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orchid-mantis-petals · 1 year ago

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IN THE WRONG SKIN

/ Heyo!! Hi!! You might be asking yourself 'Another Fic..?? Lu you animal!!" I know, I know. But this is the first time In my life I have had long distance friends..I can't drive to their houses and hand them gifts. So I write for them. Let their favorites make their week just a hair bit better.

/ @taeminsung This one is for you. Please Enjoy. I hope this week is better than last. If not I am always here to chat.

/ Genre: Fluff, comfort, slight angst, your teeth might rot!!

/ Warnings: Talks of anxiety, mean co-workers, yelling

/ Summary:

“He’s a knucklehead. I will yell at him later. For now, who said you have to follow the steps?? Why can’t you make it up as you go??” You watched as he slipped away from you, a small cry died in your throat as he shushed you, his eyes held a promise he’d return to your side.

“Because that’s how it’s supposed to be,” he chuckled softly as he played with the laptop they alway used to play music when they practiced.

“How do you think Stinky-Head comes up with this stuff?? I watched him just stand here and flail his arms around for an hour till he found a move he liked,”

His sigh pierced your ears for what felt like the fifth time that night. You were the one to schedule time with your beloved. You were the one who asked for a night to dance with him. It was you who planned this. So why did it feel as though it was all just bothersome. Not only to you but to Lee Know.

“No it’s left, left Y/N,” his voice wasn’t as gentle as it was an hour ago when you both started to work on Megaverse.

“Sorry,” the word was meek, quiet, it nearly died on your tongue before you could even utter it. He sighed once more and started the music again. It wasn’t his fault though, or at least that is what you kept telling yourself. Deep down you knew the only person to blame for this ‘lack of effort’ was yourself. Your whole week had been crap. But today especially was difficult, when you got up that morning you felt as though you had crawled inside the wrong skin. It was as though it was one size too small. All day you begged for your brain to stop the back and forth debate of if you deserved all you had worked for. You’d hoped dancing with Lee Know would clear your head of the degrading thoughts. To your dismay it didn’t. Rather it only fueled the negativity that riddled your motions slower, and wrong. It wasn’t as simple as you woke up on the wrong side of the bed. No, you woke up on the wrong side of your life. Another misstep, and another, then soon the music stopped. The room deafened with the clear silence.

“Seriously Y/N. You come to me whining about how you need to dance. How you need to do it with me. But all you’ve done is mess up. Chan had three new tracks ready for me. I could have spent my day doing something far better than watch you fumble about!!” he spoke to you through the studio mirror. Eyes not even taking care to glance at your reaction. With one last sigh he collected his bag and left you there alone. It was then you realized everything that day had gone wrong. All you could do was stand there back to the mirror. He didn’t mean it you tried to tell yourself. Dance is his passion, and though it was yours too today you acted a fool. Acted as though none of it all mattered. You hadn’t heard the door open again. With your eyes cast to the floor you didn’t even see that someone had come to join you until their sneakers were toe to toe with yours.

“Hey, where’s Lee Know??” It was Seungmin who had now come into the room with you. Your response to him was a simple shrug to your shoulders. “I thought you two had the day together. Didn’t the two of you have today off??”

“He left,” your voice was quiet as it spilled past your lips. Through it you kept your emotions in check, no cadence to your voice. It caught Seungmin off guard, you were always so sweet when you spoke to him. The way you usually engaged with him was always full of bright smiles and loud laughs. This small quietness wasn’t you. At least a version of you that he wasn’t familiar with.

“He left??”

“Yeah got mad at me and left,” you felt your nails dig into the meat of your palms. A calm reminder to not cry. Slowly you relaxed your fingers only to dig them back into your palms. The action caught on by the taller man in front of you. “Spill it Y/N,” finally you dared to look up at him. In his face you expected to see disappointment, anger, or even pity in his eyes. Instead when your eyes met his all you saw was concern, his hands placed on his hips as he leaned forward some to look at you. The center of his brows drawn upward as his deep brown eyes widened when you looked at him. “Mochi??” That's all it took, the moment he looked you in the eyes the tears you fought so hard to keep in check spilled over.

“I-I,” your hands dug deeper, if you released them you were sure they would be a little bloody. Half Crescent scars bedded in the skin. “Minnie, I,”

“Breathe Mochi,” his hands shot forward, when your fingers relaxed, his own slipped in to guard your palms from further abuse. “In..Hold..Out..Hold..In..” he worked with you for a moment until he felt your body lean forward to sag against him.

“Do you ever feel like you crawled into the wrong skin?? Or I don’t know you’re just a passenger in an autopilot of a carcass??” The questions were odd, and rather specific to how you currently felt.

“No, but there are days that I feel like no matter what I try it doesn’t all make sense. Or that the work I do for my team isn’t enough,” oh..while he didn’t feel it the same way you do, he felt the deep hurt that nestled into your heart and took residence without ever paying its rent.

“My week, it was awful. I wanted to dance with Lee Know today. I wanted it to clear my head a little. But I kept messing up. Then Minho yelled at me for it and stormed off,”

“Because that’s how it’s supposed to be,” he chuckled softly as he played with the laptop they alway used to play music when they practiced.

“How do you think Stinky-Head comes up with this stuff?? I watched him just stand here and flail his arms around for an hour till he found a move he liked,”

“You’re lying,” you giggled softly as a hand came to cover your mouth to try and contain it.

“Am, not, have the whole thing on video,” he returned to your side as music filled the quiet room once more. “Come on Mochi, dance with me,” he moved to the beat of the music, sure he wasn’t the ‘best’ dancer in the group. But the way his lanky limbs moved always captivated your attention. It didn't take you long to recognise the song as ‘I don’t understand but I love you,’ by Seventeen, your other favorite idol group. After a few seconds you joined Seungmin in the dance. With your eyes closed you allowed your body to move as it desired. It had no rhyme or reason to it. You just existed in the space around. It didn’t make sense, but it felt right. With your eyes closed you hadn’t noticed the other occupant in the room stop to watch you. Not until the song stopped and your eyes met his in the mirror. “Better??”

“Much, thank you,” nothing felt perfect, you still felt off. But some of the pent up emotion from your crappy week had filtered away with the dance you just did.

“Good, so here’s the plan. I am going to take you home, put you on the couch and snuggle you. But I am also going to text Butt-Face and tell him he made you cry,”

“Minnie..Don’t,” you began to protest but it was far too late. He had already texted his Hyung while you were busy with your dance. Quietly he ushered you away to the dorms where he settled your head into his lap, your favorite couch blanket when you visited draped over your body. There was a show on over the tv. But it was useless background noise while you chatted with your best friend. It wasn’t even an hour later when the door burst open with a loud bang.

“Y/N!!” Lee Know called out as he haphazardly kicked his shoes off. You moved to sit up but Seungmin kept your head against his thighs, fingers laced in your hair as he stroked it back away from your neck. When the older rounded the corner he saw the two of you on the couch. But his only thought was to make sure you were okay. In quick short strides he settled himself at your eyelevel on the floor. “I am so sorry my darling,”

“It’s okay,”

“No its not,” Seungmin took this moment to slide out from under you and venture to his room.

“Y/N call if you need me,” with one last squeeze he disappeared down the hall.

“Let me speak,” you nodded as you sat up to listen to him intently. “I should have realized that you were struggling. Rather than scold you for something that was clearly making you stressed. I am sorry I didn’t listen to you then, I will now. Please tell me what’s wrong,” he settled his hands into yours, he knew your habits before even you did.

“I had a really bad week, my coworker, the one who causes problems, targeted me again. He caused a fight with the team, picked apart everything we did. Threw all of us under the bus, and even had a supervisor breathing down our necks. I felt as though I did a horrible job with everything this week. My only saving grace was that you and I had time together. But even that went wrong, I woke up and felt like I just didn’t belong. As though everything I did or said was just bothersome to you and the others. You rearranged your weekend to fit me in but even that went wrong. I messed up the dance, I got stuck in my head, and I just can’t help but feel I am not worthy of your time. Not wor-” you were cut off mid sentence by Lee Know. His soft lips crashed against yours with such force your teeth clacked together. When he pulled back you both laughed, your sound music to his ears. As it died down he looked at you, his eyebrows set down with seriousness.

“Never ever say you aren’t worthy. Because you are Y/N. You are worth more than anything in this world. Cheesy as it is to say I will spend every day at your side and prove to you that you are worth more than you can fathom. I will not let you settle yourself for less, because darling I love you too much for that to happen,” you nodded slowly as he pressed his forehead to yours. “As for that coworker, he just wants under your skin. It’s okay to feel that, but don’t believe it. You are amazing at your job, your skills are beyond what he can comprehend. If he targets you again, text me, I will send pictures of the boy's butts to cheer you up,” your laughter roared through the room, leave it to Lee Know to ‘fix’ a problem by using his members' butts as bait.

“Okay I will,”

“Good, because he doesn't know shit,” you laughed more as he settled into the spot Seungmin vacated. This time you kissed him slow, and gentle before you rested your head on his plush thighs. Lee Know moved to rest his hand on your shoulder rubbing slow and steady soon you drifted off to sleep. Come morning you found yourself tangled in the bed sheets, limbs wrapped tight around your boyfriend. He looked down at you from his glasses, a book in hand, he set it down to give you his full attention now.

“Lee Know,”

“Yes my Darling,”

“I love you,”

“I love you too Y/N,” it wasn’t perfect, you still felt off. But with him beside you it felt just a little more right. As though only a single hair was out of place. With him you could handle that, because you weren’t alone in it. You had your Lee Know beside you, and your Minnie not far behind.

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yutasbimil · 8 months ago

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Oxymoron

vyn x fem!oc | tears of themis ff. (psychology major!lead) ✦ (8/8) [series fic] !!! also posted on my ao3 acc! { here } tags: hurt/comfort ♡︎ cw: heavy on (self) angst; suicidal ideation; graphic and morbid descriptions on said thoughts, negative self-talk, skewed self-perception, mentions of attempts, self-harm. triggering topic on neglect and invalidation of family/relatives. it all eventually wraps up nicely with comfort! ;w; If I were to encapsulate Yule x Vyn's relationship in a song, I think this fits them nicely :') ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။ | ‘you were good to me’ by jeremy zucker, chelsea cutler + supposedly this is a 'x reader' fic but got too heavy eventually, I apologize truly ;; word count: 3.6k

do not repost © yutasbimil (2024)

cont.

Her waking life seems to be a walking oxymoron. Yule keeps contradicting herself of her beliefs, relearning everything from the truth that was built by someone else for her.

Maybe as to why she is at constant war with herself.

Now she’s crippled in taking her own steps after being locked up for so long in other people’s chains.

But she keeps caving in.

At most it stayed stagnant as ‘suicidal ideation’ to her, ever so lingering like a cycle.

Not till recently, a door peeked off an attempt and showed up a possibility at the doorstep for Yule.

And it scared the crap out of her.

Never she had seen a suicidal attempt an option.

As killing herself brought so much distress and inconvenience to her, the idea of her bones, guts, and body splattering all over after jumping skyscrapers, or by the cliff where she rots just doesn't bring justice to her body.

