful sense that he wishes it didn’t.

it’s bizarre, for certain: being… vaguely aware, somewhat, of your surroundings, but every detail becomes blurred, every emotion only half-processed. his screams don’t even reach his own ears, but his throat still burns with anguished, staticky wails and the taste of chlorine and saltwater and soap.

^ please, just fucking kill me. ^

Adam’s skin feels awfully like rubber, and moving makes the partially-melted substance shift over his bones horrifically uncomfortably, so he can’t even bring it in himself to try and get up. not that he really wants to. he’d be content to sit here until he rots, until the thing in his mind with him dies.

he has a terrible feeling, though, that if one half of him has to go, his humanity will drain first. it already is, in a steady drip-drip-drip like a leaky tap or an IV filled with black ichor instead of plasma, into a murky puddle that stains his palms and soles of his feet.

^ there’s not enough room for the both of us. ^

except there’s only ever been one of it. it was wearing a very well-crafted mask, and it has worn that mask for a very, very long time, but there was never an internal war to be had for long. it remembers now. it knows what it is, and it knows that Adam Murray died 17 years ago.

he shoves that away. no, no, he's alive. he has to be. there must've been something there that was real: the way his fingers felt intertwined with someone else's, the way cheap arcade pizza always tasted better when he was eating it on a date with Evelin. the way a laugh tasted in his eyes when Jonah told a stupid joke, the way his teeth ached whenever he stared at the mirror for too long even though he couldn't remember what he was looking for, the feeling of metal against skin even though it never cut through, stop, stop it, stop fucking messing with my head.

^ PLEASE, JUST GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HEAD. ^

he hates the way his skin feels like plastic shrink wrap over his tendons, shifting around inside him like an action figure over an open flame. without really thinking, he puts a hand over his mouth and forces out a sob into it; why would he have to force out a sob? crying is one of the most natural things to do in this situation.

oh. that answers itself. crying is the most human reaction.

^ I’m not the real me. ^

he hasn’t stopped to breathe in a little while now. he doesn’t cry anymore, but he thinks there is something streaking down his cheeks, blurring his vision even more.

coils and claws grab the back of his mind and yank downwards, and instead of gasping for air he grasps for purchase on the slippery glass-smoothness of reality, trying to hold himself away from the cracks that it knows it would be oh-so-easy to slither into. it cannot close its eyes now.

^ my eyes are wide open. ^

Adam (or whatever it is that’s been Adam since it killed him) screams again, jaw swinging open like a door on broken hinges. it can’t keep clinging on like this. sooner or later it- he will falter.

^ no one is coming to help me. ^

Sarah and Evelin wouldn’t. what reason would hey have to? neither of them owe Adam anything. they probably wouldn’t even recognize him as the Adam they know if they were to see it now, curled up and screaming and frantically trying to hold onto his humanity as his insides roil.

who would even come into this house on accident? generally peoples’ first instinct when they hear a static-filled scream is to run in the opposite direction.

so he's fucked. that's it. he's going to lose himself here, and that's that. he can almost hear his friends' the others' voices clamoring inside his head, shouting nonsense ranging from weather reports to "are you still there?" to "Adam, please, I know you're in there-" to "we always knew you were weak." it doesn't make sense, it's just pointless cacophony, and Adam thinks that might be the point.

^ PLEASE, JUST FUCKING KILL ME. ^

Adam curls into himself a little more and keeps screaming.

#mandela catalyst #adam murray #alternate adam murray #the mandela catalogue #tmc fic #tmc #the mandela catalogue fic #tw suicide #tw body horror #ask to tag #godd I’m so tired sorryyy #might post. same/similar scene but fairly different vibe. maybe tomorrow #god I can’t keep my eyes open anymore #I’m literally abt to pass out lmao #mmmkkkk gnight #stay safe out there guys #mythic's drabbles

[doggirl08-moved]

sometimes i feel like i love people to much that's its suffocating my dad says i smother my dog i don't know what that means since I'm just hugging him i always wave and my hug my dad even when he hates it and wants to push me off but i am so scared for losing someone i am so scared they will never know how much i love them and this happened today i have a friend named Samantha she is dear to me and she will always be shes a light in my dark stormy night to lead me to a safe path we decided to call which i enjoy since i always laugh i look forward to it every few weeks or so even though we text everyday but i invited my online friend hoping it would just be for a few minutes i started to get antsy of course i was having fun but its not our usual and that's scary to do something new and unknown i quickly apologized to her trying to fix my invisible mistakes like shes my lawyer and she just told me its okay why are you apgloziging i could only help but stare at my screen and try to piece it together why am i feeling this way i don't know why or how i was suddenly upset but i was we got off after discussing it and i went to dad the only thing he said was shes probably tired and that's why she wants to go a bit early and i just couldn't shake the feeling i gave a lengthy apology after apology after apology and after taking a good long look at myself a pit of loneliness crashed into me was i just began yping about how i am scared to lose her how i am scared to ruin anything how this is perfect and cannot be changed and what if something happens my whole life i have been ripped away while clawing someone to pieces since i need them my youngest memory is clawing my mothers back from my sharp nails begging not to go to my dads and how much i hurt her and how hard i cried and i think everyone telling me and depending on me and me needing to depend on others has hurt me alot i care too much and i think too much it doesnt help when you have a bluent not touchy family but ij ust want to claw them to death show them how much i love them and the lengths ill go to show it since i truely do and how scared i am for something to happen since ive had so much taken away from me i have had my body taken away i have had my mother taken away my house my toys my sister my dad my uncle food water privacy and my deepest desires my emotions and feelings have been ripped away and i need to grab into them and claw them again to show they are mine and i love them this is not good to think about not good at all but i just love them so much it hurts and makes me want to cry and shatter into a million pieces every dumb mistake or crack in the road slip up or scratch makes me just want to crawl all over them and smother them and protect them so muchand show them i love you please dont go anytime soon this is how much i love you how hard i squeeze you and sink my hands into you is how much i just want to hug your inner you

#Diary #Sometimes I wish I wasnt me I was more like my sister I didn't cry over love or anything but djifkm

[lillllbabygirl]

i just really can't take this anymore. any of it. i'm like. done. i am just done. and i am tired. i am so fucking tired. i have this constant headache. i'm fighting so fucking hard no body has any fucking idea how hard i am fighting just to keep fighting, and i am so fucking tired, i am truly just so fucking tired, i can barely take it anymore. i just don't know what to do anymore. i truly can't live a life like this. i can however so 100x better, but no ones given me the chance, nothing's giving me the chance, nothing is letting up. off of my fucking back, and i can't carry all this shit alone anymore. i want forward, but everything's BELIEVE ME, everything's bringing me back, and i can't take it anymore, i really... just can't. i'm the strongest, toughest, most unforgivably hopeful and driven, and solution seeking person i know, and have ever known by far. i truly truly fucking care when i say i care i mean that at least 10x more than you hear it, and i am so tired i can't even have room for my own thoughts anymore, i don't feel like me, i feel fucking used and disgusted with myself and the person that lays here right now, and everyday, is nothing but me, and nothing of a lack of trying and caring and trying to be just as genuinely me as any other fucking day since day 1, since the start. but there are so many days that go by now where i am completely stepped on, and disregarded, and left out of everything that seems like normal and functioning, and social, and just existing, and i'm truly, GOD, I AM TRULY SO FUCKING TIRED OF IT. i just want to be a person and idk why that seems so difficult to me because i have never stopped trying with every inch of me, and i just don't get why i am going no where. i've tried DETACHING, IVE TRIED EVERYTHING AND NOTHING MY POINT IS, I KNOW NO BODY IS GOING TO SAVE ME BUT ME BUT I DIDNT EVEN FUCK MYSELF IN THE FIRST PLACE AND I DIDNT FILL MY PLATE UP LIKE THIS I DIDNT MAKE THE STUPID DECISIONS THAT OTHER PEOPLE MADE FOR ME AND FUCKED ME SO SEVERELY AND ITS TRULY THE SADDEST THING TO SEE MYSELF LIKE THIS BECAUSE I AM REALLY STRUGGLING AND SUFFERING AND FOR SOMEONE WHO HAS NOT EVER STOPPED DOING THAT I KNOW YOU CANT IMAGINE WHAT ITS LIKE FOR ME BECAUSE EVERYBODY I KNOW AT SOME POINT HAS HAD A FUCKING BREAK BUT MY INCREDIBLE AND MOVING AND UNBELIEVABLY RESILIENT STORY AND IMMOVABLE SELF IS SO FUCKING TIRED LORD GOD SOMEBODY JUST READ THIS AND KNOW THAT I AM SO FUCKING TIRED AND TRULY FEEL ME AND EMPATHIZE WITH ME PLEASE BECAUSE THIS SHIT IS LONELY AND I DONT NEED ATTENTION I NEED FUCKING HELP AND IM DONE WITH JUST OF GETTING STARTED ASKING AND IM DONE PUSHING SO HARD TIRELESSLY AT THESE WALLS CLOSING IN ON ME AND IM DONE SELF LOATHING AND IM DONE SELF PITYING AND CRYING AND CLIMBING BUT REALLY JUST CLAWING AT THESE WALLS FOR A WAY UP OUT OF THIS FUCKING HOLE THAT NO BODY SEES AND IM SO TIRED OF BEING SO FUCKING SEEMINGLY OPEN AND HAPPY AND OKAY AND FORGIVING AND UNDERSTANDING AND TOLERANT AND FUNCTIONING AND SEEMING LIKE I AM SURVIVING ALL THIS BULLSHIT BECAUSE IM REALLY REALLY REALLY JUST FUCKING NOT I AM AN AMAZING SMART TALENTED PERSON BUT ALL THOSE ADJECTIVES MEAN NOTHING WHEN THIS IS WHAT I LIVE WITH THESE FUCKING HUGE ASS WALLS WHILE EVERYTHING SEEMS OUT IN THE OPEN AND GOOD AND OKAY AND ITS REALLY JUST NOT! ITS NOT OKAY? I AM NOT OKAY AND I HAVENT EVER BEEN okay OR good, AND THATS ALWAYS THE FUCKING ANSWER YOUVE HEARD FROM ME BECAUSE ITS AUTOMATIC BUT TO BE REAL WITH YOU I HAVEN'T EVER MET SOMEBODY WITH WALLS AS BIG AS MINE AND IS STILL SURVIVING DOWN HERE WHILE STARVING ITS NEARLY IMPOSSIBLE AND THIS STRES IS KILLING ME AND I DONT CARE WHAT ANYBODY SAYS. I DONT CARE. I AM TIRED. I AM AWAKE. THERES NO DIFFERENCE, IN THE START AND FINISH OF THE DAY TO ME IM THIS TIRED CONTINUOUSLY, IM THIS HURT ALL THE FUCKING TIME AND IM SO SORE AND I FEEL SO FUCKING FULL OF SHIT FOR TRYING TO BE OKAY ALLLLLL THIS MOTHER FUCKING TIME WHEN I DONT EVEN HAVE A SENSE OF FUCKING TIME SO WHATS THE POINT IN SPENDING IT IN THE FIRST PLACE? EVERYTHING IVE WANTED FEELS LIKE ITS GONE TO ME AND EVERYTHING

I AM FEELS LIKE IT WEARING AWAY. AND FOR GODS SAKE I AM SO FUCKING TIRED.

but today, just like any other day, i go to sleep feeling sleepless and wakeless at the same time, and ready for the end of the day to start at the beginning again. and somebody not to hear me whining about how i truly feel, because i'd rather secretly wither away, than stare sympathy in the face of the people i just want to say, they're proud of me, and for me to really agree and feel that way because of the accomplishments i've made. no more sitting in place, begging for a damn thing, but providing things to show how i truly feel and who i am today is something to be mattered with. idek if thats a fucking word, but fuck it, means something, i'm too tired anyway, i've said, and done enough now. no this is not a suicide letter, how could i kill myself, when i'm already otw. anyways. fuck this. shit. goodnight/goodmorning. & welcome to my world, & a little time incomprehensible piece of my head. you're welcome. :) congratulations.

#im crazy apparently #hi

[just-a-small-town-dork]

I have a question, why am i like this? I have been sitting in my dorm room all afternoon wanting to do something, its nice outside so reading outside sounds like a good idea and i have so many books both new and old but I dont want to read any of them, not that i don't want to but that i can't they aren't what im looking for.

ok why don't I watch some tv or a movie I have a whole list of new ones i've been wanting to watch and acess to all of my old favorites but nope I don't want to watch any thing but thats not exactly it becasue its not that i don't want to its that none of them feel right. So i think i'll draw for a bit but i cant think of a meidum to use to draw or a thing to draw, not that i don't have ideas, but none of them feel quite right. I want to go for a walk but I feel too weak, I feel to weak because I barely ate but i only barely ate because even all of my safe foods weren't quite what im looking for.

Ok so i'll listen to some music, ok great this is working puting on my drown it all out playlist but uh oh! nope you are not allowed to go past this song, you have to keep replaying it, it's the only thing so far that has eve come close to stasfiying that feeling so I latch onto it and think maybe i can get myself moving by playing this song on the ukelele or finish up that project im working on, writting out my favorite fan fics onto a note book so i can read a physical copy instead of always reading off my phone but nope, nuh uh, stop right there, none of those are gonna work so now im just sitting here, in my room on my bed, depressed and in a funk.

I could call somone in my family and talk to them but who and about what? no that won't work. what about my friends, I dont want to miss out and be anti social but i dont think i can handle being around other people right now besides i dont want to bother them and what would i even say? I could always call my old friends from back home but no because im too insecure right now and ive been too stressed that they hate me and besides what would i talk about? nope not that either, ok what about a nap? maybe? no... i dont know, typing on tumblr helped, but i cant do that for an eternity...

Am I the only memebr of the broken brain (ND) club that gets this feeling, probably not because ive learned as ive grown up that pretty much every part of my personality is a symptom of one of my disorders but still, do any other ND people out there get like this? How do you cope? How do you keep going? I refuse to let my brain win and go back to the dark place spent years clawing my way out of but days like today make it really really hard to remeber why i keep fighting, becuase im tired and its really hard.

