Wrists Are For Words, Not Scars

"I guess you wouldn’t, huh?" Jehan signs softly, shaking his head a little bit at his friend’s question. "No, I’m fine. Just… Had a rough week is all. You wanna go have some drinks with me or something?"

"I wouldn’t; you’re attractive and you seem nice.” Zack nods slightly, worried about his friend. “I understand rough weeks. Yeah, I’d like something to drink.”

"Well, thank you Zack. You're sweet." The poet smiles softly, his pale green eyes sparkling a little bit as he took hold of the other man's hand, holding it tightly. "My place is closer... I have all sorts of crap in the fridge and in the cupboards."

He plopped down in the grass and smoked away his sadness, closing his eyes as the world slowly begun to spin around him. He was already pretty messed up, that much was obvious. He had been going down a path of self-destruction for weeks now. Tonight, he had hit bottom. “Iris… I’m Jehan. You want some?” He murmurs, holding out the blunt with a shaky hand. It was then that his sleeve came up a little, revealing some of the deep, neat cuts that were evenly spaced going from his wrist up to his forearm.

Her breathing hitches as she shakes€ her head, her thin frame shaking as well. “N-no thank you.” If she got any closer, she had the feeling she would snap. Even having fed as recently as she had, it was still testing her strength. “I don’t smoke anything.” It had absolutely no effect on her. Only ridiculous amounts of alcohol really affected her.

"Mmm... Okay then. More for me." He smiles lazily, sprawling out on his back as he continued to smoke. Hie head was cocked to one side, neck bare and strained a little bit. He was too out of it, to the point where if something happened tonight, he wouldn't remember it in the morning.

"Oh come on, stop lying to me. I’m not that attractive. Not like you.” He blushes, playing nervously with his fingers as he gazed up into the other man’s eyes. “Just am. Done some pretty bad things over the years. Who knows, maybe I have stolen souls. Probably sucked it from the lips of the people I’ve kissed when I get drunk or something.”

"Why would I lie about something as serious as you being attractive?" Zack asked, raising his eyebrows at the other boy. "Are you alright? I didn’t mean to strike a nerve or anything."

"I guess you wouldn't, huh?" Jehan signs softly, shaking his head a little bit at his friend's question. "No, I'm fine. Just... Had a rough week is all. You wanna go have some drinks with me or something?"

He rubbed his wrists through the long sleeve shirt he wore, itching at the irritated skin. Hazy green eyes met bright blue, staring at them for a long moment. The poet shrugged at her words, pulling a blunt out of the pocket of his jacket, holding it between his teeth as he lit it. This was how he coped with his demons. As he took in a deep drag, he too gazed up at the stars, sighing softly. “You got a name then?”

✿ ———— The smell of weed did little to mask the blood, obviously coming from his wrist, but it was enough to allow her to breathe. “Iris,” she muttered as she let her breath out. Since her birth (a good two hundred years ago at the least), she had gone by quite a few names, but Iris, her birth name, had always been her favorite. “And you?”

He plopped down in the grass and smoked away his sadness, closing his eyes as the world slowly begun to spin around him. He was already pretty messed up, that much was obvious. He had been going down a path of self-destruction for weeks now. Tonight, he had hit bottom. "Iris... I'm Jehan. You want some?" He murmurs, holding out the blunt with a shaky hand. It was then that his sleeve came up a little, revealing some of the deep, neat cuts that were evenly spaced going from his wrist up to his forearm.

"You know, I figured you had to. Attractiveness like yours just isn’t possible without some soul stealing and selling." Jehan smirks a little but, running his fingers through his hair slowly. "I’m surprised I have one at this point too."

Zack laughed, blushing slightly. “No, no soul stealing for this. Now your attractiveness, on the other hand, definitely had to come from some secret soul taking.” he smiled softly at the other redhead. “Why are you surprised you have a soul still?”

"Oh come on, stop lying to me. I'm not that attractive. Not like you." He blushes, playing nervously with his fingers as he gazed up into the other man's eyes. "Just am. Done some pretty bad things over the years. Who knows, maybe I have stolen souls. Probably sucked it from the lips of the people I've kissed when I get drunk or something."

lordheck-deactivated20150926

pastagoddesss

"The brain can get sick too."

Re-make of this post.

End mental health stigma.

If you EVER need someone to talk to, my ask is open! Stay strong loves.

justedrecoverythings

THIS IS SO IMORTANT. Remember: It’s not your fault.

xj9kin-deactivated20150425

i love how there is no comments on this everyone just gets the reference

itsbritkneebitch

But look at the document title…

jjfree

SPONGEBOB

"Seriously. Nah man, I never stole any souls. Don’t need to, cause contrary to popular belief, I do in fact have one myself. What about you?"

"Well, some of us have to steal souls. I had to ask. I don’t have a soul. I sold it to Satan to be this attractive." Zack laughed, joking. "I’m kidding, I’ve got a soul surprisingly."

"You know, I figured you had to. Attractiveness like yours just isn't possible without some soul stealing and selling." Jehan smirks a little but, running his fingers through his hair slowly. "I'm surprised I have one at this point too."

Jehan gazed at the pale haired girl, shrugging a little bit as he shoved his hands deep inside the pockets of his leather jacket. “I don’t know… The moon is comforting.” He murmurs. The poet was drunk and high, fresh cuts on his wrists. It had been a bad night. Walking helped him calm down, which was what he needed to do after his breakdown.

✿ ———— She quirked a brow then glanced down, not breathing at all. The smell of fresh blood hit her like a ton of bricks, and frankly, she was not quite sure if she could handle it. “I suppose it is, isn’t it?” she said softly, her unnaturally bright blue eyes meeting his for a moment before looking up at the stars. They were shining so brightly, and it made her feel at peace —— which was somewhat rare, since it seemed as if she would never truly be at peace with the world, being a killer by nature and all.

He rubbed his wrists through the long sleeve shirt he wore, itching at the irritated skin. Hazy green eyes met bright blue, staring at them for a long moment. The poet shrugged at her words, pulling a blunt out of the pocket of his jacket, holding it between his teeth as he lit it. This was how he coped with his demons. As he took in a deep drag, he too gazed up at the stars, sighing softly. "You got a name then?"

"People who don’t understand how hard it is to be a ginger man, apparently. I get asked all the time if my freckles represent the number of souls I’ve stolen. I mean, come on already!"

"Fuck them, though. It’s already hard enough being ginger. Can we stop asking about my freckles now? Have you stolen any souls, though?"

#thegoodkidsx #i love him already haha

"Seriously. Nah man, I never stole any souls. Don't need to, cause contrary to popular belief, I do in fact have one myself. What about you?"

"Earlier today I was asked if my freckles were keeping track of all my visits with Satan…. Who even asks that?"

"People who don't understand how hard it is to be a ginger man, apparently. I get asked all the time if my freckles represent the number of souls I've stolen. I mean, come on already!"

✿ ———— ”What are you doing out here so late? It could be dangerous.” She would know; Iris is what the other should be afraid of.

Jehan gazed at the pale haired girl, shrugging a little bit as he shoved his hands deep inside the pockets of his leather jacket. "I don't know... The moon is comforting." He murmurs. The poet was drunk and high, fresh cuts on his wrists. It had been a bad night. Walking helped him calm down, which was what he needed to do after his breakdown.