Even physically harming herself like cutting slits in her skin just brings inconvenience to her. The blood spilling, the healing process, the scarring… it's too much of an inconvenience so she just relies on other means of self-harm.

To starvation, dehydration, oversleeping, punishing herself by lying on a pool of her own sweat and limiting herself to any means of ventilation, and just sleeping for hours on end just to avoid everything.

Major Depressive Disorder with tendencies to self-harm huh?

Not at all real!

I’m miserable! I was born on a Wednesday, I am woe!

Although I have aggression and display such hostility, it is only to myself. Yet it isn't enough of an acknowledgment that I want myself gone?

How much begging on my knees is needed to be done?

The noose just brings a cone of shame type of feeling onto her as she doesn't like her body to be seen in the aftermath.

Even after dying, you're still shamed.

And she doesn't want that.

On the contrary, she's embarrassed at most having to think this morbidly that it brings Yule to shame if she ever dies sad and as a psychology advocate in the field.

A mental health advocate dying of suicide? Oh Lord, the shame.

As if we're immune to the mental distress and agony, but alas, it's hard for people to understand that people are most likely prone to such anguish of humanity.

It's difficult for Yule to grasp that she's back in this state.

But the last time she had bed rotted? Much so that she stayed almost two weeks at worst in her bed with little to no eating, drinking, and bathing herself— It just made her parents fucking mad for acting such a way.

An insolent fool, why are you acting so pathetic?

No such words came out of their mouth but the looks on their faces didn't show any sign of concern. If anything, it's just having such a disgrace of a human coming out of their womb.

And when they demanded her to open up, which she did multiple times FYI— All they did was dismiss and invalidate her.

Yule is tired, beyond expended but she has no other choice but to just continue on to carry her flesh and bones walking this earth.

New profound demons emerged along the voices in her head to “Do it.” Do an attempt to just get it over with to prove your point, Yule.

Show them how serious you are…

The whispers have been stronger and viler ever since. But she doesn't want to cave in.

At the back of her mind, it's not at all worth it to prove a point. Pointless. How serious and severe her mental ache is… it brings more gape and hollow to her already void heart the idea of dying in actuality.

“I don't like the idea of dying, I just want to disappear out of thin air.”

And it just goes on as a cycle.

You achieved all that and yet you're depressed?

Exactly. No matter how many heights I reach… All I ever wanted was a hand to reach out to me when I was in desperate need of help.

But it's just going to be dismissed.

I want to jump off and disappear.

She had dissociated since yesterday, even the packing and unpacking of her things were more organized than her array of thoughts.

Yule could only breathe in as she heard a knock outside the bathroom door.

“You need help with anything, dear?” Vyn checks up on her, she’s taking longer than usual as he noticed.

Yule blinked, blankly looking at the unkept reflection mocking her as it showed a tear-stained face she didn’t even notice had emerged.

“N-no, just… will be done after this!” she cleared her dry throat, mouth grubby as her croak echoed in the bathroom walls.

Vyn simply responded ‘alright’, and let her be with her business.

The bathroom door creaked open as Yule dragged the door a bit too timidly, trying to not make a sound but opposite it did.

By the looks of it, Vyn had been waiting for her as he sat by the sofa with a tablet at hand, looking casual as he read through the screen. Vyn briefly scans her as well, retaining his glance at her for a moment to acknowledge her presence in the living room. But he kept quiet, respecting the space she needed.

Yet here she is, being unreasonable towards him…

Even as Yule gets the vacant seat across him, she quickly gets swallowed up with guilt. She scrunches up her long skirt, lowering her head. Yule can’t even look at Vyn. “Can I sit beside you?”

Vyn looks up to meet her shaky eyes, he nods and pats the space beside him.

Yule can’t help but tear down her walls.

Tackling Vyn’s figure a bit, Yule is enveloped in the silver-haired male’s arms as she bursts into tears. Vyn encapsulated the petite lady into their safety net, hovering his hand slightly over her head.

Yule hugs him tighter, barely coherent. “V-vyn… I-I…” she tried to muster words, but she could only manage to bury herself in his chest.

Vyn just stayed quiet, holding her and shushing her to calm down. Yule only clutched to his shirt as she sipped in another breath.

“Sorry about what I said earlier, and how I acted as a jerk. I warned you beforehand but that was still out of line. I’m sorry…” Another intake of breath. “I don't know what came over me, but I know it is still wrong and I want to make up for it.”

Even in the previous instances, the sudden outbursts are quite telling. It masks her shame of the obvious relapse. Even as how she interprets it... it's her catching up on a lot of suppressed emotions that she exploded to tears.

Even simmering down her tears once it starts is difficult. It just resulted in her crying for hours as she felt helpless.

She feels empty yet again.

Yet, it spiked fear in her system.

Her eyes maintained such shakiness due to panic, about how? How could I ever make up to Vyn after that instance?

“I just feel helpless and it was not the right method to ask for help when you're being warm towards me. Always, just being kind when I least deserve it.”

Vyn had to rebut her on that.

“No one deserves to be punished for trying, and I can see that with you, love.” Vyn caresses and brushes her hair, feeling the hotness of her tears and breath near him. He hopes to lighten up the heaviness she feels in her strained breathing. “You deserve kindness the most on how people can be quite ignorant of their actions, and not the reaction of people towards their behavior.”

So I am making sense and just reacting towards their actions?

But… it’s still not pretty and kind. Vyn seeing me like this…Her abandonment issues heightened her anxiety.

“I-I don't know I just, feel unworthy and I want you to leave me as it's easier than to deal with this whole mess.” Her breath hitched at the thought, and she quickly took it back. “But—! I don't want you to prove it either that I am that easy to leave and unlovable—”

“You really just listen to what you want, hmm?” Vyn clasps his hands on both her cheeks to make her look at him. He sees his reflection through her dewy eyes. “Didn't I say I won't leave despite your attempts to throw me off? I am not that easy to be unfazed.”

His doting eyes bring her more tears, especially his words. “You’re so worthy, more than worthy. You deserved to be loved.”

He kisses atop her head, to her forehead, looking at her deeply once again making her meet his golden eyes. “I'll never get sick of understanding you and standing by your side. Never that I'll get weary, I get tired as I'm human, yes, but then I'll rest… Nothing a little slumber, even in the comfort of another, beside each other. Hmmm? Isn’t this proof enough that I remain holding you like this that you are worthy, Yule?”

“Vyn…”

“I love you more than enough to stay.”

“I feel ugly and disgusting. I haven't properly cleaned myself— there are others better, prettier, and saner than me. Not broken...” she voiced out but her endeavors were blocked by the stroking thumb by the side of her lips. Vyn’s eyes remained unwavering, contrarily, it’s in the midst of softened to deepening eyes striking back at her.

“And do I care? I don't care about other people as they're not you, Yule." Vyn pressed. "And you are not broken, don't call yourself such statements.”

Alas, her attempts to run away didn’t work as usual.

“Again, I’m sorry." she breathes in. "I’m ready now to talk…”

Finally sorted out her thoughts, Yule vented out as to why she doesn’t like visiting home, on what had happened. But that’s the usual conversation laid on the table in their household. Nothing new.

She only went back to get some of the important documents she had forgotten in their home.

“That was what occupied your thoughts since yesterday, hmmm? Explaining your dissociation since this trip began, love.”

Yule nods, and Vyn begins to piece together how much it makes sense. Her antsy behavior when it comes to time, she got so used to strict and unreasonable curfews. It was as if her body was still in panic mode, and it showed through her jitters. It really stuck even though she’s now free and already is an adult.

Being caged for so long has long-lasting effects like this.

Yule got caught up in her flow of venting, she felt her breath hot and tired. She craved water.

“Sorry, we’re supposed to have fun and forget our usual daily lives for a moment.” Yule laughs dryly, guilt catching up her skin, but Vyn’s hand caught her consciousness first, cutting off any means of shame to develop.

“You’re supposed to let off some steam, that’s the purpose of this trip after all…”

He reaches out to her cold hands, yet his are still colder than hers. Even so, the softened gaze in his eyes radiates warmth. Like sunlight gently peeking out the curtain windows ever so slightly at mid-late morning.

She heaves in a breath to ground herself.

“Is that why you asked me on my day off to go somewhere all of a sudden?”

“Not sudden but… I had been planning since to make sure everything would go smoothly. Such a surprise needs intricate planning.”

The hints of perfectionism are reflected in his reasoning then again. But he admits a slight slip-up to his plan, a hiccup if I may.

Vyn noticed Yule was extra cautious and might have triggered her anxiety due to him ignoring her or being suspicious these past few days, adding to her abandonment issues resurfacing.

He’s guilty of this.

“I apologize it's not the best execution as it made you overthink and almost caused rapture in your trust in me. Most especially that it was an inappropriate timing due to your recent unpleasantries. But I hope you understood my intentions…”

“You didn’t know fully what happened to me…” she shakes her head, sighing out of relief. “This made up for it, don't worry. I know your intentions very well, love.”

“Yes, but I still should've done better, I apologize, m’lady.”

Seeing her finally softening up, to her stable breathing and relaxed eyes. He can finally somehow rest easy.

Vyn continues to stroke his fingers on her hand, bringing it up close to his lips to gently caress it. “You told me last time that you wanted to visit this place, so your wish is my command.”

“I only mentioned it briefly, but you took that much thought into it?” She smiles to herself. “Your attention to detail is truly exceptional, Will.”

Feeling more loosened up and at ease, she reached and tugged the hem of his polo shirt.

“Vyn… I still feel disoriented, I’m embarrassed to ask this but… can you help me with my hair?”

“Sure, no worries…” He heaves her in to fix her posture as he’s back-hugging her. His tone showed no hesitations, whatsoever.

“But I’m giving you a heads-up I haven't washed it in days.” Yule goes onto a blabber then again. She’s just afraid of being vulnerable and him seeing her state like this, her condition of being lazy and tactless over her hygiene.

That’s when she knew it was getting bad.

Her basic functioning is blighted.

Also, this answers her attempts to avoid kissing him or anything and just isolates herself as she feels paralyzed to do anything.

Again, Vyn is that observant of her habits, it no longer hinders his interest in her.

“Want me to prepare a bath for you as well? Or… we can take a bath together?” The perk of his silver brow hints a sliver of mischievousness.

Though, the suggestion seems so convincing if it means getting refreshed. It didn’t show or imply any lewdness from the silver-haired man at all.

She could only let loose and be vulnerable; bare-naked in his presence on how gentle Vyn handles her.

The simple gesture overwhelms her, even with him tucking her in bed.

Vyn smoothed and brushed her hair with his fingers. He laid a chaste kiss atop her head as he whispered a soft good night.

His voice ever soothing her senses. Quite opposite of her sleepless nights in her childhood bedroom. The neon star stickers on her bedroom ceiling bring more blinding rays than calm slumber. And the random noise in their house is like storm clouds hovering over her head.

But being in his presence and his sound of breathing, equates to a calm pattering on the roof of a tranquil rain, and their shared bed a laid out like a cloud to soundly sleep in.

Lifting her chin up as support, Vyn wipes off the tears that she didn't even notice already leaked out beyond her consciousness and control.

“I'm sorry for how cruel the world has been to you, love.” He softly speaks, and he laid kisses by her eyes. “You don't deserve any of this travesty on your character.”

