#shit sorry i forgot the tw

[grellssquishyhusband]

[moon9931]

more

sribbles

@woobab I love the 80's/90's (idk) design for em

im staring respectfully I swear I am 😭🙏

full page

[mars-ipan]

happy early discount chocolate day

[melissa-titanium]

HYDROGEN BOMB vs COUGHING BABY. who is who? up to you...

[littleplantfreak]

Okay, as a certified ume lover (you), I had this thought and decided you had to know too, imagine you end up getting pregnant and ume is like tears and shit and considering his backstory, he genuinely looks at you and loses his shit, and HE WONT EVER LET YOU GO OUT OF HIS ARMS, go everywhere with you, not a step out of the house without him, hugging you more tighter in his sleep cause he doesn't want you to fall over accidentally and end up hurting yourself, he will be there for EVERY single time you are suffering with morning sickness, and hear all the complaint on how much you are peeing and how you can't reach the floor and see your own feet and go behind and lift your belly to lessen the burden and pain on your back as you melt into him. Let's not talk about the fact the baby is born and he gets to hold them? He would melt and have a breakdown so bad that gets the nurses smiling so bad seeing such a reaction from a father, he will be hugging you and kissing you thanking him for giving him this life and OMG IMAGINE MAKING A WHOLE NURSERY ROOM WITH HIM, FILLED WITH BABY SHOES, PAINTING IT, BUILDING EVERYTHING.

Or imagine he gets so overly protective and worries fills his mind when you tell him you are pregnant, and you just sit on his lap and hold his face every so gentle and kissing him between every sentence all over his face and comforting him that it will all be alright and that you know he is gonna be the best father ever and that he doesn't have to go through this whole experience with worries eating him up considering he already experienced losing his mom, dad and his unborn sibling.

OKAY FORGOT TO ADD,

Him just talking to your belly whenever you are sleeping and see it when you wake up and him telling the child to "don't bother your mom so much" while gently kissing it. I AM SO NOT NORMAL ABOUT IT AND I, GENERALLY DONT EVEN THINK ABOUT PREGANANCY, BUT ITS SO DIFFERENT WITH UME, I AM SORRY ‼️‼️

(I didn't read the ask after typing it , so if I made any mistake, my bad bestie)

Nonnie come sit with me on the couch lets chat so much ive got snacks and blankies 😎

I do think although he’s pretty well adjusted when it comes to his past, he WOULD have a few noticeable changes because if you went through what he did who wouldn’t have some residual issues? The tension in his shoulders when you’re both walking in a city or if he hasn’t gotten a text back in more than a few hours while he’s at work? An anxious mess, Hiragi give him some medicine or something. He’s never been so stressed and ecstatic in his life its exhausting for him but he refuses to ever say the stressed part out loud you just gotta talk him through it and be stubborn about it because otherwise he’s trying to take care of you TOO much.

It’s not your pregnancy with him it’s OUR pregnancy he’ll get sympathy sick when you’re puking your guts out or cry like he’s in pain when you get IVs or shots for it (dont even get me started on the epidural i didnt know the catheter stayed IN your back when you got it wtfff till like…last year) best guy to be pregnant with though and he won’t stop talking about how brave and sweet and perfect you are or how pretty you look despite how you feel like none of those words.

He’s ALL up in the delivery room despite the horrors and he’s apologizing profusely when you’re crying that he did this to you and that hes the worst and then you’re like baby i dont really mean that but this is fucking terrible rip he knows you dont mean it and you can squeeze his hand, hit him, yell at him he doesn’t mind at all if it makes you feel even just a little bit better

He tries your weird cravings with you no matter what it is or what time it is. You wanna eat peanut butter and pickles at 3am? Lets go bby we’re taste testing.

He’s getting up in the middle of the night as much as possible when the baby’s born so that you can rest, you have to force him back to bed sometimes because he’s sleep deprived eventually.

