#some days its my stomach some days its my bones some days im tired

[natjennie]

why does my body have to have something wrong with it everyday. I can't have one day that's just like. fine. no, there's a list of 10 different illnesses that fate just closes its eyes and throws darts at each morning.

[sungbeam]

𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐲

ji changmin x gn!reader

1.3k words, est. relationship au, hurt/comfort, minor fluff but more angst?, a bit of silliness, mentions of work pressures, neck kisses, intimacy, mentions of playful biting, pretty much not beta'd or proofread (past my bedtime; written in an hour)

a/n: @kimsohn saw some of the goofiness first <3 ily (*breathes in deeply* idk what im doing guys. anyways, this belongs in the category labeled "i get yappy and sappy when im existentially exhausted")

In the dark, the clock on top of the oven screamed “3:22AM” in angry, red light. You stumbled past it, vision blurry and footsteps as quiet as you could make them against the hardwood. Your bones ached to the marrow and you could feel the blood throbbing violently in your skull; you could not sleep.

It had been three hours of tossing and turning before you completely gave up and slipped out into the kitchen. Usually, it wasn't too difficult for you to fall asleep, but alas, there would always be exceptions.

You managed to find the opened bag of tangerines on the kitchen counter, the orange, wiry mesh already torn from the last person who'd grabbed one to snack on. As your eyes grew accustomed to the dark, you dug your nail into its skin and began to peel it open.

Through your daze, you just barely registered the sound of the bedroom door opening—footsteps followed after and came closer; they weren't trying to stay quiet like you were, as there wasn't any reason to anymore. Hands patted you down from your shoulders to your arms until they could settle comfortably around your waist; his body slid flush against your back like a puzzle piece, still warm from being in bed. Hair tickled the underside of your jaw as he nestled his chin into the crook of your shoulder, the ghost of his breath fanning across your skin like a caress, relieved.

“Did I wake you?” You murmured, forcing yourself awake a little as you felt him lean more of his weight against you.

A low hum. “Bed got cold.”

The corners of your mouth tilted upward as you stuck a piece of fruit into your mouth—it was summer; the bed couldn't have been cold. Juice spilled over your tongue in a comfortingly sweet tang, and you went for another. “Sorry, love. Do you want some?” You asked, holding onto a piece of tangerine.

“Mm-mm,” Changmin hummed, shaking his head with a slight movement. You felt his arms give your body a squeeze. “Are you okay?” He asked, voice small.

You shoveled the remainder of the tangerine half into your mouth, hands reaching for another one to keep yourself busy as you chewed, then swallowed. “Tired.”

“Is it the thing?”

Just the thought of the thing—the project you were given charge of at work—made you wish the ground would swallow you up. Your hands stilled on the orange.

The project was the first you were given a manager role for, as they thought it appropriate because you came up with the idea, but it seemed to only be an excuse to overload you with every Herculean task they could think of. You were practically chained to your cubicle desk until day's end, only leaving to go to the bathroom and attend another god forsaken meeting. Where home was supposed to be for rest, you were often slumped over the dining table, stressing yourself silver.

The thought of Monday… no, you couldn't think of Monday. You'd gone so long working on this thing—how could they make you loathe an idea that you proposed?

At your lack of an answer, there came a small breath against your neck. His thumb gently rubbed your side back and forth, the ebb and flow of the tide. “I'm sorry, baby. I know it doesn't mean much, but I'm proud of you.”

“It does mean something,” you countered quietly, and moved one of your hands to place it over his that rested over your stomach. “I'm just—I hate it here sometimes.”

The two of you seemed to sigh at once, your chests raising up then deflating in tandem. It made the knots in your shoulders loosen for just a moment, and you could release some of the strain keeping you tight and awake.

“One more,” he coaxed lowly. “In—”

You both slowly pulled air up through your nose to fill the caverns in your chests.

“—Out.”

As all things came and went, so too did this breath.

“Good,” he murmured, his lips pressing something sweet against your throat.

You were too tired to cry, but you might have just then. Sometimes it was just a project, but other times it was everything to you. It was born from your two hands, your brains, your back, your bones. Plenty of blood, sweat, and tears had seeped into every proposal and presentation, but you could never tell if it was enough. Would it ever be enough?

Changmin's head shifted as you snuck another piece of orange past your lips. “Remember,” he said, “when we were in college, and I let you text girls on my Hinge?”

Your mouth sweetened into a smile at the memory. “It was only because I let you text the guy who'd given me his number.”

“He was so lame—he clearly just wanted you to go see that new Stephen King movie so he could hold your hand.” You could feel him roll his eyes in the dark, though his voice remained syrupy with sleep.

You held back a snort. “That's the point, hon. If I remember correctly, the pick-up lines I used on those girls actually worked.”

“Crazy.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. You chewed on the next piece of fruit, swallowing it down before speaking again. “At least one of us has game.”

You felt the light pressure of his teeth against your shoulder, and you let out a surprised laugh. You didn't jerk away though—awfully used to your partner's strange language of affection—but you did push back against his forehead in lighthearted reprimand. “We talked about the biting.”

“Yeah, and you said you liked it.”

It was a good thing you didn't have fruit in your mouth. You warmed the slice of orange in your palm as you let the heat leave your cheeks and your neck. He could undoubtedly feel how flushed you were, and he seemed to preen at it.

“Gotcha,” he said smugly, and the smile on his lips molded against your skin as he left a kiss behind your ear. He nuzzled his nose there, too, fingers dancing along your side.

“I love you,” he said next. These words were quiet again. “I hate seeing you like this.”

You knew he meant the state he found you in—hunched over in the dark, eyes glazed over, and dread thrashing in your ears to fill the silence. The laughter that lit up your face just now had been his doing, his attempt at easing all of that burden.

You laid your head against his. “I love you, too.” You hated feeling this way, but some things had to be done. You had to see this one through, and you would.

“Don't run yourself ragged for this,” he said, as if reading your mind. “Can't let you lose yourself.”

The corners of your eyes prickled, your vision going blurry again. Your chewing slowed and you finished the last of the orange in your hands to clear the way for him to grab your fingers to intertwine them with his. He rocked your bodies slowly, dreamily—he was the gentle swaying of the waves beneath the raft you laid upon—and he was keeping you above water.

“Senior year of high school—” a miniscule break in his own voice, “—when college decisions came out… you didn't speak for so long, didn't eat. It was so quiet, and I—I didn't know how to help you.” Back then, the two of you were only labeled as best friends; you still hadn't decided if what you had back then was what you had now, but it was love in some form of the word and feeling. You supposed in every phase of knowing Ji Changmin, what you felt for him was love. “Can I help you now, please? How can I help you?”

You sucked in a breath and it came out trembling. “I'm just tired.”

“Yeah.”

“Just—that’s all. Just be here with me.”

You could feel his slight nod that turned into a tuck into your shoulder. Your pulse fluttered beneath the brush of his lips, his hands tightening around you. (I'm not going anywhere, not without you.)

In a night quickly dissolving into daylight, he held you and held you and held you.

tbz m.list

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[luvrxbunny]

gone too long

Pairing: Steven Grant x F!Reader

Prompt: Masturbation

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, some angst (im sorry), masturbation, pillow humping, panty sniffing, piv, unprotected sex (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 3.2k

A/N: probably too long and emotional for kinktober but its my first time so bear with me please

You’ve been away for almost a week now. Steven tried to be good, he tried but it’s been so hard without you. He goes to bed alone, hard, surrounded by your scent and wakes up the same way.

He spends hours in the night writhing around in bed. He can’t sleep anymore, you always used to get him off after he came home from work and again before bed to help him sleep but now he just spends his time missing you, squeezing his throbbing cock, and crying for you as he palms himself to the edge of orgasm, unallowed to get himself over the edge.

He wakes up in more pain than when he went to sleep. His dreams are all about you, some sexual, some domestic, but they all make him hard. He cries for you some more before starting a painfully cold shower and setting off for the day. 

 If you were coming home tomorrow it’d be a different story. Steven would’ve stayed good, he would’ve waited for you, but he’s had a particularly hard day today, and amid all the commotion he forgot that you wouldn’t be there to comfort him. He’s thinking about you the entire bus ride home but it never clicks. He thinks about how he’ll stop you from cooking and order takeout, he’ll ask you to ride him as you guys wait, he’ll make sure you take it slow, savoring the way you guys feel together, how your bodies mold into one another perfectly. 

He fattens up in his pants as he unlocks the front door, he swears he can hear the TV on inside. He thinks about how you’ll tell him all about whatever new show you’ve found while he undresses you. 

He’s met with the most hollow feeling when he opens his door and reality stabs straight into his heart. 

Tears well in his eyes as he takes deep breaths, trying to calm himself. He keeps breathing slowly as he takes his shoes off, and as he puts his coat up. He starts breathing out through his mouth when the hollow feeling doesn’t leave, he keeps it up as he unpacks his bag, setting everything back in its proper place for the weekend, and he starts up a pot of tea. It’s all futile though, because his tears come pouring out the moment he sits on the bed, your faint scent gets pushed out of the cushioning and the hollow feeling becomes part of his bones. 

He can’t even function for the rest of the night, he turns the stove off through his watery gaze and buries himself in the blankets. Surrounding himself in your scent as he cries himself to sleep. 

He’s soft and sensitive when he wakes up, a state you know how to handle perfectly. But you’re not home. He has his usual morning delirium as he reaches out for you, reality slapping him as he feels your cold side of the bed. 

He rolls over onto his stomach, burying his face in your pillow- the only thing on the bed that still smells like you. 

Three more days. 

His cock is already twitching against the mattress as he huffs your scent, he whines at the stimulation. He wants to be a good boy. You asked him to wait for you, you said he could touch himself but you wanted his balls full for you. But you must not have understood how hard this would be for him. His hips are already grinding into the mattress. 

She won’t find out. Can’t. She’s not here.

He reaches out blindly for your side dresser, knowing you keep spare underwear in there. He feels something a bit hard and his head raises quickly to see what it is. His cock spasms at the sight. 