“No, we don't, Vyn… we deserve more than just survival." There's lightness in her chest saying this, she pulls him closer to her chest, enough that they attune to both their heartbeats. "We should be able to live.”

We deserve better, and on how Yule is crying right now, it is encapsulated in her endearing gaze towards this man.

It’s to let out all the pain, and how she yearns for a soft, easy-going life. That’s what she wanted all along. The calmness. And she’s eternally grateful that Vyn is the one to open her eyes to the possibility that she deserves this.

She deserves the light to live, to rest easy, to be able to breathe. And the privilege of living to share a breath with another.

“And your turmoil towards what they're doing is as it should, it's of reason… and does not reflect nor imply blighted blemishes on you as a person.

You are human after all, and you should be allowed to be human with vast and depth of emotions.

As not everything is black and white, my love, and I know it has been difficult for you to navigate through the opacity and hues of the grayness of it all… But I will gladly be of service to be your strength in this journey with you.”

His words serve as a soft reminder, but also shatter her in the sense that she wakes up. It's time to face reality. That everything coming up to this point in one’s life matters to shape a person, but it shouldn’t dictate you on your desired, deserved future.

It is still a matter of one’s hand how we navigate through life. But it’s also a nice reminder that she has a helping hand to count on as she journeys further ahead.

Yule truly needed that wake-up call.

This is a reminder to keep trying. To live on.

“You're no longer alone, and I hope I don't bring you shame that I am not the first person in mind to hold on to when you need help.”

“But now, I have to keep ingraining it in my mind to think of you, always… will that be alright?” Yule cups her hand on his face, tracing the mole residing by the side of his eye.

He beams, putting his hand over hers. “You have my full permission, love. And vice-versa.”

Reciprocated, as their love for each other.

Feeling the restlessness vanish, his words are the only thing grounding her tonight.

He continued his list of reminders, as tonight seemed to be the night she needed it the most. And hopefully, the last time she would be wrapped in intense anxiety instead of a warm blanket.

“You're more than that Yule, and you know that as to why it brings you so much remorse on how opposite their actions towards you with your real, actual worth.

You no longer have to be so hostile towards yourself, I'll be here every step of the way to lead you back whenever you go astray from what's doing you good.”

Like a good nudge to her timid figure, it nudged Yule to his side of the bed more, more certain with her full concentration on his.

“Their vile treatment of you gives a disservice to your kindness, and you're usually a patient person but you are put to the test when it comes to them.”

Vyn wipes the last of her flowing tears, now turning to a halt as his words assure her.

She feels seen; she feels loved.

“I hope I bring you calm instead of triggering your fight or flight mode.”

Yule laughs, in disbelief at how this is turning her overwhelmed with emotions, but now she feels safe letting her walls break loose as Vyn accepts her vulnerability.

She pulls him close to her chest, to let him know how her heart is beating at a fast pace. At most that he is one of the reasons she wants this heart to keep beating.

And only if she can stop one’s heart from breaking, it would be his, it is Vyn’s heart that she wants to protect with her dear life as well.

“I'm usually under the water, muffled at most, drowning with rage and darkness of an abyss-like pit.

I have been long lost in this labyrinth in my waking life. But upon meeting you, it was as if fate— destiny, whatever force the universe had brought us… I have resurfaced into calm waters.” With every softness she could gather, it is placed with a kiss they share.

“You keep me afloat.”

He kissed her back, and as if eons passed on how profound the feelings scattered across the warmth of both their chests. Tugging and pulling in between the skies and seas, it is left suspended.

Tranquil.

“And you are my anchor, you ground me and keep me safe from straying away. And at last, upon dreading destiny, I have come to love and accept it as it led me to you. Perhaps this was fate.”

And they wouldn't like it any other way.

They keep each other well-balanced.

Besides not getting enough sleep due to insomnia and uneasiness, she’s only able to make up for the lack of it with Vyn beside her. His presence serves as serotonin.

She hasn't had a good night’s sleep for a long while.

Her calm disposition displays the apparent glow of her recovering and getting better in being more liven up. And truly Yule’s more invigorating aura was driven to this point as they have come to a full circle. She comes off more regulated, happier.

She has been trying for so long to get off the seemingly helpless cycle.

Now she has someone quite opposite to her nature to accompany her hand in hand.

Yule is ready to accept and throw anything else that’s disheartening, as love is what's valued above all.

The golden eyes of Vyn brought her back to the ground. Being lifted and carried with such care she no longer felt the cynic air of dismay.

Just gentleness and warmth.

He embodies the tea aroma he loves so much.

He is love.

One wouldn't let oneself be this bare without trust, it is never uncomplicated to lay a doormat to welcome intimacy that easily again. Especially after mishaps after mishaps; the mass of catastrophes had led one’s heart to be numb.

But perhaps, it is love that was felt as to why their walls were torn down beyond the windows of one’s soul. No doubt if they hadn't let themselves be vulnerable, if they didn't try once more— this wouldn’t be their decided fate.

To love an unlovable person, that concept stayed an impossible decree for Yule not till it was proven wrong by Vyn. And for him, to fall in love at first sight when it is one of the most straying thoughts in his system, but then, Yule managed to breach through his walls at first glimpse.

As much as they see each other’s foundation as fallen debris, a dilapidated land.

It gives them hope that people can always start anew, now that they have each other… Together, they can make a home for one another.

※ my masterlist | #enjeiwrites ※

#vyn richter #mo yi #tears of themis #tot #vyn x reader #vyn: paradox series #enjeiwrites

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himalayaan-flowers · 8 months ago

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i woke up with just the most awful anxiety and fear and i'm holding back tears to try not to cry in front of my mum and i know i probably feel worse because i'm not taking my medication but it's like at most that can only make me a bit more numb to reality

i just feel so, so, so alone in an such an unbearable way. i can't tell my family what i'm thinking in case i scare them too. and seeing a family member suffering is agonising. i just keep thinking, whatever i do i will be alone.

if i kill myself? i suppose i'll be dead so i won't care, but i'll be leaving my mum alone. and i can't bear the thought of her feeling alone. my dad would be there but he doesn't give her any support and we barely see my brother. my mum spends more time with me than with anyone else. it terrifies me knowing how crap i am that i'm nearly all she's got.

but if i don't kill myself and my mum passes away eventually i will be in emotional hell. i will truly be alone and it's absolutely terrifying. i'm so scared. no one else would put up with me or truly love me. the only reason my mum loves me is because i'm her child. there's nothing lovable about me.

i suppose i could kill myself after she passes away but then i'm cursed with the guilt of leaving my dad alone if he's still here or if he's not, my brother - he's married but he would lose all his family

i just feel like immense suffering is coming whatever i do and i'm so scared so i just push the thoughts away but i'm finding it harder to do that and i'm so frightened.

i feel like people might say the answer is to find a partner or something but even if i could do that with crippling BDD and OCD with the way i am i don't think anyone could love me because i have nothing to offer. and could i even love them back? i think i probably could but i don't think i could ever not be depressed and that's not fair on anyone.

maybe i just need to find another depressed person to be with but would that even help? would i have the strength to support them? wouldn't i just end up in more pain if i loved them, seeing them in pain?

there is no way i could ever be a parent. even if i wanted that, it'd be immoral because the child would certainly suffer bc of the way i am. i don't even trust myself to become one of those people who has lots of cats or dogs to be less lonely bc i'm scared i'd be too depressed to look after them.

i wish i could just move into an old people's home lol and just lie in bed and rot and i wouldn't starve bc i can't make myself make food and no one would love me but at least there would be people around and i could just watch tv or something to try to forget everything until i'm dead

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the-sappho-of-lesbos · 1 year ago

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I feel safest in my room but it also feels so heavy in here just because of how messy it is. I genuinely can’t even walk on the floor. I’m always stepping on something on my way in and out.

It feels claustrophobic with how much crap I have in here. How much junk ive bought online to fill this void in my body. That I feel guilty for everytime I look at it because I feel like I’m spending money I don’t deserve and that’s not mine. But I can’t part with it either. I have so many clothes I buy from Depop but I don’t even leave the house enough to wear any of them. I want to feel beautiful. I see them online and think maybe this will make me beautiful. But I hate how I look in them. I pick apart my body and my face and my hair and my teeth and get so angry I can’t look the way I want. I don’t have room for all the crap I buy. I don’t wear half the crap I buy. But every day I feel like I’m falling down a hole trying to reach this beauty that will just never come.

Maybe I can be special and do something meaningful buying books to share online. But they are ones already share online. Others are already doing it better. It’s just a waste that I’m doing it. And even then I don’t take good scans or photos. Just blurry uneven messes in my dark room while I sit in the bed I haven’t left for days. Trying to trick myself into thinking I’m actually doing something. That I’m actually worth anything. That I’m not lazy and broken and practically a living corpse.

I feel so unbelievably dead. I wake up and breath and talk only because my body will physically not let me sleep 24/7. I’m lazy and sad and have no will to actually try and get better or live. I just rot away in this room feeling sorry for myself like the insufferable shit I am

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take-it-all-out-w-me · 29 days ago

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I actually need to vent instead of treating this like some kind of regular blog. I feel trapped and unheard even though I have this thing to let it all out. Even though no one reads my posts or actually know who I am, I still feel like I might be exposing myself.

My family's been treating social media like a place where everyone hates me, even when I don't really have a relationship with anyone here or anyone interacts with my posts. I feel like everyone actually IS close to blocking me or tell me to kill myself (it's not like that would affect me much, but yeah.)

I feel even worse at the thought of one of my mutuals recognizing me and feeling like I'm a weirdo, before just blocking my main account. I haven't even revealed much about myself, neither here nor in my main account! I don't even know what I'm worried about. No one actually cares about me. No one would unless I posted worrying things, and, EVEN IF I DID, I'm sure it wouldn't be important for anyone but one person.

I have no personality, I'm not charismatic at all, I don't have a good sense of humor (neither irl nor online), I suck at comforting people, etc. There's no reason for anyone to stick around my account at all, I'm not special in anything. There's some people I follow who understands a lot, and that are really kind people. I love them for that.

But me? Pfft. There's nothing in me that people couldn't find in someone else. They already have people supporting them, they have friends who are better in every sense.

But why am I worrying? No one will give a crap. If they get to know me, they would get away, would block every of my accounts and would try to get away from me.

I not only have no personality, but I also have serious mood swings, SERIOUSLY. I could be ignoring them only because my feelings towards them changed all of a sudden, but then I would feel extremely attached to them again.

I hate myself for that. I can't control it and I hate it.

My mom told me not to have children or friends at all, that “why would I want to make someone suffer that way?" Yeah THANKS FOR MAKING ME FEEL WORSE. THAT'S WHY YOU WERE TOLD TO ABORT ME. THAT WOULD'VE BEEN BETTER THAN BEING COMPLETELY UNSTABLE BECAUSE OF YOU.

NO ONE IN MY FAMILY TREATED ME LIKE A HUMAN CHILD WITH EMOTIONS WHEN I WAS YOUNGER, AND YET THEY'RE THE ONES TELLING ME TO NOT HAVE ANY HUMAN CONTACT BECAUSE I'D TREAT THEM LIKE SHIT?