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

i need,… snipers t man swag…. please big man

He has a missing tit from a crocodile fight, I will DIE on this hill

[oneroomjestershow]

I did the Character inspiration template with the band members.,.,

I like doing these because my brain hurts trying to remember the things i have watched or read, i literally can't remember shit

Let's say the scenery square was just to fill because i couldn't think anymore

[bonetrousledbones]

question can you infodump about your Little Guys (atbb) to me because ive been following for like a year and i still dont totally understand them past papyrus au. they are really cool tho

oh my god ok so. first off atbb is the acronym for my ask blog @ask-the-bone-boys that's been on hiatus for a little over a year now. it was born in 2018 out of the annoyance of everything au-centered being sans and also a way to explore how the classic "aus get stuck in the original universe" fic trope would go if it was somebody from the "original" story leaving their universe instead. and also an excuse to make papyrus miserable to be fully honest

also also im going to preface this by saying i ship selfcest and there is some selfcest in this story ok if anybody has issue with that then uh. oopsies (i can explain the way i view it at another time if anybody;s interested but im already gonna ramble like hell here so not rn)

with that groundwork laid im gonna put this under a cut lmao dont click this

for the sake of organization- part 1: RUSS

STARTING AT THE BEGINNING so some very basic backstory for this Undertale Papyrus specifically is that he and his brother are twins, they grew up bouncing around several foster homes until they decided to run away to live in the woods on their 14th birthday, where they lived in a bigass tent for three years until Papyrus got badly injured and they had to get help from the townspeople, who uh kinda unofficially adopted them and thats how "they just showed up one day"

then more time passed and around 3 years after getting to the surface Papyrus was booted out of his universe by Mysterious Circumstances. he got a very bad introduction to the multiverse because the place he landed was my own version of horrortale, undermunch. there he meets Spooks!

i have a whole side-fic where you can read in better detail how this goes but basically monsters don't turn to dust in this world and also Spooks is a cannibal, which Papyrus doesn't know until he realizes he was fed spaghetti made out of a rabbit monster. IN addition to that, Spooks has very different magic from other aus, that being it's pretty much all concentrated into a kind of blue-magic-venom that comes out of his teeth like a snake.

Long story short Papyrus has to escape from Spooks somehow, and that's how he learns he's able to move through universes by himself. It still takes him a while to learn how to without being in a life-or-death situation, but that's ok because almost every other universe he goes to after that puts him into a life-or-death situation :>

and then FINALLY he gets spat out into a variation of Underswap, where he meets Honey. this one's a bit spoilery because i haven't finished writing this fic yet BUT its ok because this will be so so so disorganized. anyway so Papyrus is scared of Honey at first because he's been getting completely fucking obliterated by the multiverse (his leg is broken and he's wearing a chest plate he stole from a different papyrus who died in front of him) but Honey is relatively patient with him and lets him stay on his couch on the surface. This is where Papyrus gets the nickname Russ!

Russ is dealing with a broken leg when he shows up in this universe, so he stays with Honey for a little over three months while he recovers from that as well as (some of) the multiverse traumas he'd been collecting up to that point. The main things that he still can't shake are nightmares, trust/attachment issues, and EXTREME food paranoia. he refuses to eat anything he hasn't prepared himself, and even that can be a struggle. Also, because of how long he spent without getting it properly treated, his leg never fully heals.

He starts getting really really homesick the longer he stays in this universe. It builds up over his whole stay, but only starts to get Very Bad after he gets the cast off of his leg. Honey's home is extremely similar to his own home, and sometimes just seeing him and his brother interacting with each other makes Russ upset.

OH I FORGOT TO TALK ABOUT THE CODEPENDENCY ok so at some point Russ just starts completely clinging to Honey and Honey doesn't know what to do about it so he just kinda. unintentionally feeds into it and this turns into Russ sleeping in Honey's bed and blah blah blah eventually this becomes a problem for Honey because he doesn't know how to address Russ's homesickness and clinginess without hurting him somehow even though Honey is extremely stressed and actively burning out

Then Russ overhears Honey venting to Undyne and feels. crushed. And he reacts incredibly rationally! By avoiding Honey as much as possible! But it does not take him long at all to break down and the two finally have a chat about boundaries. They work out a plan together that Honey thinks will genuinely help and Russ thinks will get himself off of Honey's back. The plan is that they'll figure out how to control Russ's world-hopping ability and get him back home.

The idea is that if he's able to control when and how he leaves, he can control where he goes. Then, when he inevitably lands in his home, he'll pop back in Underswap and tell Honey how it went. Because he can control it! Of course!

Honey gives him one of his hoodies and a photo camera to remember him by. Russ tries to figure out what it was in the past that might have helped him jump universes, which was the desire to be just about anywhere other than where he was at that moment. So, he just, thought about going home instead!