#neurodivergent #neurodiverse stuff #Broken Brain Club #Wtf is up with my brain #ocd #adhd #anxiety #depression

[babyfacedscum]

I want to cut myself so bad. I want to stop eating. I want to kill myself. Im very tired of being alive and I hate being perceived by other people. I fucking stupid and obnoxious and weird and I genuinely don’t understand how anyone can stand to be around me. The one person that was supposed to be in my life forever doesn’t seem to really give a shit whether im around or not and I guess its easy for her because she just found a replacement. I guess as long as you have your token Mexican that you can leech even an ounce of culture from youre good right? Because I mean Hispanic guys just desperately want to fuck you right? So as long as you keep one around to enable your dumbass behavior, you can do whatever you want! And its clearly not me, because you couldnt be fucking bothered to make any time for me or even for a second make an attempt to remember a single fucking thing I tell you. As long as its on your schedule thats all that matters and im only important to you when you get fucking bored I guess??? Why else are you asking to hang out with me? Pity? Because you feel like you hav some kind of obligation? Because when we did hang out all we did was sit there and then you tried to get me high an hour before I had to leave. And its funny to you I guess? That I don’t have to take hit after hit just to get high? Maybe because im actually trying to do something with my life and I don’t have the fucking privilege to just sit around getting high 24/7. Maybe this is why people hate me. Im too much. I do too much. I talk too much. I need to stop. I need to calm down and be quiet and probably just finally kill myself and save everyone from having to be around me. I don’t even want to be around me I cant imagine how other people feel when they have to deal with me. I always feel like im doing something wrong. Like what im supposed to be doing is right there but I just cant figure it out because im so fucking stupid. What’s wrong with me? What did I do wrong. Where did I make the first mistake and is there literally anything I can do to fix it? I mean ive been fucking annoying my entire fucking life so maybe if I just shut the fuck up for once it would help. I don’t think I want to eat anymore. I don’t even want to be a person. I don’t want to be in this body. I feel like im falling apart. Like this body wasn’t supposed to exist. I wasn’t supposed to exist. Something went wrong. Something just isnt right and I don’t know how to fix it. No I do. I know how to fix it and its just shutting the fuck up and not being the way I am. Or the easier answer is just killing myself but I know im too much of a coward to do it. I want to make myself throw up so bad. I feel so gross for eating and i just want to puke it up. I shouldn’t have asked mommy to bring me food. I shouldn’t have eaten that. I wish I could pull my organs out. I don’t know what that would do but I feel like it would do something. I want to pull out my tongue and claw out my eyes and just kill myself. I want to die so badly. What’s the point of being alive when no one fucking likes you and nothing ever goes right. Im such a piece of shit and I don’t deserve to be alive. Im taking up too much space and doing too much all the time. I don’t know why people pretend to like me. They should have never tried to be my friends because now I know they just feel like they cant get rid of me. They’re my friends but im not theirs. I know people hate me. I hate me. I don’t blame them. Why cant I just stop existing. Im so tired. Im so over it. I don’t want to do this anymore. Im sorry. Just tell me what to do and ill fix it I promise. Im sorry

[stolen-pen-name23]

13 for the prompts? (If it hasn’t been done yet) with obi wan and qui gon because yes 💜

I sure can! Thank you for the prompt! // From these prompts.

So I think I'm going to actually write a prequel chapter (or 2) for this fic later, so keep an eye out for that!

Anyway, here ya go:

---

As a Jedi connected to the Living Force, Qui-Gon has greater respect than most for life — human or otherwise. So for a practitioner of the Living Force, it is a little unusual for him to feel this homicidal.

No, Qui-Gon has rarely felt rage quite like this.

Of course, he does not want the people… No, wait. "People" is too kind of a word for them. He does not want the vermin slavers who did this to his Padawan to die. He just wants them to suffer for a bit. Suffer like his Padawan is currently suffering — and maybe a bit more after that.

“Let me go!” Obi-Wan screams, pulling on the restraints holding him in place on the bed. Neither Qui-Gon nor Vokara Che had wanted to do this — not after Obi-Wan had just been freed from chains — but he was clawing at his skin and objects around the room had started floating with every aimless gesture of his hands. “Please, Master, let me go,” he begs, his voice raw from screaming.

“Soon, Padawan, soon,” Qui-Gon soothes. “The drugs just need to work their way through your system.”

The logic was lost on Obi-Wan. The young man before him, just barely 18, looks as though he has been betrayed.

“Let me go. Please let me go. I need to stop it, I need…”

“Stop what?” Qui-Gon prods, hoping that humoring his padawan will help him work through it faster.

“Stop him.”

“Who?”

“The man!” he says it plainly like it is a well-known fact who the man is.

“What man?”

“The man with the scar on his eye.”

Qui-Gon tries to think through everyone he knows. He can’t think of a single person with a scar on their eye.

“What is the man’s name?”

“I don’t know,” Obi-Wan says, frustration mixing into the fear that hangs potent in his Force presence.

“Why do you have to stop him?”

Obi-Wan stops straining against his bonds and his eyes clear momentarily. The sudden stillness feels heavy — like something lying in wait.

“He will tear everything down,” Obi-Wan turns to look at Qui-Gon and his eyes are clear and certain. “Everything.”

A chill runs down Qui-Gon’s spine.

Then the fog returns. Obi-Wan strains against his bonds once more.

“Let me go. Let me out. I’m not supposed to be here!”

“You are exactly where you need to be, my Padawan.”

“No no no no no.” There is a crazed look of hysteria in his eyes. It is so unnatural an expression for his Padawan, Qui-Gon almost cannot bear to look. But he looks anyway because he swore to stand by his Padawan’s side through all things, even this.

“Stop!” Obi-Wan screams. “Stop it! Please! I don’t want to hurt you!”

Qui-Gon shifts uncomfortably. “Who are you talking to?” he asks.

“You were my brother!”

What?

“You… Obi-Wan, you don’t have a brother,” Qui-Gon stutters. Who is he talking about?

Obi-Wan tosses his head to the side and then tosses it again until he’s looking at Qui-Gon.

“Let me go!” Obi-Wan yells.

“So there’s been no change huh?” A female voice cuts in.

Qui-Gon jumps. His attention was so fixed on Obi-Wan, he didn't notice Vokara Che slip into the room.

“What the hell did they drug him with?” Qui-Gon growls, his anger threatening to spill over at just the thought of the slavers and what they did to Obi-Wan.

“We’re still running tests on his blood. But we narrowed it down to some sort of hallucinogen.”

“I could have told you that,” Qui-Gon mutters.

Vokara fixes him with one of her strongest glares.

“Apologies, Master Che,” he amends. “I am just concerned for him.”

“I know,” Vokara says. Qui-Gon is grateful that she does not tell him to release his anxieties to the Force. He is not quite ready to part with them yet.

“Do you have any idea how long this will last?” Qui-Gon asks, hoping this nightmare will end soon.

“It’s hard to say. It depends on his body and how fast it works through the drugs. Hallucinogens can last six hours or they can last as long as fifteen hours.”

“It’s only been three hours,” Qui-Gon says, feeling sick at the possibility of his Padawan enduring this for twelve more hours.

Vokara squeezes his shoulder in sympathy. “He’s a strong boy,” Vokara said. “A strong young man, I should say,” she adds on. “He’ll make it through this. I can’t say for certain without knowing what exactly is in his system, but most hallucinogenic drugs don’t cause any permanent damage.” “Most?”

“What I’m saying is that I think your Padawan will be okay. I have him on an IV so he won’t get dehydrated, which is usually the biggest concern with hallucinogens.”

Qui-Gon turns his attention back to Obi-Wan. Sweat has matted his hair and his skin is a sickly pale color. His screaming has turned into sobbing.

“Why are you doing this to me?” he cries. He pulls at the restraints. “I don’t like these.”

“We don’t want you to hurt yourself,” Vokara says calmly. She runs a scanner over Obi-Wan’s body and looks at the readings. Whether it is good or bad, Qui-Gon is not sure. Her expression gave nothing away.

“If anything changes, please come get me,” Vokara says.

Qui-Gon nods. “Of course.”

Vokara takes her leave and Qui-Gon gives his undivided attention to Obi-Wan.

“Let me go,” Obi-Wan begs again.

“I can’t,” Qui-Gon says. “You heard Master Che. It’s for your own safety.”

Obi-Wan groans. “What is happening to me?”

Qui-Gon’s heart feels like it is breaking open in his chest.

“I’m so sorry that this is happening to you, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon says “You’ll be okay soon.”

“But what’s happening?” Obi-Wan asks. Qui-Gon is hopeful that this moment of partial clarity lasts. Obi-Wan has been giving him false hope over the past few hours. Moments of clarity, all chased away by delirium.

“You’ve been drugged,” Qui-Gon says.

“Oh. I feel weird. I feel… not good. Hot.”

“Do you want some water?” Qui-Gon asks.

Obi-Wan looks like he’s going to answer, but his eyes glaze over and he is no longer looking at Qui-Gon.

“I keep seeing…”

“Obi-Wan?” Qui-Gon asks.

“I see…”

“What do you see, Padawan?” Qui-Gon asks, hoping he’ll be able to help Obi-Wan realize his hallucinations aren’t real.

“No!” Obi-Wan screams.

Qui-Gon’s hope vanishes. With a sigh, he begins stroking Obi-Wan’s sweat-drenched hair, smoothing it out from all of his tossing and turning.

Hours of begging and screaming and pulling at restraints pass until it seems Obi-Wan’s body is exhausted beyond its limits. His howls turn to whimpers. His sobs turn to hitched breaths. And finally, he passes out. Qui-Gon sighs a breath of relief and prays to the Force that when his Padawan wakes up, he will be his Padawan once more.

***

Qui-Gon can sense Obi-Wan coming back to consciousness before he even notices him stirring. He squints at the bright light of the room and groans.

Obi-Wan tries to move his arm but is held back by the restraints still keeping him down. Panic sets itself in Obi-Wan’s widened eyes.

“Why am I… M-Master?” His chest heaves with growing panic and he starts pulling at the bonds with renewed vigor.

“Hey, hey, Obi-Wan. It’s me. You’re alright,” Qui-Gon says, moving into his line of sight. Obi-Wan stares at him, unblinking and terrified. “What do you see right now?”

Obi-Wan hesitates. “I see you. I… I see this room. There’s not much in it.”

“Okay, good. Can you take a few deep breaths for me while I got get Master Che?”

“You’re leaving?” Obi-Wan asks, his voice going an octave higher.

“Only for a moment. You need to get looked over before I can let you out of those things,” Qui-Gon says, gesturing to the restraints with disdain.

Obi-Wan eyes the restraints and nods his approval.

Qui-Gon races out to find Master Che and she follows him back to Obi-Wan’s room.

“Hello, Obi-Wan,” Vokara says in greeting. “Are you feeling better?”

He nods glumly but does not offer her much else.

“All right, well I’m just going to perform a quick examination okay?”

Obi-Wan nods his consent and Vokara gets to work.

“I’m going to take these restraints off of your hands and ankles all right?”

He nods vigorously and Vokara undoes the buckles. When his hands are freed, Obi-Wan rubs his wrists. They’ve been chaffed raw and the skin is an angry red.

Vokara does not judge. She does not say a word about the welts. She simply takes a jar of bacta gel and rubs it on Obi-Wan’s wrists.

“Those should feel better in a few hours,” she says. Vokara follows the gentle administration with a blood sample. She runs a scanner over his body.

“Your vitals are normal, which is a good sign,” Vokara says. “I’m going to run your labs, and after that, we can see about letting you go home to rest.”

No protests, no haggling, no complaints come from Obi-Wan at the prospect of staying in the halls of healing even longer. Even Vokara raises an eyebrow at this.

“Are you sure you’re feeling better?” she asks. “Any nausea? Headache?”

“A little,” he says softly. Vokara exchanges a glance with Qui-Gon at the admittance.

“That’s pretty normal,” she says. “Is there anything else bothering you? Any other pain?”

“Just tired.”

“That’s to be expected after what your body has been through.”

“Hmm.”

“I’m going to run these labs, but let me know if your headache gets worse or if you feel like you need to throw up.”

He nods obediently.

Vokara leaves Qui-Gon alone with his Padawan.

Obi-Wan’s face scrunches up in concentration.

“What is it, Padawan?”

“There was something… something important…” Obi-Wan starts. Some of his earlier panic starts to return and his chest begins to heave. “I saw it. I just… I don’t know...”

“Hush, it’s alright. None of it was real,” Qui-Gon soothes.

“No!” Obi-Wan says forcefully, and for a moment, Qui-Gon worries the drug has not completely left his system yet. “It was… it felt…”

“How did it feel?” Qui-Gon asks.

Fear, sorrow, and anguish all flash across Obi-Wan’s eyes. His fingers dance in a nervous tapping pattern on the frame of the bed.

“How did it feel?” Qui-Gon asks again.

Obi-Wan stops tapping his fingers.

“Like the end of all things.”

The young man is still, as though he is afraid that the next move he makes will set his visions on a path to fruition.

“You need to stay grounded, Padawan. Stay in the here and now.”

Anger flared in the Force — white-hot and foreign.

“Oh yeah? You try to stay grounded after you get kidnapped by slavers and then drugged with some unknown substance that makes you question everything you see and feel,” Obi-Wan snaps.

Qui-Gon gives him a moment. He needs a moment.

Obi-Wan’s face crumples and he buries his head in his hands. “I’m sorry,” he says, voice muffled by his own hands. His shoulders shake. “I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s alright, Padawan. You’ve been through a lot in the last 48 hours. I will not fault you for taking a tone with me.”

Obi-Wan offers him a strained laugh and he wipes at his eyes before looking back up at Qui-Gon. “I just…”

“Tell me, Padawan. Anything.”

“Is this real?”

“Yes, Obi-Wan. This is real.” Qui-Gon grabs Obi-Wan’s hand and squeezes it. “Feel this?”

Obi-Wan nods.

“That’s because it is real. You and I. Here and now. We are real.”

Obi-Wan takes in a shuddering breath. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Qui-Gon reaffirms.

Obi-Wan nods. “Okay.”

“Good.”

Qui-Gon reaches over and tugs on Obi-Wan’s braid.

“Hey!” Obi-Wan exclaims, rubbing his scalp. “What was that for?”

“For scaring me,” Qui-Gon says, giving Obi-Wan a faux look of reproach.

“Apologies, Master,” Obi-Wan says. “I’ll try not to let it happen again.”

“See that it doesn’t.”

Obi-Wan grins at him before yawning.

“You should get some rest.”

Obi-Wan shakes his head, but he yawns again.

“You are obviously tired,” Qui-Gon says, unimpressed. “Why don’t you want to sleep?”

“I don’t…”

“Yes, Padawan?”

“If I fall asleep, will you stay?” Obi-Wan finally says, his voice quiet and his cheeks flush with embarrassment. “You don’t have to,” he quickly adds on. “I just. I don’t want to be alone and I’m still not sure if any of this is real and I want it to be real, but I—”

“Of course I will stay,” Qui-Gon says. “You’re real, I’m real, and I’m staying.”

“Thanks, Master,” Obi-Wan says, his eyes fluttering closed.

Qui-Gon stays and keeps guard over Obi-Wan’s dreams.

#my writing #tw non consensual drug use #tw mentions of slavery #obi wan kenobi #qui gon jinn

[prurientpuddlejumper]

A Lipless Face That I Want to Marry, Ch. 16

<- Part 15 | Part 17 ->

Summary: A flirtatious moment in the hospital garden turns sour. 

Warnings: Brief nsfw themes, injury-recovery angst, post-traumatic stress/flashbacks, graphic past injuries, KISSING, hurt/comfort. Love and fluff. 

3,700 words

After being gutted left him with a limp, a cane, and an overbearing sense of weakness, Frederick Chilton began copying Hannibal Lecter. His patterned suits, his clean-shaven face. The mimicry wasn’t deliberate exactly, but he looked to a man who radiated calm dignity and strength, and tried to capture some of it for his own.

It didn’t work. Frederick Chilton was still Frederick Chilton.

But shaving the beard did make him look younger. The razor glided over his smooth cheek as he cut through the facial hair that had grown unruly in the hospital. A new man stared back at him. One not traumatized by Gideon’s knife.

Only a few months later, he was shot in the face, and let the stubble grow back to distract from the scar. To obscure the hollowing where maxillary bone was missing. Like a chameleon, Frederick was always changing—hairstyles, wardrobes, colognes—always imitating someone, drawing the eye away from a flaw, never comfortable with himself. Ever improving. Refining. Hiding.

Every day, the burn ward’s physical therapists had him using one exercise machine or another. A pedaling machine lowered over his bed so he could build muscle while lying on his back before he was able to walk. The next step was a tall, rolling frame that he strapped into like a fighter pilot hanging from a parachute harness, which allowed him to take a few weightless steps. His legs shook. His feet did not know how to align themselves on the ground anymore. He hissed curses when you cheered him on just for shuffling one foot forward along the smooth grey linoleum.