Holy shit I just hate this. I really want to express my love to someone, a partner or a friend whatever, but I CAN'T. I'm extremely unstable and they wouldn't like it.

My little brother exists tho...

I can't give up. Not NOW (It's not like I was giving up anytime soon, but I also just want to let myself rot in bed and stuff.), I can't do that to him.

I cannot kill myself. I don't want my family to tell him something like "you used to have another sibling but they killed themselves when you were a baby."

I DON'T WANT THAT. But I also can't let myself be the way I am now when he's older. I don't want him to see me like that. At all. I want him to have a better life, I want to encourage him during his infancy, to let him know that there's someone who will understand him in the future.

I know my family will only feed his brain with harmful things. I don't want that for him.

I'm staying here because I don't like the idea of giving up. I want to live, but not like this.

It will get better, but only when I finally get to get away from the thing that's harming me.

#vent post #personal vent #mentally unstable #Alright no one will read this but i needed to actually let myself vent #I need to rest...#THIS IS REALLY LONG NOW THAT I NOTICE HOW THE HELL

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raventarnished · 4 months ago

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I'm just a stray now I just kinda have to accept that people are gonna leave and I'm always gonna feel this again. This abandonment it just hurt extra hard this time. Cause this time I was really in love. My mom and siblings there was never love there so when they all made me feel like shit or abandoned me it was hurtful but they already treated me like crap for awhile. But being left cause your the problem cause the things you went through and finally find love as an adult you stare into a girl's eyes for the first time and feel like yourself like a girl like a lesbian like a woman. Like a dog like a family member we were close like sisters.

Falling in love and being someone's every like that was amazing.

I saved her life so many times and she did mine.

It felt like if the world was to end while we were together that be cause at least I'd spend my last moments with her.

There's so many memory's that just me and her share that are the reason I'm still alive before that I had nothing.

I don't want it to be just memory's I wish she never left.

But I am always seen as violent angry or unstable toxic.

Everyone gives up on the losing dog eventually.

I wish I grew up in a normal household so I could of loved you probably instead of this awfulness that surrounds me.

It feels as is the rot of my younger years has spread to everything I have ever loved and ruined it.

It would of only been the good I could of really built us a future.

Now all I can do is get high.

Rant over I'm gonna go to bed so I can get high tommorow

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tarangelagif · 1 year ago

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#BedRotting

The most influential thing today is bed rotting. It's a phenomenon that's silently affecting our young consumers, talent, industry and creativity.

What is it?

it's when you retreat in bed all day, binge watching online content. You experience this awful feeling inside you. Relieved to have time to yourself but feeling crap from spending all day in bed.

It’s an escapist behaviour accelerated by our smartphones, the shift in social media from connection to endless content (whether it’s good or bad) at our fingertips.

We escape because we are burnt out. COVID may have been the final straw in the rat race. But ultimately the pressure has been building for years.

lets think about here- ridiculous university repayments, unaffordable housing market, the decline of third spaces, job instability and stagnant wages and to TOP it all off - we are on our way to recession

I mean we’re basically wondering “What's the point?”

And so we rot in bed.

Why should you care about it? Why am I on this stage talking to you about Bed Rotting?

Bedrotting isn't just a personal struggle; it's a symptom of burnout, and it's eroding the lifeblood of our industry – our talent. They are the driving force behind work that cuts through the noise and connects with the same young consumers experiencing bedrotting too.

Burnout is the enemy of creativity. Our ability to produce compelling work hinges on the well-being of the creative minds shaping our industry. And I know creativity is important to you or else you wouldn’t be here at Most Contagious right now.

To fix this we need to address the root causes. As an industry, we must implement two fundamental changes:

Mental Health Leave Allowances: separate from sick leave

And Fair Compensation Practices: match salary to inflation. We should be thriving, not surviving.

And I know some people in this room, like myself, are powerless to make those changes. So I will share this with you instead. Especially as someone who admittedly also bed rots.

As a leader. Try harder.

I’m talking about: Celebrating the small wins. Give credit, where credit is due. Prioritise cultivating culture. Get comfortable with talking about mental health. Be an active ally. Push the DE&I efforts forward.

And remember that although you won’t know everything but you’ve gotta try.

Our young talent and consumers are the future of our businesses. Our young talent understands young consumers more than any tool can. When given the support they need, They will be able to create marketing campaigns that drive a genuine connection.

And Connection is key to bringing our audiences out of bed rot and into establishing meaningful relationships and patterns of behaviour. So when our talent creates impactful storytelling, or community building initiatives that bring people together. That is what will cut through to someone's bed rotting. It could change their life. For the better.

Take this away from today: combating bed rotting is battling burnout, not just for our industry and its talent but for the well-being of the communities we serve. It's a fight for the very people we aim to impact. Because what we create is not just advertising, it’s culture and we need to stop.the.rot.

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boneeatingbird · 1 year ago

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My mom is having me move out some of my books because we're living in a very small place, and it's impossible to keep all of them with me. I know this. There's 863 books of mine in storage from our last move, and that number was once 1,092 before we left. Now I have 45 books in a tiny storage space under my bed. And now it is time to find room for them to go to storage for the next ones like one of those butterfly life charts.

But my mom wants some to be thrown out. A few of the more holy ones donated. Ok ok so I might be like a sentimental piece of crap. Or maybe like a hoarder. But how can you tell me to get rid of my books? I don't know how to tell her, someone who just reads for the book's story, about all the other people in my books.

All of these books except a small handful I no longer have are 2nd hand. They're frayed and their bindings are cracked and brittle. Some of them have bookmarks older than I am, and some have scribbles from children I'll never meet. I can tell you honestly that I've lost count of the number of books with handwriting in them, weather it be a relative's well wishes or the reader's thoughts.

Every story i read has another story in it. This one book has childhood scribbles in it from a kid who got their hand's on a parent's book. It has little scribbles and sentences with terrible grammar that say, with many more letters, 'I love my mommy!'

This other book is falling apart at the seams. It's a Good Omens book, one of my favorites I have. Half the pages in the first section have fallen out (and have obviously fallen out many times before if the tape and glue says anything) and some pages have ripples in the paper from tears. Which I'll admit I've added to myself.

And this other book? This book belonged to a library that when I looked for it doesn't exist anymore. It has a sleeve paper on the front with names on it, ranging from normal names to Greasy Gus and Laffy Taffy. Some pages inside have highlighted sections at random, and I'm ashamed to admit that it once had sticky notes inside that I accidentally made fall out when I dropped it.

I can tell you right now some of these books have lived past their author's funerals and have seen their owners pass away quietly before being tossed into a 2nd & Charles free bin with some random mail and highschool text books. These books will outlive me given the chance to continue to age.

I'm not sure if this explains it exactly, I know it didn't for my mother, but all of these little things feel special. They feel like little pieces of someone's soul where they were open and vulnerable because they know a book won't judge them for crying or for adding color to its pages. There was a person that loved these books enough to destroy them. How could I get rid of something that has so much live and pain and wonder inside it? Mom how can I face myself knowing I left a little girls 'I love you's to rot away in a landfill?

I know our time too short for this, and someone won't extend the same reverence to the books I've left myself behind in the same way. Maybe the real world is more important. And maybe these people will never know how much they were loved by a stranger. But they were. They were loved and maybe it's foolish but I want my short time spent treating these souls with the delicate affection they deserve that the paperless world doesn't really allow.

Idk it's really dumb, and definitely takes up too much space. And it's definitely really silly to like everyone around me xD Guess i just wanted to get a little rant out before I have to manoeuvre these books in to storage without breaking them.

#rambles #books #sentimental #like weirdly sentimental #sorry for being cringe #old books #mother: no books for you allex #me: but mom the dead people inside them #mom: bruh wtf #i like big books and i cannot lie #i also like old books #2nd hand books #mainly #anyway #time to hyperfixate

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tylia-plus-leon · 2 years ago

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The Beginning

As the harsh rays of the morning sun invaded the room through the crooked window blinds, Tylia shifted. Her limbs felt heavy as if they were waterlogged and the bed creaked with every turn. Tylia tried her hardest to stay asleep but couldn’t fight her body and begrudgingly opened her eyes. Groggy, she rose to a sitting position, her back slouched and her legs straight out in front of her.

“God… what time is it?” She groaned, reaching for the phone beside her pillow. Tylia tapped the screen twice to turn it on but got no response from the device. She tried again. Still nothing. Confused, she tried to turn it on using the power button. One short press, no response. A longer press and still no response. “What…?” She was certainly starting to wake up now. Tylia rubbed any residual sleep gunk out of her eyes and looked around her room. Previously off-white walls were stained and cracked; vines, flowers and ferns she had never seen before spread throughout her room through any possible opening. Her windows were dusty and her blinds cracked and bent in all kinds of angles.

“What is this? W-where am I? What is going on?” Tylia whispered. She could hear her panicked gasps as fear and anxiety bubbled up in her chest. She hadn’t felt like this since she was in school before she dropped out to become a webtoon artist. She could feel her thoughts closing in on herself when suddenly she heard a loud “meow” from downstairs. “Oh crap, Leon!!” Tylia gasped as she launched herself out of bed, almost face-planting, and rushed down to find her cat. As she ran down the stair her foot falls through a rotted stairstep and she tumbled all the way down to the bottom of the staircase, screaming.

“Ow!” Tylia shouted. Her hands were scratched and bleeding and her leg was bent at a weird angle. Her eyes widened like saucers as she looked at a bone poking through her skin. “oh…Oh. Oh my god, my leg is- I’m going to die. This is the end. It’s not even hurting, maybe I’m already dead.” Tylia sobbed, fat tears rolling down her face.

“God, you haven’t even been awake for 10 minutes and you’ve already hurt yourself? Sometimes I forget how clumsy you are.”

Tylia turns her head to face the person who said that but instead comes face to face with her cat, Leon. A beautiful Maine-coon cat with silky golden fur and a long, lean body. His tail flicked back and forth as he observed Tylia in her dishevelled, tear-stained state. “What?” Leon asked, tilting his head.

“You…can talk?”

“You have a broken leg and you’re more concerned about a talking cat?”

“You can talk.”

“...Please just look at your leg.”

Tylia didn’t know cats could roll their eyes so well. She glanced at her leg, prepared to see the bone but instead everything seemed to be back in place. Her leg had somehow twisted itself back into position and her scratches had closed by themselves. She looked at Leon, her mouth open and eyes wide.

Leon sighed, “Make yourself comfortable and let me explain. There’s a lot you need to catch up on.”

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imjustlostwilly · 2 years ago

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why am i not like everyone else

Yeah, vent post BS after not being active on this account/never being active on this age old account?

Anywhoz

I'm 19, almost 20. My life honestly isn't that bad. I've had so many great opportunities. But I keep getting this crippling feeling...

I'm honestly not very special. I draw, I'm not that good at it. I write, I'm about average. I'm studying criminal justice in college, still in my first year. I have a 4.0 so far, although that's not saying much since I was a digital design student in my first semester.

I stay at home all day. I don't do... ANYTHING. EVER. My teeth are rotting out because I've never taken very good care of them. I don't like milk, so I guess they're just weaker than most people's? That's the best reason I've ever gotten from a dentist, they never really care, they just want to lecture me about not taking better care of them and how I should care and blah blah blah, like I don't know. I know perfectly well I should take care of my damn teeth, I'm just physically incapable and always have been.