And it worked! And he left Honey's universe! And then he realized he didn't land at his home at all! And when he tried to go back to Honey's universe, he went somewhere entirely different as well! And he never saw Honey again! Wahoo!

This is the point where he just becomes a complete mess I'm not gonna lie to you, he starts drinking even though he really really REALLY hates alcohol, he only eats enough to stay conscious, he gets into fights just for the adrenaline rush, and only stays in one universe long enough to confirm it's not his home before either leaving for the next one or collapsing somewhere and hoping he doesn't get attacked while he sleeps for two hours

then he lands in Edge's universe and this needs a part two now OOPS

[qualityrain]

i was unsupervised

edit: desc added from @/princess-of-purple-prose

[impostorsshow]

I couldn't decide if a background and accurate opacity was better,so you get a high visibility one too

Ghost max is by @lizardtheartist

[moss-and-marimos]

you could literally start talking abt the grossest shit in my tags and I'd start clapping honestly pls do ramble

people who dont want to see talk of the intimacy and eroticism of horror and gore dont click read more vbjdhfdfvj

ougugghghhghghg goes wild its the intimacy and inherent eroticism of gore, sorry if this is a bit incoherent im tired but maybe I will dump more in your ask box another time bvjhdfd, for me its a sort of like fucked up thing between trusting the person to put you back together afterwards and wanting to be understood in a way nobody can without literally taking you apart, I guess kinda similar in a way to like wanting people to know about your trauma in a self destructive way, thats what a lot of it is to me that makes it interesting is the art of self destructive clearly unhealthy codependency dynamic between consumer and consumee, test subject and scientist, im not gonna put my own year old poem here bc it needs some revisions vbjdfd but to summarize it talks about being loved through the restraints binding you, and being seen as what you truly are, some mass of meat, and them taking you apart and loving you anyway. they will see you laid bare, more vulnerable than you have ever been, and they will make the choice that you deserve to stay, or in the case of cannibalism that they want you to be their nourishment. That in trusting you to take them apart, you are trusting them to sustain you. its really fucked and interesting to me. The idea that consumption or vivisection or similar are some warped sort of love, the same sort of way that people will abuse others and say theyre doing it because they love you, is very interesting to me. obviously its bad but its the only comparison I can draw here and its an interesting thing to explore in fiction. its a type of love that is obsessive and destructive and painful and violent and thats why its so interesting. And again referring to that poem I wrote last year "and you wish you could be a better test subject. and with the blood on their hands and a smile on your face you thank them. after all your life is in their hands." and "theyve been inside you more times than you can count, and something about that is so appealing. to be taken apart. to be examined. to be understood. oh how invasive. you long for it" and the fucked up eroticism of instead of having like idk bite marks or hickeys or whatever shit on you you're covered in scars from their invasiveness and tests, showing just how much you belong to them and just how well they know to put you back together. After cutting away everything vulnerable, after getting to just the bones (and maybe even cutting away those too), after seeing the abomination you are, they put you back together anyway, again and again. In both a metaphorical sense of like exploring trauma and trusting the other person with that and in a fictional but more literal sense, it is quite literally exploring the other person, and its incredibly intimate, and requires so so much trust.

[electronicdelusionstarlight]

You know, it’s kinda funny to check previous games in elder scrolls and come face to face with the notion that no one ever cared about Talos least of all the Nords, and be unable to do anything about it because Todd wanted his fucking god-emperor war criminal power fantasy who impregnates a child and then violently forces her to abort against her will almost rendering her sterile becoming the central fucking aspect of the game’s political setting.

Also mighty funny how the redguard in the Chapel of Talos doesn’t even care about the guy lol, he worships Akatosh, Mara, Stendarr and Zenithar but Talos? Fuck that guy.

[bigtopstims]

prototype stimboard

im back!!! -steve x x x x x x x x x

[kira-the-whump-enthusiast]

Blindfolded for the whump bingo card!

- @another-whump-sideblog

Spirals and Solitaire

Synopsis: After her capture by the heroes, Wrenna's blindfolded locked in a cell 24/7. It's lonely, so lonely, but her only friend is determined to help her, no matter what side she's on.

Content: Villain whump, hero caretaker, supervillain whumper (mentioned), solitary confinement, captivity whump, emotional/psychological whump, so much angst, also like a very, very heavy depiction of depression self loathing and suicidal ideation, happy ending though

Tagging: @whump-queen @whump-in-the-closet @soheavyaburden @turn-the-tables-on-them (thought you guys might like to read it :O)

---

Day One

Wrenna lowered her head as if she were trying to avert her eyes from her nemesis. “I hate you, you know that?"