His mind flashes back to two weeks ago. One night, you and Marc were a little too drunk and way too needy. He pulled your panties to the side, fucked you, and let you soak it in your juices as he came over your stomach. He was too tired to clean you up so Steven took over after Marc fell asleep. You were sleeping so in an attempt to cause less of a commotion he just threw your panties in this drawer. He must’ve forgotten to get rid of it. 

Fuck. 

His hand is shaking as he brings it up to his face. There are dried white streaks of your arousal running all over the crotch, a small circle of it from where your pussy cried for him. He can’t help but moan at the sight and brings the fabric to his nose. It still smells like you, like her. His tongue is darting out to taste it before his brain has even finished processing your smell. His cock spurts out loads of pre-cum into his briefs as he starts to thrust against the bed again. He pushes your pillow down to his crotch with one hand as the other holds your old, dried panties to his face.

He feels so dirty as he does this, almost disgusted with himself but pleasure clouds his mind over as he feels the softness of your pillow on his pulsing dick. It’s comparable to how your pussy feels to him, not as warm and nowhere near as wet but just as soft.

He’s face first on the bed, your panties directly over his face the way your pussy would be, his tongue prodding at where your pretty little hole should be. He’s groaning out your name in half sobs, wishing you were here, wishing you were the one touching him because as good as this all feels… you still feel so much better. 

He feels the molten pleasure work its way up his spine, he feels his balls begin to throb with the load they’ve prepared. He feels it coming, he can feel how much there’ll be and a pang of guilt that he’s not saving it for you. He knows how much you love when he fills you up, how whiny you get when you’re packed full of his load, how you mutter his name on repeat, begging him to fill you up. 

But the thought just works him further to the edge, he can feel his muscles tighten as his dick starts to pulse, he feels relief just out of reach, and a small guilty smile spreads over his face at how good this is going to feel. His mind races through scenes of you, unable to choose one to cum to, your name rests on the tip of his tongue as his hips stutter into the pillow one last time before

nothing happens.

He can feel his orgasm at the tip of his cock, right there and he wants you. He forms scene after scene in his head of how many different ways you’ll touch him when you get back. He thinks about how many times you’ll make him cum, how you’ll coo over his overfilled, swollen balls, how you’ll apologize to him as you fuck him into oblivion but nothing gets close to how he feels when your hands are on him. He needs you.

The realization is accompanied by a teary whimper of your name into the pillow.

The teary whimper is followed by an angelic sound of “Steven?”

His head snaps up and he’s scrambling out of bed before he can rationalize the fact that you’re not supposed to be home for another four days. 

But you’re actually here. 

You’re smiling at him as you place your coat on the rack, your boots already off and eyebrows raised as you wait for him to make his way over to you. He’s standing in the doorway frozen. He thinks he’s lost it, that he was right, all these days without you did drive him insane. 

I told her this would happen. 

His eyes well with tears as he tries to will himself to see the truth. His fists are bunching at his sides, angry at the hope he felt when he thought he heard you calling his name, having already been riled up at his futile attempt at relief. 

You’re growing concerned under his indecipherable stare. “Steven?” He gasps and his eyes widen. You approach him slowly and cautiously, worried at this odd reaction. He takes a hesitant step toward you and gasps at the small amused smile that blooms on your lips. 

“Are you okay, Stevie? I wanted to surprise you but you seem-” You pause to look him up and down, finally taking him all in and noticing the bulge and wet patch in his pants. Your expression changes from shock to sultry disappointment. “You seem like you’ve been bad.”

His eyes are still wide and watery. “Are you really here?”

Your mask drops with a sad smile. “Of course I am, baby. Did you miss me that much?” He envelopes you in a hug, burying his face in your neck, inhaling your scent with a shaky groan. 

“I m-missed you so much. I’ve been good.” He’s already got that distant, airy, aroused tone as he speaks. “I didn’t cum. I- ” He’s started to grind against you already, his bulge pressing itself into your thigh over and over as he grips your shoulders. He’s moved to the top of your head, inhaling the scent of your conditioner. “I wanted to- I tried.” 

His voice breaks at the end and you can’t stand it anymore. You grab the hair on the back of his head and roughly work him to your lips, relishing in the loud moan that breaks from his throat as your lips meet his. He’s trying to lick into your mouth immediately and you let him, you’ve missed the way he tastes. Only, when his tongue presses into yours, he tastes different… something familiar but it’s not him. You pull away confused and Steven’s lips chase yours with a whine. You have to hold his face away from yours to get his attention. 

“Steven, what is that?” He’s too delirious to understand what you’re asking, he just tilts his head like a puppy. You try not to let your endearment show through, attempting to be stern. “What’s that taste?” You can see his recognition flash over his face as he realizes what you’re asking but he starts shaking his head slowly and pulling you back in. “It’s just you, darling.”

You let him kiss you as you process, his words paired with the vaguely familiar taste let it click. You’re moaning into his mouth and pressing your thigh back into his weeping cock, earning a grateful moan from him. 

You walk him back to the bedroom desperately. You’ve been yearning for him as much as he has for you. You spent nights rolling around in bed, clit pulsing for him, unsatisfied with your ministrations. You tried fingering yourself but your fingers were nowhere near as long or as thick as his, you couldn’t hit the same spots he could. You tried. You push him onto the bed with a grunt and notice a pair of undies where your pillow should be. Confusion flies over your face before you look back at Steven, noticing his red face.

‘I tried’ 

The memory of what Steven said earlier finally makes sense to you. It also explained his desperate, disheveled state, why he was leaking and yearning for you. 

Arousal shoots between your legs like a jolt of electricity as you picture the scene; Steven grinding against- your pillow it seems- as he sniffed and licked at your panties. 

That’s why my taste was on his tongue…

Steven’s face is still burning red, looking anywhere but at you, as his hips uncontrollably twitch up for you, it brings a fond smile to your face. You take off your pants, matching him in your bottoms, and place yourself on his clothed bulge with a moan. You meant to tease him but it was already affecting you more than you anticipated. His hips are already thrusting into yours, his hands on your hips to hold you- press you down into him. He’s moaning out for you, whining about how good you feel but still trying to hide his face in his shoulder.

You give in and swivel your hips against him, earning a whole new level of volume from Steven. His hands aren’t just resting on your hips, they’re running all over your body wildly, grabbing and groping anything he comes across. You lean down to his ear and begin your questioning.

“So what are m- shit. What are my panties d-doing over here, S-Steven?” His name accidentally comes out as a moan as he drags your clit right over the tip of his dick. He’s not even looking at you, his eyes are fixed on where he’s rubbing you against himself, the way his tip dips into your soft skin and leaves streaks of his pre all along the fabric. His jaw is dropped open and little pants make their way past his wet lips. 

You can see this feral look in his eyes that you’ve never witnessed. He’s told you drunkenly how badly he craves you but you’ve never actually seen it, you’ve never really believed him. Like this, though? You can see what he was talking about. You can tell that he’s zeroed in on how good you’re making him feel, you don’t think he even heard you, too entranced with how he’s moving you along his cock. 

Your pussy clenches at the thought and he can feel it. He falls back against the bed with a groan before propping himself up on his elbows to pull you both back against the headboard. He whimpers at the momentary loss of friction but smiles once he can collapse onto the board while still staring at you. His hands come back to grip your hips, upset that you’ve stopped moving your hips without his help but you stop him. You lean forward on him, pressing most of your weight on his tip, he gasps and grips your arms with a moan. “Please! Oh Gods-”

You silence him with a short kiss, pulling away before he’s satisfied. He starts to mumble pleas to you again but your finger is pressed into his lips, he licks them, tasting your finger in the process and moaning at the taste of your skin. “Stevie…” You pause and he sighs at the sound of his name on your lips. “Did you use my underwear to get off?”

His eyes widen and dart to where they lay, exposed on the bed. You feel his cock twitch under you and you have to bite your lip to hold in a whine at the way it rubbed over your clit. He’s embarrased but turned on at the fact that he thought you’d never find out but you still did. The way that he could never hide anything from you, the way you don’t seem upset at the fact you caught him.

“I needed you so b- bad an’ you- an’ everything smells like you. I- I’m sorry.” He drops his head onto your shoulder as his hips slowly grind into you. “ ‘M sorry, alrigh’?” His accent gets heavier as he grinds into you more deliberately. “I just- I jus’ -oh I needed you so b-bad.” He whimpers into your neck, trying to muffle himself in there. You’re lost in the feeling, in his words as he humps his cock into you. He’s kissing along your neck, sometimes just licking at your sweat and moaning at the taste. His hips were starting to twitch and stutter into yours, his moans pitched up and his hands began to bruise into your skin. “I’m-”

You lift off of him. “No- Wh-y? P-please.” You ignore his plea and pull your shirt and underwear off as he scrambles to do the same. “Are we gonna-?” You smile at him softly and prepare for your confession. 

“I couldn’t get off without you, Steven.” You shift your weight nervously as he just stares at you. “I- My fingers aren’t enough anymore.” You whine at him and his cock jumps, leaking onto the sheets as he reaches out for you. He pulls you into a kiss and fumbles to take your bra off. He lets you climb over him again and moans into your mouth as you line him up with your soaked hole. “Put it in. Put it in- shit. P- put- ” He’s cut off by both your moans as you sink onto him. 

“Fuck I can t-tell your- fuck.” He whines out as you as you squeeze around him. “Your little fingers aren’t enough t’properly stretch you f’me hm?” His eyes roll back and his eyebrows draw inward as you grind onto his cock. You try to keep a steady pace but his tip is slamming right into your G-Spot, pressing into it no matter what he does, no matter how you move. Your legs give out halfway through a thrust and your body slams down onto him. He groans your name and hugs your body close, planting his feet on the mattress and fucking into you slowly.

“S’it too much?” You moan his name into his ear and his cock jumps inside you. “Fuck I’m-mm” His words get drawn into a whine as his thrusts slowly lose rhythm. Your pussy begins to clench on him, arousal coiling in your stomach at the telltale signs that he’s gonna cum. Steven’s hand comes to cradle your head into his neck, stoking your hair softly and whispering soft assurances and begs for you to cum around him. 