So my teeth are shit, compared to everyone else's perfect smiles. Even my friends with mental health issues take care of their teeth better.

But my crap teeth aren't my vent.

I want to be like every other college student. I don't technically have a car (it's been a work in progress for months and it doesn't seem like my dad will take me to work on it anytime soon). I technically don't have a full driver's license either, just a learners permit. But I want to go on road trips and do fun spur of the moment things. I want to go party, and be able to drink and make new friends.

I want to have fun and 'have the time of my life'.

I want to be able to go outside and not be anxious. I want to... just... Do! I want to do things!

I want to fix my stupid teeth and be able to make out with strangers and make mistakes without having to worry about who will make sure my dad's safe and that I'll still have a home to come back to.

I feel like I'm missing out on important things, big things. I have nothing but time and I fill it with... watching TikTok and playing tv in the background. I don't even really play games honestly. I don't really read (despite having a room filled with books that I want to read). I don't do anything. I feel like I need to be doing things all the time but instead I just do nothing and stare at my ceiling. I should be working ahead on my classwork or getting ready for interviews and pitches but instead I just don't and I do absolutely nothing all the time. I don't even clean my room really. I don't cook that much either, I generally let my dad do that if we don't get something at a restaurant. I don't shower enough either.

I just... Suck. All the time and I'm wasting my life. I need to stop but I just can't drag myself out of bed and stand for long enough.

#vent post #vent

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senseless-writing · 3 years ago

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A Chance

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x child!reader (oc)

Request: Ooooo what about geralt tackling taking care of a poor Orion with a cold?🥺

Summary: Orion has a cold. Or, at least, that’s how it started. But when things take an unexpected turn down a dangerous road, Geralt questions if he really has what it takes to care for a human child

Warnings: A crap ton of angst. But don’t worry, I’m a sucker for happy ending and tooth rotting fluff :)

A/N: I tagged everyone from “Something New.” But if you want to be removed or added, please let me know!

Masterlist

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

The first time Orion ever looked death in the eyes, she was only eight years old.

And for the first time since Geralt took her in on that cold winter's day, nearly two years past, he wondered if his life was on track to reverting back to how it used to be. How it was before, when the only person he had to care for was himself. When things were easier, simpler, and a hell of a lot quieter.

Back to a life without Orion.

It scared the shit out of him.

Geralt tried to find an inn as soon as he heard her cough. They’d been on Roach when it happened, and it was quickly followed by a round of pitiful sniffs as she rubbed her button nose on the cloak he bought her six months ago. And then, of course, she’d flopped herself back against his chest and whined.

“I’m dyingggg,” she drawled, coughing once more.

The right corner of Geralt’s lips lifted in a smile. “Is that so?”

“Yes, I am. Can’t you see? I’m clearly in pain here.”

“Hm. What I see is a little girl with a cold and an imagination too big for her head.”

Almost immediately, Geralt laughed at his own joke, because he could see the tips of Orion’s ears flushing red in anger. Or, perhaps, annoyance.

“Oh, ha ha,” she sniffed, and the witcher could practically hear the scowl on her face. “You think you’re so funny, don’t you? You wouldn’t if you knew what it actually felt like to be sick.”

Geralt let go of Roach’s reins to wrap his arms around her and squeeze until she whined and pushed at his arms. “You poor little human child. Doomed to a life of misery with no one who understands you.”

Orion huffed, and made a whole show of slumping over in defeat. “Fine, clearly you don’t care. I guess I’ll just suffer in silence.”

“Oh, I seriously doubt that.”

And he was right, at least for a while. She whined and coughed and sneezed loud enough for the whole forest to hear. But eventually, her coughs became more rough, and her sullen complaints fell silent. That’s when Geralt knew it was time to be concerned.

He could feel her whole body shudder against his chest when she coughed. And her skin, despite the chill, was warm to the touch. Perhaps she really was as sick as she said she was. His first thought was to change their route in favor of the closest inn. Sure, there wasn’t any snow on the ground, but winter weather could be brutal, and it was easy for a witcher to forget that a few nights in the cold was enough for a human to feel the effect.

But hours later, still on horseback, it was clear that they wouldn’t be making it to any inn on that night. They’d been too deep into the woods by the time Geralt decided to change their course, and with the sun setting steadily, the last thing he wanted was to be stuck wandering in the dark with a miserable child. He had to set up camp, and he had to do it there.

She’ll live, he thought idly. There was a bit of guilt, sure, but not much. She’ll make it one more night, roughing it out here with me. We’ll get to the inn by tomorrow for sure.

So he found a spot he liked and dismounted from Roach, helping a grumpy Orion down with him. She sulked away to sit under a nearby tree as soon as her feet hit the floor.

“Another night on the forest floor,” she groaned. “I thought you said we’d get to sleep in a bed tonight.”

Geralt, still un-tacking Roach and pulling their stuff from his bag, let out a sigh. “I can make you a bed of grass to sleep on if you’d like.”

“I didn’t know witchers had a sense of humor.”

“I didn’t know stuffy noses made little girls turn bratty.”

“I’m not a brat, Geralt,” she whined, and he turned to give her a sharp look. Orion returned it with a pitiful one of her own. “I really don’t feel well.”

The witcher’s eyes softened as he walked over, tossing a blanket and water pouch into her lap. “I know you don’t. Put that on, and drink some water. Are you hungry?”

“No,” Orion grumbled in between small sips.

“Alright. I’m going to work on building this fire, and you’re going to close your eyes and try to get some rest. How does that sound?”

The raven haired girl didn’t respond, instead tucking herself deep into the sheepskin Geralt gave her. But the witcher took that as an agreement, and gently patted her head, before turning to continue his nightly routine.

Lay out the blankets, brush down the horse, set up the fire. It was at least an hour before he could finally sit down and check on Orion again. She looked alright, albeit still a little warm, but nonetheless sound asleep. He wasn’t sure if whatever she had would clear out by tomorrow, but doubted it would last more than a day or two.

Either way, he’d done everything right. She was hydrated and resting, and as warm as he could possibly make her. With her head resting on his lap as he leaned against a tree, and his eyes closed for the night, Geralt was sure that today was a success for him as a make-shift guardian.

Things weren’t meant to go the way they did.

When he awoke in the middle of the night, he immediately knew that something was wrong. At first, he couldn’t figure out what it was. In fact, he wasn't even sure what woke him. So he did what Vesemir taught him to do: sit still, listen, and observe.

The fire had died down hours ago, as he could just barely smell the smoke in the air. Roach was standing off a few feet away, but he knew she was sleeping from the rhythm of her heart. And there wasn’t a monster nearby, that much Geralt was certain of. His senses were too trained to miss such a thing.

It was like a flash going off in his brain. Some sort of sixth sense that manifested before he even knew it was there. A sense that only a guardian, a father, could experience.

Because Orion—small, headstrong, and cute as a button Orion—was trembling in his arms. And apparently, his subconscious knew it long before he did.

“Orion?” he sat up at once, cupping her cheeks in his hands. Her face was hot, red hot, and flushed of all color entirely. Sweat pressed her raven curls to her forehead, her chest shuddered with every breath she took, and Geralt’s cat eyes allowed him to see the light tint of blue on her lips, even if the stars were the only thing lighting the night sky.

He pulled her completely into his lap with frantic hands, holding her close to his chest. “Hey,” he shook her, tapping her cheeks to get her to look at him. “Can you hear me, girl?”

Her eyes opened slowly, uncertainly. She looked at him without seeing, and her shaky hands raised to cling to the wrists that held her face. They felt like icicles against Geralt’s skin.

“I know, I know,” he shushed her when she moaned in pain. She tried to tuck her face to his neck, but he wouldn’t let her. Not until he knew what she needed. “What hurts? Tell me what hurts so I can fix it.”

“Everything,” she cried, but it came out more as a hoarse whisper than anything else. “Everything hurts.”

Geralt fished out the water pouch from between the blankets underneath them, quickly unscrewing the cap and holding it to her shaking lips. Orion tilted her head away in distaste.

“Cmon, Orion, you have to let me help.”

She coughed again, a dry, hollow sound. It rattled her lungs so deeply that she lurched forward in Geralt’s arms to try and ease the pain in her chest. The witcher helped her sit up, patting her back in the hopes of making it stop, but nothing seemed to work. She just kept coughing, coughing until she was blue in the face and the only thing he could do was pull her close and pray to whatever gods that were out there to let her breathe.

“Slowly,” he whispered in her ear. “You’re alright, just breathe slowly.”

But she wasn’t alright, and she couldn’t breathe, and Geralt didn’t know what to do. Orion was sick, sicker than he’d initially thought. And the guilt of doing nothing about it, of spending another night in the cold while he sat on his ass and did nothing, was enough to drive him mad.

He wouldn’t allow himself to do it a moment longer.

“Alright,” he let out a frantic sigh. With a grunt of exhaustion, he stood with Orion still in his arms. He held her close to his chest, with one arm wrapped around her back while the other cradled her head to his shoulder. “We’re going to go, alright? We’re going to go, and I’m going to find you someone who will make it better.”

The little girl groaned in pain as he bent down to throw their stuff into bags. Roach, having been rudely awakened, huffed and stomped her hooves as Geralt struggled to tack her up with one hand. His hands were shaking—with adrenaline, rage, or fear, he wasn’t sure—but not as bad as Orion’s were. He could feel them wrapped around his neck, frail and shaky and struggling to hold on.

How could she have become this ill in only a matter of hours? How could he have not noticed?

He’s never disassembled a camp so quickly in his life. Within minutes, the only evidence of them being there was the remains of their burnt-out fire. Quickly, Geralt found a way to mount Roach with Orion still in his arms. It was awkward, and uncomfortable, but necessary. She couldn’t even hold herself up anymore, and the witcher resorted to cradling her in his arms as he urged the mare forwards.

Even wrapped in all the blankets they had, Geralt could still feel Orion trembling as they rode. He simultaneously tucked her in tighter and kicked Roach to move faster. He didn’t like how far they were from the nearest town, which is why he hadn’t made the journey there in the first place.

But there wasn’t much of an option now.

-----------

They rode until dawn, and they rode in relative silence. Geralt wanted to say something, wanted to apologize or sooth her or…something. But he couldn’t. Partially because he didn’t know what to say, and partially because he was too busy listening to her breaths.

They were unsteady and muffled. Erratic, even.

And even if he could find the words to say, it’s not like she would hear them. By this point in their ride, Orion was delirious with fever. Sweating through her blankets, trembling in the cold, and mumbling words Geralt couldn’t understand, even with his sensitive hearing.

By the time he finally reached the small town he knew would be waiting for them, Geralt wasn’t sure if Orion was with him anymore. And the people of the town, they watched him. They watched as a white haired witcher carrying a bundle of death rode through their streets, frantically searching for someone to fix the mistake he’d made.

The residents of this town took pity on the poor witcher. An old man, probably half Geralt’s age, approached Roach with a soft face and raised hands.

“Excuse me, sir, but can I assume you’re looking for a doctor?”

Geralt’s whole body deflated at the man's kind-hearted concern. “Yes. Yes, you can.”

