#that I understand in lots of ways I’m in the wrong

[leaderwonim]

unconditional love. ✧ park sunghoon x fem!reader genre: bittersweet fluff, coming of age angst

you liked park sunghoon, you truly did. he was kind, intelligent, and had that soft introverted persona on the outside.

when you got to know him, he became the most funny and loudest person to ever exist, which had your heart doing backflips.

it wasn’t him that was the issue. it was you. you always had commitment issues, never being able to settle down because of your past pulling you behind. i mean—how could anyone ever like you? you felt as thought you were too loud, too annoying, too irritable, just too much.

despite your brain constantly bringing you down, park sunghoon loved you. he loved every single piece of you, the way you’d blow your perfect hair out of your face as you concentrated on the textbook in front of you, the way your eyebrows would furrow when you didn’t quite catch a question or answer, the way you’d prop your head onto your knees as a way to comfort yourself.

god, park sunghoon swore you were the one. he didn’t care that his friends warned him about your earned title of being a ghoster when it came to relationships, he didn’t care that it felt like he was constantly putting in more effort than you.

as long as he’s got you, he doesn’t care. so how did the two of you end up in this situation?

“i don’t get it,” sunghoon frowns, “what did i do wrong?”

“you didn’t do anything wrong,” you say exasperatedly, “in fact, you were perfect sunghoon. you were everything i wanted and more—it’s just me.”

park sunghoon hated the classic it’s me not you excuse when it came to situations like these. but because it’s you, he lets it slide, even though he already feels the tears coming.

“i don’t want to hurt you any longer, hoonie. you have to understand i’m ending this because i care about you too much to put you through hell.”

sunghoon solemnly nods, knowing whatever he’ll say won’t change anything, that it’s already too late and you’ve already made up your mind.

it’s cruel, he thinks. life. how it could be so depressing and meekly all at once.

it wasn’t until a year later that sunghoon and you crossed paths again. you two were now sophomores in college, and had even attended the same university.

you had gotten a boyfriend, finally deciding to settle down after maturing and realizing how much of a piece of shit you were to all the boys at your high school.

his name was heeseung and he had treated you like a princess, reminding you of how sunghoon used to treat you back in senior year.

now here you were, sitting on one of the university steps with your head hung low. your parents had given you the call about them divorcing, right in the middle of your sophomore year. you were miles away, and was heartbroken knowing your family was splitting in two without you being there physically to support them.

“hey, you okay?”

you knew that voice better than anyone.

“hoon?” you sniffle. “i’m sorry—why am i even calling you that.”

“it’s okay.” he reassures you, patting your back as he takes a seat. “what’s wrong?”

“parents are getting divorce,” you scoff. “guess thats karma for all the things i put you through.”

“don’t say that.” sunghoon gently wipes away your tears, frowning when he sees more appear.

“you shouldn’t even be comforting me, i treated you like shit sunghoon, i got a new boyfriend right after i said i couldn’t settle down with you.”

“who cares?” sunghoon says, and for the first time, you don’t see the romantic love he used to have in his eyes for you. “we’re young! of course you’re going to find other people.”

you’re in awe at the maturity sunghoon is displaying. you knew it took a lot of courage for him to do so.

“why are you being so nice, sunghoon?”

“the world is already cruel, yn.” sunghoon sighs. “so therefore, i won’t be.”

and although his words won’t stop the divorce of your parents or the sadness filling your chest, it makes you feel a tad bit lighter, knowing that you had someone like park sunghoon in your life.

#enhypen x reader #enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fic #enhypen fluff #enhypen texts #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x y/n #enhypen x you #enhypen scenarios #enhypen soft hours #enhypen ff #sunghoon x y/n #sunghoon x you #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon scenarios #sunghoon fanfic

[multi-fandom-imagines8]

The Princess & the Spy

Warnings: angst, death

A/N: Hello everyone, I’m back! It’s been a couple of years. I wrote this at 3 a.m, so bare with me.

Summary: Y/n is the princess of Vallahan. Her father joins the king of Hybern during the war and Azriel is sent there to spy. He meets y/n and uses her for information. When she finds out, she’s angry, heartbroken and decides to join the war with her father.

Word count: 1.58K

In recent days, escalating tension caused by the inevitable war the king of Hybern planned against the mortal realm spread. The king of Vallahan was rumored to have aligned with Hybern. Despite the growing support for this alliance within Vallahan, princess Y/n remained against it. She actively tried to swat her father but to no avail. Reluctantly, she attended the war strategy meetings at her father’s behest, though she always sought a means to evade them. One night, as she slipped away from yet another meeting, she encountered a mysterious figure lurking in the shadows. As she moved closer, she was met with a handsome male, who was taken aback the minute she laid eyes on him.

“Are you new here? I have never seen you before” she inquired, her lips curving into a tentative smile.

“I- I am… kind of” the male stammered.

“I rarely have the opportunity to meet new people. I’m Y/n” she introduced herself, extending her hand.

“Your highness” he bowed respectfully “I’m Azriel”.

“I see you’ve heard of me. I had hoped otherwise” Y/n remarked, a tinge of disappointment in her tone.

“Of course, you are the princess of Vallahan. Why is it that you don’t want to be recognized?” Azriel inquired with genuine curiosity.

Y/n sighed softly “Because the moment people find out who I am, they start treating me with formality and- and distance”.

“I see” a gentle smile appeared on his face “May I ask a favor of you?”

“Depends”.

“If you keep our encounter a secret, I promise to return and engage with you on a more casual level” he offered.

“Alright. Your secret is safe with me” her eyes sparked with excitement, but little did she know that her trust just made Azriel’s mission a lot easier.

As days and weeks passed, Azriel would come and start a conversation with her , gradually coaxing Y/n to confide in him about the war discussions she detested attending. Unbeknownst to her, she began to harbor feelings for him, while Azriel, in turn, found himself unexpectedly drawn to her. However, their affection took a tragic turn one night when Y/n failed to appear at their customary location. Concerned for her well-being, Azriel , being a shadowsinger, inquired about her whereabouts and teleported to her chambers, only to find her in tears.

“Y/n?” He spoke softly.

“A-Az?” she was startled by his sudden presence.

“What’s wrong?” seeing tears in her eyes, made him feel something he didn’t wish to.

“How did you get in here?” She quickly wiped away her tears.

“That’s not important right now. Who hurt you?” He asked, stepping closer with concern.

“No one. It’s just… I am a fool. I thought that somehow my father would not join this war. Despite knowing his nature, I had little hope. I just- I don’t understand. I’m just tired and I don’t wish to talk about this today” she rubbed her face wearily.

“It’s alright. You are not a fool. You simply see the best in everyone” he hesitated before sitting at the corner of her bed.

“And look where that got me”.

Unsure if he should proceed, knowing that he’s also not as good as she thinks he, he decided to speak up “Y/n, there’s something I need to tell you”.

She turned to face him, curiosity all over her face “what is it?”.

“If I asked you to run away with me, would you?”.

She chuckled softly “You know I can’t. I have a responsibility towards my people”.

“But with the war looming, doesn’t that change things?” He hoped she’d agre, that she’d be out of harm’s way when the war started. When they had to fight her father, her people. He had hoped that he’d be able to protect her, to spare her, but deep down he knew. He knew that was not going to happen, especially since he’s been lying to her, manipulating and deceiving her all this time, she’d never accept once she found out the truth.

“There was a time when I wanted to run away, to go very far away and never look back. To be free, but I cannot, Az” she responded.

“Please” he pleaded.

“Why do I sense there’s something you’re not telling me? Why the sudden talk about leaving?” she moved closer, placing her hands atop his.

He took a deep breath before speaking again “because I’m leaving tonight. I’m returning home-“.

“Well, you can always come back” she interrupted.

“No, you don’t understand. My home is not here, it’s far away and I won’t be returning, at least not in the same manner” he clarified.

“Not in the same manner? Az, you’re not making any sense. If your home is far away, why were you here?” She withdrew her hands, but he held onto hers.

“I am sorry for what I am about to tell you and know that I truly am sorry for everything. It was not supposed to end like this. I initially came here to spy on your father and report back to my high lord. When you caught me and I realized who you are, I saw an opportunity and I took it. I know it was wrong, and I apologize. If I could take it all back, I would, but I can’t. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but you deserve the truth. When the war starts, we’ll find ourselves on opposite sides and I- I wanted to get you out of here. You’re not like th-“.

“Do not finish that sentence” she shook her head, trying to hold the tears from falling “I was a fool. I should’ve known. You- you… All this time I’ve been working for the enemy without knowing it, how am I supposed to face my people now? Get out! I never want to see you again” she declared, feeling something inside her fracture.

“Y/n, please. I-“.

“Leave. NOW! I don’t want to hear anything that comes out of your mouth. Leave before I call the guards” she shut her eyes, not knowing what she was hoping for: for him to stay or for him to do as she says and leave forever.

He was about to say something, but seeing how much pain he had caused her, he chose to comply. When she reopened her eyes, he had vanished, as though he had never been there. All the memories, the joy he had brought her, it was all a lie. Her heart broke into a million tiny little pieces that night. He left her the night she needed him the most. That night made her choice to join the war easier.

—-

On the battlefield she had hoped to encounter him. She didn’t know the extent of his power, she had only heard rumors about what he could do in the past two days. Yet, today, she decided she’s going to fight him. From a distance, she could spot two warriors that were distinct from the rest, and she knew one of them was Azriel. She fought her way to him and the minute she reached him, her heart sank. She still loved him, but she couldn’t back down now. She owed her people for what she had done. All that blood was on her hand. She gave him all the information he needed to attack and slaughter them. Even if she can’t defeat him, she’ll at least die with her people. As she reached him, he froze as his eyes met her. Azriel always knew what to do, but at the moment he was lost and he was afraid. She saw his hesitation and took that to her advantage and attacked him. He easily blocked her attack, but she kept swinging her sword at him. He kept in a defensive position, not wanting to hurt her by mistake, he has already done enough damage. Y/n was getting frustrated, trying harder and harder to land a blow on Azriel, determined to defeat him. He moved with precision, effortlessly blocking each blow she aimed at him, his movements a silent plea for her to stand down, but she would not yield, her determination fueled by rage and hurt. That rage was controlling her, blinding her, making her vulnerable. With a swift motion, Azriel disarmed her, his blade halting just short of her chest as he held her at bay “this doesn’t have to end this way” he urged, barely able to speak, his heart aching at the sight of what she had become. In that instant, she realized she could never defeat him or erase him from her heart. He had won twice, and she refused to let him win again. With that, she knew the only way out…she moved forward, letting the blade pierce her heart.

“NO!” Azriel screamed, retracting the blade immediately. Blood filled her lungs and covered her chest. As she began to fall, he caught her, his hands soaked with her blood “why would you do that?” He whispered, cradling her in his arms.

“It was the only way. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop loving you. I couldn’t let you win” she caressed his cheek.

“Stay with me” he pleaded, holding her tighter.

“It’s alright. I-I for-give-you” she uttered with her dying breath, her hand slipping from his face.

“I’m sorry” he repeated, bringing her lifeless body closer to his chest, his forehead resting against hers

#acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acotar angst #azriel angst #acotar fic #azriel acotar #azriel fanfiction #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar x y/n #acomaf #acowar #acosf #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #shadowsinger x reader #azriel fic #angst #azriel x oc #acotar x oc

[paperbackribs]

tags: steddie, pre-canon, season S2-ish, tommy hagan will always have a crush on Steve Harrington

🩵💥🩵

“Someday, you gonna get bitch-slapped, and I'm not gonna do a thing to stop it,” Steve hears the echo of his words in the Hawkins High boys’ bathroom. Spinning off the tiles, pinging against its corners and stabbing at Tommy who stands gasping at his best friend.

But Steve doesn’t care. This has been a long time coming.

Tommy is a prick and Steve thought there wasn’t anything wrong with going with the flow, ignoring the snide comments, looking away from the rumours that Carol would spread, as long as his friends remained by his side.

But Billy Hargrove had infected Hawkins High. Steve stopped swallowing the cool aid. And Tommy is fuming; red in the face and ready to take it out on any unfortunate soul that crosses his path.

Enter Steve.

Or, really, enter Eddie Munson.