“‘M right here. I’ll take care of ‘ye, keep you nice an’ safe. C’mon. Give it t-to me.” Your orgasm explodes inside you like a solar flare. It bursts in your stomach and ripples throughout your whole body, moans are shoved from your mouth, almost deafening Steven with their volume and pitch but they only push him over the edge. His cock twitches violently inside you before releasing a torrent of cum. He tries to stay semi-calm as his orgasm crashes over him, his stomach won’t stop tensing under you and his mouth can’t shut. He can’t hold any of his moans in as his balls empty themselves inside you. 

He feels like it’ll never end, he’s at his peak for what feels like years. He can hear you distantly whining about how full you feel, about how much he’s filling you up. His hips have a mind of their own as he ruts into you pathetically, doing anything he can to prolong his euphoric high. He feels tears spring to his eyes, unable to believe that you could make him feel so good. He feels your lips over his mouth that’s propped open on a silent moan. He’s panting out whines down your throat as you whisper praises to him.

“W- It won’t stop. It- f-feels so go-od” He’s gasping at you as he speaks, his entire body shaking as his cock spurts out more ropes into you. You’re leaking all over his thighs, unable to hold all the cum he’s pumping into you. He moans out your name one last time before his body goes limp, and his cock finally stops spitting into you. He’s incoherent for quite some time, fading in and out of consciousness. 

He always whines out for you when he wakes up, sniffing and huffing until some part of you comes in contact with him. Once it does he’s pulling you into a crushing hug and doesn’t let go for at least another hour.

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed it, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works, and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!

[joekeeryswife]

Outbreak Day - J.M

a/n: hello angels! reader is 26 and pregnant and Joel is 36. there is a little twist 😵 best way to describe this imagine is that it’s sad, long and has a shitty ending lmfao. okay anyways, enjoy reading 🫶 please send me in some fluffy requests and some dad! joel requests too!!

big trigger warning this imagine is very gory and descriptive!

“Sarah honey, is that you?” you turned to look at the front door and saw your step daughter Sarah coming home from school. “hey mum” she said as she set her backpack down on the floor. “how was school?” you walked toward her and gave her a small hug and a kiss on her forehead.

“was good. got dads watch fixed but everyone acting weird, cops everywhere, shops closing early. i don’t know just weird” she said making your heart pound a little, you didn’t know why but hearing her say that scared you but you tried not to dwell on it too much. “yeah well it’s probably just people being stupid. we shouldn’t worry too much okay?” she nodded but then groaned making you frown.

“dad told the Adlers i’d go over there to help them make cookies” she sighed, it wasn’t that she didn’t like the Adlers it was just she wanted to spend time with you and her dad as it was his birthday. “look, go there for thirty minutes then say i need you home, i don’t mind you blaming me.” she smiled and thanked you.

“i was going to make your dad a cake but we don’t have the ingredients and i was too tired to go food shopping so he should be brining one home, he’s going to be home earlier today as well” her eyes lit up as you spoke “is it a chocolate cake?” she asked watching you nod. “i didn’t tell him it was because you have been craving one i told him it was because i was” Joel hated chocolate cake but for his girls he’d do anything to please them.

“thank you mum, you’re the best. i owe you one” she said as she turned to go out the front door again to the Adlers house. “no worries honey, if Mrs Adler bakes chocolate chip cookies please bring me one, the baby is craving them like mad” you said as you rubbed your growing stomach. she nodded and said her goodbyes before leaving to spend the worst 30 minutes of her life with the Adlers.

-♡-

“hey baby girl. how was school?” Joel asked as he finally got home, four hours later than expected. “you’re late” she said, completely ignoring his question as her eyes shifted from the TV to him. you had both been waiting for him on the sofa watching Harry Potter and you had fallen asleep not even halfway through the movie. being pregnant had made you extremely tired so it wasn’t a shock to Sarah when she saw you put a blanket over yourself and curl up into a ball on the sofa within the first 10 minutes of the movie playing.

“i know, im sorry. work has been crazy, guys calling in sick, it was just me, uncle Tommy and Dave in today. i meant to phone mum but my phone died” he said as he made his way over to the two of you. his heart melted when he saw you sleeping next to Sarah, you’d never looked cuter. “its fine, we had fun without you anyways” he lifted up your feet so he could sit between you both, careful to not wake you up in the process.

“did you at least get the cake?” she said shyly as Joel got comfortable on the sofa. “oh shit” he put his head in his hands “im sorry honey i completely forgot” she nodded, understanding that he obviously came straight home as soon as he finished work. “mum is probably gonna kill you. she wanted cookies earlier from the Adlers but they were making raisin instead of chocolate chip so i didn’t even bother asking if i could bring one home for her” Sarah said and Joel wrapped his arm around her shoulders, his other resting on your legs.

“i’ll get you guys a cake tomorrow, i promise it just completely slipped my mind” she shook her head, indicating that it was fine and she understood he was stressed. Joel felt you stir and you woke up, your hair all over the place and your bones cracking as you stretched from a very good nap. “hi baby” Joel said softly as you looked at him.

he unwrapped his arms from Sarah’s shoulders for a moment so he could give you a hug and a kiss. “i miss you so much” you said as you sat up so you could rest on him instead of the arm of the sofa. “i missed you too. how are you? how’s the baby?” you nodded, still half asleep.

“fine, kicking like crazy” you were only six months pregnant and your unborn daughter was already giving you a hard time. you rested your head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around both you and Sarah, pulling you both into him. “did you bring home the cake?” you asked making him sigh “no, i’m sorry baby, i forgot” you shrugged, eyes closing again as you tried to fight sleep but it was no use.

“i love mum so much but she could have slept through world war 2 and not have been disturbed at all” she said making Joel laugh quietly, trying not to wake you up. to be fair, carrying this baby had knackered you out and he understood that you needed sleep but sometimes you would be halfway through a conversation with him when he got home from work and you’d be falling asleep whilst you were taking. “to be fair, you aren’t wrong there” he ran a hand through your hair gently as he admired you, you were stunning and he loved you so much.

“anyway, let’s try spend some time together tonight, let’s put on a good film, this is shit” Joel said making Sarah scoff and look at him “that is a lie. Harry Potter is the best” he shook his head. “take it back or you work get your present” she said making him gasp. “you wouldn’t dare do that” he said to her, making her give him the ‘try me’ face which made him quickly change his comment and apologise to her.

she grabbed the box off of the coffee table and handed it to him. he unwrapped his arm from her yet again to try open it with one hand without waking you up. he opened the box and saw his now fixed watched that had been broken for three months. “aww baby that’s so sweet, thank you” he kissed her forehead and tried to put the watch on but failed miserably making Sarah help him put it on. “okay now we can watch your stupid old film dad but don’t expect me to stay awake” she said as they both got comfortable again “i wouldn’t dream of it” he smiled at her.

-♡-

green and blue flashing light woke Sarah up from her sleep. she looked around the room confused, she had somehow ended up in her bedroom and didn’t hear any noise in the house. she sat up as she heard helicopters fly over the house and car alarms go off. she quickly got up calling out for Joel as she walked around the house but she only found you in bed asleep, no sign of Joel.

she felt awful waking you up but she had no other choice. she crept to the side of your bed and shook you awake. “mum, can you wake up please?” you jumped awake when you felt her hand on your shoulder. “what’s the matter sweetheart?” you asked but your question was answered when another helicopter flew over the house. “what the hell?” you said sitting up quickly.

you grabbed your phone which was on the bedside table but there was no service. “what’s happening?” Sarah asked as you quickly got dressed out of your pyjamas. you were going to go outside and you didn’t want your neighbours, if they were awake, to see you in your pyjamas so you put on a tracksuit before walking downstairs. “i don’t know baby”

you turned on the tv and heard the broadcast ‘stay home, do not let anyone into your house. we will post more instructions soon’ you frowned, what the fuck was happening? you checked your phone again, this time trying to phone anyone, your mum, your dad, your brother, Joel and nothing. no calls were going through.

the two of you jumped at the sound of Mercy, the Adlers dog barking at your front door. Sarah quickly put on her shoes and went outside to retrieve the dog and you quickly followed, slipping on your trainers. “Sarah i don’t think we should go outside yet. we should wait for your dad” but she ignored you. she walked outside, bringing Mercy with her to take him back home making you follow after her as quick as you could.

“Sarah please come back inside” you said but the curious girl went inside the Adlers house after she heard a glass breaking. “no Sarah don’t go in there” you sighed, you loved that girl but she did not listen. Sarah was quiet walking into that house, making sure to not make any sudden movements as she did. the noise was coming from the kitchen and she quickly made her way there and almost screamed at the sight infront of her.

you were right behind her, you felt sick to your stomach as you saw Mrs Adlers mum chewing on her daughter’s neck with some sort of fungus growing out of her mouth. your eyes widened and your heart dropped, what the fuck was going on? the once disabled old woman looked up at the two of you and quickly stood up screeching and running after you when you told Sarah to run.

you weren’t as quick as you used to be but you were luckily quick enough the run away from this infected woman, she had fallen over the crinkled carpet giving you enough time to escape. “Sarah we need to get back in the house right now” you shouted as you grabbed her hand and tried to pull her into the house but as you did Joel’s truck pulled up.

“get in the truck right now” Joel shouted at you both, he sounded scared and he was never ever scared. this made you feel even more sick than before. he had a wrench in his hand and he quickly pulled the two of you behind him when the screeching sound approached you again. you all looked at the front door to see the elderly woman fall over the steps of her front porch.