“Well our doctor, Lana, she never sleeps. I can take you to her home, if you’d like.”

The witcher nodded once, a desperate “please,” falling from his lips before the man was mounting his horse and leading them forward. The two rode as swiftly as the streets would allow, dodging the few shop owners who rose with the sun to start their days.

In less than a minute, they arrived at a house that Geralt assumed to be Lana’s. It was an old stone cottage, covered in vines and seemingly tilted on its side. In fact, the whole house seemed as if it was seconds away from collapsing, but that didn’t stop him from kicking the door in with all the strength he had.

“Help, please! I need some help here!”

A small woman rushed in at once. Geralt didn’t notice any of her features, didn’t even notice she was there at first. Not until her pale hands were pulling at the girl in his arms.

At once, the witcher was pulling away, clinging to Orion in a desperate manner. That’s what he’s been doing for the past three hours, and he wasn’t prepared to stop now.

“You have to let me take her,” the woman, Lana, said in a soft voice. Her hazel eyes met his own, tinted gold, and she gave him an encouraging look. “If you want me to make her better, you have to let me work.”

Geralt relented his grip on the girl after a moment's hesitation. He watched Lana take her and lay her on a nearby table. “Please be gentle,” he muttered, almost as an afterthought.

“I promise I will be.”

And she was. Geralt made sure of it. He sat by Orion’s side with eyes like a hawk, carefully monitoring Lana as she assessed her. He couldn’t find the words to ask what she was doing when she jogged across the room to her cabinets, pulling out herbs and oils and other things he didn’t recognize. Vesemir would be embarrassed by his lack of understanding about herbal medicines, and maybe he knew more than he was letting on. But in that moment, Geralt had never felt more clueless.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Lana asked him, her eyes focused on the bowl of ingredients in front of her.

“She had a cold. It was—I thought it was a cold. But when I woke up about three hours ago, she was like this.”

The doctor raised her eyes to meet his own for a moment. “Three hours ago?”

Geralt’s whole face sharpened until his gaze was dark enough to frighten the bravest of souls. He knew what she was implying. “I had to get us here,” he said through clenched teeth.

“You’re a witcher, yes? Can I assume you two have spent the last few nights on a forest floor?”

A fire crawled through Geralt’s veins. “If you have something you’d like to say to me—”

“I don’t,” Lana paused again to look at him with an understanding expression. “I don’t presume to know better than the guardians of my patients. I just need to know all the facts so I can treat her properly.”

“The facts are that she had a cold. It was a cold that turned into a cough, that turned into…this. She became delirious about an hour ago and hasn’t been lucid since.”

“Alright, then, our focus is on breaking the fever. This should help,” she motioned towards the concoction she’d made. Geralt flinched as he watched her tilt Orion’s head back, pinching her nose and forcing the mixture down her throat.

“That’s it?” he asked, gripping Orion’s hand like it was his only lifeline. Perhaps it was. “That’s all you’re going to do?”

Lana didn’t look the slightest bit offended at his tone. “That’s all I can do. The herbs I gave her should attack the fever while simultaneously clearing the congestion in her lungs. I’d like to get some cool rags on her pressure points to aid them in that process. But other than that, all we can do is wait.”

Geralt could hardly focus on her words. The whole waiting thing, it wasn't really his style. Especially not when it came to Orion. He was meant to be her caretaker. He was meant to keep her safe, keep her happy. But he’d failed today. He could only hope, with the grace of destiny, that he’d be given another chance to make this right.

That he’d be given another chance to care for her, and to not fail at it.

They spent another 30 minutes in that tense limbo of confusion and discomfort. Geralt watched as the doctor laid wet rags across the eight-year-old’s forehead, wrists, and back of her neck. The panic he felt as he sat there was unmatched. No monster of any fang or claw, no drunken mercenary with something to prove, nothing compared to sitting still and waiting for his little one to hurry up and get better or die.

Eventually, he couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t take the stiff silence in the air, or the burning hole of Lana’s gaze on his back. Geralt suggested that she get some rest, offering to stay awake and change Orion’s rags periodically, and to watch her breaths for any signs of change. It was a desperate move to finally be alone again, and it worked. Within ten minutes, the doctor had retired for the night, and the witcher was once again alone.

Alone with Orion, and alone with his mistakes.

-----------

Geralt spent twelve hours contemplating what his new life without Orion would look like.

Twelve hours picturing his life without her smile. Without ever seeing the way it spread over her whole face, or the way her eyes crinkled into nothing at all because her smile was just that big. Or without teasing her for the missing teeth that were still struggling to grow in.

And he thought about how rarely he would laugh once she was gone. Before Orion, he could go weeks without authentically letting out a laugh. But now, he couldn’t count how many times he did it in a day. She was constantly helping him find the joy in things, even if he pretended the opposite was true.

He was going to miss everything about her. The big things, the small things, and everything in between. That’s what he thought about for twelve hours in the tilted doctor's hut as he dressed and redressed her damp rags.

But when Orion shifted underneath his gentle hands, successfully snapping him from his spiral of self-pity, Geralt nearly felt his heart crack under the pressure he’d been forcing himself to carry.

“Orion?” he called to her softly. Her face had gained back most of its color, without even a hint of blue in sight. He hadn’t noticed that before, having been too immersed in his grief. “Can you hear me? Go on, open your eyes, girl, I’m right here.”

She flinched away from his voice at first. From that, and the soft candlelight coming from her bedside. Her senses seemed to be on overdrive, and every little thing sent a wave of pain washing through her. But she could feel the gentle hands caressing wisps of hair from her forehead, could recognize who’s hands they were in an instant, and she knew she wasn’t alone.

Geralt was there for her like he always was. Like he promised he always would be.

“Geralt,” she sighed, her obsidian eyes meeting his.

Once again, words were beyond him. Really, what was there to say? What could he possibly come up with that would make up for the past day?

But Orion, ever the wordsmith, wasn’t content with sitting in silence. “Gods, my chest hurts,” she groaned, giving him the best smirk she could manage. Her eyes quickly flashed across the room in confusion. “Wait, where are we? I thought we slept outside last night.”

Geralt stuttered, cleared his throat, and tried again. “We, uh—we did. You don’t remember anything after falling asleep?”

Her eyes fluttered in thought, before looking back at him. “Not really, no.”

“You got worse. Much worse. I thought…it was touch and go for a while.”

Orion seemed to contemplate what he said for a moment, with furrowed brows and thoughtful eyes. A moment passed, and then another, before she looked at him with a glint in her eyes that nearly knocked the breath from his lungs.

“I guess I got to spend the night in a bed after all.”

Geralt nearly blew a fuse. “You’re not funny, Orion. Not even in the slightest.”

“I wasn’t trying to be,” she defended herself, but an amused chuckle slipped from her lips anyway. It got stuck somewhere in her throat, though, as it was still sore from the hours she’d spent struggling to breathe. She coughed to try and clear it out, and a surprisingly panicked expression fell across her face.

Orion opened her mouth to say something; to call out for Geralt, maybe. Or perhaps to apologize for being stupid and making jokes after being told she’d almost died. But nothing came out, because she was too busy trying to catch her breath. Still, her witcher knew what she needed.

“It’s alright,” he cooed, moving to support the back of her head. “Take it easy, it’ll come back. Just relax.”

She tucked herself tighter in his arms, leaning at an awkward angle to press her ear to his chest. Geralt tried to speed up his breaths to match that of a normal human’s, though it didn’t really work. His heart still beat slower, and although Orion couldn’t exactly match her rhythm to his own, it calmed her down all the same.

They stayed that way for minutes on end. Orion taking in Geralt’s warmth, and Geralt running his hands through her unruly curls while trying to remind himself that she was alright.

“I’m sorry for almost dying,” she said at last. It was merely a whisper, but Geralt heard it anyway. He rested his cheek on the top of her head and sighed.

“I’m sorry for almost letting you.”

“But you didn’t. If you had, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

“I almost didn’t get you here in time.”

“But it’s all okay now, right?” she looked up at him with wide eyes. “We’re here, I’m going to get better, and everything will go back to normal. Right?”

It was then, in that moment, that Geralt was reminded of the most important lesson of all. The greatest thing Orion had ever taught him during their time together, something you must know if you ever stood a chance of being a parent worth having.

And that was to always, always, put your child’s needs before your own. To be selfless, even when it feels impossible to do so. It was something he’d struggled with at first, having lived a whole life caring for no one’s needs but his own. But now, with her under his care, Geralt had learned what needed to be done to make sure Orion was happy.

So that’s why when she looked at him like that, as if he’d single handedly hung the stars in the night sky, he knew what he needed to do. He needed to put his feelings aside, to swallow his grief and self pity and deal with it on his own time, because reassuring her had to be his first priority.

That’s what she needed from him.

“That’s right. Everything’s going to be okay now.”

He could feel her deflate in his arms at those words. And with that came his own relief. Because for once in what felt like a very long twenty-four hours, the two of them were finally both at ease.

“Geralt?” she asked again, and he hummed at her in response. “Can we spend another night here, or at an inn? With a bed?”

The witcher chuckled and let her slip from his arms, lying her back down and resting a hand on her forehead. She was still warm, but not alarmingly so. “All the nights in our future are going to be spent at an inn. With fire, clean water, and everything else we need.”

She looked slightly alarmed. “Well, I don’t want to stop sleeping outside altogether. That’s how life is on the path.”

“On the path, hm?” his left eyebrow raised. “How about this. Once you’re better, things can go back to how they were. Except, I work on finding you a warm place to sleep more often than I do now. How does that sound, oh mighty witcher?”

Orion’s whole face broke into a smile, like the one he’d been missing so dearly while she slept. A wide, toothy grin with squinted eyes and crooked lips.

“That sounds good,” she sighed, before relaxing her face entirely. Her eyes slipped closed, and Geralt leaned forward to press a soothing kiss to her temple.

“Sleep, Orion,” he whispered in her ear. “And when you wake, everything will be better.”

And it was. When Orion woke, everything was better, and Geralt was grateful for the chance he’d been given.

A chance to learn, and a chance to do better.

Tags: @risenqueen-1521 @antisocial-thing @nayderz @yamihere004 @dreamy-caramel @planet-ashtroid @the-sky-writes @firexfate @yorkeylover @britty443 @gluepoo @jakeyjellybean

#the white wolf #the witcher #the witcher x reader #the witcher x daughter!reader #the witcher x oc #Geralt #geralt of rivia #orion #reader fic #OC fic #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt x daughter!reader #geralt of rivia x daughter!reader #geralt x oc #geralt of rivia x oc #the witcher x child!reader #Geralt of rivia x child!reader

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bashinglanterns · 3 years ago

Note

I am dying for Drayton sawyer content anything will do idc if it’s sfw, nsfw, fluff, headcanons, one-shots, please anything (preferably with an s/o who uses he/him)

AN: This is… so fucking late. If you see this anon, I’m sorry ;n; Aside from general struggle, when I was finally getting my crap together to actually continue writing, one of my really close friends drowned in an ice lake. I’ve had this piece sitting in a Doc for some time now because I haven’t been confident with the quality of it, all things considered, and have been dreading the thought of posting anything.

Anyways, sorry, I don’t mean to push and shove my emotions/problems towards anyone. I did not go through this and check for errors, sorry for quality and lack of ideas, my brain is rotting.