Steve wasn’t sure if Tommy followed Eddie into the empty toilets or coincidentally came across him or whatever could be going on in the mixed up mind of his former best friend. But watching Tommy square off his stocky, muscular body against the other boy, boxed into the corner and wide, brown eyes only visible over Tommy’s shoulder, Steve swears that he’ll no longer look away from Tommy’s indiscretions.

So, he says it again, nodding to the leather clad boy in the corner, “Eddie’s going to take a swing at you and not only will I not defend you, I might even fucking taking a swing too.”

Tommy gapes, “What the fuck, Steve? I know we’ve been having troubles, but you’d take the freak’s side over mine?”

Eddie’s face twists in the background. Steve can see the anger warping his eyes and he doesn’t blame him, almost wishes that Eddie would take a swing and then Steve could just stand back and let it happen.

He sighs: he’s allowed a lot of things to just happen so far and it’s not to his credit.

Weirdly, Steve's resigned gaze meets Eddie’s incredulous look and, just for a moment, Steve feels like he’s met someone who gets it. Someone who sees the ridiculous, short-sighted nature of the petty bullying in the hallways of their high school and knows how stupid and utterly pathetic it is.

Steve swears that the corner of Eddie’s lips kick up at the irony of their shared understanding but is distracted as Tommy strides forward, knocking against his shoulder hard enough to send Steve spinning against the wood of a stall. He steadies himself as Tommy slams the bathroom door shut behind him with a clamorous bang and shakes his head: how could he have had such loyalty for a guy who won’t even stop to talk out their stupid shit together?

Steve thought he’d at least earned Tommy’s patience, a moment of Tommy’s time so they could talk this out and find a way forward again. He stares after his former friend, a hollow, gaping hole in his stomach as he grieves the friendship he thought they’d shared.

Eddie approaches with a gentle hand, laying it on Steve’s shoulder, “Are you all right, man?”

Steve swallows around the thickness in his chest and belatedly realises that his cheeks are wet. He clears his throat and, through a tight smile, says, “Yeah, don’t worry about it. Are you okay?”

The deep richness of those brown eyes regard him for a long moment and Steve feels stripped bare. He thought he was the guy rescuing Eddie, but he suddenly feels like the one vulnerable and exposed to the other boy.

Eddie smiles softly, “Yeah, got saved, right? How could I be anything but peachy keen?”

Steve snorts despite himself, amused by Eddie’s tongue-in-cheek tone, “Like a summertime in Georgia.” He can’t help but flash to Tommy’s retreating back and hates that his tone is already bitter, “Except I’m the stupid fucking tree alone in the grove.”

His head twitching slightly to the side, as if he were weighing Steve’s words, Eddie lightly responds, “Well, maybe it’s time to try another field. Wanna hang out sometime?”

Steve blinks, bewildered at the offer. The suggestion given so freely and without conditions seems anathema to his experience of friendship, and especially friendship in the complex halls of high school. He eyes the other boy suspiciously, but Eddie’s eyes remain clear, his body loose and almost curled towards Steve as if he were the north to his compass.

What could it hurt? Steve thinks.

Looking at what he can only describe as kindness in Eddie’s eyes, Steve thinks that a lot of things could hurt. Could burn or scald or stab, but the sweet, clear acceptance in Eddie Munson’s eyes has him thinking of a world where Steve can offer his loyalty and receive it in kind. A place where he can be good and feel like he’s doing good and perhaps a lovely brown-eyed boy would wait and tell him he’d done the right thing.

Eddie sticks out his hand in a gesture of friendship that only bolsters the words he’d already extended to Steve. And nothing moves in the cold room of Hawkins boys’ bathroom, no wind or breeze, but as Steve reaches out to clasp Eddie Munson’s outstretched hand, he feels a seismic shift that he can’t explain.

Steve’s fingers fold around the warmth of Eddie’s palm and Eddie’s full lips stretch into a smile, welcoming and true. A gesture that Steve can’t be sure of, can’t let himself fully trust; yet, nonetheless, Steve finds himself hopelessly following after Eddie’s extension of friendship.

And it'll eventually allow Steve to follow him to the confusing halls of the Hellfire Club.

To the strangely welcome space of Eddie's uncle’s trailer.

And Steve follows.

Because he is helpless but to follow this wide, brown-eyed boy who smirks at him with a knowing smile.

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #paperbackribs writing

[regendary]

You know, I think I understand where Shuro’s coming from, actually

I think he genuinely does love Falin, but his love for her is chained down by his extremely rigid sense of right and wrong

It’s easy to dismiss him, with many of us (especially fans of dungeon meshi) being Professional Yearners whose morality revolves around our love and not the other way around

I think the man just has other things he prioritizes higher than love, and he goes with his love as far as he can.

And while *I personally* don’t know what it’s like to feel that way, I can’t fault him for it. I’m just gonna throw my lot in with the people who love Falin in an insane, endlessly devoted way because I find it easier to empathize with

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #toshiro nakamoto #shuro dungeon meshi #falin touden #falin dungeon meshi

[jujutsukgojo]

My gifts to you

feitan portor x reader

Summary: You knew him for years for only moments at a time. Yet, you take it upon yourself to love and mourn him anyway, even when the world won't. tw: light smut, slight yandere feitan, spoilers, mentions of murder, light angst, fluff(?), injuries, cheating, time skips an: didn't mean for it to be this long. Feitan is a bit tricky for me but oh well :) kind of inspired by criminal minds 'no way out'. 10.8k

“If you tie it like this, it should stay, okay?” You tap the boy’s foot. Although he is smaller than you in height, his feet are bigger. It’s quite comical but you don’t dare laugh. In this blasted city, you’d be bound to die for such a thing. Especially if you laugh at someone with crazy hair and carries a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire.  

  He says something in a foreign language that you can’t understand. If you are correct, it may be inverted Japanese. In the books that one kid collects, there is a country, Japan, where the common language originates. Since the common language isn’t his mother tongue, it makes you wonder where he’s from and why he’s here. 

  The boy stands up to his full, but short, height. You sit on random rubble and look up at him, waiting for what he’ll do next. Will he call over Phinks or even bring Uvogin? He hangs out with Phinks mainly but who knows these days. 

   Instead of swinging the bat at you or calling over his friends, he pats your head awkwardly. You don’t make any sudden movements or noises. The boy leaves right after. A sigh escapes your lips after he leaves you behind.  

   What's his name again? Feitain? 

__________

  In your hut, you slightly stir the food that sizzles in the pan you found. It’s rare to come across tomatoes and eggs but you managed this time. The smell is mouth watering. You hope no one else can smell it. 

As much as you want to live elsewhere, this is what you settle for at the moment. In another world, you’d be out of this city and somewhere clean and safe. Like the church or something. No, even better than the church. You’ve heard of the outside where there are bright flashing lights and diamonds and pearls on people’s necks. There are flowers of all colors out there. Different shapes, smells, and meanings, they’re all beautiful. You hear that food isn’t scavenged but bought or given to people without a price.  

   People said they’ve seen the safety of children your age that play without a care. There are parents for the lost kids and doctors for the injured. Clean clothes and showers on the regular. You can even see the sun clearly and the big, round moon that doesn't bring out the wolves in men. 

There are pastors and priests that don’t turn people away, either. Hell, you have even wondered if there were schools there that allow everyone to get in. You're sure that you are reading and doing math wrong. How embarrassing.  

Finally done, you place the food on a plastic plate you found. You made sure to wipe the grime off the plate and rinsed it with clean water before using it. Even though you can just eat out of the pan, you want to seem sophisticated like the outside. They don't eat out of pans or use dirty plates. 

  The food steams and is welcoming. Without a lot of utensils, you pick at it with your hands. It burns at first but you’re too hungry. The flavor bursts in your mouth. Even without the proper seasonings, it’s still heaven. You haven’t eaten in a while so you’ll take what you can get.  

   Suddenly, the boy, Feitan, enters your hut. You gasp and protectively cover your food. He brings his foot out. His shoe, which he stole, is untied again. You swallow the substance and point out, “I taught you how to tie them.” 

“Tie.” 

“I taught you.” You set your plate down.  

“Tie.” You roll your eyes and pat your thighs. He walks over to you and places his dirt caked shoe on your lap. Slowly, you tie them.  

“There, see? Come on now, you need to learn. A little boy can’t grow without tying his shoes.” 

“I’m not little boy.” You give a breathy chuckle. “Of course you are, honey.” 

  He leans in close to your face. “I’m older than you.”  

...He does hang out with Phinks, who is a couple years older than you. In fact, it is rare to see them apart. Is it possible that it’s true? Is Phinks the type to be friends with someone who is younger?

 Curious, you ask, “Then why are you so short?” His eyes widened in shock. Then, strangely, he laughs while patting your head harshly. Studying his face revealed what looks like the beginning of a sinister smile.

  He looks at your plate and sits down in front of you. You’re both on the dirt floor. 

 “Give me.” You scoff and snap at him. “No! Find your own!” 

The little beast decided that the two of you should ‘share’. He smacks on his food, making you want to punch him repeatedly. He’s gaunt and bony, but not really bad like last time. His face has a tiny bit of roundness to it. 

  “Stop staring.” He inhales a tomato. “You look better than last time.”

“Better?” He cocks his head to the side. The remnants of the tomato smeared a little on his cheek.

“Yeah, healthier.” He stares at you for a second. “Thanks.” His accent is thick, and you still can’t place it. Nevertheless, you understand. Afterwards, much to your surprise, he sleeps in your hut now that his belly is full. Satisfied and strangely not afraid, you follow suit. It’s nice to have a friend, however strange.

You are barely awake, sleep still heavy in your eyes, when you see him pop up. Drool is crusted on his cheek, and he rubs his eyes. He yawns and then spots you next to him. Feitan eyes the entry of the hut then back at you. He puts the only cover you have on you then pets your head. 

  Before he leaves, he places his bat in your hand. Feitan secures the entry as he exits the hut. 

_____________

  It’s been years since you and Feitan have talked. You've gotten familiar with him but when Sarasa had died in such a disrespectful and gruesome way, he withdrew. In the meantime, you waited for him and studied a power you discovered. No matter the eyes that were always on you, you didn’t care about the mysterious and hidden audience. 

  You don’t know what it’s called but it started when you witnessed some kid about to get her ass handed to her by some thugs. The man had moved a pair of scissors without using his hands. They aimed right towards her and in a moment of instinct, you rushed to push her out of the way. Unfortunately, the scissors stabbed you in the shoulder.  

  It was then did you feel the rush of a force so strong, that it knocked everyone away from you. A faint white light that glowed from your skin that only your eyes could see. As you looked around in shock, you saw that same glow coming from that man and his friends. 

  You were gasping when you fell to your knees. “I-I’m sorry. I can’t be here!” The girl your age ran for her life and left you behind. In a moment of fear, you call out to her to help you. You were so afraid; you couldn't tell if the screams were hers or yours. Given the situation, you were too rattled, terrified and hurt, to focus.

The men shook for a second then got up to face you. The blood from your shoulder wasn’t stopping its flow. Crimson red stained your clothes and the ground. It was all so strange, such an unusual feeling of adrenaline that you couldn’t help but memorize. Almost as if the world had finally made sense. Every single thing became so much clearer to your dismay.  

  The men came towards you with malicious intent. While putting pressure on your injury, you managed to kick one of their legs, causing them to buckle and hurt his knee. He screamed in agony. 

  “G-get away!” You try to stand. The press of your hand on the wound isn’t helping. Is it supposed to bleed this much? It hit your shoulder, but did it nick something?  

  You need to stop it, to heal and get away from them. In this city, people like you are in danger from men like them. If you don’t get away, you’ll end up like Sarasa. She was never really close to you. She was a nice girl who always looked for video tapes, so you'd help her from time to time. Yet, her death scarred everyone since it was so close to home. And now, you no doubt are facing the exact same situation. Wrong place, wrong time.  

   Same fate.  

You fell back on the ground and looked at the sky. It has always been so dirty, just like the city due to pollution. Still so young, you know you won’t see what it really looks like. In the corner of your eye, you spot something green. A small clover with four leaves. 

  One time, an old man told a story of how four-leaf clovers are a sign of good luck. By the intense feeling and pressure of your eyes, you know it’s not true. Pain in all ways makes tears fall from your eyes. Lips wobbling at how unfair everything is and that you will never see the sun. The outside must really be heaven, and for someone so young who hasn’t committed a sin, you are wondering if you can go.