Tommy got out of the car with a huge rifle in his hand making your eyes fill with tears, you were absolutely terrified but you didn’t want to show Sarah that you were scared, if she saw that she would feel even more frightened then she already was. you grabbed ahold of her hand and tried to pull her into the truck but she wouldn’t budge. it was like she was frozen in fear.

the old woman’s head shot up, her eyes were black and she started crawling towards you then she stood up and ran towards Joel and Tommy. “what are we doing Joel” without a second thought Joel cracked the wrench on her head making her fall to the floor. you and Sarah both gasped at what he had just done. Joel was never a violent person and this had shocked you.

he dropped the wrench and they both turned to look at you and Sarah. both of your faces were filled with fear and Joel quickly pulled Sarah into him “you killed her” she said, voice filled with fear “i know baby i’m sorry” he kissed her forehead and looked at you. you couldn’t believe what you just saw. you were confused and scared. “we gotta go” Tommy said making you all quickly get in the car.

you were sat in the back with Sarah who hugged you closely “it’s alright honey, it’ll all be over soon i promise” you whispered and you rubbed your hand up and down her arm, trying to comfort her but also trying to comfort yourself. you could feel the baby kicking vigorously “are you okay y/n? you aren’t hurt are you?” Joel asked as he looked back at the two of you. you just shook your head.

you didn’t know why but all this fear made you wish you were back to being a little kid, wishing that your mum was there to comfort you when you were scared yet now you were the adult comforting your child and you didn’t know if you would ever even see your mum again.

“dad-” Sarah said but Joel quickly cut her off “i don’t know” he said like he knew what she was going to ask him. “they’re saying it’s a virus, some kind of parasite” Tommy added making Joel look at him. “does it come from terrorists?” she asked making Joel repeat himself “we don’t know”

“are we sick?” she asked and this time you answered “no, none of us are sick” Joel nodded “of course not” he sounded mad but you didn’t know what at. “why were they blowing things up?” her eyes were filled with tears as she asked all these questions.

“no idea, there’s no phone, no radio” her eyes darted between Tommy and Joel “how do you know?” she asked, voice laced with concern “what?” Joel looked back at the two of you, cuddled up together with you trying to act your calmest but he knew you, you were freaking out.

“how do you know we aren’t sick?” she was practically crying now. “they’re saying it’s mostly people in the city, that’s why they have the highway blocked off” Tommy said but he was quickly silenced when he drove past a burning house of one of his friends.

“the Adlers would take nana to the city, so that’s why they were sick?” Joel nodded “your right, that’s probably why” his thick texan accent was filled with concern but he tried his best to stay calm. “we are going to be fine, trust me” Tommy said but he sounded unsure of what he had just said.

he drive around the corner and quickly slowed down when he saw a small family. “what are you doing?” Joel asked and Tommy just shook his head “they have a kid Joel” Joel quickly cut him off. “so do we, are you forgetting that my wife is pregnant?”

“Joel Tommy is right, they have a kid we should help them” he turned back to you “no, we don’t know them. keep driving Tommy” he’d never spoken this was before and this was definitely not the Joel you knew. you just prayed that whatever this is would go away and you could go back to your normal lives.

-♡-

you were driving through the town, planes flying low, catastrophe everywhere and you were just scared. “right keep going down this way” Joel said as Tommy drove down a side road leading to a whole group of people who were fighting and running away from the danger. “keep driving Tommy” Joel said even though there were people everywhere.

“are you kidding? Joel i can’t just drive through a whole group of people” Joel cut him off shouting “just keep going damn it” cars were crashing into each other, the sounds of people screaming made your eyes fill with tears. the next thing you knew the cinema doors cracked open with a lot more people coming out of it, all of them crying.

“shit” Tommy said as he quickly stoped the car “go go, fuck Tommy go get out of here” Joel said as he looked behind him out of the truck and slammed his hand on the dashboard “i’m going, i’m going” Tommy started reversing back, careful to not hit anyone in the process.

Sarah looked out the back window and so did you, seeing the huge airplane falling rapidly toward the floor. “Tommy, you need get out of here” you shouted as the plane darted toward you. “fuck Tommy go now” Joel shouted but it was too late, the huge plane crashed on the ground exploding into a million pieces.

the huge flame almost blinded you, you felt sickened at the thought of all those people on the plane that didn’t even stand a chance. “oh shit” you heard Sarah say as a huge chunk of the plane crashed into you car and then your whole world went black.

-♡-

“y/n” you felt someone’s hand on your shoulder as you awoke from the darkness “y/n honey we need to get you out, can you get out slowly for me angel?” Joel’s soft voice filled your mind as you sat up, a sharp shooting pain went right through your stomach making you groan. “my stomach is killing me” you said as you put a hand on your belly. you looked out the window and saw Sarah sitting on the floor and Joel crouching next to where you were sitting.

“don’t panic, it’s probably nothing okay?” Joel’s heart dropped when he heard you say that, a pain in your stomach was never a good sign especially when you are pregnant. “can you get out sweetheart? or do you need help?” you just nodded and started making your way out of the car.

once you had gotten out of the car you stood next to Sarah and saw Tommy was on the opposite side “we gotta get off of the street” he said as you stood up right, you right hand still back on your stomach hoping to feel any sign of movement. “Sarah can’t walk, i’ll have to carry her. do you think you can walk?” you nodded again. “shit” you heard Tommy shout as a police car crashed into Tommys now ruined truck.

the car set alight and you were lucky you even made it out of the car that quick before it crashed otherwise you would have been dead and you wouldn’t have wanted your family to see that. “Tommy” Joel shouted as he tried to see Tommys face through the flames. “i’m okay, head to the river and i’ll meet you there” with a simple nod Joel picked up Sarah and pushed you behind him.

“stay close okay?” he gave you a quick kiss before you both started making your way through the side roads trying to find a way to the river. the two of you stopped once you saw a group of bodies with people eating them. “what the fuck” you whispered as you saw this horrific sight in front of you. one of the people shot up, looking at you twitching weirdly.

“go” Joel pushed you in front of him and you both started running through a random cafe. the man chased you, snarling and screeching as he followed. you could hear the man tripping over different things but you didn’t dare look behind you. you could hear Joel comforting Sarah who was now crying as you finally made it outside but you didn’t stop running until a gunshot filled the silent field.

you and Joel both stopped, turning to look back and the now dead body in front of you. “don’t move” you heard someone say next to you as a bright light shone on the three of you. “my daughters hurt her ankle and my wife is pregnant” the man lowered his gun and started talking to his radio “i’ve got three civilians by the river, one of them injured, one pregnant”

you couldn’t make out what the other person was saying but your thoughts were cut short when Sarah spoke up “what about uncle Tommy?” she questioned Joel just shook his head “i’m gonna get you both safe first then i’ll go back for him okay?” she just nodded and you all looked back at the masked man. “yes sir….. yes sir”

he raised his gun “we are not sick” Joel said as the man approached the three of you. “sir, i said we are not sick” with that the masked man shot a round of bullets and Joel heard you and Sarah scream. you all rolled down a small ditch and Joel quickly turned to look at the man who was now approaching him with his gun raised. “i’m sorry” he said but before he could shoot Joel another shot was fired, killing him instantly.

he looked up to see Tommy with his gun raised, he had never been so happy to see his brother in his whole life. “are you okay?” Tommy asked Joel who was just grazed by a bullet and Joel just nodded but Tommys eyes shifted to you who was covered in blood and gasping for air. “oh god” he said making Joel turn around to look at you.

all you could do was feel a throbbing pain in you stomach. Joel quickly got up and ran to you and Tommy made sure Sarah was okay and turned her away from you. he knew Joel wouldn’t want her seeing you like this and it was bad enough he had to see you like this. “no no it’s okay” he could see the blood soaking through your jumper, the once grey colour was now a soaked dark red and it was growing by the second.

“you’re okay, move your hand honey” Joel said once you’d moved your hand, putting pressure on the wound. you cried in pain as you still gasped for air. “i know i know im so sorry sweetheart i am” he said and he pressed harder on the wound to stop it from bleeding out more. you managed to speak through your pain as you grabbed onto Joel’s arm “go” he shook his head.

“go Joel, take” you took a few more deep breaths as you tried to calm yourself down “take Sarah and go” he just shook his head again. “no, i’m not leaving you like this. i can get help and you’re gonna survive this” he said, his eyes filling with tears as he saw your tired but pained expression.

“you know how much i love you, i don’t” you closed your eyes as you breathed deeply again “i don’t want you seeing me like this” you stuttered out. you felt a tear roll down your cheek as you realised what was about to happen to you. “meeting you was the best thing to ever happen to me” you could hear Sarah sobbing next to Tommy and you hated that she was even watching you, laying there covered in blood.

“i’m sorry” he said as he sat down next to you, he took the pressure off of your wound and you were grateful he had given up, there was no way you were going to be able to survive this and you didn’t want to prolong it. you just shook your head at his comment. “don’t-”

you felt pain all over your body but you felt tired, so tired that you wanted to sleep desperately. “i love you, i love Sarah. just take her and run okay?” he had tears now rolling down his cheeks, his bloody hand now stroking your cheek softly. “im not leaving you here on your own” you just smiled at him. you knew he wouldn’t leave but you wanted to save him from the trauma of seeing you go.

“i know” you looked at him and he kissed you, one last for however long he has left on this earth. “i love you so much” you heard him say and with that your eyes closed. he sobbed quietly, you were gone and nothing was ever going to bring you back.

you were carrying his unborn child and he wished he could go back in time and taken the bullet instead of you. you were this ethereal soul who didn’t deserve to die this way and he hated it. he hated it so much. he tried his best to calm himself down as he took your wedding ring off of your finger and put it in his pocket hoping to keep it safe. it wasn’t like someone was going to steal it but he took it off so he could have something with him that was yours.

he kissed your forehead and carefully placed your body back on the floor and turned toward Sarah and Tommy, he had tear stains on his cheeks but his expression was neutral. “let’s go” he said, he was emotionless “dad, we can’t just leave her-” he cut Sarah off “i said let’s go” with that the three of them left and never looked back.

[tired-truffle]

Even the Gods Cry For Us

A Viktorxfem!reader fic

Chapter Word Count: 2.3k

Part 4/17

Tag list: @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @potatointhedirt (if anyone else would like to be tagged with future updates let me know!)