One damned foot.

As if he couldn’t walk before. As if one shaking, machine-assisted step was an accomplishment. He was an overgrown baby in a Jumperoo.

While he could not walk on his own yet, he could get into and out of a wheelchair without screaming bloody murder. This allowed him a new level of freedom, if not autonomy. He still required two nurses to lower him into the chair. Still needed help getting to the bathroom. But he could at least use the bathroom instead of a bedpan and catheter.

Healing came at a cost.

Until now, he had caught flashes of his reflection in polished surfaces. Warped teeth in a metal IV pole. The fuzzy silhouette of a mask in the black of his computer screen.

He stood with his hands on the bathroom sink, staring. The nurse at his left elbow tugged him, told him it was time to sit back down in the chair. He needed support to stand, a babysitter to ensure he didn’t fall, and she was tired of waiting.

The thing staring back at him did not move.

When he took the compression mask off for the one hour per day he was allowed to remove it for cleaning, he somehow expected to find his own face beneath it. Skin. What he saw was a stranger. Gnarled scars made an uneven backdrop for one dead blue eye and a skeletal grimace. His own bones were buried somewhere underneath like bedrock, but the flesh was rearranged and distorted.

If he had met this man a year ago, Dr. Chilton would have felt inward pride at his ability not to sicken at the sight. He would have shaken his hand with a smug, professional detachment that said, “I am accustomed to horrific things in my line of work—abnormal psychiatry. This does not shock me as it would a layperson.”

He was a creature to be pitied.

Then a familiar reflection appeared out of the blind spot of his left side. Your image wrapped its hand behind the broken stranger, and he felt it land on his lower back. Warm. Comforting as your face, which was knit with worry. You told the nurse you could handle it from here, and she retreated out to his room.

When she was gone, Frederick began to laugh, dark and cruel, eyes never leaving the matching set staring cruelly back.

“What is it?” you asked, tightening your grip on his arm as he began to tremble.

“Do you think I look younger without a beard?”

The laugh cracked in his throat. His shoulders heaved as he finally looked away. It was too embarrassing to watch a grown man cry.

***

The heat of July was not easy on a body that could no longer sweat and was covered head to toe in a compression suit, but Frederick Chilton was thrilled to be outside. As the automatic sliding doors opened, he breathed in deeply through the nose and exhaled the spinning summer fragrances with a blissful sigh.

You resisted the urge to tease him. Of the pair, you were the more outdoorsy by far, and the last time you dragged him camping, he’d managed to complain the entire two days. He was not, generally, one to appreciate sunshine and birdsong. But this was different.

It was his first time away from the lifeless hospital air—the same smells day after day—in four months.

Now a breeze hit his face—a breeze! He had forgotten what that felt like—and brought with it the smell of cut grass and flowers, and exhaust fumes from the nearby roadways. The scent of gasoline urged his stomach to wring itself empty, but it was faint and easy enough to shake off as sparrows chirped and flitted about the hospital’s “meditation garden.”

Gently curving paths snaked through the landscaping of lush greenery and small trees. Few flowers were planted, out of respect for patients with allergies, but a fountain at the center babbled soothingly. The walkways were wide and smoothly paved, so the grey wheels of the hospital-issue wheelchair rolled over them easily, performing their function despite being over-worked and worn down, not unlike the staff. The black rubber handle grips had a dull patina from hundreds of hands, yours being the latest to circle around them as you pushed.

It was nice to have a private courtyard to enjoy the fresh air without the eyes of the general public watching.

Frederick was able to wear clothes from home now, but they had to be loose-fitting and short-sleeved to not interfere with his treatment. In a navy polo shirt and athletic shorts, he felt horrifically under-dressed, and did not want to be seen that way. The fashion crime was almost as bad as the face he could not bear looking at.

An elderly patient and what appeared to be her adult daughter sat on one of the benches between two daylily patches, blooming garishly cheerful red and gold. The daughter looked up, and Chilton looked away.

“You are certain you checked the bedroom closet? Left-hand side, second drawer to the bottom?” he asked again, agitation rising.

He was looking for the more fashionable Chino shorts he rarely wore, preferring to overheat in long pants than expose his pale, door-knob knees to imagined ridicule. You told him the housekeeper must have misplaced them.

He clenched his fist as tightly as the pink, shiny-scarred claw could manage and went on a gruff, impotent rant about the help growing careless without him to keep them in check. (If anything, the “help” were desperate to keep you in check without him there to manage your habit of leaving everything out—your clothes on a chair, the cereal box on the counter.)

“I know, I know. Awful,” you nodded along to the music of his words, if not the lyrics. You wished he would change the subject, but he pressed on with his investigation of the Case of the Missing Shorts.

“Mrs. Pérez brought a load of laundry down from the bedroom last Wednesday,” he noted. Frederick had taken to watching the security feeds remotely from his laptop. “Has she been using the cheap dry cleaner on Cherry Street instead of the good one so she can skim the difference? I have explicitly instructed the staff not to use them—they have lost or ruined several articles over the years. Inform Mrs. Pérez that I will not stand for lazy—what?”

Your tense smile began emanating a tenser whine.

It was rather suspicious.

Frederick watched you for a moment, puzzled, and then resumed, “The new security guard shares my pant size. Perhaps—”

“I DID IT. I brought them to Good Will.”

“You what?!”

Clicking the wheelchair brake, you doubled over the back of it, laughing at your childish ruse and how seriously Frederick had taken it. God, the man could never let anything go! “Over a year ago! You never wore them!”

“Come here.” His clipped tone did not invite argument.

You walked around to the front of his chair, the repentant pout on your face strongly undermined by rounded cheeks that were barely holding back a chuckle.

He growled with affectionate anger—the kind where he wanted to grab behind your knees and pull you into his lap, telling you with a low purr exactly how much trouble you were in. Except at the moment, your weight crashing onto his skinny, bony lap would have bruised a femur and torn five stitches. And if he was not confident enough for a kiss, he was in no condition to promise punishments of that nature.

So he gave your rump a sharp smack and tried to make his mouth smirk in that playfully disdainful way that said, “I love you, but I am going to kill you. You know that, right?” Sometimes wanting to kill someone can be such a personal, intimate love language.

“Doctor Chilton!” you gasped, feigning shock. “Such a naughty patient. I have told you time and again, this is simply unprofessional.”

The old woman and daughter had moved on, leaving you alone in the garden.

He let out a soft huff of amusement, catching on to the new game you were playing. Back when he was the administrator of the BSHCI, you would often saunter into his office playing the oversexed patient to his sleazy therapist. Now the roles were reversed.

“You protest,” he said in a low, lecherous tone, “and yet you continue to lavish extra attention on me. Do not think I have not noticed.”

“I don’t know what you could mean,” you deflected coyly. “Please keep your hands to yourself, sir.”

He grabbed your hand and spun you to face him, skeletal fingers interlocking with yours. Even through the compression glove, you could feel how skinny they had become, knobby knuckles protruding.

“Doctor,” he corrected.

You swallowed. “Doctor.”

“Why deny it? You guard all my treatments for yourself like a prize when other nurses could do it. You crawl into my bed to warm me with your body heat—hardly standard practice. I think you like the attention,” he said, giving your ass another lurid slap.

“D-Doctor! I’m not supposed to—we’re not supposed to…”

“If you worked at my hospital, I would fire you for such fraternization. Yet you call me unprofessional.” His hand still rested on your ass.

“You would fire me, doctor? Why fire me when there is so much I could offer?”

“And what is it you would offer me?” he asked, voice thick with meaning. His fingers kneaded the fat of your ass gently. It would have been harder, more possessive, if his hands were at full strength.

Not long ago, getting an erection had been painful, though he’d had several corrective surgeries since then, and the grafting had time to heal. Perhaps the sunlight was sparking him back to life. He was in a flirtatious mood—more excited than you’d seen him in a long time, and you were not about to tell him to slow down.

“Anything you want, doctor.” You lowered yourself in front of his chair, kneeling between his legs and looking up at him expectantly.

His Adam’s apple bobbed.

No one else was in the garden, and statues and shrubberies hid it from the road, but it was not entirely private. Anyone could walk in or see from a window of the tall buildings. You were just pretending. You weren’t going to slip his cock out right there and suck it for all the world to see. And yet… it had been so long. The thought of your moist lips closing over his lonely, aching hardness, your head bobbing in his lap…

“You… are fascinated with me, nurse,” he observed, licking his non-lips. His composure was holding, but barely. “You have seen many patients, but never one as badly burned, have you?”

“No.”

“Does it excite you?”

You took a moment before answering. Part of him resented you for still finding him attractive. At his lowest, he even blamed you for wanting these brutal injuries to happen. A bird sang a few metallic notes on a nearby branch before fluttering down to drink from the fountain. You stroked the top of his narrow thighs, careful not to push too far by going near his cock, but he showed no sign of hesitation today. The heat in his eyes as he watched you was not accusing, but hungry.

“Yes,” you panted. “You are striking. I’ve never met anyone so strong, so resilient.”

“Do you dream of kissing me? Your most striking patient?”

“Yes.”

The sun beat down hotter, but it was only your own internal temperature rising. The birds seemed to pause in their songs, and the leaves on the trees ceased to flutter.

You had waited so long—was he really asking?

His gloved hand reached down between his legs, and nailless pink fingertips stroked the side of your face thoughtfully a few times. Then he motioned you to get up off your knees, offering his hand as a symbolic gesture only. You put some of your weight on the padded rubber armrest as you stood.

“It will not be pleasant. For either party, I imagine,” he said, breaking character.

“It will be for me.” Your voice was soft.

“I do not know what to do like this. Mash my teeth against your face?”

You laughed a little. It was probably more nuanced than that, but that sounded basically accurate. “We’ll find out together.”

He looked off into the distance, toward the humming road weaving through the city. A warm breeze brought the smell of sea off the harbor: salty, humid, and stagnant with rotted fish and garbage. “The memory of your lips against mine is already fading,” he said. “That memory is all I have left of them. Whatever this will be, it will not feel the same.”

“I know.” You rested a hand on his shoulder. The dark blue polo was informal for his old life, but the woven cotton texture was rich compared to the thin hospital gowns you were used to him wearing. The last kiss you shared with Frederick was preserved behind a glass display case in your memory palace. A new kiss might break the hermetic seal. You could forget what it felt like to kiss him before. But it seemed worth the price to build new memories—a future just as full of love as the past.

He looked up at you like a broken ceramic being pieced back together with gold. His eyes shone with love, but his shoulders were slumped low.

“You may say I’m a slutty nurse for wanting to kiss my patient, but you’re to blame!” you said, playing the game again. “How could I resist your charm? I bet you seduce every nurse—I’m only your latest conquest!”

A smile tugged the corner of his mouth.

“No, my dear,” he purred, grabbing your arm and pulling you down to him until your face was inches from his. “Only you. I only want you.”

“Can I kiss you?”

He breathed in. He nodded.

You leaned the final inch down, and pressed your lips to his teeth.

The Red Dragon’s teeth sunk through flesh and tore deep. Coppery blood flooded his mouth, the taste so metallic and strong it drowned out almost everything else out—the pain, the unnatural tearing, little pops of veins, ligaments, and muscles stretching to their limits before giving up, his own screams. The truth of his face with all its illusions of grandeur was revealed before him: it was just meat. Nothing but raw, shredded meat.

“NO!” he screamed, and pushed you hard.

It was different than the peevish denials other times you’d tried to kiss. He pushed you away with so much force you staggered backward, and his wheelchair nearly tipped over. It reared on two wheels like a panicked horse and would have fallen except the worn brake gave way, and he shot backward several feet until the vacant bench stopped the chair’s momentum.

“No, no! Get away! No!” he begged no one, shaking and thrashing so violently he risked ripping his healing scars.

His back, legs, and arms were glued to the wheelchair, and he couldn’t escape. No—could have if he were desperate enough, strong enough. But he was terrified of ripping his skin off. The thought made him break out in a cold sweat and made it difficult to think straight. Dear god, he was afraid something happened to his back. Of being disfigured again.

He was afraid to die, but he dreaded even more the thought of surviving yet again to find another piece taken from him.

Not another. Not again.

If he cooperated, he had to be spared this time. He would cooperate. Do everything The Red Dragon said, and fate would be merciful. He had to go home. He had to go home. To see you again. It was not fair that he survived two attempts on his life only to die here. It was not fair! He was going to get married to the love of his life. Things were finally going right. The Dragon’s shadow fell over him. The acrid stench of his breath as he leaned down toward Frederick’s mouth—

“Frederick!”

You ran after him and tried to restrain him before he climbed out of the wheelchair and fell to the pavement, but it only made him struggle harder. Fuck. You weren’t sure if touching him again was a good idea, but you didn’t know what else to do. He was going to hurt himself.

“Shh, I’m here.”

Crouching next to him, you tried to keep him seated, murmuring soft, reassuring words. Eventually, he stopped thrashing to escape, his jerking limbs resigning themselves to passive trembling. His eyes were open, but they didn’t see you. They didn’t see anything but a dark room with a flickering projector.

You laid your head on his lap. “I’m right here. It’s OK. You’re safe, Frederick. You’re safe. Shh, shh...”

It took several minutes, but his breathing began to slow, and he began to calm down. His fingers found your hair and stroked it, mindlessly running over the contour of your scalp. Familiarity. Recognizing you, he grasped at your shirt to draw you closer, clutching you like a teddy bear to his chest. It was an awkward angle, but you shifted so your butt was partially supported by the bench he’d crashed into, and used the chair’s armrest to hold yourself in the bent position. Frankly, even if every muscle in your body cramped up, you weren’t going to leave him as long as he needed to hold onto you.

Finally, he whimpered your name and asked what happened.

“I… kissed you. I’m sorry.”

“Oh.”

He sniffed and wiped his face, which he discovered was soaked with tears, and looked off into the trees. You sat back onto the bench, straightening your crooked spine, but keeping a firm hold on his hand, staying close as he returned to reality. He would be embarrassed. Add this to the growing list of Ways Frederick Chilton is Broken and Useless. But for now, the humiliation was dulled by the fact that he was not in that room again, with the projector flickering. You stayed that way for a while, sitting in the dappled shade of the garden and the warm breeze, the fountain burbling a constant, relaxing, tuneless song.

“The last man to bring his lips to mine bit them off.”

“I’m so sorry, Frederick. I shouldn’t have been so stupid...”

He squeezed your hand. Straightened up in his chair. “I heard the FBI has the video. Have you watched it?”

You shook your head, then quickly added, “No,” aloud, knowing his vision was poor and still focused on the tree branches swaying and morphing in the wind. Jack Crawford had offered, but you didn’t want to see it. You couldn’t bear to.

It had been hard enough hearing him describe how Francis Dolarhyde glued him naked to his grandmother’s wheelchair and made him watch macabre home movies of the families he had slaughtered. His voice was too calm, too distant from the memory as he dictated graphic details for the Journal of Psychology, desperate to tell his story, grab his fame before he died.

You should have known how your mouth coming at his would make him feel. You were so caught up in your romantic imaginings, you forgot how kiss-like that moment of horror must have been, just before the pain.

The nightmare his life had been for months already, and would continue to be. The scar tissue that wouldn’t fully mature for two years. Two years wearing a compression suit to help them heal. Years of follow-up procedures so that he can continue to move. To breathe. To hear. Longer until he could get a new face. His entire life altered forever.

It started with a kiss.

“We don’t have to kiss. I should never have pushed you to,” you apologized, wincing preemptively.