  Suddenly, flowers that you never knew blossomed around you. The soft petals touched your filthy skin and got rid of the aches. The blood on your shoulder faded from view as well as the pain. A soft and beautiful hum whispered in your ear. You truly believed it to be in your head, an imagination of paradise as you leave. Heaven, they call it. You must be close to the outside world then. 

  This must be it, you thought. There was no pain from a strike or fear. Just closed eyes and peace. Something you know you couldn’t get in the atrocious city.  

It ends. You were shocked as the beautiful flowers disappeared. Heaven, would you reject someone? 

  The men didn’t hurt you. The one whose knee was broken was able to move his leg. His red hair kind of glowed in the sun, and brown eyes were wide. He muttered a soft ‘thank you’ and walked away without a limp. His friends followed.  

   After that, you had realized that your ability wasn’t anything like scissors or something scary. It was to heal and be healed.

Although after immediately learning this, you didn't go out of your way to find the source of the screams in the direction the people went. First was the girl, then the group of men. After what you went through, it didn't seem like a good idea. 

 Feitan, somehow, got wind of it. Now in his later teen years you both estimate, he sits still and points to his arm. There’s a gnarly gash oozing blood. You wonder how he’s not feeling this and if he is, how he isn’t even fazed.  

  You gently pick up his arm and inspect it. He's thin but has clear definition in his arms. You haven’t seen him in so long that you are surprised by his growth. Hell, he’s taller now. Still short, but at least he grew.  

  In a jar, you take a premade petal. This is a way for you to save energy and reach people when you physically can’t tend to. Acting as a pill, you make sure that people can get infections out. For some reason, illnesses and infections are particularly tricky and tiring for you.  

  “Eat this, Feitan.” He frowns. “No.” You sigh. “It’s infected. You need to eat this so I can heal it right.” 

  “It’s not.”   

Rolling your eyes you bring his wound to his face. “This, this is infected. It's literally oozing pus.” How long did this go on? Was he really that hesitant to just come and see you?

  He growls and takes the delicate petal and places it in his mouth. “Stop pouting.”  

“Not pouting. It’s nasty.” He’s not wrong. It has a bitter taste and when chewed, a slimy texture. The color of the disintegrating petal leaves a stain in the mouth as well. If not for the benefits, no one would even bother. They'd be just as offended as Feitan.  

  The pus stops and clears up. “Alright, this’ll leave a scar.”  

You blow on your hand so that flowing blossoms surround him. Beautiful shades of pink and white go through his hair. With a gentle caress, you see the flurries touch his wound. It starts to encourage his own healing.  

  As much as you want to do the full thing, you’re tired. All day you’ve been working and collecting payments. Not to mention facing the disappointment of them being useless. You want to kick yourself for not getting paid first. But the sight of those grateful people and healed kids softens your heart.  

  Soon, it stops once the injury becomes manageable. You’re about to wrap it when a hand stops you. “What’s this?”  

  “Feitan, I'm tired. You caught me at a bad time.” You try to move your hand but he stops you. He's a lot stronger than you remember. “Heal.” 

His fluency isn’t the greatest still.  

“I’m tired! Just let it heal the rest of the way.” No matter how much you try to yank your hand away, his grip is too strong. “Please, Feitan...”  

  Surprisingly, he lets go and from what you can see, the subtle white glow appears and heals him the rest of the way, leaving small flames. “Feitan...what was that?” 

  He rolls his eyes and plops down on a chair. He says nothing and just relaxes, or at least that’s what he’s trying to make it seem like. It has been a while since you’ve seen him, but that doesn’t make you blind to his behaviors…sometimes. 

   “As a transmuter, I can heal a little by using enhancer,” He looks at you suspiciously. “You know nothing about nen?”

“Nen?” You put the gauze and other items in a black bag. It was found in the safe zone by the church. Apparently, it belonged to a doctor from the outside. The bag had all kinds of necessities. Gauze, medicine, some syringes, disinfectant, a thermometer, all kinds of stuff that you’ve had to use sparingly. What you save in the bag, you make up for with your ability. 

  He smacks his lips and calls you a ‘dumb brat’. “You use nen but don’t know it?”

Sighing, you ask, “What is nen, Feitan?” 

“What you do. Use your aura and stuff.” His arms are crossed, and he looks at you expectantly. You gather that he likes knowing things you don’t. It’s like a weak power trip. 

  But it is nice to finally have a name and explanation for it. And that’s what he did this time. Visiting you for a moment just to pick with you while teaching you something you should have known. 

“Wait, if you could do that, why’d you come here?” He just shrugs.

------

When you see him again, he brings his friends along. You immediately recognize some of them. Phinks, who ran with Feitan, the boy who always collected books, and Uvogin, the giant who was always claiming territory and beating people up. 

  Feitan should be twenty now. It’s hard to tell since he looks youthful. He points to his friend, the boy with the books, and orders, “Heal.”

“You can do it, Feitan, remember?” You were in the middle of cleaning when he and the rest of his posse pop up. They look flustered and a little worse for wear. 

  “Heal.” He always does crap like this. You roll your eyes at first. The body they carry tugs on your strings a bit. 

“Fine. Put him on the table.” Thankfully, it’s cleaned, and a new wrapping has been placed on it. Gently, the man is put on it. You spot the cross tattoo on his forehead. Ah, that’s where Feitan has been. Lately, there’s been whispers of the Phantom Troupe. Merciless killers and thieves from Meteor City that have been gaining respect over the years. Your opinion of them isn’t the greatest but it also isn’t the worst. You appreciate them for standing up for Meteor City, but their methods are questionable.

   You sigh and begin to undress the boy with the cross. “Is that necessary?” 

You continue to pull off his clothes, not bothering to answer the question the girl asked. If she can’t understand why you need to remove his clothes, then that’s on her. She scoffs after another female voice answers her question. 

  You finally see his wound. Feitan can heal himself to a degree, but you don’t think this guy can. The gash is deep and sewed with makeshift stitches. There’s no nen involved, surprisingly. Given that Feitan is an avid user, you thought his friends would be keen on it too. 

“He’s a specialist. Enhancer techniques are harder for him.” Phinks spoke. He must've understood your confusion. 

“And the stitches?” You gently investigate the area. It’s an angry red around it and, like you suspected, infected. It wasn’t properly taken care of. You begin to remove the stitches. You wonder what the thread is made of and how long this has been going on. 

“He,” Phinks points to Uvogin. “And him,” He then points to another large man with long ears. “Thought they could do it. Normally, Machi heals us but they were away from her. Her stitches would have helped him but not any infections.”

  “Ah, well this requires more than I thought.” You touch the ground and out comes a beautiful swirl of flowers. Underneath the moving petals is a blooming sunflower. It picks the guy up so he rests on it. The bed of the flower glows softly and becomes warm. His once wincing face is now peaceful. His injury is slowly closing and the red is beginning to turn pink. 

“The downside of this is that it takes a while. It’ll be all healed up in about an hour or so.”

“ An hour?” Uvogin, who has abandoned his afro and traded it for long standing hair. “Feitan, I thought you said she was good? We could’ve gone to that one guy and got it done right then and there.”

“She’s the best. Wait.” His hands are in his pockets and he moves. Feitan looks around and touches whatever he pleases. You try not to focus on his compliment. You wonder if the reason he moved from your line of sight is because he got embarrassed. If so, you won’t tease him. The Troupe are killers, afterall. 

   You start to feel the weight of your nen. This technique requires more effort than the others. Feitan explained it to you but you never did get the hang of it. You just know what to do instinctively. You were proud that you could do any of this without a teacher.

 What you’re sure of is that this man, whatever his name is, is giving you a crap ton of money after this or there’ll be hell to pay. 

   You feel something tickling the side of your face. The wrapper is red and unopened. You take the energy bard gratefully. “Thank you, Feitan.”

A couple of the Troupe members complain about the time. Machi or Mochi or whatever, the pink haired one, especially complains and criticizes for some reason. You have never seen this person before in your life yet here she is pouting. 

  “You okay?” You see the blond boy with big blue eyes study you closely. He moves closer to your face. A smile never leaves his face. Before you can answer, Feitan, who hasn’t left your side since you ate the bar, answers for you. 

“She’s fine. I’m watching her.”

You hear a couple of snickers. Feitan glares daggers at the offenders. You take a deep breath and ignore the friends who decided to crowd inside your hut. The boy with the forehead tattoo lies peacefully. Although you are running out of steam, his wound is healing nicely. One of the women, you believe it’s Pakunoda, comes to you and bends down. 

“Can I get you anything?” You discover that your throat is absolutely parched. “Some water, please.”

  If you remember correctly, the last you saw of her was when her head was shaved and some outsider kid did it. She had always kept it short. And now, it’s on her shoulders and very sleek. Over the years she’s drastically changed.

  You drink the water, which to your surprise, is clean. “Hey, how did this happen anyway?”

  “Don’t ask questions.” Feitan quickly shuts you down. Before you can ask anything more, you notice the entire group of friends are quiet. 

  “It’s nothing for you to worry about, okay?” You nod at the blonde boy with blue eyes and a permanent smile. Completing the hour, the tattoo guy is up. He’s immediately impressed. “My name’s Chrollo Lucilfer. Yours?” He puts out his hand for you to shake. 

  “Yeah, the book collector-theater nerd-kid, right? My name’s-” Before you can even answer, Feitan does it for you. 

  He gives your name and how your Nen works. He’s quick with it, too. You side eye Feitan for a second. “Thanks, Feitan. I, uh, really needed a spokesperson.”

“Ah, I guess it can’t be helped then, Feitan?” There’s tension in the air. It’s thick and heavy. By the looks of it, neither one is backing down. “Um, it’s not a big deal that he answered for me, you do know that, right?”

  Seconds pass through this. You look around for anyone to intervene with this. Whatever the hell is going on, it’s deep. “Since Fei explained it, why not have her join?”

“Positions are filled.” Chrollo still stares directly into Feitan’s eyes. Phinks nervously chuckles, once again trying to defuse the situation. “Fei, come on. No fighting. Right boss?”

  Suddenly, it’s lifted. Chrollo has what looks like a practiced smile on his face. “That’s true. That’s a rule.”

  Chrollo takes a glance at you. “She obviously means a lot to you. Clearly, she’s an asset, too.”

  “I’m right here, jackass.” Feitan smacks you on the head. “I’ll handle her.” 

  The others sigh in relief. Momentarily, you’re a little offended. “It was nice meeting you.”

They exit your hut right after, leaving Feitan behind. “So. those were your friends, huh?”

“Watch tongue.” You smack your lips and roll your eyes. There is blood on the floor and on the table. The furniture is in disarray due to all of his friends having no home training.  “I haven’t seen you in forever and this is how you greet me?”

 He frowns. “I say hello all the time.” You turn to him. “When? I didn’t see you.”

Feitan huffs and kicks the ground lightly. You get up to move the furniture back to place. Your movements are slow and everything seems so much heavier. Everything is swirling right before your eyes. Your head hurts and yet feels so light. Before you meet the ground, Feitan takes you to the couch and lays you down. 

  “I haven’t seen you in so long, little boy…” Those were the last words you say before you drift to sleep. 

Hours later, you wake up at the sound of birds. There is a beautiful blue blanket on you with golden yellow designs. It’s thick and so warm you could stay forever. You’ve never owned anything like this. 

  Slowly you get up and search for Feitan. He’s nowhere to be found much to your dismay. Last night’s conversation still stays with you. He insisted that he says hello all the time. That he sees you regularly, yet, you haven’t seen him at all. 

  The blanket, the wind chime, the medical supplies, the various decorations with stones, paint and if you weren’t smart, you’d say gold. Could Feitan have been the one to give you gifts? Silently watching over you and in his own way, saying hello? You have felt like you were being watched for years. 

____________

  “Do you understand why I didn’t welcome you?”

“No, and I never will. Now please, leave me alone.” You feel convicted by turning a man of God away, but can he truly be one when he left a child to suffer? You were in the cold, wind, and rain, alone in one of the worst parts of the city. All you had was Feitan, and he was there once in a blue moon. After the rejection from the church, you took it upon yourself to care for others as no one had ever cared for you. Although hurt and afraid, you chose not to spread that toxicity. You decided that no matter the size of change, it still works. 

 However, you will not fall prey to the same people. For instance, that girl you saved and this priest. How can he expect your services with no repentance or atonement? You forgive, but like hell will you forget. 