"PYLADES: I'll take care of you.

ORESTES: It's rotten work.

PYLADES: Not to me. Not if it's you." - Anne Carson

Warning: Panic attack (kind of?)

Masterlist

A whisper, faint at first, but growing louder with each passing second. It curled around the base of your skull, a sinister caress that sent beads of sweat trickling down your spine. That voice, you knew it all too well - it had haunted the edges of your consciousness ever since that fateful day when you first came into contact with the Hexcore.

"Mila..." it hissed, the breathy syllables of your name elongated and distorted. "You cannot resist me forever. I am a part of you now, just as surely as the teeth in your skull and the organs in your belly."

You shuddered, your fingers tightening around Viktor's as you fought against the invasive presence worming its way into your thoughts. The Hexcore's voice was poison, sweet and almost sentimental as it dripped honeyed promises into your mind.

No, you thought to yourself, tucking your face into Viktor’s chest - the blue jolts of your magic that sustained him tickling your cheek. I won't let you control me. I won't let you turn me into a monster.

The Hexcore's laughter echoed through your ears, a grating, discordant sound that set your teeth on edge. "Oh, my dear, sweet Mila," it purred, the false affection in its tone making your skin crawl. "You already are a monster. The power within you and the runes that mark your flesh are my gift to you, my claim upon your soul. You belong to me now, whether you like it or not."

And just as abruptly as it had appeared, the presence dissipated, leaving only a faint echo of its malicious laughter behind.

You shook your head vigorously, the cold sweat that had formed along your skin settling at the small of your back, your unease sitting in the pit of your stomach like lead.

You didn’t have the energy or ability to tell Viktor at that moment. You would later, of course, you weren’t about to get in the habit of keeping secrets from him. But in that particular instance, the gravity of the situation demanded a level-headed approach. You needed to have your wits about you when you inevitably broke the news that the Hexcore was finally awake and able to speak to you.

Forcing a smile, you leaned up to press a kiss to his lips. "We should get some rest," you whispered, trailing your fingers along the line of his jaw, metal meeting flesh. “I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty tired after all that.”

Viktor studied your face for a moment, searching as if he could sense the unspoken anxiety that churned beneath the surface. But he simply nodded, his arms tightening as he pulled you close.

“Sweet dreams, lásko,” he said as you nestled into his embrace, letting your eyes drift closed. Exhaustion tugged at your limbs, the fear, the magic, the ever-present threat of the Hexcore - it all coalesced into a bone-deep weariness that settled into your marrow.

“Lásko,” you mumbled, feeling clumsy in your pronunciation, “what does it mean?”

“Love. I think it suits you.” His voice rumbled low in his throat, and your heart warmed. Yes, it suited you just fine.

The city of Piltover was known for its mild climate, never experiencing any terrible heat waves. Even the Undercity, often considered a grimy and crowded place, shared in this moderate weather. The air was comfortable, warm enough not to necessitate heavy winter coats, but cool enough that one could comfortably wear shorts without sweating through them.

It seemed, somewhere in the middle of the night, that had all changed.

Your skin was slick with sweat, a thin layer of moisture coating every inch of your body. The heat radiating from within was suffocating, as if you had been trapped in an overheated sauna for hours on end. Your mind felt hazy and disoriented, like a fog had settled over it, making it difficult to think clearly - or at all. Every breath was laboured and each movement felt like an overburdened task. You groaned your discomfort as you vaguely registered movement beside you - or perhaps under you, it was difficult to tell - a hand on your shoulder, shaking you gently, saying something you couldn’t make out. 

Your eyelids struggled to open as if Jayce’s heavy training equipment weighed them down. The world remained blurry and unfocused. The hand moved to your forehead, then slid behind your ears, a noise of dismay accompanying each touch. 

A blessedly cold and damp sensation pressed against your forehead, drawing a shuddering sigh of relief from your parched lips. The cool sensation was a blessing against the feverish heat that radiated through you, chasing away the worst of the discomfort.

Through the haze of exhaustion and sickness, you could just make out Viktor's face hovering above you, pinched with worry as he adjusted the cool compress. His lips moved, forming words you couldn't quite grasp, their meaning slipping through your fingers like wisps of smoke. But the cadence of his voice, low and soothing, washed over you like a gentle tide, lulling you back towards the welcoming pull of sleep.

Darkness and light danced across your vision, a technicoloured display that swirled and bled together like watercolour paint on a well-loved palatte. Faces, familiar yet strange, hovered at the edges of your sight, their features fuzzy and indistinct. Viktor's voice, a distant echo, threaded through the haze, a line tethering you to the waking world even as you drifted in and out of consciousness.

Time lost all meaning, minutes and hours bleeding together until you could no longer distinguish one from the other. The fever burned through you, a raging inferno that consumed everything in its path, leaving only ashes and confusion. Your thoughts scattered like leaves on the wind, fragmented and fleeting, impossible to grasp for more than a moment before they slipped away again.

In the brief moments of clarity, you could feel the cool press of a damp cloth against your forehead, the gentle touch of Viktor's hands as he tended to you with a devotion that made your heart ache. His fingers, flesh and metal, brushed against your cheek, your hair, your lips, each touch a silent promise that he would see you through this trial no matter what it took.

But even his presence could not chase away the visions that haunted your fevered dreams. The Hexcore's whispers, once a distant murmur, now roared in your ears like a monstrous beast, drowning out all other sounds. Its seductive and insidious voice filled your mind with images of power and destruction, of a world remade in your image.

You saw yourself, wreathed in violet light, your eyes glowing with an otherworldly radiance as you stood at the center of a whirlwind of energy. The runes that marked your skin pulsed and writhed, alive with the Hexcore's nefarious power. And at your feet, kneeling in subjugation, were the people of Runeterra, their faces upturned in a mix of awe and terror.

"This is your destiny," the Hexcore purred, its voice a slimy caress against the shell of your ear. "Embrace it, and all the world will be yours to command. You would have the power to keep Viktor alive. Forever."

You wanted to scream, to rage against the lies that poured like cyanide into your mind. But your voice was lost, swallowed up by the fever. Your body, once your own, now felt like a foreign thing, a vessel for the Hexcore. And you had done it all to yourself.

Eerie silence greeted you. Gone was the comforting buzz of Viktor’s presence, the floorboards quiet without his movement. Panic leaped into your throat, adrenaline mixing with the Shimmer in your veins and propelling you upwards - though it did little to stop your head from spinning or your vision from spotting out. Your shoulder collided with a wall, sending a dull thud reverberating through your body. But you persevered, pushing onward.

As far as you could tell with your limited sight, the room was empty. 

“Viktor,” you tried to shout, but it came out as a barely intelligible rasp.

No one answered your call.

With shaking limbs, you pushed yourself away from the wall, struggling to maintain your balance as you stumbled towards the door. Your movements were unsteady, like a puppet controlled by an unskilled hand. The world tilted and spun around you, a dizzying spread of muted colours and shifting shadows that made your stomach churn and your head throb.

Each step took more effort than it should, your body heavy and uncooperative as you forced it to move. The fever hadn’t left, turning your blood to acid and your skin to paper-thin parchment stretched over brittle bones. Sweat beaded on your brow, salty trails trickling down your face and stinging your eyes, but you blinked them away, your gaze fixed on the door with single-minded determination.

Just a few more steps, you told yourself, just a few more and you would be out of this room, out of this suffocating silence and into the world beyond where surely Viktor would be waiting for you. He wouldn't leave you, not like this, not when you needed him most.

But as you reached for the doorknob, your fingers brushing against the handle, you pulled up short. There, carved into the dust and cracking paint of the door, were words that made your heart stutter and your lungs empty.

Back soon, stay calm. -V

The letters were unmistakably Viktor's, the precise, angular strokes of his handwriting as familiar to you as your own. He had left you, slipped out while you were lost in the throes of your fever dreams, off to find…you didn’t know, but it had to be important, or else you were sure he wouldn’t have gone. Medicine, most likely, something to break the fever.

A sob welled up in your throat, equal parts relief and despair. He hadn't abandoned you, not truly. But the thought of him out there, alone and unprotected, while you lay helpless and weak, sent a hot spike of fear through your chest. What if something happened to him? What if he encountered trouble?

Gritting your teeth, you twisted the doorknob, the rough wood biting into your palm as you wrenched it open. The hallway beyond was a yawning chasm, the stairs a treacherous descent.

Your legs gave out beneath you, your body crumpling like a withering flower, its petals wilting and its stem bowing. The hard floor rushed up to meet you, sending a sharp jolt of pain through your already aching limbs as you collapsed against the doorframe. It pressed into your spine, digging into your shoulder blades.

An all-consuming panic clawed at your throat, constricting it with each short gasping breath. Your chest heaved as if trying to push out the fear that threatened to choke you. Viktor was out there, alone and vulnerable, while you were too weak even to stand, let alone go after him.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, hot and stinging as they spilled down your cheeks. The salt mingled with the sweat that already coated your skin, leaving bitter tracks through the grim. A guttural sob tore itself from your throat, raw and ragged, a sound of pure despair that echoed in the empty hallway.

What if something happened to him? What if he encountered trouble? Ran into someone who meant him harm?

As despair threatened to overwhelm you, a strange feeling tickled at the edges of your awareness. It started as a gentle brushing against your legs, like the whisper of a soft breeze through tall grass. But as the seconds ticked by, the sensation grew more insistent, more tangible, until you could no longer ignore it. With great effort, you lifted your head, your gaze drifting down to your legs.

Vines, thick and green, slithered up your body, curling around your legs like living ropes. Each tendril seemed to sprout from the floorboards beneath you, pushing through the cracks and crevices as if answering some unspoken call.

With a frantic burst of energy, you attempted to scramble away, your fingers clawing at the ground as you desperately tried to push yourself up and out of their reach. But your body refused to cooperate, your limbs heavy and unresponsive as the vines continued their relentless advance.