Eris could only laugh. “Do you really?” Wrenna's voice was emotionless, and from what she could see of Wrenna's face, her expression was the same. Eris could tell that there was no true malice behind her words. “Or are you only saying that because you’re supposed to?”

Wrenna tensed, cuffed hands folding into fists. “What the hell do you mean by that?”

“It’s just food for thought,” Eris replied with a gentle smile. She leaned closer, resting her arms on the table. “I don’t have anything to do today, so why don’t we chat for a bit?”

“I’m not talking,” Wrenna stated, monotone. “You can’t tie me up and strap this on my face—“ She gestured towards the blindfold she was wearing—“and expect me to agree to a friendly little chat.”

Eris shot her a sympathetic look, forgetting that Wrenna couldn't see it. “Hey, I’m sorry about that, but it’s standard safety procedures. You’re going to ah—have to prove that you aren’t dangerous, but once you do that, they’ll take the blindfold off!”

Wrenna flinched back. “Is that what you want from me…?”

“I don’t—I don’t want anything from you, in particular.” Eris spoke in a measured tone, words carefully chosen.

Wrenna frowned and said nothing.

Eris reached out an arm and gingerly intertwined her fingers with Wrenna's. Wrenna flinched at first, and Eris almost drew back, but Wrenna grasped her hand tightly at the last second. Eris smiled, small but genuine.

“Let’s forget about the whole heroes and villains thing for a moment, okay? You’re just a person. And I can see that you’ve been hurt… so I just want to help you. And maybe we can be friends?” Eris’s voice was hopeful.

Wrenna tilted her head. She hesitated before replying in a low whisper. “I guess I’ll humor you for a little bit.”

Day Eleven

Soft ticking reverberated around the cell. For some goddamn reason, there was a clock in here somewhere. Not that it mattered. She couldn't see it anyways.

God, what she'd give to see a clock.

She wished for a lot of things, but right now, she wished for this the most. Honestly, she just wanted to know how much time had passed. Life was always lonely and terrifying, but now it was boring too.

At the very least, she'd like to be able to count the hours she'd spent in this cell.

She was lying on the floor, and she wondered what the ceiling looked like. Her vision was entirely obscured by jet-black cloth. Getting around was awkward now, but it wasn't like she was going anywhere. The cell was maybe a few paces wide, from what she could tell.

But the worst part—the part that made Wrenna want to hide under the bed or scream and rip through everything and everyone—was that the blindfold stopped her from using her telekinesis. It was fucking stupid—just a piece of fabric that she couldn't get off, and it had all been taken away from her.

She had never been this powerless before.

If she didn't have anything before, she truly had nothing now.

Her mind raced and her heart drummed loudly in her chest. She tensed, turning as still as a statue. Why? Why must this happen?

Actually, there was no point in asking. She knew why. Because she was a villain. Because she was dangerous.

Did they know that if she could, she would go back in time and erase all her mistakes? Choose to never hurt those people, to never commit those crimes, to never do the shit that landed her here.

But she was a coward who let herself be fully under Móirín's thumb.

Maybe she deserved this. Maybe she deserved to be here.

No, it wasn't a maybe, it was a yes.

Day Twenty-Six

Eris had begun to make a habit of visiting Wrenna. It was something she was quite grateful for. Eris was…somewhere, rambling about a book she had recently read, and Wrenna was sitting on the bed, her worries causing her to half-tune Eris out.

"And like, at the end, the trio hops onto the dragon, and they have to fly through a bunch of storm clouds to get to the Dark Lord's castle, and—hey, Wrenna?"

The abrupt stop made Wrenna jerk her head up. "Um, yeah?"

"Are you doing okay?

After some hesitation, Wrenna answered, "I…yeah, sure, I guess." God, she didn't even sound convincing to herself.

She heard Eris's footsteps walking closer to her. It unnerved her slightly, not knowing exactly where Eris was. A hand touched her shoulder, causing her to jump in surprise.

"Oh—sorry about that, my bad!" Eris exclaimed. "I just—I just wanted to let you know, I'm here for you, if you ever want to talk about anything."

Wrenna sighed and slumped over, running the words she wanted to say over and over again in her mind. The phrase was simple, but the delivery could be everything.