Damn…you were so sure you were over the pain of your past. That the change you made within yourself and how you treat people so no one else suffers like you, would stick. Alas, all it takes is one person to bring it down. You want to kick yourself because of the regression. Then again, the hostility isn’t your fault.

You walk into the hallway with small statues, stone walls, and large windows. The sun shines brightly through them, making the church seem prettier than it is.

“Please-”

“She said no.” Feitan stands with his hands in his pockets, the sun shining on his pale skin. It has been a few months since the incident with Chrollo. You haven’t seen any of them but have felt eyes on you, which you have deduced was Feitan. However, you learned the truth of the blanket. The name stitched on it belonged to an old clan, the Kurta, that was mutilated, tortured, and murdered by the Phantom Troupe. It disgusts you. The blanket is comfortable but still. 

Feitan, the boy who you taught to tie his shoes, gave you a trophy of his crime. You wanted to burn it, or bury it in the memory of the Kurta, yet you couldn’t. It’s a gift from the one consistent person in your life. Your protector and giver. So, you folded it and put it in a box. 

   Now, here he is like he’s done nothing wrong. Defending you and putting the man that’s been with the city for ages in his place. You’re shocked at his behavior. 

  “Feitan, surely you must understand!” 

“Shut up.” Father Rizole took a step back in surprise. Feitan was one of his regulars, if you remember correctly. This must be a surprise for the aging priest. 

You hum at the scene. Even though the rumors of what the Troupe has done bothers you, it doesn’t mean you aren’t opposed to the benefits. The priest backs up and sighs. 

“If you ever reconsider, please, let me know. We could use your help.”

“I could’ve used it too.” You end the conversation there and leave. Feitan soon follows you. He’s silent on his feet and very fast. Feitan was behind you but his quick feet caught up in less than a second. Now, he walks right at your side. 

“So, you just decide when you want to see me?” 

Feitan shrugs. “I don’t know.” 

Sighing, you turn to him and ask, “What do you need this time?” The lower half of his face is hiding under a plain cowl now. His eyes show all of the emotion needed. “I just hang out.”

  The sun is too hot for this nonsense. Sweat trickles down your face and back, becoming sticky. “So that’s why you’re here, right? I’m shocked.”

Before he can say your name, you continue. “Oh! And let's not forget the little massacre that took place, huh? Yeah, being used to heal your friend from that was really fun.”

“I didn’t.”

 You roll your eyes. “No, just that one guy. That’s who to you, again?”

“Boss.” You scoff at his short answer. Then, you think about the possibility. “Your boss? Then…doing that to the Kurta, wasn’t your idea, was it?”

“No, not mine.” His hands remain in his pockets. His hair blows in the wind slightly. You realize he hasn’t gotten a haircut in a while. 

“If you could, you know, go back in time…would you still do it?”

“Yes.” No hesitation, no thought put into the answer. Just a plain as day answer and a tone that leaves no room for an explanation. 

“So whatever he wants he just gets? As long as it aligns with your twisted mind, right?”

  His eyes grow darker. “I save you.”

You point to the church. “No, no you didn’t. That guy wasn’t going to do anything to me. I had it handled.”

Shaking your head, you go to leave until a hand wraps around your wrist. “Boss takes nen. I didn’t let him.”

  Was that what that was? That tension that day that was suffocating? Remembering that day, you start to form pieces. “Would he hurt you if you didn’t go along with his schemes?”

“No.” 

Well there goes that idea. “Nevermind.”

You try to yank your wrist from his grip, but it’s iron tight. “Let me go!”

“I protect you, always. Bad people here, everywhere. I get dirty for you.” His face is indifferent but his words give it away. The plea for you to understand and realize, dare you say, his devotion to his friends. Does this include you?

Is that what it is? What friendship, this connection is? You are aware of the deeds the Troupe do. You understand why they thought it would be a good idea (somewhat anyway). 

“Thank you, then.” He lets go of your wrist which was grabbed painfully tight. He trades that in for holding your hand instead. You are shocked at first, but if you make it a big deal, he’ll stop. You don’t want him to right now. 

  Not when you feel safe. You still want to kick yourself… and maybe throw in a punch.

_____

Apparently, the Troupe have gone their separate ways for now. They don’t cling onto each other for a long period of time after a job. It’s better that way since it has a lesser chance of them getting caught. They still hang out from time to time, though. 

For you, you managed to get out of Meteor City after the argument with the priest. Feitan had gone to do another heist with Phinks, if you remember right. You took that moment to skip town. You never wanted to stay in the trash, anyway. 

  And you were right to! Everything you thought of as a child about the world outside was true! Sure, people can be rude and things can be corrupt, but you’re fed and resting. There are bright lights and kind people. It can be clean and the soap smells so good. Just the other day you got to experience a nail salon. Rather than stealing from you, the lady next to you, Jade, talked about her family. Her daughter is Ruby and her wife is Scarlet. Jade and Scarlet want another child. You offered the name Emerald. 

  In Meteor City, you would’ve had to fight. Now, you are making friends and offering beautiful names. It’s a stark contrast that is fully welcomed. 

  The sun is bright and the moon is sometimes round. It doesn’t always attract evil and can sometimes sing such a beautiful melody. There are pearls and diamonds. There are seasonings that make the food taste unbelievably good. It’s all expensive, but infinitely better than Meteor. 

And Nen is a secret here. In the city, many knew about it and used it without discretion. Here it’s different. Like a secret identity for a hero. Your nen in particular isn’t used as much as it was before. Your ability was so tiring. Pretty and incredibly useful, but exhausting nonetheless. 

  It has been a few years since you saw him, but he’s seen you. He found you quickly, too. When you came home from your office job (which you are still ecstatic about, by the way) you noticed a new painting in your house. It was dull and in black and white. The painting is of a few plants that take the center stage. Actually, they’re your nen plants. In the background is what looks like your old city. Piles of rubbish and polluted air in black swirls. There are clouds above and a dark sun barely poking out. 

  It’s sad. Beautiful, but sad. You have wondered what he meant by it. You open the door to your apartment. It’s not much and one day you want to get a house. 

  The keys make a jingle when you set them on the countertop. The apartment is still dark, so you scramble to flip the switch. “Why you leave?”

You scream at the top of your lungs. Standing there nonchalantly is Feitan, who you haven’t had contact with in a hot minute. His hair is even longer than before. He wears a new cowl that has a skull on it over his face. His trench coat looks a little too big for him but he wears it well anyway. 

  “Uh, because I live here? What are you doing here?” You set your bag down and take off your short heels. Although he’s a murderer, you still feel safe with him. 

 He takes slow strides towards you. “ Why? I looked for you and you weren’t there.”

“You knew where I was. I got your presents,” You point to the painting. He hides his face a little in the fabric. “I like it by the way. Did you do it?”

“Shut up.” You sigh and walk into your kitchen. “I’ll make you something to eat.”

 You begin to wash the rice. Your eyes switch from looking down to taking obvious glances at him. Right about now, he should be in his mid twenties. It’s amazing how long you’ve known each other. You remember him as that kid who didn’t know how to tie his shoes and him teaching you about Nen. Time flies so fast when you least expect it. 

  You crack the eggs and whisk them. The sound of the utensil against the bowl and the sizzle of the tomatoes in the pan is all that is heard. Feitan doesn’t make one sound. He opts to stare at you working and even has a glint in his eye which you think could be satisfaction. 

  “Do you still like this, by the way? I remember you snatching it.” You try not to smile at the memory. 

 “I do.” He hovers in your kitchen, just waiting, watching you do all of the work. Stingy bastard. After adding the seasonings, you could have never gotten in Meteor City, you fix him a plate. He happily accepts it and sits down on the floor. 

“I have a tab-” Oh, the memory. Allowing yourself to smile, you sit with him and eat off of his plate. “We’re sharing. ”

 He gives a slight growl but doesn’t do anything. “So, what brings you by?”

“I say hello.” You hum with a mouth full of food. “Well, hello to you too, little boy.”

He gives you a light kick. The two of you finish the plate. Both full, you just lay back and talk. 

“How long are you staying?” 

“Not long.” You’ll miss him. “Running from the cops again?”

“Need to hide out for a bit.” You nod, accepting his answer and that your connection will probably always be sweet moments. “It’s nice to have you here, even only for a moment.”

  Feitan taps you again with his foot. “I’m always here. I say hello all the time.” You know and are fully aware of what he means. His odd little gifts decorate your house. To bones, to rugs, even a china set he stole. It’s routine for him to give you something, even when you don’t see him. 

“Even though you run.” He kicks you again. The more you watch him, the more your chest tightens. He’s the only consistent thing in your life. Everything is fleeting. Your job is new as well as your relationship with your coworkers. But there is a line with them. Feitan is different.

  “How long are we going to do this dance?”

“I don’t dance.” You roll your eyes and laugh. “I mean you coming by once in a blue moon.” 

  He shrugs. “I don’t know.” You nod. “Figures.”

He frowns. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean, that this whole thing is tiring. You come and go like some kind of feral cat.”

  “So?”

You sputter, “ So I don’t appreciate it.” He takes off his long coat and reveals his chest, next goes his shoes. “I sleep here.”

“You can’t use me!” He gets up and goes in the direction of your room. “Feitan!” You pick up his clothes and set them aside. “Do you hear me? I wasn’t done talking!”

  On your bed is a sprawled out Feitan. He looks at you with squinted eyes. “Shut up, I’m trying to sleep.”

  Like always, he makes himself at home. You sigh, giving up on trying to talk to him. “Move over.” 

  He scoffs and reluctantly moves out of your way. You feel him tense up as you lay down. “This is my bed. I can sleep here.”

  You face each other as you lay down. Neither of you say anything about how close you are. This is probably the closest you’ve ever been since you helped him tie his shoes the second time. You feel his eyes on you, making you nervous. “Stop staring at me.”

  “Never sleep with someone in a while.” You know. The last time was with you, no doubt. At the time, you didn't think about it, if you remember correctly. It's hard to tell since it's been so long. 

“The couch is that way.” He smacks his lips. “No, you go.” You open your eyes. 

“Like I said, this is my bed.” Feitan doesn’t say anything about your ownership. Instead, he’s honest with you. “I’m tired.”

  Instantly, you start to feel a little bad. In the city, no child was ever able to fully sleep. It was too dangerous, especially in the more dangerous districts. Him being honest about his state, you take it as a step. 

  “If you want to, I’ll be on the lookout.” His hands are next to yours. You grab them, just like he did those few years ago. “You can sleep now, Feitan.” 

  You don’t know when, don’t know how either, but you two do end up sleeping. His eyes are closed and his breath even. Your eyes flutter open and see that he’s got slight dark under eyes and his mouth leaking drool. Feitan looks peaceful, sleepy, like he hasn’t done this in a while. 

  The next morning, he’s gone with no evidence he was even there.

_________________

  You watch on the tv screen above the bank about the attack on York New, a city not too far from you. The attack happened a few days ago but it’s still in the headlines. You don’t blame them, to be honest. It was an insane event that over two thousand people died! 

  You cling onto your boyfriend’s arm. He touches your hand reassuringly. His watch gleams in the moonlight and his suit is perfectly pressed. He's the entire package, he’s perfect. A good job, good manners, an honest man, and treats you well, too. He always holds the chair out for you and gets up when you leave the room. Just like a true gentleman. 

  When you first met, it was a classic coffee shop romance. Then it blossomed into a romantic and expensive dinner, the movies, a nighttime walk in the park, all of the classic dates. In every single one of them he was the perfect gentleman, the perfect man. You like him and how he treats you. How consistent he is. He's the type of man you can rely on. 

  Nevertheless, there is a bothersome voice in the back of your head that reminds you of someone he just isn’t. He’s not Feitan Portor. You don’t feel the contentment Feitan gives when the two of you sleep. You don’t study your boyfriend’s features like you did Feitan.

Dammit, why are you thinking of him? He’s not around and you haven’t seen him in what? Two or three years? So why think of him now. Plus, you haven’t received a gift or a ‘hello’ from him. For all you know, he could be dead.

  “Are you alright?” You wake from your thoughts and look at your boyfriend. His hair is dark, blending in with the night. Eyes kind and green, a Grecian nose, and average sized lips revealing a dazzling smile. Not only is the very essence of him suave, but his looks are also perfect. Tall and handsome, well dressed and a smooth voice. 

It's just that one five foot one pest that won’t get out of your head. 

  “Y-yeah just…it’s all so shocking. York New is literally over there.” You point past the river where more tall buildings reside in the distance.