You expected him to be angry. To sarcastically tell you, “Now you decide we don’t have to? Now that it is too late? What fine timing.”

“I am not weak,” he bristled instead, but his agitation only spanned the length of a breath. He squeezed your hand softly, and pulled you halfway into his chair to wrap his arms around your waist and back. “I did not think that would happen either,” he spoke comfortingly into your hair. “Attempting it for the first time in a wheelchair was a mistake. I should have been more aware of that, but I grow tired of not being able to show my affection. You are not the only one impatient for my recovery, darling. I want to try again.”

“Now?” You pulled back, widening your eyes at him.

“No,” he said plainly. “I think not.”

• ● • ━━━━━─ ••●•• ─━━━━━ • ● •

@beccabarba​ / @itsjustmyfantasyroom​ / @thatesqcrush​ / @dianilaws​ / @permanentlydizzy​ / @mrsrafaelbarba​ / @madamsnape921​ / @astrangegirlsmind​ / @neely1177​ / @onerestein​ / @dreamlover31​ / @isvvc-pvscvl​​  / @shroomiehomie / @storiesofsvu​ / @welcometothemxdhouse​​ / @feedthemadness-sweetie​ / @law-nerd105​ / @amelia-song-pond​ / @michael-rooker​ / @xecq / @madpanda75​ / @alwaysachorusgirl​ / @bananas-pajamas​ / @leanor-min​ / @mad-girl-without-a-box​ / @katierpblogg​ / @worldofvixen​ / @sassyada​ / @barbingchilton​ 

#Frederick Chilton x reader #my writing

[niyes-lahiffe]

i am very much in a Djwifi Mood rn and you seem like the type of person to know djwifi fics so this is random but do you have any recommendations?

ALRIGHT ANON i’m gonna go all out on this one (and sorry for taking forever to respond sdjhskjgdh)

also these are (mostly) fics that i have READ and ive still got some in my to read so i’ll update this as i go :D

DJWIFI FIC MASTERLIST

to start, most of the things IVE written are djwifi (of course lmao)! just look through the “my fics” tag; i’ve also reblogged a bunch on my main blog @ultranimallover33 through the tag “fics”

tides also made a few recommendations you can find here and here!

Knighted by Thelastpilot (without a doubt my favorite fic tbh, written SO well, hilarious, nino and djwifi centered, princess and knight au, all the good stuff)

The Weight of Jade by Thelastpilot (haven’t read yet (for SHAME) but i already know it’s like the greatest story ever. absolutely iconic. (might wanna read Won’t Tell a Soul first tho))

Empty Chairs by Thelastpilot (good hurt/comfort based on an idea i love sO MUCH)

Butterflies by Risingmoon (definitely in my top 5 fave fics of all time it’s so SO cute)

Liveblog my Heart by sapphireluna (also very high on the fave list! it’s just!! so good!!!)

Starlit Conversations by InkJackets (another fave, i absolutely adore the perspectives and the slight angst it makes me HHHHH)

Cola Date by 3laxx (one of my absolute FAVORITES. i can read it any time and never be tired of it)

The Boy in the Green Jacket by Queen_BeeChloe (SO SO GOOD made me laugh so hard omfg)

You’re Still Here by tonguetiedcat (i adore this one omfg,, hilarious and adorable)

All’s Faire In Love And War by Kermode and RadamaZard (hilarious. excellent writing. renaissance fair!! everything amazing)

But I’m Weak by RadamaZard (my FAVORITE hurt/comfort fic i’ve read it so much and will continue to do so)

Peculiar Interests by myladyladybug (mermaid!alya befriending human nino what’s more to WANT)

kiss kiss (fall in love) by HiddenEye (one of the first ones i ever read. a hilarious classic)

Burst by melanshi (GAH i love the way this one is written. also made me ship rena x bubbler?? more likely than you think)

Kissing Booth by TiredHorse (Alya-centric, excellent djwifi at the end, funny classmate stuff. one of my faves)

How It Goes by Zaphirite (just dorks being absolute dorks)

If Only You Knew by scarslikeconstxllations (GOOD ANGST)

Operation Lovebirds by miraculous_me (yall FAKE DATING. CUTE AF ENDING. NEED I SAY MORE)

Phase Eight by miraculous_me (Operation Lovebirds sequel!! and it’s AAAAA)

Feeling The Sound by celestial_author (hilarious and so good,, made me feel things)

The Way You Smile by celestial author (SO SWEET I ALMOST GOT SICK)

I’ll Never Love Again by chatalyst (ANGSTY AF, I’LL NEVER FORGIVE U FOR THIS ANITA)

Go Back to Bed. You’re Sick. by CoffeeComicsGalore (lmao nino being a good bf and alya being a sassy sick lady it’s good stuff)

Bite Me. by Scarlet_Sea (Vampire!Alya?? HECK YEAH)

Withdrawl by Scarlet_Sea (cute phone conversations that make me squeal)

You’re Ethereal, Alya by an author that can’t be found :( (KISSES!!!)

racing through the dark by GuardianKarenTerrier (cute dorkiness that makes me ;0;;)

so this is love by pastisregret (ADORABLE CINDERELLA STORY OK)

Surprise Party by tbehartoo (hilarious and so sweet)

DjWifi FLUFF by Fandom_Trash (it is as it says, bro,, pure fluff)

i’ll be with you from dusk till dawn. by another unknown author (SO SWEET MADE ME CRY HHH)

Our Get Along Shirt by miraculousstorytelling (one of the funniest things i’ve ever read tbh)

All About Us by isyotm (collage au fluff let’s gooo!)

To Kiss or Not To Kiss? by claws-n-spots (aka nino being a giant dork, extremely good fluffy stuff)

Behind You by tinymacaroni (hhHNGHghngmhnfhghn...)

Hoodie Hoarder by PlaPla (gotta love these dorks)

For Once, Alya Let Him Be Cool by ramenrulz8P (PROPOSALLLLL)

Headphone Sharing, or How to Get a Date in a Foreign City by TakingOverMidnight3482 (gotta LOVE aus like this )

Knight in Shining Apron by 3laxx (hilarious. adorable. what else to expect from Toni’s fabulous writing?)

Late Night Talks and Forgotten Laptops by miraculart (another PROPOSALLLL +nino being an anxious bby)

A Place for Spring by yestomiraculous (written SO well and by golly the banter is amazing)

Candy by LoveGeek15 (more dorks being dorksss)

Blue Turtle by sagansjagger (slightly nsfw but SDJLGHSLDGH so funny like rip nino)

Twenty-Four Things I Love About You by HaydenFullwright (literally nino being a giant sap for 2800 words)

Trying by NotQuiteNerdy (actually havent read but ive only heard good things and i shall read it SOON)

Broken connection by cactus_con and Raging Flames by 3laxx are the ANGSTIEST stories i’ve ever read and both made me bawl uncontrollably

and ofc the christmas ones (there’s surprisingly a lot but theyre all so cute):

31 days of DJWifi by 3laxx (just a whole bunch of wholesome drabbles)

The best Christmas Present by 3laxx (SO FREAKIN CUUUTE HHNG)

Christmas Run by Their_Destinys_Writer (CUTE AF AND WRITTEN SO WELL)

DjWifi December... A Year Late by Capns_scrolls (good djwifi december fluffff)

Jingle All the Way by siderealSandman (an abolute MUST READ it’s so funny and i love the way it’s written)

He Loves Me by Thecrazydragonlady15 (aaa dorks being dorks)

Alya’s insomnia by Merricup (HHHNG CUTE FLUFF)

A Night on The Town by krzed (an incredible story that i love to read)

#asks #anon #djwifi #miraculous ladybug #alya cesaire #nino lahiffe #rena rouge #carapace #ALL THE GOOD STUFF!!! #and if there's some i missed dont be afraid to add!!!

[slashingdisneypasta]

Poly!Laughing Jack x Fem!Reader x Offenderman

Title: Punish Me // The Odd Throuple

Plot: Y/N gets shot in the neck and through the chest and is rushed to get help at Slender Mansion. This is your boyfriends’ reactions to you being seriously hurt. 

Notes:

I wrote most of this on my phone on the train so I’m sorry probably lots of errors!! My autocorrect likes to correct properly spelled words to the wrongly spelled versions I’ve accidentally typed in the past. 😒

Why, oh why, are my fluffiest works always with these two bastards??? Comfort characters...