They wound their way up your torso, slipping beneath your shirt and curling around your waist like a lover's embrace. The sensation was unusual, not quite painful but not entirely comfortable either. It was as if the vines were searching for something, probing and prodding at your skin as they sought out the hidden pathways of your body.

They climbed higher and higher, winding around your chest, your shoulders, your neck. Tendrils brushed against your face like serpents seeking warmth, tracing the curve of your cheekbones, the arch of your brows, the soft swell of your lips.

Your arms, once free, were now pinned to your sides, the vines wrapping around them in a tight, unyielding grip. Your legs, already weak and unsteady, were now completely immobilized, anchored to the floor by the writhing mass of greenery that had sprouted up around you. Even your head, which had lolled to the side in your exhaustion, was now held fast, the vines cradling your skull in a vice-like grip. You tried to twist away, to wrench your head to the side, but their grip was unyielding, holding you fast as they explored every contour of your features.

Your breath came in quick, sharp gasps as the vines tightened their hold, constricting around your chest like a serpent's coils. Each inhale was a struggle, your lungs burning with the effort as you fought against the crushing pressure. Stars danced at the edges of your vision, bright pinpricks of light that flickered and swam in the gathering darkness.

And still, the vines grew, their tendrils weaving together into a living cocoon that enveloped your entire body. They pressed against your skin, cool and slightly damp, their touch both soothing and terrifying in equal measure. It was as if they were trying to absorb you, to draw you in and never let you go.

And you were powerless to stop them.

Next Chapter

A/N: Did anyone ask for a cliffhanger? No? Please forgive me.

You can join us in the discord chat and berate me for my evils.

[natspookie]

when you show up

an, hello anon! thanks for the req, hope you’re doing well and life gets less angsty for you:)

made reader a lil nerdy and smart here hehe and this is kind of a comfort fic for me toooooo (inspired by tasm 2)

natasha rushed through the halls, excitement filled to see you. her ap class, captain of the cheerleader squad, and extra circulars were all weighing down on her shoulders.

you had more work than natasha, badly needing a scholarship. with 4 ap classes, captain of debate team, part of school council, and varsity of volleyball, you had been tiring yourself out. hence, natasha’s plan to let you relax today, the start of your one week break.

she hadn’t seen you since tuesday, it was friday now. but you never failed to send her a little text to ask about her day.

natasha went to your favorite bakery, getting your favorite pastries, starbucks for your favorite coffee/ tea, the makeup shop right beside that to get that blush you had run out of, and got herself some jelly for her pb&js that you loved. you were always there for her, now it was her turn to show up.

natasha had already shooed away your kind roommate, wanda, setting her up with her friend who wanda happened to have a crush on, vision.

natasha used the key you gave her to your dorm and started setting up. it was nearing 6pm when she heard your keys jingle.

you shut the door and looked up to see natasha fixing the night light on your bedside table.

“nattie” you sighed, dropping your bag on the floor and jumping on her, giving her a bone crushing hug.

“i miss you too, darling” natasha laughed “waittt i’ll be back i just need to shower, im really sweaty” you kissed her cheek “i already have that fluffy towel you like set up” natasha spoke as you walked towards the bathroom “you’re an angel”

natasha had also refilled your shampoo which was her shampoo as well. when you got out in your pajamas natasha was awaiting you on your bed.

a tray of all your favorites was reheated and sat on the floor, where you sat. “you didn’t have to do all this nattie” you pouted and she flipped on her stomach, just watching you “you deserve it” “oh oh oh! it’s this croissant i love! i haven’t eaten since 10am” you mumbled “dekta you need to take care of yourself, alright”

“mhm.. you too. how was class?” you leaned against your beside table while eating” “the usual, i missed you this week” “i missed you too. but y’know its much harder when we have events to plan for school council” “are you guys in charge of planning the graduation next next month?” “yeah we’re involved in that thing… hows practice for next weeks game?”

“i almost got dropped by the new member when we were forming a pyramid” natasha giggled “are you alright?” you sat up and she just nodded, holding you back “have you eaten?” you asked and natasha thought about it “nattieeee! you need to eat as well” you held up half of the croissant and you moved beside her on the bed, embracing her with legs and arms intertwined.

natasha switched on the tv to your guys’ comfort show, friends. “i love you, thanks for being here with me” you weren’t sure if natasha was up but you said it anyways before falling to sleep

of course the day would come where you and natasha would graduate. thankfully, the college natasha wanted was not too far from your choice of college.

it was the night before your graduation when worries overtook natasha “you’ll be there for me even from a far, right?” natasha whispered “every step of the way.” “i promise we’ll make the… sorta.. long distance thing work, ‘kay?” “i need to work, i need you to function as a human being” you giggled “good” she mumbled, falling asleep

the next morning, you were going over your speech like a crazy woman. “dekta you need to relax” natasha slipped her hand into yours and rubbed circles. “i’m going to make a fool of myself… and i have to shake like 190 people” you chuckled nervously “including meeee!” “my favorite person” you teased

natasha was the loudest in the crowd when you gave your speech, of course mentioning how she helped you through your journey.

it was almost natasha’s turn to walk up and she had something crazy in mind. natasha smiled as she saw you in beside the dean.

“Natalia Alianova Romanov” they announced and Natasha walked up confidently up the stage and shook the dean, receiving her diploma. she shook your hand as well and whispered “can i kiss you” your eyes widened and nodded as natasha took your face in her hand and one on your back. the crowed cheered and you giggled, turning red as natasha smirked walking down.

you straightened your posture as you glanced at the dean who laughed at natasha’s antics.

either way, it ended up with you and natasha together and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[stevie-petey]

Hi! I know you probably can't answer this till the end of season four or until we're a little further into the season, but could we see the talk between Jonathan and argyle? When they're at that junk yard playing "golf" and Jonathan opens up about college and Nancy and bug . I'm really curious to see more insight on Jonathan's conflicting feelings.

of course !! im actually really excited to dig into some more longer scenes that i had to cut because bug wasnt directly in them <33 welcome to the first directors cut of come home !

words: 1.6k

enjoy <3

“Yes! 

A golf ball shatters a car window, the sound ringing through the desert air. Jonathan throws his hands up, cheering, the satisfying sound of glass breaking mellows the dull roar that’s been ringing in his head ever since moving to California. 

The sound mellows the roar, and with some help from Argyle’s “special flowers”, the smoke stifles the ache that Jonathan’s bones possess. Yet as the golf ball lands and the silence after the wreckage settles, all that’s left within Jonathan, the very thing he can’t seem to outrun, is his loneliness. 

“I don’t know,” he finds himself saying to Argyle. “Part of me expected Nancy to be on that plane… or something.”

Seeing Mike again hadn’t been so bad, Jonathan supposes. The teen has grown a lot since leaving Hawkins, and he knows how much Will and El missed Mike, but Jonathan couldn’t mask the disappointment he felt when Nancy hadn’t been by her brother’s side.

“No Y/N, man?” Argyle swings his club and sends a ball flying, but it misses the junkyard of abandoned cars by miles, and he angrily throws the club. “Shit!” 

Jonathan runs a hand through his hair, the familiar feeling of bitterness creeping upon him. “No,” he laughs, harsh. “I didn’t even think she’d consider coming all the way over here, anyways.”

“You never know,” Argyle points his club at him. “You always drone on and on about her, man. Seems like the type of chic to hop on a plane and surprise her man.”

“I’m not her man,” Jonathan rolls his eyes. He’s tried explaining to Argyle a million times who you are and who Nancy is, but after months of explaining and re-explaining, Argyle still believes Jonathan left Hawkins and two girlfriends behind. “Not that it matters, anyways. I just–”

More anger and confusion washes over Jonathan. He doesn’t know how to express the words that perpetually get stuck in his throat. There’s a mix of emotions that swirl within him, always begging for release. 

Remorse, because he misses you and Nancy. Guilt, because he hasn’t been honest with either of you in a long time. Confliction, because he can’t do what you want, what Nancy wants. Jonathan can’t do the one thing you and Nancy ask of him, and it’s slowly driving him insane. 

“I felt this intense relief when Nancy wasn’t there, when Y/N wasn’t there.” He admits.

Argyle shakes his head. “No, that’s the Purple Palm Tree Delight working its magic, my man. Makes your troubles float away like the seed pods of a dandelion flowing in the wind.”

The mention of dandelions makes Jonathan’s bones ache even more. They’re your favorite flower. At least, they used to be, but it’s been so long since he’s really talked to you, and even longer since he’s laid down in a field with you to listen to music together and stroke each other’s skin. 

And then the thought of you sparks memories of last night and how Jonathan had called you, high as he always seems to be these days, and the whispered confusion he felt fall from his lips. His stomach twists, wondering if what he asked you, if his question of what if was too soon, too much, too revealing.

But everything is just so hard between him and Nancy. Exhausting. All her expectations of him, all the hiding Jonathan has to do, the lies he keeps feeding her because he can’t stand the thought of upsetting her, and he’s tired. 

And yet he’s hiding the same things from you, though Jonathan knows that eventually you’d forgive him. You always do, and he always forgives you, always accepting the molted parts of the other. Everything is easier with you, and that’s why Jonathan hasn’t called you back. He knows that this time he doesn’t deserve your unyielding understanding of who he is. 

The memories of last night are hazy, smoke infested and dull. But he remembers the tears in your voice and thinking how disappointed you’d be in him if you knew all that he was hiding from you. 

He isn’t ready to face any of it just yet.

“If I showed you something, you wouldn’t tell anyone, right?” Jonathan asks Argyle, needing to confess his sins to at least someone.

“Who would I tell?” He chuckles, slightly confused. “You’re my only friend, Jonathan.”

Argyle’s words make the taste in Jonathan’s mouth even more bitter. Last spring, Jonathan never thought he’d ever have to say goodbye to you, the only friend he would ever need. Now, it seems he only really has one friend in the world, and somehow that friend isn’t you. 

He throws the golf club down and lets Argyle putt another ball as his fingers dig into his flannel pocket. The paper beneath his fingertips is worn, smoothed over by his anxious fingers. 