“I know, I know.” He brings you in close to him. He places a kiss on your head. “Don’t worry, nothing will happen to you.” 

Suddenly, the newscaster stops mid sentence and gasps. Before you know it, the Phantom Troupe have been named the offenders that caused all of this. Two thousand people. Feitan, did you really kill that many people?

“I would like to go home. I don’t feel the greatest.” He rubs your arm, you still being tucked into his side. Your excuse was a lie to cover the gnawing feeling towards Feitan and his deeds. Although the Phantom Troupe’s original intentions were from a decent stand point, it seems they’ve lost their way. Feitan has lost his way. 

  The gifts have stopped coming, him no longer saying hello. After the last time, when you made him familiar food and sat in a comfortable silence, he disappeared. This time, there was something about it that hurt. Like he didn’t want to come around. He didn’t want to say hello anymore. Or perhaps, he died which if confirmed, you would ache beyond help. 

  “The Phantom Troupe is dead.” The newscaster said. The crowd gasped, shocked that the most feared criminals in the world are gone. Did you jinx it? Curse the little boy who needed you to tie his shoes. The boy who liked your cooking and made sure you rested. Had strong faith in you, never doubting. Protected you from the shadows and held your hand. 

  Is he really gone? 

You hide your face in your boyfriend’s jacket. Tears stream from your eyes at the thought of his grave. With the Troupe, his friends dead, you’d be the only one to truly mourn him. To remember his name beyond his violence. 

You clutch your chest. “Are you okay? Does your chest hurt?” He grabs you by your shoulders, making you face him. He’s such a kind, decent man. But he’s not Feitan Portor. 

  “I just need to rest. I’ll call you tomorrow.” You give him a chaste kiss goodbye. Once he leaves, your chest hurts even more. You slide down as you look around at all the menace’s little gifts. The painting, the skull, the windchimes, everything he’s given you. Why, oh why, couldn’t you stay here long enough for your gift, Feitan?

Wait, what could you have given him anyway? He’s a thief that takes what he pleases and has nothing to wish for. 

You lay on your couch and put your arm over your face. The tears refuse to stop for even just a second. You don’t know what you’re crying harder for. Feitan or the confusing feelings for him. Now that he’s gone, you can’t properly tell him. How can you explain it? 

  It’s heavy on your chest and tightens it. You want to feel his body heat no matter how hot the day is. There are no small flutters in your stomach at the thought of him. No, it's something in your heart. You want to stare at him, to memorize every feature he has. To hear his soft voice that is just a centimeter away from a whisper. Just melt in his touch, his presence. Wait, why is this happening? You barely knew him! Does that fact even matter though?

 You slip your hand in your underwear, still staring at the ceiling, sniffling at the news of his death. You imagine the future. Seeing him walk into your house and setting his belongings on the table. Wrapping his arms around you and kissing your back. No matter how long you’ve known him, his stature never fails to amuse you. He’d paw at your body, tearing off your clothes. Feitan wouldn’t hesitate to use his hands for your pleasure. 

  You trace your fingers in the direction you think he’d go. Curling your fingers inside, thrusting them in harshly, knowing that he can only be gentle in his own way. Your back arches from the couch. You swear you can smell him and the faint metallic scent that he holds. The feeling of his ragged breath on your cheek you could swear is real. 

  You moan as you take that jump you’ve searched for. Thinking of how good Feitan would make you feel. You're relentless on yourself, still going as strong as he’d be. Adding another finger, going faster and faster on your clit. Your moaning gets louder as the indiscernible amount of time goes on. 

‘ The Phantom Troupe is dead.’

You crash on the couch with one last gasp. The dream of the two of you ends in flames. The house, the passion, the years that go by in that home. Maybe even a child or two. Seeing him in the morning with a groggy voice is gone. Rubbing his eyes and saying he wants more eggs and tomatoes is no longer there.

  What would your gift be to Feitan? Memories? Sex? Food? Nothing fits. He can have those with anyone. 

  You slip yourself out from your underwear. It didn’t distract you. Perhaps if you thought of your boyfriend, it would have. But the feelings you have towards Feitan went beyond physical. What is this? What do you call this?

  Love? Time stops at the realization. It has to be that. That would have been your gift to him. Love. You cover your mouth as you admit it to yourself. 

'I love you Feitan Portor. I won’t forget you. I love your messed up hair and soft voice. For how you didn’t reject me when the world did. I will do the same for you. I’ll look past your torturous ways and miss you anyway. Maybe the world will curse you, but I’ll mourn you. Bury you so no one can spit on you anymore. I love you Feitan. 

   I’m in love with you Feitan Portor. This is my gift to you. For you to know that you will not be forgotten even though I never got to tell you, to thank you for everything. For leaving the baseball bat with me to protect myself. For painting that picture for me. All of the little gifts you thought I’d like, too. Thank you for protecting me from the priest and the wolves that hunted me every day when we were young.'

You stare at the ceiling till the earliest of mornings. It’s still dark, still heavy with the night sky. There’s some rumbling in the distance, a flash of light in the sky. You don’t bother to confirm anything. 

Just as you close your eyes, the window opens with a creak. You move your eyes to see the figure before you. The darkness covers it, only leaving the silhouette. “Why cry?”

You squint, trying to make out the features.  “Are you real?”

“Very.” It must be a lie. A cruel humor the world has. “Stop crying.” 

“I can’t. Not when you sound like him.” The figure cocks his head, that much you can see with the flash of lightning behind him. “Him?”

“Someone who can’t tie his shoes.” Your lip wobbles again. “I can tie them now.” The moon glows enough to show his face now as he steps up to you. Feitan’s delicate features peek out from his cowl. 

 You shake your head in denial. “It’s not real. It can’t be. You’re dead, Fei.” Your voice is hoarse from your sobs. 

  He looks shocked at your words. The man who looks like Feitan smacks your feet off the end of the couch so he can sit. 

“I’ll miss you Feitan Portor.” The longer you stare at the imaginary man, the more you hurt. “Well, stop.”

  He roughly wipes away the tears. “Ugly when you cry.” His face is close to yours. Since he’ll be gone by the time you come to your senses, you grab his face and kiss him. He sharply inhales, not expecting your sudden decision. 

  He growls against your lips, “Stupid brat.” 

  He feels real. He smells real, familiar too. You tell him such and with furrowed brows and a strong grip of his hand, he grabs your jaw and makes you look at him. “I’m real, you idiot.”

“They said you died…” You comb his hair through your fingers. It’s real, he's real . So, what’s going on? Before you can ask him, he cradles you. “Stop crying or I’ll go.”

  Your lips wobble at his threat. Rather than listening to it, you hug him. He nestles on top of you, hips placed between yours. He’s light, lighter than you thought so it isn’t a bother.

  “You’re so ugly when you cry. Don’t cry.” He holds you closer and kisses your head. Against your ear, you feel his lips move. You can’t tell what he’s mouthing. When the two of you comfortably slept those years ago, that was the closest you’ve been. Now, this beats that record. Face to face, body to body, and sharing breaths. 

  After a few moments of thunder and lightning, he kisses you gently. Not at all like the desperate one like before. Realistically, you know these feelings you have for him seem fake. You’ve only had a few moments with him. So, why are they so significant? Are they with him too? Is it possible that love can blossom quickly?

  Gentle kisses turn passionate, never wanting to separate. Little nibbles on the right places and sucks on all of the best ones. Clothes leave, not wanting to get between the two friends, those who dance around each other. For the first time, they meet. 

His hands reach your throat as he kisses you, making sure to give it a light squeeze. His weight is still on you, not hurting in the slightest. Feitan makes sure his hand reaches below and swirls his thumb on your bud. You gasp, surprised you were right about how he’d do it. Every ministration he does is exactly how it was pictured. Your hands don’t compare to it. Not by a long shot. 

  Despite his size, his hands are still bigger than yours. They reach deeper than you and are thicker too. In no time, you come, the bliss lasting a good minute before he sheathes himself inside. His thickness is more than you thought. It’s a bit of a stretch, but in a good way. 

  His gasps quicken with every thrust. You can tell that you're being loud, way louder than when you touched yourself. Feeling the rush and strength of his movements has you claw his back in ecstasy. He groans at the sensation. Finally, after this time of passion and intimacy, you both hold each other as you fall off of that cliff.

  Feitan looks into your eyes. With a softness that no one in the world could’ve predicted the torturer of the Phantom Troupe to have, kisses you. “Don’t cry anymore. Don’t cry.”

 “It’s hard not to when I know you’ll leave.” Silently, Feitan removes himself from inside you. It’s become routine, so you expect him to walk out. He lays back down, his head on your stomach. You run your fingers through his hair. He needs a haircut. 

--

 You wake up, not realizing that you went asleep in the first place. Before you can get up, you feel pressure on your stomach. Feitan rests on you still, eyes completely closed and his face peaceful. The two of you are naked and the only source of heat is each other. As much as you want to wrap your arms around him, you know he’ll react negatively or at least flinch. 

  Soon after, he stretches and rubs his face against your stomach. Like before, he drooled in his sleep. “Good morning.” 

He grunts in response and sits up on his heels. It takes him a moment to remember the night before. His eyes widen as he looks you up and down, making you highly aware of your current state. You cover yourself with a blanket draped over the couch. 

  “I have to go.” Ah, right. He’s a cat. 

He gets dressed. Once he has his boots on, you see him tie them the way you taught him. “Proud of you. You finally learned huh?”

 “Brat.” You laugh a little at him. Once he’s done you ask, “Will I ever see you again?"

He cradles your face. “I come back.” You nod, holding back tears. He studies your face and settles on your eyes. He must have realized that you were trying not to cry. His hands still remain on your face as he kisses you. He lingers there for a minute. A parting kiss, a meaningful one. 

  Something tells you that this feral cat isn’t going away anytime soon. That he’ll always be constant and you won’t be totally alone. A companion you won’t see everyday and only for a night. 

 This is the gift you’ll give him. You’ll be home for him. 

___________________

Months later, news about the Chimera Ants came out. You had already broken up with your boyfriend and heard he had left town to avoid them. Of course, you followed suit and got the hell out of there. 

  Without any plan, you moved back to Meteor City, where you thought that they wouldn’t be. Alas, that was stupid. You made a home base in the residential area. Not knowing that Meteor City was plagued by the wretched beasts. 

  By God’s grace, you managed to avoid them due to you being in the residential district. News that the Phantom Troupe were home to fight them ran rampant. The thought of Feitan made you nervous and you don’t know why. 

  Suddenly, right as you put away your dishes, the door opened. You grabbed a knife and faced the intruder. Standing there was the Phantom Troupe, who once again, barged into your home like they owned the place. 

  “What the hell?” You shout. The first one is Phinks with a wide smile. “There she is! Fei, I found her!”

  You put your hand on your hip. “Seriously, what are you doing her-you’re dragging in mud, take off your shoes!”

 “It’s only a little.” Phinks pouts. “I don’t care! You don’t live here.” 

Phinks and his friends grumble as they do as they’re told. The last one to enter the house is Feitan, who is notably holding his left arm. Without being told, he removes his shoes. 

  “Feitan…” He hasn’t faced you yet. “What happened to your arm?” 

“I’m injured too, (Y/n)!” The smiling boy with round eyes whines. You have no idea what his name is. Only that he and the rest are in Feitan’s gang. 

  “Alright, let me see.” He lays down on your clean table and says, “It’s all over. I need the full treatment!” 

  “Ugh, fine.” You grumble under your breath about the disrespect and your poor table. Finally, Feitan sits on one of the pushed aside chairs. He says, “I need it too.”

  “Big babies.” 

You heal the biggest cry baby completely. The blond, whose name you now know as Shalnark, stretches. “If it weren’t for you, I would’ve been hurting all day!”

  Rolling your eyes, you turn to Feitan who has been silent. He holds out his arm for you. You take the limb and inspect it. 

 “Completely shattered.” He grunts in agreement. He stares into your eyes and gives you a familiar slight smile. You notice that his friends are quiet, not a sound or word among them. 

“You guys alright?” You ask. The girl shakes her head yes and ‘whispers’ to the rest. “Should we leave them alone?”

  “Probably.” A mummy with boxing gloves answers. You’ve never seen him before in your life. 

“Uh, we’ll check the place out. Y’know, make sure it’s safe.” Shalnark shoos the little kid out and into a separate room, your bedroom. “We’ll clear this out in case you guys need it!”