Warnings: Well, you get shot because Offender raped someone. So, decide with that how you will. Sexual references also

~~~

"This is for my daughter, you f-freaks!" The man behind you is sobbing now. When he caught you it was just an itchy fidget, now that Offender and L.J are here he's falling apart.

The gun pressed into the crook of your neck moves and shifts with his ugly, heartbroken cries and all you can think is; I'm sorry. Oh my god, I'm so sorry, even as your body goes cold and you shiver with fear at having such a lethal weapon pressed to your skin at the hand of someone so unstable at the moment. You didn't even do anything to this man, but you feel his pain and feel sick anyway.

I'm so, so sorry.

You can only imagine what he means. What happened to his daughter...

"Who's your daughter!?" Offender growls, desperately. And uselessly. There's no way he remembers, there's no way he could help now. He doesn't ask for the names, and he certainly doesn't bother to listen if they tell him. He's just pleading. He doesn't know what else he could do. Just don't shoot her lethally. Miss the heart, he chants in his head. He can get you to Slender then but if you're dead... there's just nothing he can do. Its out of his power and he feels useless.

And this is his fault.

L.J doesn't respond at all, standing beside him. His eyes are on you, watching carefully. Communicating through his eyes. He hasn't moved since he realised the situation, struck completely still. He doesn't know what to do. If he fights for you, and he loses you still? ... He doesn't know if he could do that.

And then again, if you're killed anyway and he did nothing, it'll still hurt... but then at least he would have plausible deniability. He can... he can live like that. The alternative is worse. Far, far worse, to him.

And more then that, he doesn't care about bartering with this man.

Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes- losing a few tears you didn't know, through the shock, where glazing your eyes.

"You... fucker... took her before it was time, and now... " The man takes a deep breath in, making it cold on your neck where his face is hidden. "I'm going to take something you care about."

"WAIT- "

BANG.

A searing hot pain tears through your skin, everywhere as the bullet rips your insides open and a terrible scream rips out of your throat, more from shock, as the man lets your body go and gravity drags you down, nearly knocking your head on the concrete. Before that could happen though, Offender teleports and catches you.

As your sight dapples away into blackness and L.J's cries for you to say something peter out, you feel the familiar terrible whooshing of teleportation just before the world goes

completely, 

and

   utterly,

           still.

___TIME SKIP___

"Y/N... Y/N... I see your eyelids flickering, are you awake? Or experiencing some kind of terrible neural damage I need to get Slender for?" Claws slide under your neck, against the pillow and sit there cool against your skin as L.J shifts his body, and his chair, more impossibly close to your bed. "Lollipop~ You have to give me a sign, I'm not a real doctor."

"You... play one... pretty well. D-don't you?" You whisper, voice croaky and hard to utilise. Your eyelids are heavy, too, but you manage to peak at him for a moment. He opens his mouth in a sharp grin, relieved.

"So no amnesia then??" He exclaims, excitedly.

"Was that," Coughing into the air, because your body is still too weak to really move, you taste metal on your tongue. "A possibility???"

"Well, Slender didn't say it in those words, but... I feel like it was unspoken."

Knitting your eyebrows together, you start to worry about your condition yourself, before a weight like a folder or a clipboard drops on the bed by your feet and Slender heaves a great sigh.

"You were worried." He says sternly, assuredly to L.J. "You were in no danger of enduring inflicted amnesia, Y/N. L.J just has a wild imagination due to a birth defect called stupidity. Unfortunately there's nothing we can do about that."

L.J says nothing in response to that for a moment, and you can imagine him just looking deadpanned at the taller creature. "You're toad, Slender."

"Whatever. However, Y/N, while you do not have amnesia you do have a number of other inflicted injuries and because of that I am suggesting you stay here where you can properly be watched until they're manageable for you to deal with on your own." He pauses, apparently tired of our presence already. "That is unless, of course, you want to rip your many stitches or contract any kind of infectious disease because you trusted the man that thought you had amnesia, and the one that fully trusts in the 'psychologically healing' properties of copious amounts of alcohol," Oh, so that's where Offender is. "to take care of you medically."

"Um," Your voice is high, unsure quite how to respond. Slender and his bluntness does this to you a lot. "No, that's okay? Thanks for offering for me to stay?"

Another cough forces itself suddenly out of your throat from the use of your voice, as your throat is so dry - How long were you asleep?? - and, this time, L.J extends his free arm to gently cover your mouth like you would with your own if you could move right now. As soon as you're done, he retracts his long, loong arm and your stomach squirms pleasantly about how cute and affectionate that was for him.

He takes a deep breath. "Very good. I'm leaving. Offender can read your chart when he gets in here." Then, like a light, the heavy atmosphere that Slender carries with him everywhere disappears from the room and you feel L.J stretch and snatch the folder object at the end of your bed.

"I can read this, thanks." With one hand to hold the thing, L.J peers at it for a moment... for so long, in fact, that you risk your energy to peak at him again just see him use his pointed nose to slide the page up to look at the next one... Before he frisbee-throwing the folder back to the end of the bed and returning his attention fully back to you, crossing one elongated, stripy leg over the other. "Never mind. What’s with this family? They make up there own language?"

Grinning at his antics like you always do, your eyelids fall shut again and you feel the relief of not using so much energy. "I think medical charts everywhere are like that."

"So the whole medical profession started there own code, then. Bastards."

A chuckle escapes you, as you're slipping closer to sleep. "L.J, I think I'm... gonna... go back to sleep... for a bit... "

"You do that. I'll make up jokes."

"Okie, yay... "

As you fall back into the welcoming arms of sleep, L.J puts his free claws to work removing the crinkles out in your bed spread and nightgown- unable to stay still. Unable to leave you alone.

He has to stay with you.

___TIME SKIP___

The next time you open your eyes, Offender has joined L.J, but instead of sitting in a chair he leans sloppily on the wall by the door, evidently still feeling the effects of his 'psychological healing' with the alcohol.

This time you're able to open your eyes a crack and keep them open like that. You’re able to to see the room now, which is basically just like any other bedroom in Slender mansion with hard wood floors and dark walls, except there’s an IV beside you and sheets on the floor.

Again, L.J's keen eye catches your consciousness first. "You're awake again!"

"Hi." You grin in greeting, noticing L.J's claws are on your tummy now, the one on his thumb rubbing up and down a small area.

Offender comes forward immediately and leans close to your face over your bed, draping an arm over the bed frame to hold himself up. "You good there, squirt?" Wincing at the nickname, because it does not come from Finding Nemo, you shift your head on the pillow in a nod. He chuckles.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Well, you're not, but that's my girl." He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead before pulling back and picking up the medical chart on hi way back to the wall. Blowing air out of his cheeks in reaction to the information, he leans back on the wall again and starts reading the 'code'. "Now, lets see what's wrong with ya... "

L.J and you sit - and lay, - at attention as he lists and explains what it says. Some of the things that come out of his mouth do scare you, but honestly most of it was just stuff you expected. You still may be in a bit of shock, to be honest, but at the moment you're just more concerned with the fact that Offender really can read it! Unless he's making it all up, in which case, boo.

When he's done, you're all quiet for a moment, taking in how long that took - and therefore how much damage was really done by that bullet, - before L.J, of course- well, doesn't lift your spirits exactly, but changes the course of the worry in the room, for sure. And that's why you and Offender love him. Well, one of the many reasons. Raising his pointer claw off your stomach, he announces, "I call conspiracy!!"

Offender puts down the chart and crosses his arms, bemused at him. "What this time?"

"These charts. You say this is English??" L.J squints, looking between your and his boyfriend.

"Yeah."

"I don’t buy it. I'm British and I tried to read that, and it was total gibberish. Tell him, Y/N."

"He is British and he did try to read it." You concur.

L.J nods at Offender. "Yep."

"And he did fail." You grin, this time.

L.J nods again, without shame. "Yep."

"Well... " Offender leans menacingly forward, towards L.J who leans back despite them being feet away from each other, then grins. "I read it just fine."

"I feel like I'm being gaslighted."

"Oh jeez." You grin, turning your head on your pillow to set L.J with a look, amused by him.

"Oh, and- Your brother called me stupid. Again. You need to fight for my honour." L.J informs Offender, swivelling in his seat to properly face him, while still holding me.

"Oh, you poor victim, you." Offender shifts, shaking his head amusedly at L.J. "Tut, tut, tut. What a cruel world."

L.J ignores that obvious sarcasm. "Yes, precisely. Oh woe is me, and all that. Hop to it." Nodding to the door promptly, L.J turns back to me. A little grin plays at his black lips.

"Oh sure thing." Offender shakes his head again, before pushing off the wall and straddling the arm of L.J's chair instead. "Anyway, the only honour I care about right now is Y/N's." L.J seems to agree with that, eyes going steely and lips curling at the memory of why you're all in this room in the first place. "So, what'll it be, beautiful? I'm the reason you got hit, so, by Vikings oath I've vowed to endure whatever punishment you decide is necessary." You open your mouth immediately to laugh him off, but he makes no movement like he usually would if he were joking. Instead, he quickly adds, "Go on."

"... hold on, you're German. Aren't Vikings Scandinavian?-"

"Shut up, clown man; I'm old. I've been places. Get with the program."

Rolling your eyes, unintentionally fondly at the two, you look around the room. "Um," Unbelievably croaky, and painfully, you ask. "Get me a cup of water?"

"Oh!-" While Offender quickly teleports off to get you that, L.J just absentmindedly brushes some hair out of your face. Offender comes back in a young moment and they both help you sit up. L.J helps guide you by your hands, while Offender stuffs pillows securely at the base of your back.

"Thanks, guys," You accept the glass of water with a gracious smile. "Thank you."

As you're taking a sip, Offender returns to his spot on the arm of L.J's chair and watches you expectantly, heavily. Swallowing the water, you raise a curious brow. "So? My punishment?"

You nearly choke on the water, but instead take a moment to compose yourself. "Wha- I thought that was the punishment!"

"Getting water??"

"I didn't say please!"

L.J clicks his finger claws, lifting them off you for a moment to point and nod in agreement at Offender. "Right, that's true. She didn't. 'S not her fault you have no sensitivity towards good manners." He turns back to you as Offender makes a perturbed shape with his mouth. "You have lovely manners."

"Thank you!"

"Of course dearest."

"Wha- I- F- hah???" As you and L.J have your 'Old British Sit Com' moment as Offender would always refer to it from then on, he stutters and looks between the two of you confusedly. "Hold on, hold on stop that this instant-" Reaching over and waiving a hand between the two of you as you were looking sweetly at each other, he successfully snaps you both out of it. "Neither of you are taking this seriously. You," He points his finger at L.J, who narrows his eyes at the offending appendage. Probably thinking 'And your manners, are terrible.'. "Shoosh. And you, “ L.J presses his lips firmly closed as Offender turns his stern finger to you, making you sit up straighter at attention. “Come on, baby.” He slips to his knees as you start to fully understand his desperation right now and grips the side of your mattress. His hat slips to cover the top of his face and your eyes flicker to L.J’s, which are also sheened in a very covered layer of worry, and back. “Punish me. It’s my fault. You got bandages and tubes and... fucking bloodstains. I did this. And in order for our relationship to continue healthily you need to get back at me somehow. So come on, one more time I’m gonna say it so L.J if you say something about masochism I will throw you out the window; Y/N, punish me. Goddamnit, please.”

“Offender,” You start in a scolding voice, pushing yourself off the pillows with difficulty, wincing at the pain shooting through your collar bones. When L.J’s eyes flicker over you and your pained features, because, while Offender is clearly perfectly fine with showing his affections, L.J certainly is not. You flash him an ‘its fine’ smile as you push your legs off the end of the bed. “I’m not that hurt! And I’m certainly not upset with you in any way, its not necessary!” 

“You were shot, Y/N!” 

“Yeah, well.” You roll your eyes, as if the infliction wasn't a big deal. Like there are more important things, which in the moment you do think there are in Offender’s outlook at the moment. It honestly scares you. It isn't him. Dropping your hands on his shoulders, you dip your head to look seriously at him. “Its not that bad! I mean, I think Slender woulda told me if I was gonna die, don’t you think? And you read the chart! You know I’ll be okay.” 

“... Yeah, he would've. And then the little punk woulda left the room chuckling."

"Oooh," L.J leans back in his chair, thumb claw between his teeth as he imagines how it would have gone, arctic blues glazed over with imagination. "He totally would... "

Nodding in agreement, you kneed your thumbs into Offender shoulders comfortingly. "Yep. Same thing for if I wasn't going to recover at all. Don't you think?"

"Y/Nnnn,” He groans, resisting. 

“I’ll, be, fine.” Leaning down, you press your forehead to his- breath hitching when you feel your stitches stretching but forcing your self to stay put for a moment. “Don’t feel so guilty. Or, at least try- its an odd colour on you.” 

“Mm.” Offender’s mouth twists like he tasted something gross. Then he sighs, the muscles in his shoulders easing. “Oh, what, you think a good old ‘belligerent’s more me?”

“Maybe a gentle ‘creepy’, at most.” L.J pats his back, breaking out of his dream world. You grin and nod. 

“That work for you?” 

“We can try it on for size.” 

L.J snorts. “Oh, I don’t think that’ll be necessary.” Offender turns and looks up at him, a bemused smile on his face. Still reluctant to let it go, but trying. “What? Does BEN need to re- try on his used condom hat now, too??” 

With that, Offender and you dissolve into barks of laughter, you hiding your pink face in your hands while L.J just shrugs, holding up his hands like ‘Aren't I right though??’. “What?? Its one of your charms!” He adds, a corner of his dark mouth fighting to point up even as he looks confusedly at your shaking bodies. 

“OKAY,” Slender pushes the door open then, interrupting and dropping his shoulders slowly. “I’ve heard enough. It time for Y/N to return to sleep- what. What is she doing out of bed? Put her back. And then, both of you, can get out of my house! ... and take your unfortunate analogies with you.” Shoulders slumping, he then mutters, “... I’ll never be able to look at that hat again without thinking about that... “  

Offender heaves his own sigh, so like his brother in the moment as he pushes himself up and guides you back into a comfortable laying position, muttering himself. “You would think, after so... so, many centuries with that man, I would be immune to his annoyingness... But no.” 

Snickering, L.J leans back in his chair, reaching down into the pockets of his pants as you start to feel exhaustion wash over you again. Slender’s right, you do need more sleep... 

Slender just opens the door more fully and gestures towards it for his brother and Laughing Jack. Slowly, he drawls the next word. “Out?” 

“G’night sweetheart.” Offender gives you another kiss on the forehead, completely ignoring his brother this time. “Just keep thinking about that punishment, okay? Just... keep it in mind.” Chewing on your bottom lip, you wish Offender would let it go... but nod anyway, for his sake. Not like you actually will think about it at all. L.J brushes your hair back after he steps back and taps your forehead gently with his thumb. 

“Sweet dreams lollipop!” 

Then L.J returns to his chair and Offender drags up a chair beside him for himself and Slender grips the door tighter. “Oh, no. No no no. Get, out, of my home.” 

Slowly L.J looks over at Slender, then squishing his butt down further into the chair pointedly, and Offender props his legs up on the end of your bed. You chuckle, and close your eyes. Embarrassed by your weirdly good boyfriends.  They aren't perfect by any, a n y means, but they are pretty cool sometimes. You like them- and that's an understatement. 

“Aghhh, don’t think I’m bringing you dinner.” Slender lets up quickly, disinterested in putting up any fight and rolls his shoulders of you all, closing the door as he walks off. “Hooligans.” 

As you close your eyes, and pull the blankets up further over your body to your chin, relaxing into a resting, sleep exposed state Offender crosses his arms, setting in probably for a nap himself, with no other idea how to pass the silent time and L.J turns promptly to him, with a colourful but mostly black box in his hand. 

“Silent Uno??” 

#Poly! Laughing Jack x Reader x Offenderman #Laughing Jack x Reader #Offenderman x Reader #Laughing Jack x Offenderman #Oneshot #Creepypasta Oneshot #Slenderman

[buoyantsaturn]

Riding Bikes Across the Street Without Looking Either Way (2/2)

summary: “Well, you can stay with me and Annabeth as long as you need to, okay? We’ve got a shitty couch with your name on it, and we’ll make sure your dad never finds you.”

word count: 3,955

read on ao3 | read chapter one

Nico hadn’t slept in three days by the time he arrived at Percy’s apartment late at night, around two days after he’d left home. He’d barely stopped along the way, so when Annabeth opened the door for him, she looked like she’d seen a ghost. (At this point, Nico felt like he might as well be one.) 

“Oh my god,” Annabeth said as she grabbed Nico’s shoulder to pull him inside, drawing him straight into a hug. “Neeks, you look like shit. Are you-- Are you bleeding?”

Nico refrained from reaching up to check his head, and looked to the side in an attempt to stop Annabeth from looking too closely, though she took his face in her hands and turned his head back the other way. “I’m fine,” Nico muttered when Annabeth gasped. 

“You are not,” she argued. “You’re going to the hospital.”

“I just drove for two days, I don’t wanna drive anymore,” Nico told her. “Can’t I sleep first?” 

“Oh, you are not driving like this,” Annabeth said as she started further into the apartment. “You probably shouldn’t have driven in the first place! Wait here. Percy just put Luke down for the night, but he’ll take you.” 