“What’s that?” Argyle looks at the piece of paper being offered to him. Jonathan doesn’t say anything, he just hands it to him. 

“It’s an acceptance letter to Lenora Community.”

“That’s where I’m going.” Argyle observes, holding the piece of paper close to his face as he reads its lettering.

Jonathan sighs. “I know.”

“But you’re going to Emerson with Nancy.” Argyle then looks up. “Or was it NYU with Y/N? It’s hard to keep track of your girlfriends, dude.”

“Nancy is my girlfriend, Y/N is my best friend.” Jonathan practically says this through muscle memory now. “And no, I’m not going to either of those schools. They just… don’t know it, yet.”

Argyle blinks a few times, desperately trying to understand what he’s being told. “Hold on a second, what’s going on?”

Everything that’s been building within Jonathan, every phone call he’s lied through his teeth, every soft bee that pierces his skin, ever I love you that Nancy whispers through the phone, it all comes spilling out.

“I-I can’t leave my mom and my brother to… to chase a dream that isn’t mine.”

“You’re dead, man. You’re so dead.”

Jonathan grips at his hair. “What was I supposed to do?”

“Not lie!”

“Not lie?” Jonathan is yelling now, slowly losing grip on reality. “Not lie?”

Argyle waves his hand at him. “Yeah!”

“I-I mean, NYU used to be my dream. Me and Y/N. That was all we used to talk about, but now if I tell her the truth, she’ll be stupidly understanding and wonder why I even lied in the first place and then-then she’d just learn to live without me!”

Jonathan blinks away tears he hadn’t known were coming. “She already is learning to live without me! I can feel her slipping away and it’s all my fault because I’m practically forcing her to forget about me and-and Nancy?” He paces the earth, body thrumming with insecurity. “She’d just throw her dreams out the window to come out here and be with me.”

He swings his club, messy and anxious, needing something to do with his tired hands. “And I… I just can’t take that. This-this huge knot of resentment would build like… like some cancer until eventually she hates me and then before you know it, we’re just like mom and dad and Y/N is gone and-and then I’m divorced and my kids hate me and I can’t call her or Nancy–”

Argyle misses his swing, having stopped listening to Jonathan’s spiral long ago. “Shit!”

He starts whacking his club on the ground and Jonathan joins him, slamming the ground repeatedly, every thud sending a painful jolt up his tendons, but he doesn’t care.

“Yeah!” He screams out, exhausting himself. “It’s all just shit, shit, shit!”

Jonathan throws his arms up in the air again and rests his club between his shoulders. He rests his head against it, aching for your voice and for Nancy’s touch and for the two girls who mean the most to him. 

“The cycle never ends,” he exclaims to the sky above. The cycle of your endless forgiveness for Jonathan. The cycle of Nancy’s desire for him to be better, to live a life he deserves. Over and over again all he ever does is let the two of you down. 

“Yeah, man. Your nightmare cycle.” Argyle rolls his eyes. “Two hot girls who want what’s best for you. Must be real hellish for you.”

Jonathan glares at him and Argyle raises his hands in surrender. “Alright, I’m sorry, man. So you want it to stop, but what is your approach here? To just force Y/N out of your life and slow-motion break up with Nancy?”

“I…” Embarrassment stings Jonathan’s body. Hearing it from someone else is only more jarring, knowing how pathetic he’s being. “I guess?”

“No, man!” Argyle screams at him. The genuine despair in his voice startles Jonathan. He’s never seen his friend so serious before, which only means how completely fucking stupid he’s being. 

“I know!” Jonathan winces. “Okay? I know, but I don’t know what to do!”

“Palm Tree Delight! That’s what you do!”

“Palm Tree Delight?” Jonathan knows that smoking has only made everything worse for him, but the idea of the acrid smoke filling his lungs causes his mouth to water and his body to shiver. 

Argyle shoves him towards the van. “Go!”

Jonathan stumbles over his feet, dropping his club to run towards the vehicle. He runs to escape his guilt, to forget how weak you sounded last night and how defeated Nancy sounded during their last phone call. Jonathan runs towards the van and throws his body inside, allowing the pain of the impact to lessen the sting of losing you.

-

﹂director's cut masterlist

﹂if youd like to buy me a coffee ☕︎

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

status of babbit's life yeehaw

tl,dr: busy moving and a couple of other big life things that just complicate things, but well on the way to being back to normal! new fic chapters and better quality art coming soon.

tl,wr (too long, will read):

Helloooo what's up its me, Babbit. or Rabbit. or Bones. or Idiot Moron Menace Child, idk im not picky lol

i know a lot of you guys have been wondering wtf is up with my upload schedule lately and the extreme lack of even basic content and also i am extremely aware that i have not updated my fics in a few millennia and for that i am very, very sorry. this post is to answer a few questions you might have, if anyone was curious about the 'reason' instead of just the 'when.'

my family and i have had a hell of a year, y'all. like, jesus christ, i really hope things level out and calm down for a while once we're moved in to our new apartment bc god damn we are so tired. the list goes: 1. we got kicked out of the house we were renting-to-own bc we wouldn't be able to afford the new rate, so they gave us two months to find a new place to live (not long enough, it turns out) and then foreclosed to get us out. 75% of our belongings were still in the house when we had to leave. that includes all of our christmas ornaments- including the ones kept for decades, and the ones made by me and my siblings, and the fancy ones made from blown glass. 2. the first night out of the house, one of our dogs, freaked out by the strangeness of the situation, panicked and slipped her harness and ran off. that was over a year ago. we haven't seen her since. 3. my cat got very ill and became unable to eat. she passed away almost exactly a year ago. she had been 14-15, and had been my baby since i was maybe 8. 4. one of the tires on my dads car blew out. during the night, while it was parked on the curb so he could put the spare on in the morning, one of the in-tact tires was fucking stolen LMAO 5. we applied to rent at so many places and got rejected so, so many times. it costs money to apply, btw. we're talking like $200+. no, u don't get that money back. 6. i lost my job bc knowing i would have to work 8 hours at a job that stresses me out to the point of exhaustion (at a place where no one takes me seriously and would actively laugh at me when i try to express my need to step away for a minute) sometimes paralyzed me and made me sick to my stomach and made me feel unable to leave the house, and i called out one too many times. a day after my birthday, too! 7. just recently, like within the last week, my dad's car got fuckin totalled!!!!!

THE GOOD NEWS IS WE OFFICIALLY, FINALLY, AFTER A SOLID YEAR, HAVE AN APARTMENT!!!!! I'LL HAVE MY OWN ROOM AGAIN!!! THERE'S AN ENTIRE KITCHEN!!!!!!!

the 'oh god' news is we still have to move in, and replace a lot of the stuff that we just couldn't take with us when we moved out (mostly stuff like bookshelves, dining table, dressers, etc) AND get the few things we could cram into a storage center out and moved into the new place, which isn't a lot but at the same time is more than we can realistically handle on our own. and then, we have to get my mums cats (a pair of kitty sisters that we had to temporarily house with my aunt, who got tired of looking after them and let them outside to be outdoor cats a few months ago. yes, this was an extremely shitty thing to do, and we've been working hard to get them back safely) AND my gecko (who my cousin has been looking after, even tho feeding him worms freaks him out LMAO yes i plan on compensating him) moved in, as well... basically oh my god there is so much to worry about but at the same time it's nice to have to worry about it bc it means we're making progress sdkfhsjdkfhdsjfh

basically i am just so tired but so busy and also thinkin abt so much im so sorry for lack of stuff but i am so looking forward to being able to bounce back, pls stick with me, it'll be sorted out soon i think and then i'll hit y'all with some good stuff i promise!!!!!!!

anyway thank u guys i love u and appreciate u all for sticking around

[amoristt]

a/n: sorry there’s so much drama in this one LOL im nothing if not a sucker for nightmare tropes

-as always comments/reblogs are appreciated!

-want to leave a tip? heres my kofi!

The Accused | Simon Riley/Reader

3.

As the morning sun rose and shone through the splintered gaps of the boarded up window, you realized how exactly Ghost got his name.

You weren't sure when he'd arrived, but he was certainly your sight for sore eyes, rising from your fitful slumber. His back faces you, the light dances over the darkness of his tactical gear. For just a moment, you allow yourself to take it in. The birds outside offer a lovely soundtrack. His chair creaks underneath him while his weight shifts.

"Mornin'." Is all he says.

It takes a couple seconds before you're able to sit upright. Your back aches something awful, and you aren't sure if you've ever felt so thirsty in your entire life. Lucky for you, it seemed your friend had brought a couple of gifts. Four water bottles and what appeared to be a few bags of jerky and an assortment of nuts. Your stomach grumbles at the thought, upset at you for not feeding it sooner.

You mumble a good morning as you rise to your feet and take the chair next to him. If not for the situation at hand, you were sure this would have been a lovely morning indeed. The situation at hand only grows worse when Ghost breaks some news.

48 hours, he'd said with a flat tone. Meeting someone out in Las Almas.

For two days you'd be alone, cramped up in this shed with nothing but the everlasting sound of nature as entertainment. To hide the disdain on your face, you grab at one of the bottles and take a long swig. It doesn't work. But it also doesn't stop him from taking his leave less than an hour later.

The rest of the day was spent in phases of isolation. The first phase, immediate boredom, came with anxiety quickly in tow. Ghost would be across the country and you were merely a few miles away from base. It was over if someone decided to stray away just as you used to do and actually found you here. Running couldn't save you forever.

Phase two was quieter. Your left side ached as the bruises began to settle deep into your bones. The birds chirped high in the sky, your tired eyes numbly watching the light cracking through the windows morph from a proud yellow to a dim orange. And, eventually, white with the moon casting through the trees.

You slept better that night- fed and hydrated, mind empty and full all at once with questions. What if's haunted you deep in your core.

By day two you were starting to feel better, but the air around you felt heavier than before. Moist, almost. The shed was dim. When you peeked outside, tentative and afraid that even poking your head out the door would render your life over, you realized that dark clouds had rolled over the sky and parked right on above. Wind blew through the leaves and you could practically smell the impending storm brewing.