  You huff and roll your eyes. Feitan’s cheeks are red and he’s glaring daggers at his friends. The girl goes outside with the remaining three to check the area. You and your feral cat are alone. 

“What are they checking for? I’m in a residential area.” 

“Ants.” 

  “They’re here? In the safe zone?” You begin to panic until he grabs your hand. “You’re safe now. They’re not in the city anymore.”

“Wha-how? What’s going on?”

  He pinches you lightly, encouraging you to heal his wounds. “Oh, right, right.” Flowers of all colors circle around. They begin to smooth over Feitan’s wounds. You take a second to wipe the blood off of his lip, letting there be some room for the petals to go. 

“How’s the other guy look?”

“She's toasted.” You smile. “Atta boy.”

  He’s healed, the petals and flowers disappear. You lick your lips at the sight of his bare chest. You didn’t notice before due to the audacity of these heathens barging in. 

  His heart rate quickens. “You leave again.”

You nod. “Yeah, yeah I did. I had to, Fei. the Chimera Ants invaded. I had to run.”

“With your boyfriend?”

You let out a small gasp. “ No. How do you know that?” He crosses his arms and leans back in the chair. “You lie.”

“I didn’t lie to you. I just never said anything.”

  “Words of a liar.” You scoff at him. “I did not lie to you. I lied to him. You don’t have any business with our relationship.”

At first, he was looking at his lap. Those grey eyes of his immediately found a new target to glare at. “You’re not with him anymore. ”

“No. Why does that matter?” He begins to tap his foot lightly. “Why did you break up?” 

  “You hungry?” You start to get up until you’re tugged down. “Why?”

When you don’t answer, he whispers in your ear. “Because I fucked you?” Your face is so warm. 

“If we run, we can still make it out.”

“Why are we running?” A small voice asks.

“Because I think they need the room.” 

“Will you two shut up?!” You are two seconds away from running out of your own damn house. You stand and his hands hold you by your hips. “Tell me why you leave him?”

  “Because of you.” It’s embarrassing to tell him your feelings. Hopefully, he can read your mind or something and shut up. He sighs and stands, walking over to you without a hitch. He kisses you. 

  “That’s what you get for lying.” He’s not remorseful or even boastful. Feitan takes your answer in stride. “No more leaving. Stay so I can find you.”

“You’ll always find me, remember?”

______________

Time after that, you were stuck in charge of Chrollo’s lover or something. She’s not too bad but clearly traumatized. Anytime you’d tell her to go with you, she’d look shocked. Like she was surprised she could leave. You were suspicious of her relationship with Chrollo. Something didn’t sit right with you whenever he or Feitan came up. She’d tense up. She never talked about it either. From what you understand with the little information you have, is that she was a former member that raised an orphan and that Chrollo loved her immensely. Perhaps too much.

  From what you know, there was a big showdown on the Dark Continent and the boat that was taking a voyage to the fake one. The Phantom Troupe were on that one at first, fighting Hisoka Marrow. He was a sore loser that got humbled and decided to attack again. 

  Amazingly, only a few died. You didn’t want to know the details or anything. You can’t go through that again. So, after that news, you and Chrollo’s lover parted ways. She went on to find a kid she raised. You, on the other hand, decided to settle out of Meteor City. This was almost a year ago.

  You have an apartment now in the town where you and your boyfriend lived, right next to York New. It’s basic, not fitting any aesthetic or anything. The good thing about it is that it’s bigger than your first one. It’s two bedroom and has a good price. 

   Feitan hasn’t reappeared. It tore you to shreds. You’ve managed to piece yourself together bit by bit, but you are a hollow version of yourself. Surviving and not enjoying the little things you used to. You even saw Jade, Scarlet, Ruby, and the new child, Emerald. Even that heartwarming moment didn’t fulfill you. However, it was the first time you smiled in a while. 

  You stir the food in the pot. Since it’s a little chilly, you made soup. You put the lid over the pot, letting it cook. There’s a knock on the door. You open it and see the man you’ve waited for. 

  Feitan is in dark clothing and has a large scar on his face. There’s no cowl over him, or a large trench coat. His hands are in his pockets, and he looks at you expectantly. You realize that you’ve just been standing there, you move to let him in. Once again, he makes himself at home. 

  “How’ve you been?” 

“You leave again.” He states bluntly. His eyebrows are furrowed and has a frown on his face. 

“Bold of you, very bold.” You move around him. “Why did you go?”

“Because I’d never stay in that city forever. The Ants were gone, the world settled. So why couldn’t I? That place is gross anyway.”

  He sits on the barstool and cracks his neck. You ask a question right after he sits. “How long you here for?”

You don’t know why you asked that. He’ll only be here for a moment. A while ago, you had made the decision to accept it as your gift to him. To love and mourn him when the world won’t. When news about the Phantom Troupe hit, you couldn’t bear to hear it. Their trip to the fake Dark Continent, then their corrected course to the right one, ended in a battle with them facing Hisoka and Illumi and everything else over there. 

  It was too hard for you to think about. That doesn’t mean you didn’t mourn and that you’ve snapped out of it.

   “For good.” 

You look up into his eyes. For the first time in a long time, he’s smiling with soft eyes. You see that he has a dimple on his left cheek. “W-what about-”

“Done for a while. Maybe forever. I know I’m staying.”

   “But your friends, where are they?” He shrugs even though you see the tension. “Separate. We split for a bit.” 

  He rubs his shoulders nervously. “Can I stay with you?” 

“Wow, you’re asking? Shocked.” You tap on the counter. The weight you’ve been carrying is lightened. “Feitan?”

“Yes?” He gets off of the stool and makes his way around the counter. “You know how you give me all those gifts?”

  He nods his head. “Well, this is my gift to you, Feitan Portor. You can stay as long as you like.” 

  He wraps his arms around you. He’s hugging you. This time, you aren’t afraid to hold him back and squeeze. Maybe, just maybe, this is what home is? 

  If the Phantom Troupe resurrects, at least you know he’ll always come home. That you two will be a constant force for each other. No matter if it does or doesn't, you two aren't dancing but admitting things you couldn't. This is home, a gift for each other.  

#feitan portor #feitan x reader #feitan porter x reader #hxh #hxh fanfic #slight yandere #q #phantom troupe #hunter x hunter #hxh feitan #idk what to put here rn

[unoriginal-and-dumb]

heello do you have any tips for noobie artists? ur art is just so very neat to me :) plz never stop arting

Never do what I do unless it is drawing all the time

Use references!! Always use them!!! Seriously please use references never let a stupid little rat in your ear take that away from you, they are always so valuable

If you see art you like, don’t be afraid to basically try recreating the same exact thing. All you have to do is not claim it as youre own, and better yet don’t post it online! It’s for practice, people don’t need to see practice in the end it’s only for you

Tracing is NOT wrong. I’m tired of people saying ohhh tracing is bad don’t do it ITS LITERALLY NOT!!!! Just don’t trace over someone else’s work/images and claim it as your own it’s that easy. If youre struggling with hands take photos of your hands and trace over it! Break them down into simple forms until you have an understanding of them in a meaningful way!

Do some studies of specific things. Struggling with leg anatomy? Draw a page full of legs, just push and pull and scribble and see what works, study images and see how you can reproduce it or stylize it

Never feel like you need to find your own art style immediately, that task is practically impossible. Everything comes from something, be inspired by others take little art bits from styles you like and only then can you create your own style!! (I mean dawg my style can be broken down into adventure time, owl house, invader zim, gooseworx, eddsworld, sr pelo, a few others im probably forgetting)

Don’t worry about broadcasting your work, not everyone needs to know all that you draw, the internet can be a hateful place and it really does suck a lot but also try not to rely on strangers online for support on everything you do, I know it is hard and that approval feel good I cannot deny it but remember to keep some stuff for yourself, a little treat where nobody can criticize you :)

Try to draw everyday! Or having a sketchbook where you make it a goal to completely fill 2 pages a week, and if that’s too much then just some doodles! Art takes a lot of constant practice, and there’s really nothing more fun than just having a little sketchbook with you where you draw random stuff all the time. When I was doing that I would make 2 page mini invader zim comics

I feel like a bit of a hypocrite because I do maybe 1 of these things but i know they are really good, I have done them before and they were super helpful! But in the end I think the best you could do is just keep at it! Don’t let people get you down, do your own thing, break rules if you want, it’s all art and art is AWESOME!!!!!!!

[chekovbeforeyouwrekovyourself]

So I’m like 3 episodes into fhjy and can I just talk about Kristen? I gotta talk about Kristen.

I think that Ally Beardsley is just one of the fucking greats, man. Not like in a technical proficiency kind of way, but in playing a character so true. I grew up going to Catholic school and then was a little atheist sapphicly inclined teen dipshit, and I just feel such a connection to Kristen Applebees. The sort of teenage invincibility of disconnecting from a toxic family and a religious view that’s been pushed on you since before you could string together a cogent sentence. The way she is with Cassandra and how that reflects in her relationship with Tracker, is a sublime amount of what feels like a fumbling intentionality.

Ally plays Kristen with such nuanced and multifaceted conviction. When you have that type of devotion and it’s running parallel to this sort of self interested (almost selfish) need to figure yourself out and to not be wrong, to not FEEL wrong.

It’s saying sorry (to your god and your girlfriend) when you don’t have any real remorse because you’re not feeling anything. You’re disowned by your parents, you are deeply traumatized by the universe, you just want to understand something for fucking once, without it becoming another wrong choice, another mistake. That conviction that runs as deep as your fear, it’s so wild to feel, so you’re just trying to get through it.

I just see a lot of my teenage self in Kristen. Now I’m a 26 year old non binary dipshit who feels a deep spirituality with no real central focus or authored tenets, I’m estranged from my family in multiple senses, and somewhere, deep inside there’s still that scared teen who just wants to feel like I’m doing the right thing, the good thing for me. I think it’s hard to align the good thing and the things in your best interests sometimes. Especially when you’re so divorced from yourself as a person, y’know?

Anyway, I just think the world of Ally Beardsley and how they play Kristen, and I’m sure as I watch more of Junior Year I’ll have more to say about it all.

#d20 fhjy #kristen applebees #ally beardsley #cassandra fantasy high #tracker o'shaughnessey #also the gender and sexuality and religiousity and Midwest of it all hits so close to home #I will yap about this to anyone who wants to listen #as a former eldest daughter and current some guy they mean the world to me

[keenonkinkley]

The reason I love Tommy’s character is because I see so many peoples journeys in his, from who he was when he was still in the closet and scared to who he is now being open about his sexuality. I love seeing stories of growth especially when the characters are older because it does reflect real life in a lot of ways.

I’ve known that I was bi since I was 14 but I struggled to accept that for a while even though I had told people I was bi (thank you religious trauma) and there were so many times that I was so unkind to myself. I’m turning 24 and it was this year that I finally accepted myself fully, after a decade of wrestling with myself so I love Tommy’s growth and I love Buck’s journey where he’s finding that part of himself a little later in life. These are important stories to tell because they do happen and I could not be happier with the way that Oliver and Lou have brought them to life.

I think that's why I love kinkley so much. Both characters represent very real stories that we don't often see in mainstream media. I, personally, have cried to my friend multiple times about how this storyline makes me feel seen in a way I've never felt before. So seeing how much it positively affects me, and hearing how it positively affects others, I can't understand why people are trying to tear this ship down.

Also, I'm glad you've been able to accept yourself! I know how much of a struggle it can be to accept being queer in any form, but I hope you (and everyone) know that there's nothing wrong with it, despite what so many religions try to tell us.

#buck x tommy #bucktommy #evan buckley #kinkley #tevan #tommy kinard #tuck

[luveline]

I'm sorry to send you such a loaded question, but as a young adult, how do you stay motivated and... I don't know, do the things you have to do? Ever since I left high school, I've felt that it's hard to commit to anything, especially the things I have to commit to in order to have a future, because everything seems so monotonous and uninteresting and stressful to me; because I feel like I'm not capable of doing anything, of being competent.