Then Annabeth disappeared around the corner, so Nico stood in the doorway with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his coat. He let his eyes fall shut and his head tip forward, and just about fell asleep standing up until his body started to lean, and he startled awake to catch himself. When he opened his eyes, Percy was there with his coat in hand and concern written across his face. 

Nico blinked up at him, and Percy seemed to take that as his invitation to draw Nico in for a hug. Nico flinched back when Percy got too close to the wound on the side of his head, so Percy jumped back like he’d been shocked. “Dude,” Percy whispered, his eyes full of something like pity that made Nico’s stomach turn. Percy pulled on his coat and held out a hand. “Alright, give me your keys.” 

For a second, Nico didn’t move. He wanted to argue, to say he was too tired and that they could just go in the morning, but he didn’t want to get hit again. (Percy wouldn’t hit him, would he?) Nico took the keys out of his pocket and dropped them into Percy’s hand. 

They walked down to the road and got into Nico’s car. It wasn’t until they were a few minutes down the road that Percy tried asking what happened, though Nico wasn’t very willing to share. He hadn’t told Percy much more than things have gotten worse and I’m coming to New York, so he was sure that Percy was more worried for him than he was letting on. Percy’s mind was probably reeling over all the different things that might have happened to leave Nico in such a state, but Nico couldn’t bring himself to say it. 

He let Percy guess, though he never got very specific. Percy had narrowed it down to Hades and drinking, though Nico knew those weren’t hard to figure out. 

When they sat down in the hospital’s waiting room, Percy finally said, “You know you’ll have to tell the doctor what happened, right? I mean, maybe they can help you, like, file a police report or something.” 

Nico was shaking his head before Percy had even finished talking. “I don’t want to file a report,” he insisted. “I don’t… I don’t wanna think about it anymore, and I don’t want him to know where I am.”

“Oh. Right, of course,” Percy said quietly, then wrapped an arm around Nico’s shoulders to bring him into a side-hug. “Well, you can stay with me and Annabeth as long as you need to, okay? We’ve got a shitty couch with your name on it, and we’ll make sure your dad never finds you.”

“Thanks,” Nico whispered, and his head fell onto Percy’s shoulder. “Um, and can you do me a favor?”

“Yeah, of course.” 

“When we get back to your place, can you call Seph? Just to let her know I got here safely, but...don’t say where I am. And then delete her number. Maybe block it, too.” 

Percy rubbed his arm. “Yeah, man, I can do that.” 

A moment later, Nico’s name was called, and he tensed. “Will you come back with me?” he asked Percy as he got to his feet, and Percy nodded. A nurse took them into the emergency room and had Nico sit on one of the beds to wait for the doctor.

Another minute or two passed before a man with curly brown hair and a lab coat approached and said, “Hi there, Mr. di Angelo. I’m Doctor Markowitz, and I’ll be taking care of your examination before my supervisor comes over. It says on your form here that you have a head injury, do you want to tell me a little more about that while I take a look?” 

Nico ducked his head and shrugged. Markowitz glanced toward Percy, who said, “He doesn’t want to talk about it.” 

“Okay, noted,” Markowitz said as he pulled on a pair of gloves. He stepped up to Nico’s side and located the wound quickly, carefully brushing away Nico’s hair to get a better look at it. “Can you at least tell me what made the wound?” 

“A glass bottle,” Nico muttered, and averted his gaze when Percy’s eyes widened. 

“Glass?” Markowitz repeated, then took a closer look. “Well, it doesn’t look like there’s any broken pieces in here, so that’s good.” 

“The bottle didn’t break,” Nico replied. “I don’t think.” 

“Must’ve been one heavy-duty bottle to hit you this hard and not break,” Markowitz commented, and Nico suppressed a flinch. “Alright, hang tight for just a minute while I call my supervisor over. I’m thinking you’re going to need a CT scan to rule out a concussion, and possibly an X-ray to make sure your skull is all in one piece. I’ll be right back.” 

As soon as the doctor was out of sight, Percy turned to Nico and asked, “He hit you with a glass bottle?”

Nico folded his arms over his stomach, one hand wrapping around his other arm. He didn’t respond. He didn’t have time to, either, before Percy’s phone started to ring. 

“It’s Annabeth,” he said, “probably just checking in. I’ll be right back, okay?” 

And then Percy was gone, too, and Nico’s hand gripped tighter. He could hear Percy at first, answering the call and saying that they’d already talked to a doctor, but then his voice dropped lower and Nico had to strain to hear it. 

“He’s not acting like himself,” Percy whispered. “It’s like he’s fifteen again, he’s barely even talking to me.” A pause, and then, “Can that happen? Can something like this make him, like, regress, or whatever?” Nico’s fingernails began clawing at his skin. “Oh, the doctor’s coming back. I’ll let you know what’s up as soon as I can.” 

On top of a moderate concussion, Nico had a skull fracture, was severely dehydrated, and had reached the point of exhaustion that the doctors were surprised to still see him upright. Nico declined an IV drip of fluids and something that would help him sleep, insisting that he just wanted to leave, so Percy drove him home with a prescription that basically boiled down to rest. 

Nico passed out on the couch as soon as they were inside, and didn’t wake for almost twenty hours. When he did finally awaken, he got up to find Annabeth in the kitchen making dinner. 

“Hey, Neeks,” she said as she stirred a pot of pasta. “How are you feeling?” 

“Fine,” he replied, folding his arms across his stomach and eying the stove. “Can I help?” 

Annabeth raised an eyebrow at him. “Shouldn’t you be resting?” 

“I just did.” Nico’s nose scrunched up at the idea of sitting on that couch any longer. “I’m rested. So, can I help?” 

“Why don’t you see if you can help Percy with Luke, instead?” 

Nico hesitated. “But I like cooking.” 

“Do you like babies?” 

“I...don’t know.” 

“Well, if you’re going to be staying with us for a little while, then I’d like to know that you’re comfortable around my son,” Annabeth told him. “You never know, I might ask you to babysit. So, go hang out with Luke, and I’ll shout for everyone when this is ready.” 

Nico huffed and said, “Fine,” then turned out of the kitchen. Before he could fully leave, though, he stopped himself and said, “Actually, um. After dinner, do you think you could help me with something?” 

“Maybe,” she replied, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. “What is it?” 

“I need to change my phone number.” 

Annabeth nodded. “Yeah, we’ll figure that out.” 

As it turned out, Nico got along with Luke just fine. It was almost easier than hanging out with adults, he realized, because he didn’t feel the need to try to hold a conversation. Luke could only say a handful of words, anyway. Nico spent a good half hour just holding blocks whenever Luke gave them to him. 

As dinner came and went, Nico learned what sorts of things Luke could and couldn’t eat, and then later on watched how to go about putting Luke to sleep at night. Apparently parenting was easier than people made it seem. How had Hades messed up so bad?

When the living room was once again baby-free, Annabeth sat down with Nico to help him figure out how to change his phone number. Percy was laying across the floor for some reason, and had been asking Nico about college in an attempt to get his mind off of running away from home. Unfortunately, that wasn’t really something Nico wanted to talk about, either. 

“So, do you need to, like, transfer to a new school or something?” Percy asked as he tossed one of Luke’s toys into the air above him. “You know, since you can’t go to class.” 

“It’s all online,” Nico replied. He was watching Annabeth work from the opposite end of the couch because the brightness of his phone screen hurt his head. “I talked to somebody at NYU last summer about doing all online classes.”

“Are you sure you’ll be able to do that?” Annabeth asked. “You can’t even look at your phone long enough to see who’s texting you.”

“And that doctor said you need to avoid screens for at least a week, didn’t he?” Percy added. 

Nico felt his heart rate rise as his anxiety spiked again. “Well, what day is it?” he asked, hoping his voice wasn’t shaking as much as his hands were. “Maybe I’ll have time to rest before my classes start.” 

“It’s Wednesday, the…” Percy drew out the last word as he pulled out his phone, “...sixth. When do your classes start?” 

Nico dropped his head into his hands. “Two days ago.” 

“Okay, no big deal,” Annabeth said without raising her eyes from her laptop screen. “Just email your professors to explain the problem, and ask for an extension on anything you missed.” 

“But I won’t be able to do anything for another week, and at that point, I’ll be two weeks behind in, like, half of my classes,” Nico complained, scrubbing his hands over his face and then scraping his hair back from his face. “And then what if I can’t catch up? Maybe I should just take the semester off.”

“Alright, take a breath.” Annabeth reached over and set a hand on Nico’s arm, but he flinched out from under the touch. “I think you should sleep on it. There’s no need to make such an impulsive decision.” 

Nico pulled his knees up to his chest and dropped his gaze to the floor. “No. It’s better if I drop the classes now instead of having to withdraw later. I’ll just start up again in the fall.” 

He glanced up again just in time to see Annabeth and Percy sharing a worried look. He grabbed onto his arm and squeezed. 

The apartment was too small for three adults. Maybe if Nico hadn’t had to sleep on the couch, then he would’ve been less of an inconvenience to Percy and Annabeth. He tried to make up for it in other ways. He cooked whenever he could, and he washed the dishes every night. Nico was trusted enough to look after Luke on his own for short periods of time - if Percy needed to run out to the store while Annabeth was in class or at work, usually. 

Still, Nico was in the way. He hadn’t quite assimilated into their home, and he’d heard them whispering late at night when they all should have been asleep that money was tight. 

Things came to a head when Nico finished off a pot of coffee one morning, assuming that the others had gotten their share. He was feeding Luke so that Annabeth could get out the door in time for class when Percy stumbled into the kitchen, half-awake and already grumpy. He grabbed a mug out of the cabinet before reaching for the empty pot and freezing at the sight.

He slammed the pot back into place, and Nico flinched.

“Damn it, Nico, did you drink all the coffee?” Percy snapped.

Nico sunk in his seat, hoping to appear as small as possible. He watched Percy pick up his mug again, and imagined it shattering against his skull. He wound his arms around his stomach and ducked his head. 

“The least you could do is make another pot,” Percy continued. “God.”

“Sorry.” Nico pushed his chair back, the legs screeching against the floor and making him flinch again. “Sorry.” He was up on his feet one second, and then he blinked, and he was in the living room. He could hear his pulse in his ears. His head darted back and forth, but there was nowhere to hide. 

Oh god, why wasn’t there anywhere to hide? 

He couldn’t hide in the bathroom, because Annabeth was in there. He couldn’t hide in either bedroom, because the doors didn’t have locks. 

He went into Luke’s room anyway. Nico figured he would have a better chance at hiding underneath the crib then he would Percy’s bed. And then, when he shut the door behind himself, he saw the window. 

The fire escape.

Nico pulled the curtains loose and climbed out the window before sliding it shut. He heard Percy shouting for him as he sat down on the nearest step. He almost got up and ran down the fire escape just to make sure he wouldn’t get hit. Instead, he stayed perfectly still to ensure that the creaking of the fire escape wouldn’t give him away. 

He only wished he’d brought a jacket.

Nico was blowing on his fingers to keep them warm when the window slid open. He must have already been frozen to the step, or maybe it was the panic that kept him from jumping up and running away. 

“Nico,” Annabeth breathed with a sigh of relief. She held a hand out to him. “What the hell are you doing out here? Get inside, it’s freezing!” 

Nico hesitated. “Is...Percy gone?” 

Annabeth frowned, waving her hand impatiently. “What are you talking about? Why would he be gone?”

Nico stuffed his hands under his arms and ducked his head. Of course Percy wouldn’t be gone. He lived there. It was Nico that was always going to have to run away.

“Do you need him to be gone?” Annabeth asked gently. 

Nico shrugged. 

Annabeth sighed, and Nico tensed. She sounded annoyed. “Alright, don’t move.” 

Then she shut the window. Maybe she locked it, too, so that Nico wouldn’t be able to get back inside. He would freeze to death out there, and he could finally stop being everybody’s problem. 

The window opened again, and Annabeth poked her head out. “I told him to back off. He won’t come into Luke’s room while we’re in here, so would you please come back inside?” She held her hand out to him again, and this time, Nico took it. Her hand was unnaturally warm, or maybe he had let himself get colder than he thought. 

Nico’s bare feet touched the carpet and he immediately dropped to the floor while Annabeth shut the window behind him. She wrapped him up in a blanket and wound her arms around his shoulders. “Tell me what happened, Nico.” 

“I…” His teeth started chattering. Why was he shivering now that he was back in the warmth? “I drank the last of the coffee. I thought Percy already had some.”

“So your solution was the freeze to death in repentance?” 

“He was mad,” Nico whispered, his arms tightening around his knees. “I thought he was gonna hit me.” 

“Nico,” Annabeth said, her voice stern but not harsh, “you know Percy would never hit you. He loves you.” 

“I thought my dad loved me.” 

Annabeth pressed her forehead to the top of Nico’s head. “Neeks, this isn’t working out.” 

Nico’s next breath caught in his throat, and he felt his eyes sting with the beginnings of tears. 

Annabeth started rubbing his back. “I know we said that you could stay here as long as you need, but… Nico, this place isn’t big enough for all of us, and Percy and I… Our money is spread so thin already that we’re constantly stressed about paying the bills on time, and having you here too… We can’t walk on eggshells in our own home. I’m sorry, Nico. We love you, and we’re not kicking you out, but we need to start looking for another option for you. And maybe a therapist, too.” 

Nico dropped his head onto his knees as his tears started to fall. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m messing everything up. I never should’ve come here, I’m sorry.” 

“No, Nico, you have nothing to be sorry for,” Annabeth assured him. “And I’m glad you came here and got away from your dad. I’m glad you’re safe. And I’m sorry that Percy’s such an ass when he doesn’t get his coffee right away. I should’ve warned you about that.” 

“Not your fault,” Nico muttered.

Annabeth patted his shoulder. “Not yours, either. Are you gonna be okay?” 

Nico hesitated, then nodded. 

“Do you think you’re ready to talk to Percy?” she asked. “I think he’d like to apologize.” 

“Yeah,” Nico said, still nodding. “I’m ready.” 

Annabeth stood, then offered a hand to help Nico to his feet. She led the way out of the room and toward the living room where Percy was sitting on the floor with Luke, and as soon as Percy saw them, he jumped to his feet. 

“Nico!” Percy exclaimed, rushing forward with his arms held out, though he froze when he saw Nico flinch. Percy glanced at Annabeth, his expression wavering and his arms drooping slightly before he asked, “Um, can I hug you?” 

Nico took a step closer and nodded. Percy’s arms closed around him. 

“Dude, you had me so freaked out,” Percy said into Nico’s hair. “I’m so sorry for yelling at you. I’ll try not to do it again, I promise.” 

“Thanks,” Nico replied, shifting subtly until Percy released him. He took a few steps back and held his arms over his stomach again, as if defending a weak point. 

Annabeth set a hand on his shoulder. “I have to leave for class, but are you going to be okay?” 

Nico took a deep breath and met her gaze. “I’ll be okay.” 

“Good. When I get home, we can start looking for a therapist,” she said in a way that let Nico know she also meant if that’s okay with you. “And Percy, when you put Luke down for his nap, you two should start looking for apartments.” 

Annabeth pulled Nico forward and kissed his forehead. She kissed Percy on the lips, then Luke on the top of his head as she grabbed her bag, and then she was gone. 

Nico didn’t move for a few minutes. Percy settled back onto the floor with Luke and eventually turned the TV on for some background noise. Nico edged his way toward the couch and sat down in the corner, curled up with his knees to his chest. 

Percy reached back and tapped on Nico’s shin with his fingers. “Hey, no hard feelings, right?” he asked, his head tipping back to rest on the cushion next to Nico. “I love having you here, dude, and I’ve missed you a lot, but I’m sorry that it’s not working out. Besides, don’t you think it’ll be better to have your own place, anyway?” 

Nico’s arms tightened around his legs. “I don’t...want to live alone. I don’t think I can.” 

“Oh.” Percy’s gaze turned back to Luke. “I guess I always assumed that you were the type to like having your own space. Uh, okay, well, we can…” Percy hummed in thought. “We can look on...Craigslist? To find you a roommate?” He glanced back at Nico, and there must have been something about the look on Nico’s face that made Percy burst into laughter. “Okay, you’re right. Stupid idea.” 

Percy scooped the TV remote up off the floor and tossed it back to Nico. “Go ahead and put on whatever.”

Nico flipped through the channel guide for a few minutes, but ended up sticking with whatever kid’s show was already playing. 

“Maybe you could crash with somebody we already know,” Percy said. “We could talk to Jason or Leo, or-- No, wait, now that I think of it, I think Leo might be crashing on Jason’s couch… Hm. You can’t get a dorm at NYU if you’re not taking classes this semester… Man, the only person I can think of that has a spare room is my mom.” 

Nico felt himself perk up for the first time in days. “Do you think you could ask her?” 

Percy shot him a teasing grin. “You wanna live with my mom?” He looked away before Nico’s expression could fall, and shrugged. “Alright, I’ll call her after lunch. I’m sure she’d love to have you.”

Nico had his first meeting with a therapist the day before moving out of Percy and Annabeth’s apartment. It didn’t take long to pack up his belongings, mainly because he’d hardly taken anything out of his car to begin with. But when he got to Sally’s with the Jackson-Chases not far behind, they unloaded everything from his car to take inside. The guest room was a bit of a tight squeeze with all of Nico’s boxes and suitcases inside, but he had plenty of time to unpack and organize later. 

He came out of the room - his room - to thank Sally and Paul a few more times, but when he stepped into the kitchen, Sally beat him to it. She pulled Nico into a hug, practically squeezing the life out of him as she did so, and kissed the side of his head. “We’re so happy to have you here, Nico,” she whispered to him. “You stay here as long as you need.” 

“It won’t be forever,” Nico promised her after weaseling out of the hug. “I just need to figure some stuff out, and maybe I can try to get a dorm when the fall semester starts, and--” 

Sally took Nico’s face in her hands and pressed her lips to his forehead. “Take all the time you need, honey.” 

Nico felt like he might cry. He forgot what it was like to have a mom.

thanks for reading!

buy me a coffee | more nico birthday event stuff