Finally, she simply stated, "I want to get out of here."

Eris didn't respond immediately. "You remember the offer, don't you?" she commented.

"Yes, and I've told you before, I'm not joining the heroes."

"Wrenna, it'd be for the best, you'd be safe, and you'd prove to everyone you've changed—"

"I have changed," Wrenna interrupted. "I'm not going to fight for anyone but myself, no matter how much they try to make me." She'd made that mistake with Móirín already. She wouldn't make it again.

Eris sighed. "Alright. But maybe think about it a little more."

The room went quiet, and the silence was deafening.

It was Wrenna who broke it. "I…I haven't read a lot of books, but the one you were talking about sounds great…can I hear more about it?"

"Sure!" Eris chirped, and Wrenna imagined that she was smiling.

Day Forty-One

To keep herself from going any more insane than she already was, Wrenna had invented a few little games for herself.

There was the "Guess That Noise!" game, which was always a little treat. Sometimes there'd be a humming sound, or a crash, or the sound of something zipping by. Usually, the sources seemed to be mundane. The whir of a vent. Someone dropping something heavy upstairs. An annoying, evil mosquito. Sometimes she could make out the faint sounds of cars in the distance.

Lately, she'd added another part to this game, where she made up a story behind the sound that was much more fun. An electric field about to zap something. A piano falling from a window. A wedding cake toppling over. A murder—no, not a murder. Not that. She didn't want to think about that.

It was usually an interesting game, but she couldn't do it all the time. Wrenna had other things to occupy herself, though.

She also had the drawing game, which mostly consisted of lying on her stomach on the floor and making scratches on the cold linoleum floor. She couldn't exactly see what she was drawing, but she could imagine it might look like something a feral animal would make. Or maybe it wasn't visible at all.

Wrenna had no way to tell if she was scratching hard enough, but one day, she noticed warm liquid running down her fingertips. When she ventured to sample it, it tasted like a drop of copper on her tongue. So she knew that she'd probably made some type of mark, even if it was just bloodstains.

And there was one final game as well. Wrenna didn't particularly like playing this one, but she couldn't stop herself from doing it. It didn't have a name. It simply consisted of trying to get the restraints off.

The handcuffs had a generous chain and left her hands in the front, but they were still weighty, awkward, and uncomfortable. They had a rough texture that was a little soft when poked—Wrenna guessed it was leather padding, and as far she could tell with her hands, there wasn't a lock she could pick or break.

And she constantly found herself fiddling with the blindfold, but the damn thing had so many straps and even a fucking lock. Wrenna couldn't get it off, and yet she was still constantly trying. Where the hell did the heroes even get something like this?

Even with all these little activities, there was too much time in the day—or night? She couldn't tell anymore—to think. To ponder over all her mistakes and failures. Why did you do this? Why have you ended up here? Why, why couldn't you have just never been born?

More often than not, the blindfold was damp with tears.

Day Fifty-Two

Eris was back again. Back for another little conversation about the smallest things, heart-to-hearts that meant so much to Wrenna. Eris was standing by the door, and the two had been conversing for what felt like hours.

"Really? You never had any stuffed animals as a kid?" Eris asked her, incredulous.

Wrenna shook her head in response. In the back of her mind, she wondered how many times Eris made these kinds of gestures that she was just unable to see.

"We've got to fix that! I'm getting you a plushie. What's your favorite animal?" Eris's voice was suddenly much more animated and excited.

Wrenna felt her cheeks become hot, and she cracked a nervous smile. "Aww, you don't have to do that for me."

"But I will," Eris promised. "It's really nothing, and plushies are so important."

"Um…I like canaries a lot," Wrenna said in a soft voice.

"A canary plush it is then!" Eris confirmed.

She paced for a bit before sitting down on the floor, next to the cot that Wrenna was sitting on.

"I still can't believe you didn't have any plushies as a kid," Eris commented, voice a little sad.

Wrenna frowned. "If I had any stuffed animals, Móirín would have probably taken them away eventually," she mused.

"God, that's fucked," Eris murmured, giving Wrenna's hand a soft squeeze.

Wrenna shrugged. "It's fine. Not the worst thing she did by a long shot."

Eris was silent for a while, and Wrenna wondered what she was doing.

"Do you need to talk about it…?" Eris finally offered.