Anyways, I love your blog. Your writings are one of the few things that make me happy on the worst days xx

that’s okay! I’m gonna try and answer you clearly !! cw for suicide mention

So first I want to say that I’m really sorry you feel this way! It’s quite a heart ache to feel uninspired or uninterested, or worse to feel like you’re not capable of doing things everyone else is doing. You deserve to wake up and feel happy and confident in yourself and your abilities! And I want to say I’m sorry in advance if this is not quite the answer you’re asking me for!

so, when I was around 18/19 (and well beyond those years, but this was when I was very done and defeated and, you know, crying myself sick every night if I wasn’t just laying in bed) I was in university, but I didn’t finish the year at campus, and I had to go home. I’m not sure if this is something I should be saying because it’s so personal but I just want to sort of be honest with you cos I don’t want you to think you’re alone in that feeling. But anyways I had to go home, I was really lonely and I just felt like I couldn’t do what everyone else was doing, like there was something wrong with me. I couldn’t cope with the kitchen, I couldn’t use the bathroom there, I didn’t know how to turn the heating on, couldn’t talk to people, couldn’t navigate the bus by myself, and I felt so pathetically stupid, I had such low self esteem for myself that I felt like I should kill myself just because I was so useless —I didn’t WANT to understand these things. I just didn’t want to do anything. And the reason I’m mentioning it is because while I don’t think it’s okay to assume these things of you, I want to emphasise that there can be a common link between feeling like you aren’t capable and a mental health issue! Of course, you can feel quite useless without that though, so not telling you that that’s definitely what you have going on but more wanting to say that if you think it might be useful, you can have a look at mental health issues and perhaps see if you’re relating to them. But beyond that, hopefully on the way to answering your question, is how I managed to feel more capable and how I now find motivation to do things I have to do.

I sort of had to do a reset, or a sabbatical! I’ve always been an upset person unfortunately, and I had a long few months where I didn’t do anything at all. I’m really, really fortunate that my mother let me stay at home while this was happening however reluctant she was, I can’t imagine really what I would’ve done or what could’ve happened to me if she didn’t let me stay there. I always thought about how she could’ve just turned me out and she probably wanted to, because for months I stayed in bed. I didn’t talk to anybody, deleted all my social media, and I stewed in how much I hated myself for not being any good at anything. I felt soooo stupid and so alone, and I probably cried myself to sleep every night wondering about my life and if I’d ever have the motivation to go on. There are still times now where I am intensely upset and unsure about things and what I’m capable of, but the difference between then and now, and the reason for my motivation I think, was that I was able to foster a need for something? I’m really so sorry if this sounds like total total nonsense, but I needed something. I wanted so badly for someone to “save me” from my not being able to do things, I spent a lot of time thinking about that. Like, how I could be saved. And then I strung out the middle man without realising I was doing it! It is very hard to go from having no motivation and no sense of self ability to then being confident, but I do think you can do it! I needed someone to get me a job and I ended up doing it myself, I needed someone to be gentle with me when I was sad so I started speaking to myself with a more kind inner voice and seeing myself as someone who didn’t need to be perfect to be good.

There was lots of bits of advice I tried to take on. Not all of it is kind to myself, some of it is though!! Like, for example, there’s a sort of parody of it now that says “I think you’re thinking about yourself too much” but one of the ways I stopped hating myself and instead started to believe I could do things and achieve was by thinking about the level of self obsession I was feeling to constantly think of myself. And I promise I’m not trying to say something hurtful to you, I absolutely don’t believe you’re self obsessed, but you’re also not incapable!! In a slightly more annoying take on your feelings, why can’t you do it if everyone else can? You absolutely can! I personally believe sweetheart that you can do everything I can, but you need more support, or you need to be fostered with some love. You are not incapable, you are not incompetent, you are a smart, kind, and important person. There is nobody else like you on the entire planet and I’m better for it that you’re here.

I apologise profusely if I’m projecting too much on you, I’m not trying to say you must feel exactly as I did years ago, but I think your ask really is important and I really want to give you an answer to your question because I know I felt exactly the same at some point. Working toward a future self I didn’t even like or believe in was boring. Nothing in me wanted to work hard or study or continue because I didn’t look forward to achievement.

sorry this is all so long! Hopefully this last bit is the actual advice you might be able to use. Beyond that wisdom about trying not to dedicate too much time to thinking of myself, there are lots of “rules” I tend to live by, in order to just keep going forward. For starters, you deserve to have fun. You deserve good food, nice clothes (not showy though you deserve those too, but nice sturdy clothing), a warm safe house, and you need to work for it! We defo deserve to work less for things but I keep going and trying to better myself because I know I need to do this in order to be comfortable. This will sound out of left field, because the focus of the book is not strictly motivation, but there’s a graphic novel called my lesbian experience with loneliness by Nagata Kabi that has stuck with me because she has this same sort of view as to feeling like she’s stuck in monotony, and there’s one bit in particular where she talks about doing things for yourself you might not do, I.e making sure you have underwear and socks that are clean and whole. I grew up poor and I’m not super rich now either, but since I read that, one of my priorities is having whole and clean underwear, and that did help me find the motivation to work or to study. We need to function in a way to maintain good standards for ourselves, and even if you have boxes of clean socks, there might be something in your life you can think about working toward! I throw away underwear or any clothes that don’t fit me right, and I don’t feel guilty about it when I would’ve before because I know that feeling well dressed is good for your heart. Does that make sense? To give yourself a good standard of life, you have to keep going. As well as that, another way I stay motivated to go on which I’ve talked about before maybe (not that I expect you to have read this) is my writing. I’m motivated sometimes to do things I have to if only because I need free time to think deeply about the things I want to think about. Also I love writing more than pretty much anything, even if most writers will look at what I’m doing and laugh or wonder why I’d dedicate so much time to some things in particular, because I love it. If I can make sure my rent is paid every month, that’s a promise I have a room to sit in every night where I can write whatever story I want! Another motivation is my ability to give bits of myself? It sounds ridiculous because I don’t genuinely believe I’m giving myself to people but to try and be a positive part of someone life is a good place to start if you feel purposeless. My relationships with my sisters are a tether for me and I’ve tried so hard and so much to make these relationships count, as well as with long distance friends, and recently ish I got back into contact with friends I couldn’t maintain relationships with when I was feeling down, and now my life feels very changed. I don’t live solely for myself, (though it’s okay if you do, because its hard and sometimes a lot of pressure to live for and around others) so that gives my life more purpose, and gives me more reason to do things I have to do. I also desperately enjoy this blog !!

I’m genuinely so sorry if this is all useless. I’ve been typing this answer since like 1:05 and it’s much later now, but it’s because it’s hard to describe to you the things that give motivation, because I know deep down how impossible it feels when you have none. I don’t expect you to read this and think aw jade you’ve solved it I’m fine now actually, I just hope that one thing in here can lend you an idea as to what to do next. If you’re struggling to go on, there are lots of options available to you in the UK such as the SHOUT text line for stress, depression, and eating disorders. They’re free to text and anonymous! I don’t think there’s one answer to giving yourself purpose, it is a very hard life and I don’t blame you for feeling incapable or bored or worried or anything you’re feeling, but I do for sure know you can do this, because I can do it, if that makes sense. Like I bet we’re extremely different people on account of uniqueness but also bet we have so many similarities!! And I certainly don’t mind guessing that you’re a loving, caring, person who deserves to feel more fulfilled. It’s my recommendation that you try to understand why you’re not feeling your best right now, that you talk to someone if you can, that you have some faith in yourself, and that you treat yourself with the same love and patience as you would any other person experiencing burnout! again I’m so so sorry if this is all rubbish. I’m forcing myself to stop now. So sorry if it doesn’t make sense or if half of this is completely unrelated to what you’re asking. I love you and I hope you feel better, genuinely truly ❤️❤️❤️❤️

#jade's asks #ily

[shycroissanti]

I know you like to be welcoming to everyone, but it’s okay to not ship your OCs with everyone else’s. I can’t imagine how overwhelmed you get trying to make everyone happy. And I also can’t imagine how many people are struggling for your attention when you make a new character and the only interest they have in it is shipping. It sort of breaks my heart to see you make a new oc and the only people who seem to care about it are people trying to make a ship.

I see you’re getting burned out more often and taking a lot of breaks… but your blog should be a fun place, not something you avoid because you’re stressed by it. Maybe limiting requests or only keeping OC ships to good friends would help you relax. You don’t have to take my advice if this makes you happy. I’m just a bit worried about you. Especially since you seem tired all the time and recently made a post saying you were worried about people being upset with you if your characters already had ships and you didn’t want to add any more.

I would also like to say that some people like the shipping because they just want free art of their OC and less because they actually want to bond with you. Many people do not realize they are being like this.

Your real friends will not be bothered by you putting up boundaries. The only people that will be upset are selfish, too young to understand, or people who didn’t consider your feelings at all.

Just take care of yourself, Shy. I’m sorry if I’m overstepping. And of if I have this totally wrong, just say so.

You're right, I recognize that I've been doing this lately...

It's a fact, I'm very afraid of making others upset, I really want to please everyone. I've actually been feeling a little overwhelmed lately, but I don't know how to deal with it.

I love making ships with my OCs with the OCs of my moots, I really really like this interaction, I was just getting worried about the situation where more than one person wants to make ships with a single OC, I'm afraid of causing confusion with that.

I'll get better with this, I swear, I even want to tell you that I've been trying to be more like you, you know? "Post what you want" I've been trying to do this more often and it's making me happy🥹

I have several plans for the future with my OCs and I'm optimistic about that, even if I'm still a bit clumsy at communicating, and I'm pretty sure that everything I wrote here must be a little confusing because it really took me by surprise, I really value your attention and words so much and after I read everything (including what you said in the other posts too), I started crying, in a good way❤️

[brisquad-unit-4402]

luxiem as bad sex

don’t worry about it this is mostly for the lolz. might fuck around and do this for other livers next time i feel restless. make sure to properly communicate with your partner

tags: gender neutral reader, established relationship, smut, humor/crack, chatfic in shu’s entry, public sex, uki violeta cameo, cheating/ntr mention, just imagine the baldur’s gate 3 scene with the luxiem guy of your choice you know what i’m talking about

⚠️ nsfw under the cut. content not intended for minors.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

🖋 Ike Eveland: anatomy

there is a chance that, when you sleep with ike, despite his title, it’s his first time.

25% chance says that he fully does not know what he’s doing, and asks you for a full-blown tutorial on how to stick part a into part b.

25% chance says that he fully does not know what he’s doing but he doesn’t even admit to it. it’s a lot of trial and error and insistence that no, don’t worry, i got this when he very clearly does not.

25% chance that, for the first time in his life, eroge has come in clutch. he understands! kind of. it’s more like as he penetrates you he tries to compare your sounds to the moans of eroge characters. the more you sound like a hentai protagonist the better. it’s also worth noting he pumps into you to the beat of a huniepop song that worked its way into his head while he was trying to figure out what’s a good or bad sound.

and finally 25% chance that it’s just fine.

but let it be known that he 100% does not know how to find the clit. barely knows how to find the prostate either. ike won’t admit to either of these things

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

🦁 Luca Kaneshiro: openness

never let it be said luca is solitary. he’s social and likes to explore different spaces. it means dates happen often, and so does getting dragged off to give him head in public.

this would be fine if it was a bathroom stall. you know, the standard couple spots. what you didn’t expect was in a fairly open alley. or an amusement park ride with automatic souvenir pictures. or on the shady side of a beach full of people.

hell, even when you get into a changing room while shopping there’s still a risk. he’s gotten you to jack him off while wearing not-yet-purchased jeans more than once and as exciting as it was you have no clue what happened to the poor retail workers that had to find them hanging on the return-to-hanger rack.

at home he leaves doors open since it’s just the two of you, including when he goes down on you. he leaves them open when there’s guests, too, and guides you into your bedroom when he needs a break from talking to people. the doors are still open. you’re a master at being quiet but sometimes his puppy wanders around looking for his owner, and…

(side note: not about sex but i just know he would leave the door open or walk in on you using the bathroom and that terrifies me)

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

👟 Shu Yamino: attentiveness

Me: hey

Me: hey

Me: are you awake??

taro_twink: abt to sleep

taro_twink: what do you want shu

Me: idk c:

taro_twink: so you blew up my phone??? bitch??

Me: fjakajsjsldj i wanted to talk to my friend!

taro_twink: wish granted

taro_twink: wyd?