#nico di angelo #percy jackson #annabeth chase #i'm in hell #mine #my writing #nico birthday event

[beann-e]

um wow , idk what to say i’m a bit flustered but i hope i say it right. I was only gone for a couple of days and this is what I come back to. 😮 Tysm guys I love you all thank you for taking the time out of your scrolls to even follow me >:’) So, I decided to follow through on my haikyu x police force idea and here it is a sneak peek! I hope you enjoy !

May 1 , 2021

-recording take one

" I am under oath to tell you that everything being said here today will be used to further the investigation against yourself. That being said If you choose to answer a question or provide a statement I will have no choice but to write it down to be processed and turned into someone of higher authority than me is that clear "

" i'd say that's a bit — well stupid to me saying yes when your the highest fish on the food chain no? "

" what else can I say except lucky you that everything you say won't be passed around and relayed much less having your words twisted by those listening "

" cute "

" i'd say same goes to you if you weren't chained up in front of me right now — I might've just asked you out on a date "

" i'm free friday at 10 — though it's in the morning so I pose the question— Would you like to sneak me from my court case baby I promise i’ll make it up to you "

" mm i'll think about it seeing as though i'm the one escorting you to your new cell anyways we might just have to have a uh a talk inside hmm"

" what no balls ? "

" sadly none —or at least physically seeing as though i'm a woman "

" I never would've guessed if it wasn't for the way that suit hugs your curves — your pretty full out huh you must be fun "

" i've gotten that before though people tend to say i’m a bit more fun elsewhere "

" aw you wound me you didn’t tell me I had competition babe “

" of course not your first in line in my eyes, it sucks that the ring on my finger says differently though "

" isn't that sweet I might just have to take you up on your offer "

" oh? didn't think you'd be so excited ,much less interested on being the first one on my list to be put in jail but, I guess i'll try my best to speed your trial up for you if that's what you want "

The rooms silence was heavy as the camera panned the room. Your fingers silently being clawed into the table as it drained all your anger from you.

Your shoe tapping against the floor with a slight grimace appearing on your face when you heard the buttons on the camera in front of you being pressed.

" what no slick comment ? " A heartfelt laugh moved to fill the once silent room as you watched small hands wrap around the camera and fix it to where it showed nothing but your upset face—fingertips slamming down one by one on the table

" don't you have a fucking job to do glasses "

" aw what happened no more flirty y/n ? "

"your an asshole— I don’t know why I expected much in the first place seeing as though you were trained under him "

" such a foul mouth — you do know this is going on your transcripts right ? " the eyes in front of you narrowing on you the voice only coming out in mock care for your situation " you wouldn't want the jury — much less the judge reading this when their deciding your sentence right ? "

Your fingers glided over the table and into a fist in front of you as your head went to look down at the table

" you've grown submissive so fast "

" I find it hard to believe you don't like that kind of thing fucking pervert "

" aw you wound me — but if I had to supply you with an answer to your question— I can imagine your dying to know since you've been flirting with a married woman this whole time "

" married? "

" I know your observant y/n you have to be " the next words making you breathe heavily " I mean the way you noticed your s/o was cheating before they could even notice themselves is just wow"

The click of the door being heard as a deep voice made its way in the room " Kiyoko your not allowed in here "

" I have just as much right to be in here as anyone else — "

" but I could’ve sworn I just said you don't — so again why the hell are you in here ? "

The room turning cold with the woman in front of you straightening herself up not wanting to go back and forth with the male in front of her but, at the same time not wanting to come across as small, being seen as a woman down here was hard much less having your own husband be relatively close to the one in charge " I came down here to test out inmate 4890 psyche"

" did anyone give you that kind of permission? that kind of clearance ? to even get down here in the first place ? "

" I mean their hidden underground so i'd say their the main event down here "

" you can't just come down here to see it whenever you see fit "

" but I was interested in the way it's mind works "

" what the hell am I an attraction at sea world? "

" your whatever the fuck I want you to be " your once strong eyes were met with brown ones that held your gaze almost testing you— daring you.

You seeing the hate swirl with annoyance meeting to radiate off of him. His face made up in a snarl as he finally turned his whole body to you.

Arms crossed across his chest eyes now lazily focused on you causing a chill to move through your spine. Youd never wanted to grow submissive to anyone and you never had not in all your years of living so why were you now?

Kiyokos eyes moving from between you to the male in front of her and back. Her body already telling you she knew something was off by the way you'd just been playful with her until you felt the energy shift by someone elses approach showing how easily your personality could changed.

Something was off and she was interested

" if necessary I can always stay and play mediato— "

" your ok " he smiled widely " we're fine together — down here "

your body shifted in the seat wrists being pulled back and down to the table by the chain in front of you when you heard his claim.

" y/n ' s good with that — their fine ive known them a long time I can speak for them — we’ve done this before countless times this isn't their first crime maybe one of this stature yes but "

" mhmm " the woman in front of you shook her head lightly before leaving the room your heart clenching tightly when you heard the door click closed

" I just wanna do my job and then i'll get out ok y/n " the fake sympathy in his voice shining through as he put down his clipboard on the table before standing behind the chair at the table across from you

" god " his voice was heavy as he spoke " it's like you get hotter and hotter everytime we see each other " his body moving around the small rectangular table " it's such a shame "

Your body tensing when you felt him nearing you only to keep going past you.

Body letting out a breath you didn't even know you were holding only to restore another one when you heard the click of the camera turning off and powering down.

Your eyes darting around the room to watch him out of the corner of them reaching up to turn off the corner camera that showed the police force what was happening in the room

Not that they would care seeing as though he was chief he could do anything he wanted to you and not have to tell anyone in his unit. It didn't help that you were a world renowned criminal now you'd fully fucked this up for yourself

" crazy how your fucked yourself over " his words only confirming the thought in your head " you were only into petty crimes before so I could barely get my hands on you i'd always have to pass you over to everyone else because no one of my status ever needed to intervene — though I would've loved to— just to feel the way your face would drop anytime I entered the room or to even feel the shift in your attitude like I felt earlier— holy fuck is that powerful and now look at you "

He laughed at your body that sat slumped in your chair trying to cover your face with the cuffs on the table " pathetically sitting in a room bawling your eyes out in front of me "

His words only feeling closer now as his breath hit your ear.

Heat from his mouth moving to your neck instantly causing you to scoot away only for him to grab the back of your neck " have you no respect for yourself "

You gritted your teeth together at his hold on you " I said have you no respect for yourself "

You bit at your lip trying to decide what to say you always wanted to spit a comeback at the male but right now was definitely not the time with his heavy hand on your neck moving slowly into your hair to grip tighter

"ah every single time we do this — it's almost even more pathetic than the droplets I keep seeing falling and landing on my perfect fucking table that I bought with company’s money— fuck their gonna cut my paycheck "

His hand tightening as he spoke again " one more time asshole " his voice held all the rudeness to it " have you no respect for yourself "

" y-"

The action was quick as he slammed your head hard into the table in front of you. your vision blurring before he sighed blood dripping from your forehead and leaking out of your nose onto your lips as it trembled slightly

" ugh I hate when this happens with you —- you always bleed so fucking easily " he huffed " I ask you something you answer learn something about respect for once in your life and maybe you'll take better care of yourself "

He scoffed " your so fucking pretty and yet you do things like this — you slut yourself out in my business and then turn around and get arrested god your such a fucking ditz "

your head being brought to meet the table once again as you whimpered tears mixing with your blood brain muddied and shut down by his actions

" i'm so tired — so so tired of sweeping everything you do under the rug— I mean you act like I can’t fucking see you y/n i run the whole fucking thing I don’t— I don’t understand you your just fucking stupid so so so stupid it just blinds me and throws me for a loop sometimes "

His voice was low almost as if he only wanted you to feel the weight of his words " and then you never even say fucking sorry " he pushed your head down again " i'm the fucking cleanup crew ,, the shitty bodyguard when you drag yourself in some mess ,, the contact list when you need a plug ,, the boss when you need a job i'm fucking tired y/n "

" I know I know and i'm— im so sorry really please i'm sorry "

you braced yourself for another push as he backed away the heavy hand leaving your neck as he peered down at your head that was still hovering over the table

" what the fuck do you want another bash ?What are you doing "

" no — no please no”

" then bring your head up — god you seriously take your role on as the youngest dont you " he sighed as he moved his hands to pinch at the bridge of his nose. Your eyes darting to the camera kiyoko left and feeling hope enter your body thinking of how she would see the whole scene that’s played out with the male in front of you

" your not staying here "

" what—what "

" you can't — I dont want you here— i’m outta this your not my responsibility anymore your 19 now so I don’t know what to say except get it to fucking gether — you stay here your never gonna go to jail you'd just stay in a confined room for moths — fuck i’m always getting dragged in this shit "

" how — what do I do — what am I gonna do "

" the hell do you mean ? what am I gonna do ? as if the shits not obvious your gonna do fucking nothing while everyone else does all the work for you again "

your voice grew quiet as he scoffed " that's what I thought god — one day i'm gonna get fired "

your eyes darted to the camera and back down " for what exactly "

his eyebrows creased as he stared at you eyes moving all around your face before he spoke ignoring your question " you got yourself in some real bad shit this time y/n "

" but it wasn't even my fau— "

" you don't say shit — you know it wasn't suppose to go down like that and when one goes down we go down together you swore it— that’s how you got our trust don’t fuck yourself over again or you’ll be down in hell by yourself "

" like what ? "

" don't fuck with me y/n "

he moved to grab his clipboard your body lifting when he walked off and forgot about the camera only to drop the clipboard to the floor with a loud clang and start using his shoe to tear the papers apart

" wh-what are you doing " your voice came out soft as your eyebrows creased

His body moving over to the table and throwing the camera youd just put all your hope into someone seeing what you went through being thrown to the ground and stepped on harshly with the heel of his shoes.

Though it wasn't broken broken it was unsalvageable and couldn't be fixed your eyes going wide unable to process anything before he walked to the door and opened it his hand coming up to cup around his mouth

" THEIR ATTACKING " he screamed your body trembling at the way the table shook along with it " calling all units anyone in the vicinity the inmate I am locked up with is having a tantrum of some kind and I do not think I can handle it alone "

Your heart broke as you watched the male in front of you turn back to look at you holding nothing but hate in his eyes " I ask that you help me remove the inmate and get them out of our station immediately "

Several people running in cleaning up the scene and taking pictures before someone uncuffed you and dragged you towards the tall male by the door.

" Chief where do you want em "

" I want em on the next bus to tokyo "

Your head swirling " wh— "

" everyone exit while I talk to the inmate quickly alerting them of their next adventure " everyone moving silently to follow his demands his eyes going directly to yours as everyone raced down the hallway and away from you two

" your going to tokyo — I can't fucking do this — "

" but what would I do there's no one "

" go see bokutou — at this point you've pissed me off I can't do much else for you just — go ask for a new life really " his voice came out in a short laugh at his ending words

" boku— "

" y/n I said i'm pissed off and done with you — you keep interfering with my job and honestly this murder charge was the last strike for me— your of age now I can’t get you outta this shit— so if you could just get a new identity and get the hell away from me id seriously appreciate it "

" daichi I "

" you don't say anything "

" your my — your my brother we’re suppose to be there for each other and you "

" i'm not your anything as of right now you prick " his voice was sharp and held meaning as he snapped at uou " not your brother — your friend — your back up call when you get into weird shit I — I wanted to be a nice police officer and move my way up to chief I wanted to have kids a — a family y/n " he scoffdd " not a shitty sibling who keeps using my job against me and has me pulling strings that shouldn't even exists "

" but "

" you see how I keep cutting you off it's because I don't want to hear you y/n — you annoy the fuck out of me so seriously " he moved his shoulder to glide through the doorframe and past you "just go do what you criminal assholes do and get a new identity and the fuck away from me as soon as possible I want nothing to do with you "

" sooooo thats how you ended up with me " the air in the new room shifted from confusing to happiness as the dual colored male in front of you screamed " THATS AWESOME YOU HAVE SUCH A BADASS BACK STORY "

He jumped up and covered his face dramatically before he spoke "twas a dark night when y/n changed their ways and gave birth to a criminal — a murdering criminal who came to the one and the only — bokuto koutaro the amazingily cool , strong , funny , king of connections — thus creating a beautiful friendship and a dark and powerful villian story "

He smiled at your beat and battered face youd received from your brother a day ago before he spoke again his hair drooping slightly " too much ? "

#haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyu x reader #haikyuu daichi #daichi headcanon #daichi angst #daichi x y/n #daichi sawamura #daichi x you #bokutoxreader #bokutou #bokuto #koutarou x you #haikyuu koutarou #hq koutarou #koutarou x reader #koutarou angst #haikyuu kiyoko #hq kiyoko #kiyoko x y/n #kiyoko x reader #kiyoko shimizu #kiyoko scenario

[atsumiye]

Yeah let's have it lol. And it might be small to others but it's big to you so it still matters.

STOP HJSAFGHGDIQWUOHGUBHA i love you thank you!!! you are very sweet for saying that <333 i love complaining to people!! this is fun and i switched to my computer so i could type more and faster lmao long rant ahead

OKAY OKAY lets start with the fact that i couldnt fall asleep last night no matter how exhausted i was. ill blame it on pre school jitters but it was annoying bc i am not a morning person. right so i have to go to this place thats like 30 min away from me by bus for my ONE class so i had to wake up extra early too so ofc!! i was tired!!! and i knew it would happen so i planned everything and set it all up so it would move a bit faster in the morning (SOB i am someone who takes 15 minutes to like put on socks in the morning if im tired) also!! i just got back to my apartment like a few days ago so everything is still in suitcase (im lazy) so i knew i would need something or whatever and so i planned for it. ANYWAY everything was going okay UNTIL i put on my outfit i was so excited for. okay listen i bought this sweater right before covid happened and its so cute and never got to wear t so ive been pumped and i purposely laid it out flat so it wouldnt wrinkle and then this morning IT WAS SO WRINKLY and then i put on these pants that i love that literally fit last week and they were like falling down and i couldnt do anything about it bc i didnt want to be late and my hair was straightening properly so i looked dumb I WILL ADMIT THOUGH my makeup and jewelry looked poppin. get to the bus only to find out that this deal the used to have of like 3 months of free bus rides for quite cheap NO LONGER EXISTS so now my budget for the month is all out of wack too. now, my friend told me to wait for her only for her to SHOW UP LATE and then get MAD AT ME when i told her i would go by myself to class. SCREAMS and we arent even done. its still only 8:50 am at this point. we get to class and i realize I DONT THINK I UNPLUGGED MY STRAIGHTENER i live alone so this??? is an issue. so im concerned the whole class and then my teacher tells me i have 3 weeks to make a 20 page thesis <333 and wouldnt give us good examples of what kind of topics to pick <333 now class ends early so thats a plus and me and my friend decide to go eat lunch later which is something to look forward to but i get to the bus station and start waiting with some friends but there is a ton of traffic due to construction so we waited for 30 minutes, in the cold, for a bus that NEVER SHOWED UP. so my friends decide we should walk home. and im so panicked thinking about how i might have almost started the biggest fire in world history i agree. AND on the way once we start walking this guy i used to LIKE a lot literally ignored me this morning so i made sure to say hi to him when i walked past him and he was so dry :l and im over my little crush on him but??? you cant IGNORE ME??? anyway back to the walking home. BABE ITS AN HOUR AND 15 MINUTE WALK AND I START SWEATING. and my white shoes got really dirty. then i say goodbye to my friends and he tries to hug me but i realize i have like a mini lake underneath my sweater so i dodge him and look like an idiot <333 then i embarrass myself over text to my hopefully soon-to-be boyfriend. but i get home and my straightener was unplugged so all was good but then i wait until 3 pm for my friend to answer my texts about lunch only for her to go eat lunch with her parents :D without telling me :D and ive been starving for hours :D then!!! this lady who was supposed to help me clean my kitchen CANCELLED AGAIN. so i took a nap and woke up late and now i wont be able to sleep. as i said this may seem so insignificant but it kept piling on and these are only the things i can remember <333 there was definitely so much more <33