Wrenna opened her lips, and mouthed a few syllables, trying to figure out the right answer, how to phrase things. "I…"

She honestly did want to talk about it. But the prospect of telling someone was frankly terrifying. Her entire life with Móirín was an exercise in learning how to be quiet, how it was better to scream and sob than spill any information at all.

"It's…I don't know. It was a lot." Wrenna said carefully, tone kept measured and even. "I never wanted to be a villain, you know… But Móirín wanted it. And well, she won." Móirín had always made it known to Wrenna that she owed her. So Wrenna followed her orders, and paid the price when she didn't.

She shrugged. She didn't know what else to do.

She felt a supportive pat on her shoulder. From Eris, probably.

"Wow, that should have never happened to you…" Eris remarked. "But hey. You can be whatever you want to be. You're safe now. I promise that to you."

Her voice was so kind, so sweet and gentle, that at least for the moment, Wrenna truly believed she could trust Eris.

Day Sixty-Seven

Eris was the only thing Wrenna looked forward to, now. She was the only person Wrenna ever talked to—maybe no one else cared to talk to her, maybe she was just appointed—whatever, Wrenna didn't care. She just wanted to hear someone's voice.

And maybe, one day, see Eris's face.

But Wrenna had gotten used to the darkness, and she was starting to doubt if she'd ever see anything again.

As she stroked the little canary plush in her hands, Wrenna racked her mind, trying to think of something to say to her only friend. But her list of conversation topics was starting to dry up. She'd already told Eris everything. About the things she once saw and liked to do, about the secret hobbies she hid from Móirín, and Móirín's plans, their location and secret hideouts, and about the people who worked with them, too. She'd even told Eris about some of her regrets.

Nothing was off the table. And she didn't care if she was spilling valuable information anymore. She'd be happy if everything blew up in Móirín's face.

"Wrenna…?"

She turned her head in the direction of Eris's voice. Oh god. She was going to leave. Wrenna had nothing to say, and now Eris was just going to go. She was too boring. Everything was boring. Wrenna had nothing to do and that was so boring which had made her boring and Eris was going to lose interest, maybe she wouldn't come back—

Eris's voice interrupted her spiraling thoughts. "Um. You look pretty deep in thought. What'cha thinking about?"

Wrenna turned her head away. "I…" She could tell Eris. Eris treated her kindly. Eris always had soft, gentle words to say. She felt almost trustworthy, even.

Tears started streaming down Wrenna's face. Fuck. Fuck. Not now.

"I-I just…" Wrenna's voice cracked, and she buried her face in her hands. "I can't do this anymore!"

"Hey, hey," Eris soothed. Wrenna heard the bed creak and felt Eris's arms wrap around her, and she felt just a little more safe and secure. "It's okay, let it out…wanna talk about it, more?"

"I think—I think I'm losing my mind—oh god, how long have I even been in here?" Wrenna croaked.

"It's been, um, it's been a while," Eris murmured.

Wrenna leaned on Eris's shoulder, melting into the hug. "Please—I have to get out. Can you get me—can you get me out of here?" she whispered to Eris, every few words punctuated with a sob of utter longing.

"I…I'm sorry, but I can't. Not unless you, you join us," Eris mumbled in reply, sounding disappointed in herself.

"Oh," Wrenna sighed, defeated.

I think I'd rather die.

Day Eighty

Even though she couldn't see, Wrenna now knew the cell like the back of her hand.

Her reference was the wall where the ticking noise came from, the one that the clock was mounted on. On the opposite end of the ticking was the wall with the door. Across from the door, to the right of the ticking, was her cot, layered with extra blankets and messy sheets. To the left of the ticking was the door to the bathroom.

She had probably felt the walls hundreds of times by now, circling the cell and running her hands along the smooth paint, like what she was doing now. As far as she could tell, there weren't any bugs, though she didn't doubt that there was a camera somewhere out of her reach.

Lately, she had invented a new game. It was a bit morbid, and sometimes she wondered if she really should be playing it, but she had nothing else better to do.

It was a straightforward game���she'd find an object, feel it, and let her mind wander, thinking about ways she could use it to kill herself. Sometimes her ideas could be horribly creative, but none of them were particularly easy or painless.

Still, maybe she'd actually do it one day. Any other ending was starting to seem like a dream and an impossibility. There was nothing but her and the darkness and her stupid fucking brain and the cell that she couldn't see.