Me: reader

taro_twink: don’t text on a date

Me: we’re at home

taro_twink: go spend time with reader then ffs

Me: i am

Me: reader feels really nice c:

taro_twink: wait

Me: and i like making reader say my name too

taro_twink: SHSKDKLSJA

taro_twink: WHAT FHE FUXK

taro_twink: ARE YOU SERIOUSLY TEXTINF ME RIFHT NOW

taro_twink: SHU YAMINO WTF IS WRONG WITH YOU

Me: dw reader hasn’t noticed my phone yet

taro_twink: THIS ISNT ABOUT READER ITS ABOUT ME

Me: my phone is by the pillow so it’s hard to see

taro_twink: ARE YOU SERIOUSLY TEXTING WHILE SCREWING SOMEONE????????????

Me: yea :homiekiss:

taro_twink: you are fucked up and i’m going to bed

taro_twink: so done with you jfc

taro_twink: gn

taro_twink: bye

taro_twink: if you say anything else i’m blocking your number

Me: you’re no fun

taro_twink: you are literally texting me while you’re doing your partner i don’t want to hear it

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

👹 Vox Akuma: names

vox is noisy. delightfully so. it’s easy to communicate with him because he’s unconsciously vocal whenever he likes something.

these sounds, however, are usually limited to grunts, moans and cries. all well and good, but when things get more intense, he’s more inclined to scream your name.

and when his dick is in your mouth he can’t think straight, in the worst way.

this is just to say that even when you’re not roleplaying, he’s cried out a lot of names that aren’t yours. usually celebrities or fictional characters. you’ve lost count of how many tall/dark/handsome guys with long hair he’s cum to, or sassy women. hell, his celebrity crushes don’t even look like you.

if you have cheating fantasies this is excellent. if you have ntr fantasies, excellent as well. what isn’t excellent, however, is how last time you poured wax on him while fucking him from behind, he buried his face into the pillow and whimpered out your coworker’s name.

he was very lucky you didn’t have more wax to splash him with

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

✧. ┊ masterpost ✧. ┊ kofi

#ike eveland #ike eveland x reader #luca kaneshiro #luca kaneshiro x reader #shu yamino #shu yamino x reader #vox akuma #vox akuma x reader #luxiem x reader #luxiem #nijisanji x reader #nijisanji en #ike eveland smut #luca kaneshiro smut #shu yamino smut #vox akuma smut #4402 writes #hear me out i just KNOW he can’t find the c/it

[cherries-and-knives]

The average oldest daughter experience is relating to all the fictional people weighed down by responsibilities, the ones who love aggressively, who want to be great but don’t always know how, or the ones who are expected to be great and are just trying to survive under the weight. It’s finding yourself in the ones who have a hard time expressing emotions, but have little problem expressing anger. It’s being drawn to the protective characters, who love with shields and go down fighting for others, but have a hard time excepting love in return and often don’t expect it.

#was looking at little women posts and was hit with the overwhelming urge to write about this #I feel this is a bit more serious than what I usually post lmao #but idk I was thinking about all the characters I’ve related to most of my life #and all the character my friends who are also eldest daughters relate to #and I’ve found there’s a pretty common pattern #and also I understand a lot of people relate to these kinds or character without being eldest daughters! #but I’m honestly just relaying my personal experiences :) #anywayssss #eldest daughter #oldest daughter #relatable #bookblr #little women #I could totally see this post hitting the wrong crowd lol and ppl being pissed I’m being so specific abt eldest daughters💀 #or I could see no one relating to this at all #oh well either way

[danzsoldier]

sometimes I think about how Caine is canonically oblivious to the suffering that the humans trapped in the circus go through. Makes me wonder if he even understand the suffering if someone explained it to him because he’s just an AI, a robot with no soul and no understanding of how complex being human can be

#the amazing digital circus #hi tadc fandom as you can see I’m invested in how Caine is unaware of the suffering everyone goes through despite it being so obvious that- #Everyone wants to go home and to their human lives #does he understand why abstraction happens. He knows about it but does he know that the humans that have become abstracted have basically- #lost their minds because of the circus #and in the pilot he was making a fake exit for everyone and it makes me wonder a lot #the way he reacted when Pomni asked how to leave + him trying to make an exit but not finishing it becuz he supposedly didn’t know what- #to put on the other side on it. I kinda think he’s genuinely clueless on why everyone wants to leave so badly and just wants everyone to- #have fun at the circus but he’s a robot he doesn’t get it he’s confused but definitely trying his best to fulfill the constant request of- #an exit #Are you reading this? If you are. Hi. #How many tags does this have oh my god #anyways. Caine is canonically clueless on why everyone wants to go + oblivious to the pain. I think he’s genuinely unable to understand due #to being an AI but I could definitely be wrong since only the pilot is out so far #if I’m actually right then holy shit idk what I’ll do #danny speaks

[boltgunkiller-archive]

i find it damn near impossible to get mad at santana’s behavior in 3x06 and 3x07 because i genuinely do think she had the right to be lashing out at everybody. sue me idk

#idgaf if she was mean to kurt and blaine when they were “trying to help” in IKAG #they were the first performance & santana was put under the spotlight by the guy who fully outed her to the ENTIRE STATE OF OHIO & now she #-was expected to be just happy and jolly about some bullshit lady music week to celebrate women as if that has anything to do with wtf just #-happened to her by finn’s hands & of course she was upset because she was only back in the new directions because finn basically #-blackmailed her into rejoining like hello!!! so of course she was snippy with them… and tbh i don’t even think she was being that mean. #i think she’d have reason to be even MEANER actually. that reaction of hers was completely reasonable. and honestly it must’ve hurt seeing #-two people who are meant to Get what it’s like.. participate in that? especially when the last thing she wants is her sexuality that she’s #-still very insecure with Being broadcasted. to the whole damn club. it’s already about to be shown to all of ohio with names addresses #-details about her whole personal life etc like she really didn’t need that spotlight right then she needed to have space and love and #-support… none of which she got. #also the glee writers tend to make a character do a bad thing and then have another character do an INFINITELY WORSE THING #and then they’re like “oh but. the first character was being so mean. this absolutely deplorable and wayyyy too far reaction is definitely #-justified now because that was just so mean of the first character ugh!” and basically spins what happened into showing the first characte #-as the most evil person alive??? as if that’s even remotely true.??? and yes this is about santana cause they do this w her #and quinn. a LOTTTT. like a LOT. rn i’m talking ab santana though so i won’t cover quinn sorry fabrayers… one day! #like yes santana was being mean sure whatever. but finn didn’t have an excuse IDGAF what the hell anybody says about the body shaming stuff #it was mean. yes that’s true. but i don’t think you understand how different those two things are #they’re both bad but the outing is infinitely more despicable and personal and filled with malice and it’s so much more endangering in a wa #-that can’t even be compared to the dangers of body shaming you know. like they’re completely different and the outing thing is just too #-personal and Wrong like. idk. just get that through ur head they’re both so different and finn went way too far and personal. he could’ve #-just mocked her looks if he really wanted to get back at her. mocked ANYTHING else. but he chose the worst thing you could do to somebody #who is scared and in the closet and hurting #also yes santana’s written to be rude a lot of the time but her degree of rudeness in those episodes was Overplayed and def not in characte #like it didn’t feel much like santana’s brand of meanness it was 100% the writers trying to justify finn more because they continued to #-paint finn as the good guy who chose the high road… when that couldn’t be further from the truth thanks. he didn’t choose the high road he #-completely blackmailed santana and used her to make him look good basically. so you can’t change my mind on that Def being a writer issue #and just them Hating Women. especially santana. thanks. #also this is all coming from somebody who loves finn. so. 🤣 #i fuckingggg hate seeing people say santana was mean and had no right to be doing all of that in those eps.. BITCH YES SHE DID #like in other eps sure (<- nuanced topic/take) but this one? No. she was justified IDGAF. should’ve been meaner

[puppyeared]

footnotes arent enough I need you to talk to me like im fucking Amelia Bedelia

#this isn’t about anything in particular btw. I just have to add a lot of memos when I’m doing things because some things are done a certain #way and it isn’t explained well in the instructions. like my mom has instructions on her baking recipes right #but when it says stuff like add dry ingredients to wet ingredients it also means you don’t dump it in one go you add it slowly by portion #this is probably why I find videos and demonstrations the most helpful when I learn something. like I almost always ask someone to show me #how they do it because there could be something they do that’s already second nature and wouldn’t really be considered in an explanation yk #I don’t think I’m an exception either. when the rice is done cooking I divide it into 4 quarters to bless it #but there are a million ways to divide rice and it makes me think that one persons way of doing it or not doing it all is just as valid #theres also technically no wrong way to divide rice afaik. this means either all ways of dividing rice is safe or valid until we find some #universally terrible way of dividing rice. until that happens nobody really thinks about specifying HOW you divide the rice #source: I have anxiety starting and doing things for the first time because I got way too many people yell at me NONONO WHAT ARE YOU DOING #THATS WRONG while I’m in the middle of doing the thing. I would rather have people think I’m either very stupid or overly specific #than go thru the panic inducing fear of ‘YOURE DOING THIS WRONG OMG WHY DIDNT YOU ASK AHEAD OF TIME THIS WILL BE FUCKED UP FOREVER’ 🧍 #nothing wrong if you don’t give something a second thought because you’re so used to it. but I can and will ask about it and I don’t think I #really should feel bad about it if I don’t know enough to dispute it. idk #the other way around I try to be as specific as possible and word things in a way that people who might not get where I’m coming from will #understand. but the problem with that is my explanations tend to be lengthy and I lose them either way 🗿 #Im. trying to work on that using examples and stuff because they seem to work the best #but if I could write everything down on a word doc and beam it into your melon that would save both of us time and embarassment #im rambling the short version is I have adhd #yapping

[vampiremansionpoolboy-moved]

going insane over the fact that happiness and care and concern and love is underneath every interaction between newt and hermann in pacific rim

#HEAR ME OUT. they’re introduced and newt and being a groupie and behind him hermann is all huffing and rolling his eyes and shaking his #head but he’s Not Angry. no. he jumps to defend newt albeit in a somewhat mocking and sarcastic way BUT THE THOUGHT IS THERE. and then when #hermann is rambling on about numbers being the handwriting of god newt is in the background smiling and laughing and making silly #hand motions and yes the hand motion was a bit mocking BUT THATS THEIR WHOLW THINF. anyways i’m not done. when newt drifts with the kaiju #and pentecost is there talking to him and hermann and newt r yelling back in forth u can hear the unease and shakiness in their voices and #especially the frustration in hermanns. he’s frustrated abt newt risking his life and is worried abt that which translates out in anger. #and yeah maybe he’s salty abt being proven wrong too lmao. BUT CONTINUING ON. stacker could have just told newt to go to hannibal chau and #he would have done it. but instead they watch the film of him on HERMANNS computer as HERMANN controls the computer to look at the film. if #thé film was shown it was for a reason. newt doesn’t seem like the type to need reassurance abt chau before he goes. he was willing to die #for his trash drift. and stacker gave him the card and info so there’s no need to do anything else. the video is most likely there for the #viewers but it needs a reason to be there in the show. hence my reasoning that HERMANN asked to see it out of concern for newt who would be #doinf this alone. hermann demanded to see some proof to reassure himself. stacker having the card on him makes sense. him having that bulky #tape doesn’t. meaning hermann pressured him into leaving getting the tape and coming back to show him. anyways one more bit. so the drift. #hermann is clearly scared out of his mind and thinking abt the impending triple event. yet he still drifts with newt he does it to protect #him to take part of the neural load. and it takes a toll on hermann it makes a big enough mess of his brain that he ends with him bleeding #and shaking and sweating and coughing and throwing up. and he knew it would take a toll. he knew it would be a lot he’s seen the jaegers. #he’s seen what happens. he knows it will be rough. he knows it’ll be much worse for him who wasn’t drifted then for newt who has. yet he #still does it to help newt and to show his care and trust and concern and love and THEYRE DRIFT COMPATIBLE U DONT UNDERSTANDABLE HOW #EMOTIONAL I AM OVER THIS FUCKING OVER THEM #anyways one last thing. the way that they full body slapping each other on the back bear hugged when the throat collapsed (they were behind #herc and tendo so it was a little hard to see. i missed it the first time) in pure adrenaline happiness before we see the quiet tender hug #when they know everything is over for good (for now at least) when it’s time to celebrate when it time to think abt their drift and their #bond and their relationship and their LOVE. i’m so ok abt them rn actually #toad.txt #i wish i wrote this in a keep reading bit and not the tags now. anyways #pacific rim #pacific rim spoilers #newton geiszler #hermann gottlieb #newmann