(I think I generally do better with direct requests so I do apologize)

Company pt.1

TW: Mentions of cannibalism

Growing up in such a strict environment is what really pushed his feelings to the surface, even now, living largely unburdened of guidance, he struggled to snare previously hidden emotions amongst the chaos. It was rough.. Caring for his younger siblings alone and all. Often they’d all go to bed hungry or with little in their tortured stomachs and Drayton felt horribly responsible. Like he hadn’t given it his all, but what all was there to give out in the middle of nowhere? The garden was wilting, no longer able to produce and the gas station hardly saw a lick of life. There were notably less people when the hotter Texas summer days rolled around. On days like these, everything hid away; the water, the wildlife and anything in between.

There was not a sliver of food, not until you stopped by in that bruised and beaten truck one early afternoon all by yourself. God had slathered you in sweat and served you right up to Drayton on a golden platter; a reward for all his hard work.

Though, as it turns out, the cook found you more than just a meal, perhaps he saw you for what you really were: another warring thought in the back of his mind, strangling the bad parts of him slowly, a feeling he didn’t take well to. You made his stomach run in loops and his mind grow numbly quiet.

—--------------------

Torrid waves of air forged distant dust devils as you drove down the desolate road. Being here, in the middle of nowhere, was just asking for something to go wrong. Without any help for miles, one wrong turn could leave you stranded at death’s door. It wasn’t devoid of crops. There looked to be a lot of old farmland in the area, overfilled with sick and wilting vegetable harvest. Most of them were gasping under the sun’s gaze, splotched with leaf scald.

Occasional roadkill was cooking under the heat but still it looked as though there was not a building in sight. Your vehicle kicked up big clouds, blinding the past.

It was now that you began to wish you’d taken the last town stop that you’d blown by earlier. Heat waves blurred the road ahead, giving it a sweaty appearance.

A few more hours into the drive and things were beginning to look better.. More lively, more green. It was still very hot but where cornfields looked more tended, you prayed to find some small stop. Even though you’d finally made it to an actual road, you were growing very low on gas. You silently told yourself it was fine. If it got really bad, you had an extra thing of gas sitting in the bed of your truck.

Aha! Finally you spotted a few rather crumbly looking buildings in the distance. You hoped one was a gas station. The closer you got, the more run down and abandoned the structures all appeared.. Perhaps they were all just paint peeled from the high temperatures. You kept hoping.

As it would turn out, one of the buildings wasn’t entirely empty after all and it just so happened to be a gas station, albeit a small one that you’d eventually find had no gas. The sign on the building read Cocacola and We Slaughter Barbecue. Still, you weren't sure you’d find anyone inside. It felt like an odd place to have a gas station- how many people actually passed through here?

Pulling in, your truck sputtered to a stop. Judging by the sound, you knew it would be difficult to start up again later on. Ignoring that thought, you threw on a baseball cap to protect yourself a bit from the sun before stepping out of the old vehicle. You tried to look through the large window which was attached to the front of the building, but quickly determined you couldn’t see anything so you’d just have to try the door.

You didn't expect it to open. It did and it rang a bell in the process. The sound didn’t bring anyone to the counter, but it was clear there was someone here. A glass of water with ice cubes sat atop the meat counter. In that case, as long as you found whoever was working here, you’d definitely grab a few things before heading out. Barbeque certainly sounded appetizing after being on the road on an empty stomach for so many hours.

You figured it would be best to wait it out, so you walked around the shop, eyeing all the goodies. You picked up a few small snacks for the road and set them aside. Then you grabbed a bottle of coca cola from the small fridge and set them all on the counter, awkwardly standing around for a while. There was a fan going behind the counter, yet another way you knew there was someone here recently. You began to wonder how long you’d have to wait, but you were soon met with an answer when a man walked through the front door of the station. He looked just as surprised to see you as you were to see him.

“I sure hope you were planning on paying for all that.” He states plainly when the surprise washes away. Of course you planned on paying! Why wouldn’t you? Well…. He hadn't been around and honestly you could have taken some items and left without him noticing. Not that you would have, but it was an observation and probably the main thing to give him reason to bring that up.

“Don’t be getting nough’ money round’ here for any thieves…” He moved to go behind the counter where your snacks were sitting.

“I’m paying, I’m paying.” You put your hands up to offer some non offensive gesture. “You get a lot of thieves down here?” you add on, curiously.

“Enough unwelcome company, can’t ever afford to fill them damn tanks out there.”

“I was actually about to ask about that. Are you all out of gas?”

“Won’t be getting any, no time soon.”

“Darn.” You fiddled while pulling the wallet from your back pocket. “I’ll just have to make do with what I do have..” Despite being the only one here, you couldn’t help but notice that the man seemed a little restless and impatient. That was until you mentioned buying some bbq as well, that seemed to settle him and even lighten his uptight mood a bit. You meant no harm here, but it was clear he had dealt with rotten eggs driving on up from time to time. Or that’s how it seemed anyway.

“Ok… So uhh… you still doing barbeque? It’s fine if not, but this is the only place I’ve seen in awhile and it does sound awfully nice, whatever meat you have.”

“All we have right now is ribs. We’re number one!”

You smiled, your growling stomach aching more now. “I’ll take some of those and all of this…” you gestured to the items you’d set on the counter. He took a second to ring up the price which was far more expensive than it should have been. You let it pass though, considering this was probably still the only stop nearby. Besides for a place like this one, prices had to be high otherwise there was no way this man would be making any money! When you handed him the cash, he held it out in front of his face with a stupidly big grin.

-:-:--------

“These are so good.” You continued stuffing your face, somewhat embarrassed by his stare. He was watching you so intensely with that proud yet sheepish smile of his and those damn eyes. They held an expression that made him very hard to read… it was like an uncomfortable gleam almost, but he appeared satisfied all the same. Very difficult to place or explain.

“You must raise some incredible pigs… perfect for this type of thing, right?” You asked, licking some sauce from your fingers.

“Only the best of the best.”

The silence opened countless opportunities for you to speak with the other, but all the questions rattling your brain were interrupted by the sound of a phone ringing across the station. As he went to answer it, you couldn’t help but listen in to the conversation. You knew it was none of your business, but you wanted a better read on him so that maybe by the time he got back, you’d have more ideas to strike up a conversation.

—--------------

AN: Alright, alright. Before you get mad, I know this was a terrible place to leave off. Although I had some ideas in mind, I didn’t want to continue if no one was interested in the way I portray Drayton. Writing for him is super difficult, I feel like I don’t have much to work with as I still (unfortunately) haven’t seen the very first TCM (I’d love to watch it, just not sure where) I figured I’d post what I had so far and if anyone was interested they could just request a part 2. Sorry for the lack of action, I’m scared of writing characters wrong.

SI:

A Well Respected Man - The Kinks

#no cause what is this #my writing #drayton sawyer x reader #drayton sawyer #tcm #ttcm #slashers #slasher #slashers x reader #horror #drayton #slasher writing

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stickynotestoletters · 4 years ago

Text

ugggh so I am a dirty little slut for sal fisher and I had a thought about it sooooo,,,,

Sal Fisher x GN (masc body) headcanons of what he's like with you

this is gonna be very heavily influenced by the fact I am sleepy and really wanna write this rn!

Warnings: Non-canon-compliant (Sal lives, Larry lives, Todd doesn't go crazy, no murder), some NSFW stuff, switch-bottom leaning Sal, Service Top Sal

Highschool

When he first meets you he's, hands down, the most flustered he's ever been before

Like, he's really into you

He just sees you in the hall and immediately blushes

he goes around his days as usual and stuff still but now he's eyeing you whenever you come into view

it's cute, he looks like a little kitten peering at you from around the corner because he’s too shy to say something

Larry makes little jokes about it and always tells him to talk to you

"wow, what a stalker" is his usual line when he finds Sal looking at you from somewhere

he musters up the courage to talk to you in his junior year when you wear a Sanity's Fall's shirt to class one day

from then on you two talk together whenever you have class and stuff

your parents move into the apartments in your senior year because of a demotion and you and Sal start hanging out outside of school

He finally asks you out on the last day of senior year

You and the gang go out to the football field the night after graduation

after they clean up all of the equipment for the stage

You guys end up smoking a blunt because Larry brought some of his stash and, hey, what's the harm?

You and Sal end up laying in the middle of the field while Larry chases Ash and Todd around on the bleachers

They're laughing and howling at the moon so you two just listen

Sal takes his mask off cause he feels more comfortable laying with it off

He takes out his pigtails and you comb through his hair for a bit

You look him in the eyes and just stop brushing your fingers through his hair long enough for him to look up at you

your eyes both meet and you two just stare

You see the stars in his eyes

Sal just thinks "You're the prettiest person I've ever seen"

"what?" "uhhhh....nothing"

"It's okay Sal!" You giggle at him and he giggles too

you both start giggling at each other and you two hug each other

still, just facing each other, heads tucked into shoulders, chests pressed so tightly together, legs intertwined

It's calm

He feels safe

So safe and warm

It's wonderful

So he sighs and says" I think I'm in love with you"

And it's an accident

He doesn't regret it, not processing it until you say "I'm in love with you too silly"

And you stay like that

no panic or guilt

just tucked away into each other

The gang goes to 7/11 that night-morning really it is 3 am-and get slushies

all of them are teasing you guys as you hold hands on the way there

it's cute

He's cute

You're cute

You both feel warm in the jackets you switch from each other

it's cute

"God the stalker finally got the victim in their clasps, another tragically happy ending" "Shut it Larry Face"

College

You both end up staying in different places after high school

You take a year off college and stay with your parents at Addison Apartments and Sal moves into the gang's house

It's nice, you see each other regularly for dates and ghost hunts

it's blissful

Then Sal starts having his nightmares again and you come over regularly for sleepovers

it's months into this routine of going home, getting new clothes from the apartments, go out with Sal, come and sleep at his place to help with nightmares, repeat that Larry has the most brilliant idea

"Why don't you just move in with Sal? You practically live with him anyway."