and honestly this is truly how my days go like one time i went to go get coffee and came home to the police bc the mafia set a car on fire near me <33 this is how my life runs <33 me and my near death experiences <33 ANYWAY this part was kinda unrelated but i felt like it needed to be added. so if you made it to the end of this without wanting to claw your eyes out thanks <333 and if you want any more story times pls let me know i will literally talk about them any day any time akgduewd

#in the fishnet #><>.anon #SHOULD I GIVE THIS ITS OWN TAG #ALL MY BAD EXPERIENCES AT SCHOOL AJKGDIUW

[kawanisshi]

changing of the seasons;

pairing: iwaizumi hajime x reader (ft. oikawa as your lovely ex boyfriend)

genre: hanahaki au, angst, fluff

word count: 2.1k words

warnings: blood, vomit 

a/n: this is for the cheese cult’s hanahaki event, i am so nervous to publish this since it’s my first fic but i hope you all enjoy! heart goes out to @shishinoya and @cupofkenma for beta-ing, thank you so much <33 also thank you to @akaashichigo for creating the discord server, allowing me to meet amazing creators and inspiring me to write, you have no idea how much this server means to me!!

i.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

And then it came. The first bloom.

Cut to you being seventeen, in love, your heart and soul soaring through the skies with nothing bringing you down. You were unstoppable, reckless, invincible. When you were with him - with Tooru - you could shake away every pretense you put on and show yourself in your most vulnerable state. You could shed the rough and weary skin you wore and reveal the skeleton underneath. You allowed yourself to be raw, to be real.

“I need to go,” your breath hitches as you step away from him, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. He doesn’t try to stop you.

How long would it take until you could do that again? Feel like that again? With someone else? You were Icarus, high on adrenaline and confidence, never looking back. He was the devil, always playing with fire, so you joined him, thinking he would never burn you.

Turn left at the end of this street, then straight down. A right turn here. Left, right, then left again. Keeping your mind preoccupied with directions is the most you can do to keep yourself distracted. You have no idea where your destination is; you just knew you needed to get as far away as possible.

You trusted the world too much. You didn’t expect it to come crashing down, and when it did, every fiber of your being shattered along with it.

Doubled over next to a lamp post, you feel anxiety and uncertainty nestling in the corners of your lungs. Or was that something else? You cough. A tickle at the back of your throat. Are you still in love with him? You cough again, bringing a hand to your mouth. An answer. A reassurance of the worst form unfurls in the palm of your hand, in the form of a white petal.

The sound of approaching footsteps catches your attention, and you frantically look up from your pathetic position, only to be met with familiar eyes.

“Hey, you okay? I saw you from down the street and I–” His gaze is soft, laced with concern.

“Iwaizumi, I–” you desperately search your brain for a reply, choking back tears and blood, “Tooru– he–”

“I know.”

His gaze trails down to the petal you held in your hand, dotted with flecks of red, and he swallows. He knows.

Silence settles between the two of you before he crouches down next to you and sighs, eyes level with yours.

“This won’t do,” he quips, the resolve clear in his voice, “C’mon, let’s get your mind off of things.”

“Where are we going?” you croak, surprised by the sudden suggestion.

“Cinema.”

“We’re watching a film?”

“No, shitsponge, we’re going for a swim,” he rolls his eyes, sarcasm dripping from his tongue.

Iwaizumi was always like that. You two had been good friends since before you and Oikawa were romantically involved, and you’d learned to count on him in the worst situations. You stand and nod, half a mind set on moving on, and the other half transfixed on the white petal that emerged from your lungs.

--- ii.

Iwaizumi walks you back from the cinema, the pair of you chatting animatedly. Your heartbreak is almost forgotten, but all it takes is one memory, one familiar sight, to shatter the illusion. Your footsteps come to a halt as you spot the swingset where you shared your first kiss. It was the beginning of what you thought would’ve been forever.

It all comes crashing down. You miss him. Suddenly, all of the memories are being thrown your way like punches, bruising your whole body.

Holding hands in his pocket. Him always being the one to lean in first. You on the edge of your toes. Him meeting you halfway. His hands on your jaw, soft, gentle. Your face buried in the arch of his back. Fingers tracing shapes on arms. Whispering ‘I love you’ when you thought he was asleep. Him squeezing you because he wasn’t, wordlessly letting you know that he loved you too. Love as the underlying constant, the unrelenting heartbeat underneath your every action. He was the voice of an angel, a dream, whispering ‘I love you so much’ in between desperate kisses. How could that same voice tell you he didn’t care about you anymore? How could that voice, the one that once called itself a life jacket, be the same one with a tight chokehold on your throat, stopping you from breathing?

Next thing you know, you’re on your knees, asphalt and tar setting your skin on fire. That was nothing, though, compared to the ache clawing at your lungs. Pain and anguish materialised in your chest, and you hacked and coughed and heaved to try and get rid of it.

The petals are the first to come out: sloppy, limp, and clinging to the surface of your tongue. You spit them out, disgusted by the sight. Then, you feel something significantly larger pushing up and out of your trachea. You cannot breathe and your chest feels as though it’s about to explode.

Tears were freely falling now, the caverns of your eyes flowing out into waterfalls. You reach inside your mouth with your fingers and pull, your body numb to the pain. You retch at the sensation crawling up your throat, and almost pass out when you finally recover the flower, stem and all. You toss it aside.

All the strength in your body dissipates upon registering the scene in front of you, blood and petals and saliva intermingling to form a beautiful crime scene, the kind of stuff poets write about. But this isn’t a poem. You feel filthy and pathetic and tired, and you just want to collapse.

“Hey- hey, look at me. Look at me,” he crouches down and holds your face in his hands, “you’ll be fine. You’ll be okay.” You were so absorbed in yourself that you almost forgot he was there. He wipes at your tears with his thumb, and you lean into his touch. His hands aren’t the ones you were used to; they are rougher, more calloused, but they are warm.

And for now, they are enough.

--- iii.

“I should get the surgery,” a statement. You weren’t asking for his opinion, but he gives it anyway.

“Don’t,” his tone is sharp, “you shouldn’t. It… it’s risky.” Iwaizumi looks up from his textbook and fiddles with the pen in this hand. He turns and looks at the vase of lilies sitting on your windowsill. “Plus… the flowers, I think they’re nice. They’re proof that you’re human, that you can love.”

You almost laugh. He has taken a liking to taking care of the full blooms ejected from your mouth, coming over a few times a week to water the flowers. You secretly despise the sight of them, but you let him indulge himself. It was the least you could do, after how much he’d helped you.

“I never would have pegged you for a romantic, Iwa,” you tease.

He throws his pen at you and huffs. You dodge. An exasperated groan escapes his lips before he places his head on your desk, indicating that he was done with studying.

You could still taste that pungent fragrance on your tongue. God, you hated lilies.

In reality, you appreciated his presence, a lot more than you let on. You think of the many times he’s been there for you since the breakup. Suddenly you were in your bathroom at 2am, throwing up poison and acid, him holding your knotted hair, a steady hand on your back. He was always there; calm, unwavering, an anchor. The rhythmic heartbeat in his chest when you were crying against it for no apparent reason. The warm hands enveloped around your trembling ones, keeping you steady as you walked home from the cinema. Him, stable and unmoving when you were a hurricane, a blizzard, a storm.

“Hey,” you speak up, “uh, I never did say thank you. So… thanks. For being here. It means a lot.”

He picks his head up and looks at you before turning back around, scowling. He places his head back on your desk.

“Don’t mention it, dumbass.”

You think you notice a slight flush on his cheeks.

--- iv.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, handing you a cup of coffee. “Your, uh,” he gestures at his chest area, “lungs still at it?”

You scoff. He asks this every other day, even though he knows the answer won’t change.

“Yes,” you answer. “They are, but..” you hesitate. Should you tell him? You think you’re getting better. The flowers aren’t lilies anymore. They are honey coloured now, and taste like spring. He will be pleased, but you don’t want to give him good news in case your condition worsens again.

“But what?”

“Nothing,” you reply. He shoots you a stern look, but doesn’t question it any further. As you walk to campus, you notice how the morning sun washes his eyes in warm hazel, flecks of gold dancing amidst an olive backdrop. You sip your coffee and think of how the scent wafting into your nostrils reminds you of his skin, of molten caramel and honey. A breeze passes; it’s chilly, a hint at autumn’s arrival. He shivers and turns towards you, and you notice the violets growing in the expanse beneath his eyes. You frown. Has he been worrying?

“My lecture hall’s this way,” he says, pointing at the building to your left, “I’ll see you later-”

“They’re buttercups,” you blurt out. “The, uh, flowers. I didn’t know whether I should tell you. They’re buttercups now, I don’t really know what this means but, maybe I’m one step closer to getting over him? They’re smaller, so, I guess I’m doing better.”

He gives you a smile, and his eyes soften. You think about the coffee he bought you, and how the warmth radiated by the coffee cup in your hands was the same warmth you felt from his gaze.

“I’m glad,” he says, and you wave him goodbye. I’m glad too, you think. I hope this stops soon.

You hope, sincerely, that one day, he will ask that same question he asks every other day, and you’ll be able to give him an answer that he isn’t used to.

--- v.

The flowers do not stop blooming, but the attacks aren’t as relentless anymore.

A sharp pain in your throat jolts you awake, and you sit up, picking up the bowl you kept next to your bed. Your mind is still foggy from the remnants of sleep, but your body moves by itself. This was routine by now.

Iwaizumi stirs from his position at your desk, picking his head up and turning around to look at you. You glance at the clock beside you, and begin to apologise for waking him up when a coughing fit seizes you. He sighs, and moves to sit next to you on the bed, rubbing circles on your back.

“You really-” you’re interrupted by a cough, “should stop staying over and falling asleep at my desk.” He leans down and picks up stray petals off the floor, placing them into the bowl before taking it from your hands and putting it back on your nightstand. He doesn’t reply, choosing instead to place a hand at the crook of your neck, brushing his thumb over your collarbone. His expression is unreadable.

You continue. “It’s not-” another cough, “it’s not good for your sleep. I can tell. You’ve got these really dark circles now, and-”

“You know-- you can let go. You can learn to love again. Find someone new,” his breath ghosts over your skin. Your mind swirls amongst the clouds, dew drops trickling through your veins. The moon casts a pearlescent halo around his figure, and for a moment you forget how to breathe.

“Like who?” you whisper back, voice trembling. Your eyes are drawn to his, but he’s looking somewhere else. His gaze flickers up to meet your own, before trailing down, back towards your lips.

And with that, he closes the gap between you.

You feel your chest swell, but it wasn’t the kind you had grown used to. The literal kind that tore your lungs apart, ripping into your heart and leaving nothing but blood and fire in its wake. No, this time you felt it bloom in the metaphorical sense. This time, it was a wash of sunlight: slow, warm, inviting.

There is a burst of heat, and you feel your chest expand. Your next breath comes slower, deeper than you’re used to, and you catch the faint smell of ashes on your tongue. As if the overgrowth in your lungs had crumbled to dust. As if spring had finally come to an end.

You can let go, he’d said, you can learn to love someone else.

And as you feel his lips part against yours, you thought to yourself, perhaps I already have.

my loves:  @akaashichigo @drainedjaz @haikkeiji @annalyn-annalyn @mlkytobio @sosugasweet @cali-writes-sometimes @simping4ratsumu @shishinoya @ushiwakaa @from-left-to-write @akaashit-baeji  @kxgeyamasmilk @agaassi @hanibuni @cupofkenma @milkandc00kiez @thiccbokuto @shinsukestan @sufiawrites @wakaitoshi @skyguy-peach @fern-writes-ig @briswriting @kawaiikraykray @bubbleteaa @miyuswriting @raevaioli @ouikarwa @hakueishirei @pineapplekween @estherwritess @keiji-n @achoohq @badlywritten-hq @mochibeaa @oinkanna @chxrry-wxne @spudicide @airybby @asranomical @karmasuna @nekoglasses

#iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #hanahacheese #cheese cult fic event #cheese cult #hq x reader #haikyuu writing #tw blood #tw vomit #haikyuu hanahaki #ash writes #ahhhh i hope you all like this!!! #hanahaki #haikyuu

[cryptidax]

Kazuomi: Voice lines

Voice Claim: Atsushi Tamaru

Note: the lower the voice line is, the higher your friendship with Kazuomi needs to be to view it.

Added to team: Oh? What task do you have to interest me today?

Hello: Kazuomi, Captain of the knight of Favonuis's Strike team, The little party you formed has caught my attention for a while now. Do allow me to join your journey. Traveling with you sounds more appealing than handling the slackers of the knights.

Chat: Training : You want to join me for training?... You have no sense of self-preservation, Do you?

Chat: Height : It is cute how short you are, traveler.

Chat: Trivial Requests : As much as I know that a knight must help those who ask for it. I can't help but be irritated when a person requests assistance because they are too lazy to do it themselves. Take this as a warning if you ever slack off, traveler.

When It Rains: A little rain won’t stop us. Let us continue on.

Good Night: Tired? Take a rest traveler, If you wish to continue your journey with me tomorrow. Then do call me.

Good Morning: Good morning little traveler, let us make this day one worth our time.

Good Evening: Night has fallen. If you are scared of the creatures in the shadows, then leave. I will handle them.

When It Snows: Cold : Cold? Take my coat, I won’t be needing it.

When It Snows: Thoughts : How annoying.

When It's Windy: Knowing a certain redhead, he must be saying some climactic line about crime right now.

Good Afternoon: Want to stop for a meal? I know a good place to dine if you wish to join me.

About Us: Requests : If you ever need something, call me. I am willing to pull some strings for you.

About Us: Competency : It seems like I have underestimated how capable you are. Good. At least you are not incompetent. 

Interesting Things: I don’t drink. Drinking dulls my senses and frankly. I do not see how invigorating others make it to be.

About Kazuomi: My title? It’s just another name dramatic folks want to call me by.

About the Vision: Visions are said to be gifts to those who are worthy. The cryo archon has a funny way of making people worthy of these “gifts”.

Something to Share : Ever since we were young, Jean and I have a little game where I steal her slices of pizza, and she has to catch me. Don't worry. I always buy her another serving after I do successfully do it.

About Jean: Jean is worthy of her title as acting grandmaster. Honestly, I do hope she gets to keep the title. She deserves it after all her hard work.

About Kaeya: *Sigh* What has Kaeya done this time? Oh? you're just curious? Well then, As a co-worker Kaeya is a capable captain when he wants to. As a friend, Kaeya is my ever-appearing headache.

About Diluc: You want to know about Master Diluc? Well... I can say that he is a responsible citizen of Mondstadt. That is all that I can say without Diluc appearing out of nowhere and sending a flaming phoenix towards me. Honestly, I wonder if Diluc has some sort of tracker attached to me in case I say something embarrassing about him.

About Diona: The little munchkin is so young yet so ambitious. I see her as my younger sibling. Whenever I have free time, I try to spend it playing with her and sometimes teaching her new techniques.

About Sucrose: Her shy attitude is so entertaining. The embarrassed expression on her face whenever I tease her about it is gold. Albedo always calls on her whenever I try to tease her even more though.

About Eula: Topics: She always talks about Revenge, Revenge, Revenge. It is quite a show to see her try to continue on with her speech whenever Amber pops up to invite her to another of their outings.

About Eula: Skills: I get assigned to patrol with Spindrift Knight quite often. It is almost funny how well we fight together. I once heard a guarding knight that they pitied the monsters that we will come across on our patrol. It gave me a good laugh that day.

About Albedo: Have you met the little prince before? He's such fine company. One time when I was able to put a flower crown on him, He threw his paintbrush at me. It was worth it though, He did look cute when I put a flower crown on his hair.

About Kazuomi: I : What's next?

About Kazuomi: II : Want to join me for a round of chess? Don't worry, I'll go easy on you.

About Kazuomi: III : It seems like I won. You put up a good challenge traveler.

About Kazuomi: IV : Ready for a rematch? *laugh* Don't sulk, I'll teach you how to get better if you want to.

About Kazuomi: V : I enjoy the challenges, you present traveler. I do hope you will never cease entertaining me. Though, with your attitude, it seems like it will not be that hard for you.

Kazuomi's Hobbies: I enjoy taking care of my cat, Ombre. It pains me whenever I have to leave her alone during missions, but the knights always feed her when I'm gone. Whenever I do stay within the city, I make sure to spend time with her. Sometimes I even let Ombre join me at a patrol around Mondstadt. On one particular patrol, I was able to teach her how to claw a Treasure Hoarder's face.

Kazuomi's Troubles: I can feel the paperwork of irresponsible knights stacking up at my office as we speak. Honestly, Sometimes I think of just freezing and shattering the papers themselves. Maybe I should disappear for a week to teach them a lesson...

Favorite Food: I enjoy Sautéed Matsutake for a dish. The flavors of the Matsutake, spices, and butter come together so wonderfully. If only I can keep some of it wherever I go...

Least Favorite Food: Seafood would be my least favorite dish. I know knights must not be picky eaters, but I cannot stomach the taste and texture of seafood. I can tolerate fish, but shrimps, octopuses, and crabs are a big no in my book.

Birthday: Happy Birthday, my favorite traveler. If you have any tasks to do for today, then tell me. I will willingly do them in your stead instead. After all, you do deserve a rest on your special day.

Feelings About Ascension: Intro : Well this is a surprise.

Feelings About Ascension: Building Up : Things are about to get a lot more interesting...

Feelings About Ascension: Climax : I thought my life was just a form of entertainment for those above. Yet, it seems like you were able to show me another view of it. Thank you, Partner, for doing that. *laugh* Don't act so surprised. I apologize if I had not shown my thankfulness to you sooner.

#🧡..Kazuomi #🧡..oc #I AM FINALLY #DONE WITH VOICELINES #WHOOOOO