Wrenna leaned against the wall, then sunk to the floor, and sighed. There still wasn't anything to do. The cell was practically barren and empty. It was probably that way for a reason. Maybe it was empty to give the inmates fewer opportunities to kill themselves. Or maybe it was because they didn't deserve any better.

If she died here, she would die a prisoner. Which was depressing, considering that she had been one all her life. But it felt like such a minuscule concern compared to the prospect of finally ending this horrible existence.

She wanted freedom, but she'd settle for death.

Day Ninety-Five

Wrenna was lying on the cot, tangled in her sheets. She hadn't left the bed in days, and she didn't want to, either. Her mind was filled with static that pinned her down to the cot and sapped her motivation to do anything at all.

There was a knock on the door. Probably Eris. "Yeah. Come in." Her voice was tinged with a permanent sadness now, hopelessness bleeding through her words.

She heard the turn of the lock and the heavy cell door swinging open.

"Hey, Ren," Eris greeted, in that sweet voice that sounded like calm ocean waves.

"Hey…stay here for a while, please?" Wrenna had nothing to talk about. And yet she still wanted to be with Eris, anyways. Not that she deserved her, or any sort of friend. But if this was how Eris chose to spend her time, Wrenna wasn't about to argue.

"Of course." Eris sat down on the edge of the bed, and Wrenna shifted to give her more space. Eris clasped Wrenna's hand, and Wrenna enjoyed the warmth.

Eris started talking about a recent mission, and Wrenna truly did want to listen to every word, but it was all too easy to get sucked into her thoughts, her guilt, and her death wish.

Wrenna honestly didn't really remember what she felt guilty about anymore. She knew that she hurt people. And she recalled the moments, the twisting of a knife, the shrieks, and the sirens. But the past was starting to fade away and fall into the darkness. Now there was only the cell, the wretched, suffocating little box, in the waking hours, and Móirín's house in her nightmares.

She was nothing. This life was nothing. Every hour was just prolonging the agony. Even when Eris was there.

There was something she needed to ask Eris.

"Eris?" she softly called out.

Eris quickly responded. "Yeah?"

Wrenna took a deep breath and squeezed the plush canary underneath the blankets to prepare herself for asking. "Eris, I-I…" Her voice trembled, and she felt tears soaking into her blindfold.

"I need you to kill me," she finally imparted.

Eris was silent for a long time. "…What?" she whispered, with quiet horror.

"Please," Wrenna begged, "please, that's all I want… I feel like I'm dying in here. I can't take this anymore. Can you—can you kill me? I can't kill—I can't kill myself, so—so I'm asking you, to, to do it."

"No, Ren, god no, I can't do that. I'm not going to kill you. Oh, god. My god," Eris panicked. Wrenna heard Eris's heartbeat starting to race, matching her own.

Eris squeezed Wrenna's hand tightly. "I can't. I would never hurt you." Eris was crying now. Wrenna could hear it.

"It's okay. I'm sorry for asking," Wrenna apologized, voice quiet. She tried to hide the disappointment and strange relief that welled up inside her.

"No, no, it's—" Eris took a deep breath. "Okay. Okay. I think I have to—no, I will."

"Ren, I'm going to get you out of here," she declared.

"If I join the heroes, right, I've heard it all before," Wrenna supposed with a sigh.

"No. I'm going to get you out of here regardless," Eris promised, grave determination in her voice.

Wrenna couldn't believe it. "Really?"

"Yeah. Really. God, I'm so sorry—I should have done something earlier." Eris's voice cracked with regret.

It was Wrenna's turn to clutch Eris's hand. "It's—it's okay. When do we—when do we leave?" she ventured, a spark of hope igniting in her heart.

"How about right now?" Eris offered.

Wrenna's cracked lips curled into a smile, her first in a long time. "That sounds great to me."

—

AN: I had this written a while ago but I didn't find the time to edit it until recently

Hope you guys enjoy this, it's one of my longer pieces so <2

[manyothermusingsofmine]

Simon: Did you just say you put the toaster in the bath?!

Sebastian: No I accidentally called the toaster a bathbomb.

Simon: .... I mean: you're not wrong.

[echo-the-ghost]

Jon: *starts smoking again* Me: ah damn it Jon that's horrible and you shouldn't do that :(( Jon: *starts trying to chop off his own fingers* Me: JON. MY GOOD DUDE. SHOULDN'T YOU GO SMOKE A CIGARETTE AND THINK ABOUT THIS MAYBE.