This is in front of you two, you're both at the gang's house and drinking some morning coffee

Sal not really jokes and agrees

And then you genuinely agree

It's a big moment for you two

Sal wanted you to move in right away but was scared his nightmares would affect you or you two wouldn't end up working out

So you two complied and stayed where you were

But this is gonna be an actual conversation where he is up for it and knows you two are stable

So you talk about it

You two agree

And you end up moving in that day

it's not that hard since most of your clothes are over there already

It's basically just moving your bed, knick-knacks, and bookshelf in so that's just the big things since you have a queen

It's bliss from there

you both settle into a nice routine and after you start college Sal decides to focus on his music for rn and take a break

You get a job and the dynamic is just... so pure

you guys are finally, finally, okay and the best thing is that you're together

He's still adorable and you're still sweet

You guys end up getting your own apartment outside of Nockfell and Addison Apartments

The gang stays around

Larry ends up moving in with you two for a little bit until he can afford his own place

Sal gets a lot more gigs out there in the city than he would have gotten in Nockfell and you get a job at a little club

Sal ends up playing there often because of you

NSFW headcanons

Okay so Sal is a hopeless romantic

before he moved to Nockfell he never really had anybody else who was interested in him

so he was super hopeless in planning your first time together

once you had slept over with each other a couple of times he makes this grand layout and waits for you to walk in to see him spred on the bed, clad in some cute underwear and nothing else

turns out though you were sick and sent Larry to tell Sal you couldn’t come over cause your phone was dead and you didn’t wanna get him sick

So Larry ends up walking in on a naked Sal and scarying the everloving crap out of him

He makes fun of y'all after that about it

So your first time is honestly uneventful after that whole fiasco

Deciding to just causally hook up at his place instead

Sal is a switch but he leans for bottoming

he can top, he's really good at being a service top

He’s not insecure about himself, he’s pretty big for his height *cough* (9.7) *cough*

but he prefers being spoiled and called pretty

loves being called feminine nicknames like "pretty baby" even if he is topping

stuff that's gender-neutral but is more feminine in origin

He likes it when you do it doggy-style if you're topping just cause if you press him into the mattress he can feel you better inside of him

Whines so much when you go faster

really likes getting fucked stupid, he wants his throat to be sore and his ass to be bed-ridden

Loves topping you when you're in his lap straddling him

He really likes to make you do work for a while, guides you and everything until you're breaking

when you eventually end up asking for him to "just fuck me already Sal...please?" He wants tears down your face, crying and desperate for him or else it’s not gonna happen

He ends up fucking into you like a monster from there if you are

loves when you lay on your back and he's on his knees sitting and thrusting into you, pulling you onto his lap

very vocal either way but he laughs and giggles more with you, his moans are less fucked out and more "oh god, yes!" in nature

His sex drive is really high, he could go for hours

If you end up getting tired when he's bottoming he's gonna bounce on your pretty cock and ride you so pathetically

It's so pathetically adorable

but if he's topping and you get tired he usually asks you if he can fuck you to sleep

You end up agreeing only if he cleans you up after

He doesn't have any severe kinks or whatnot

He's really into being breed though

Tie him up too while you do it

he likes gags as well

when you breed him he'll end up feeling bad after you finish and he can't feel it anymore once it's out

So you end up giving him a buttplug after to compromise

Sometimes if he's being a brat you'll tie him up, gag him, and leave him with a vibrator over stimming him

You'll leave him in the room and come back to a crying Sal, salivating and so fucked out without having even cum once

If you're ever being the brat he does the exact opposite

He'll tie you up but make it so you can't close your mouth

You have to be quiet though, he doesn’t want to hear anything louder than breathing and your pathetic whimpers

you're over stimmed to hell and orgasm so much it's difficult to keep awake

but do not fall asleep cause if you don't get through it to the end it won't end (Consensually of course)

He and Larry definitely hooked up once or twice before meeting you so I think he'd ask you to let him in on it

It becomes a regular occurrence until Larry moves out

But when you do have a threesome and he is feeling dominant get ready to not move for the next three weeks

It's nice though and doesn't end up changing the relationship between you three

That's it, I gotta stop before I cream myself into dirtier shit cause I am his slut. I have Sal Fisher brain rot syndrome so I'll definitely make another one eventually. Request some stuff and I'll be happy to write!

Continuation for Threesome hcs here by request

-Laika

#Sally Face fanfiction #Sal Fisher x gn reader #Sal Fisher x male reader #Sal Fisher #Sally Face #Sal Fisher smut #Sal Fisher hcs #Sally Face hcs #Sal Fisher smut hcs

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mads-weasley · 3 years ago

Text

Crazy

Robert Leckie x Nurse!Reader

Masterlist

A/N: Hey y'all! This is apart of the HBO War Secret Santa 21'! This is especially for@multifandomlover01! Merry Christmas! I hope you like it! As always, the only character I own is (y/n). The rest belong to HBO!

Summary: While in the hospital on Banika, Leckie meets and befriends (y/n), a nurse who's in charge of his care. Taking an interest in the soldier, she discovers there is more than meets the eye when it comes to the charming machine gunner.

Warnings: mentions of vomit, blood, enuresis, tooth rotting fluff?

(y/n) - your name

(y/l/n) - your last name

(y/h/c) - your hair color

Robert Leckie was miserable. No, miserable was an understatement. The constant island hopping and generally terrible conditions were greatly affecting him, as they did everyone else. What didn't affect everyone else, however, was the terrible enuresis he had been suffering from since Cape Gloucester. He would go to sleep dry, or as dry as one could be in the jungle, and wake up wet. This constant cycle was enough to get him sent off the line to a hospital in Banika to help this condition he had been suffering from.

After checking into the hospital and getting stripped for any "dangerous" items he could hurt himself with, he took his place on an empty cot. Looking around at the soldiers in the hospital with him, he soon realized this was a psych hospital for people he thought were crazy. It made sense why they took his belt and razor blades now. His mind kept repeatedly asking himself, 'Why am I here?' He knew he wasn't crazy, so why did everyone else think he was?

That night was relatively hard for the machine gunner. His thoughts were stuck on his current situation and his friends on the front lines. Deep down, he was relieved he was off that horrid island, away from death lurking around every corner. When he did happen to doze off, his dreams drifted to the jungles of Guadalcanal.

He shot awake, glistening with sweat, and felt the all too familiar damp feeling of the sheets beneath him. Swallowing his pride, he told a nearby hospital attendant what had happened, and they said someone would be there shortly. When he heard footfalls behind him, he didn't bother turning around before snapping at the figure, expecting it to be Ruttinger.

"Where were you, huh? You wer-"

A feminine voice cut him off. "You're not my only patient, ya' know?"

"Sorry, ma'am. I thought you were someone else." He said turning around and quickly standing up as his face reddened.

When he laid eyes on the mysterious figure, he felt his heart drop to his stomach. Never had he seen a woman as beautiful as the one standing before him. Not even Vera Keller rivaled her smooth skin and bright smile. Her nurse's uniform was so pristine and her (y/h/c) was styled in soft curls falling from beneath her cap. He's disrupted from his staring by a small laugh.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer....." She prompted for his name, raising an eyebrow.

"Leckie. Robert Leckie. B-But you can call me Bob.""

"Okay, Robert. Here is your new clothes. I'll put on the new sheets while you go change."

The reality of the situation feels like a slap to the face as his already rosy blush deepens to blood red shade. He couldn't believe the first interaction he'd had with a beautiful women in years was when he'd literally wet the bed. He vowed to never tell Chuckler or Hoosier about this, knowing they'd torment him eternally for it.

"I'm sorry ma'am."

She just held up a hand as she started stripping the sheets off the bed. "You're fine. You couldn't help it. Anyways, it's my job. This is nothing compared to some of the other things that have happened to me."

"What....other things?"

"Well, I've been puked on, bled on, and my personal favorite, had crap wiped on me."

Groaning at her last statement, he turned and started walking towards the bathroom to change. "And that's my queue to leave."

The laugh that escaped her lips brought a smile on the young man's face. He couldn't resist the urge to glance back at her small figure.

"Thank you...." This time it was his turn to learn her name.

"(Y/n) (y/l/n). Of course, and goodnight, Bob."

"Goodnight, (y/n)."

With a nod, he entered the bathroom, heart racing. After changing, he expected her to still be there, but she was nowhere in sight. As he settled in bed, his thoughts were filled with the beautiful nurse, rather than the horrors that he had witnessed during the war. He drifted to sleep this way, dreaming of his nurse.

As the days went by, (y/n) had been by several times to check up on the Philadelphian. Each time, they had normal conversations as if they weren't in a hospital on a small island in the Pacific, in the middle of a world war. These talks consisted of talking about where they were from and different things they liked. She loved to read, and they had numerous discussions about which authors were the best.

When he divulged that he was a writer, and many other unique details about himself, she felt something stir inside her. She had developed a crush on the sarcastic and charming soldier. Every time they spoke, both wished it could last forever, but sadly, she did have other patients to attend to.

Little did she know, he was feeling the exact same way. Vera Keller had completely vanished from his thoughts and (y/n) took her place in the forefront of his mind. Surprisingly, they had a lot in common, and her spunky attitude drew him in closer with every word that left her mouth. He couldn't help but smile every time she walked in the room or when she would start talking animatedly about something she was passionate about. There was no denying that his kind nurse could make his heart skip a beat and butterflies flutter around his stomach.

One day, when she went to check on him, he was laying on his pillow, just staring blankly at the ceiling. This was completely out of the ordinary. Normally, Bob would shoot up and make a snarky comment the second the young woman would walk in the room. But that day, he showed no interest in anything. Concerned, she slowly walked to his cot and sat down on the edge of it. She opened her mouth to question him but she was abruptly cut off.

"Do you think I'm crazy?"

She was so taken aback by the question, it took her a few seconds to fully process what had been said.

"Of course I don't think you're crazy." She said in a soft voice.

Finally sitting up and looking over at her, he lets out a huff of air. "Why am I here, then? Why aren't I with the other normal soldiers? I-I mean, there has to be something wrong with me, right?"

"Robert Leckie," she started, gently cupping his cheeks, "You are not crazy. You're just as sane as I am."

Closing his eyes, he leaned into her soothing touch, placing one of his hands over her much smaller one. "How do you know that?"

"I just do."

Both of them started slowly inching towards the other and he softly moved his other hand to push a stray hair behind her ear before placing it on the curve of her jaw. They both knew what would happen next, and neither one cared to stop it. Merely inches away, she could feel his warm breath on her face. She closed her eyes, willing her heart to take control, but a split second before their lips meet, the all too familiar call for a nurse echoes through the hospital.

At the call, both freeze. Robert opens his eyes to see a frustrated look on (y/n)'s normally calm face. As much as he wants this moment to continue, he knows it's her job.

"Go," he whispers.

With a short huff, she takes off running towards the source of the call. As soon as she's out of sight, he flops back down on his pillow, letting out a groan as an unfamiliar voice speaks from beside him.

"So close, buddy. So close."

Leckie turns on his side and sees the owner of the voice on the cot next to him. Chuckling, he realized this guy had a front row show of the whole ordeal.

"Yep. So close." He finally responded.

The next few days, he didn't see (y/n) at all, and he was starting to worry about her. It was during this time that the head doctor gave him the go-ahead to go back to the 1st Marines. He was excited to go back and see his friends, but was also disappointed that he didn't get to share anymore moments with the lovely nurse (y/l/n).

When the time for him to leave had come, he was about to get in the jeep when he heard it. It was faint, but it was there. Someone was calling his name. There was only one person who it could be, and the mere thought of her brought a smile to his face. Turning around with his bag in hand, he saw her running towards him.

Right before she reached him, he dropped the bags and wrapped his arms around her when her body collided with his. Pulling away from their hug, she tugged him town towards her by his uniform. Their lips collided and he quickly placed his hands on her cheeks as they shared a kiss that said a million unsaid words and thoughts. Whistles and hoots broke out around them, but they were too caught up in the moment to care. When the kiss broke, both were out of breath. The driver honked and called out to them.

"Sorry, man, but you've got a plane to catch."

With a sigh, he pulled a small piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to her. "You better write me, Nurse (y/l/n)."

"And you better not go crazy without me, PFC Leckie."

"I thought you knew?" He questioned with a cheeky smile.

"Knew what?"

"You're the one who makes me crazy."

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