When it began to rain, late into the evening, it was nothing too serious. Light pattering on the thin roof, a couple drops slipping through gaps in the shingles and puddling on the floor.

When the thunder cracked over the sky it almost sounded like a bomb. You jumped in your seat so hard you almost fell off, scampering to the window and peeking through the tiny cracks. The wind had grown menacing, tearing through the branches and launching leaves to the grass. Just as before, the sky remained just as baleful as it had been that afternoon.

Eventually, the rain began to come down like it was hail. It beat the roof ruthlessly, more and more water gathering on the floor as it forced its way through the ramshackle shed. You tucked yourself up on the chair, bringing your knees to your chest, trying to have faith in your little shack to keep you safe. There was nowhere else to go- this was it. With no blanket, you were reduced to a shivering mess, listening to the deafening chants of the falling rain.

But, even through it, you could still make out something else.

A great clap of thunder. The unmistakable sound of craning wood. And then an ear-splitting crash. You'd barely even managed to hop from your chair in time.

You felt the wind on your skin before you felt anything else.

And then, water. Lots of it- soaking you almost instantaneously. Pieces of wood and metal lay at your feet, surrounding you, your mind struggling to grasp what the hell was going on. Roaring gusts of wind echoed in your ears.

Standing there, your eyes finally adjusted through the murky darkness just enough to see leaves and branches bent at all angles before you. A great tree lays horizontal through the shed, mere feet away from where you stood. Moon poured in through the gaping maw of what used to be the roof.

The chairs you and Ghost once shared lay shattered to bits under its mammoth weight.

The tree welcomed the entire night into your little safe haven. Angry outbursts of winds, the relentless rain showering every inch of your body. In an attempt to protect yourself, you crushed yourself up into a corner of the shed, the only part of it with a chunk of roof remaining semi-intact. It bowed down, barely held up by the wooden posts, but it dipped just enough where the water ran down it and pooled at your feet.

Tears bite at your eyes, and you let them. They fall in heavy streaks.

And your chest heaved, your hands shook. The storm swallowed your cries, hungry and angry and ripping away any last remaining shred of normalcy you had. Everything around you seemed to be riddled with fractures just waiting to shatter. You grieved the life you had merely three days ago- spent more on the upside than down and wasting your in-between hours alongside Ghost.

Ghost. Beautiful, enigmatic, scary Ghost. With all of those rough edges and those forlorn eyes. He haunts your mind as you fold into yourself, but your limbs offer little cover to the elements. Your head hurts, your body aches something deep and awful. Your skin burns at the cocktail assaulting you- equal parts the pelting rain and the whipping of the wind pitching shards of wood and glass at your weak frame.

A part of you wonders if this would be your demise. If, out of all the wrong cursing your life, this would be your downfall. Cramped in the corner of a shed attempting to outlive mother nature like some pitiful stray thing. Your protective grip on yourself tightens. The nightmare doesn't end.

And the storm rages longer than you can stay awake for.

You remain where you sit even in your dreams. The world is all underwater garbles, the branches of the fallen tree try to reach out and grasp at your shaking body. It's almost like being in a bubble- feeling so full an empty all at once. Hearing the raging storm but it's booming voice just can't seem to fully reach you. But, you swear you hear something else.

You swear, with your face tucked into your knees, you can hear your voice rising above the thunder and the whirlwind.

And then it's like you can feel hands on your skin. Gloved, but warm. Something soft and fuzzy tucked wrapped around you. Those hands pull your arms off your cut-up legs and then you're weightless. It reminds you of your fall. Weightless, hung by your hand. Your eyes screw shut and you're torn from your spot like a ragdoll. Clearly, your soul must be leaving your body.

"-Up."

That faraway voice reaches you. It tears through the veil.

"-Hear m-"

You blink. Everything suddenly rushes in- real. The lamenting winds, the torrent of rain, the creaking of wood and the whipping of leaves on shaking branches.

The softness of a blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

Then, it all stops when you lock eyes with those familiar, melancholic blues. He's shrouded in black, the edges of his form painted in the most beautiful of blues, droplets gathered on his gear reflecting in what little light the moon could creep through those rich clouds. He touches your face. He holds your face. And then he's picking you up like you're broken and you try to remember the last time you've been treated with some fragility. You try to think back to a time when you'd been treated with such care.

"Ghost." You murmur, your own voice the loudest thing reaching your ears.

"Me." He says, and it draws tears of relief to your already wet eyes. You sink into his large arms, allow him to duck out of what remained of the shed. Allow him to pull you to his chest so tightly it's almost too much of him. Almost.

But it never gets to the point. You press your head against him and swear you can hear his heartbeat thrashing in his ribcage, restless. For the first time that night, you felt safe. Utterly safe in his hold. If your body could say thank you, it would have.

The relief knocks you out a moment later.

----------

It's warm when you stir awake. Quiet.

Soft.

When your eyes open, met with a burst of yellow light, you struggle to grasp where you were. Your elbows try to prop you up, but they sink into something plush.

It takes a few moments to realize you're a sopping-wet mess laying atop a couch. Your clothes stuck you grossly, but the cushions you lap upon make it hard to feel uncomfortable. You almost wondered if this was the dream. If you were going to wake any moment in a jump to defend yourself or run, scamper into the stormy night and earn one more day on earth.

But then you see a window with tightly shut blinds. You see a coffee table with coasters, a tiny TV mounted on a wooden entertainment center. An air conditioner pokes out of the wall and it strikes you how similar it is to your flat back at the base.

Like instinct, you glance to your right, and sure enough, you're met with a kitchen you recognize so eerily you have to pinch yourself. A half wall divides the two rooms, the stove visible with the steam outpouring from a kettle.

You were back at base. You were sure of it now.

But it was as if your flat never had the loving touch of personal taste. No photos, no decor. Void of anything to suggest a person with a life worth living inhabited it. It felt hauntingly empty. The same blanket you'd had tucked against you lay a crumpled pile atop the armrest. Your eyes linger on it longer than they should, mind still half empty with sleep and confusion.

You reach out, and you draw your fingers along the blissfully soft fabric of the blanket. It reminds you of your own blankets, and the saddening realization that you may never get a bed of your own ever again, should you not clear your name somehow. You get lost in your thoughts, idly running your fingers along the blanket, still damp from the rain.

"Enjoyin' yourself?"

Ghost's voice pops you out of the bubble you'd slipped into. He stands there in the kitchen, his torso visible over the dividing half wall. The first thing you notice is his evening attire- a skull print etched over a his black fabric mask and a casual black t-shirt spread gaunt over his muscles. It never struck you how naked he looked without his gear on. How bare he seemed with his ruffled blonde hair and thick eyebrows on full display.

The second thing you notice is the sudden shrew scream of the kettle, forgotten on the stove. Ghost settles a pile of clothes on the table and turns to tend to the piercing sound.

For some reason, your mind remains far away. Like you're watching through a lens, not truly where you were. All your brain seemed to want to focus on was the softness of the blanket. The faint smell of amber spice lingering in the air. Your eyes travel to the outline of Ghost, particularly to the broadness of his shoulders, and to the way he moved so languidly, pouring water into a pair of mugs.

You don't even fully realize it when he's suddenly walked directly in front of you, your mind lagging. The mugs are set on the coffee table, and in two snaps of his fingers an inch away from your face, you're blinking up at him like you'd been ripped from a trance.

"You there?" He asks, and you finally offer a response.

"I'm here." You murmur, eyebrows knitting together. "I'm confused. Are we at mine?"

Ghost shakes his head. "Mine."

Your stomach drops like lead. Settles in your gut when he adds, so keep your head down. It's a struggle to digest his words when you're suddenly keenly aware that one wrong move, one wrong sound would have you surrounded. It would be over before the chase even began. Ghost senses your dismay- reads it off the lines in your face that drag your features into a sinking frown.

"No where else to bring you." He admits, settling beside you. "This'll do for now. Just got to keep your head down."

His words do so little to ease you that it actually makes you laugh. Low, pitiful chuckles. "Simon Riley harboring a fugitive. You're a changed man."

"Not changed anything. You'd do it for me." Is all he says with a huff, and you know he's telling the truth. He reaches down and grasps a mug, and he brings it to your lap.

Your hands shake as they reach out, the chill of wet clothes still biting at your bones. It's nearly comical when you take the mug into your own hands, the immediate ripples bouncing off the walls as it shook in your hold.

"Christ. Give me that." Ghost sighs, and before you're even able to respond, he's plucking the cup from your trembling fingers.

Then he's bringing it to your lips and you're so excited to finally drink something that you barely even register how close he is. How he has to shrink himself to be beside you, how gently he tips the mug back while you sip. The warmth drops to the floor of your empty stomach and relief washes over you so intensely it nearly draws tears. How emotional you’d become, the last few days pushing you to your limits. But now you have real shelter, Ghost at your side, a bit more color in your vision and of course the luxury of warm tea.

You're so eager to get it down that droplets gather and fall from the corners of your lips. They dribble down your chin and you pull away with a grimace, swiping at your skin.

" 'Sposed to drink it." Ghost says, and it leaves him so sweetly.

You match the smile you swore you'd heard in his words. When Ghost brings the cup back up to your lips, much less tentative this time around, you can't help but subconsciously reach up to paw at this wrist. The dull ache of an empty stomach ebbs away as you empty the cup, and finally, your sore muscles relax into jelly.

"There you go." Ghost's voice, low and observant. Something in the tone makes you squirm under your skin, and you're met with the reality of being disappointed when he pulls away and sets the cup aside.

It makes you all too aware of the heat over your face, and you lower your head to escape his gaze. A quiet thanks leaves your lips.

"Clothes are on the table, no chance they'll fit you though. Better than being soaked." Ghost's large hands clap over your knee before he stands up. "Washrooms on the left."

When he leaves the room, and you start feeling that gnawing sense of isolation, you finally take to standing and wander into the bathroom. Its white light on even whiter walls blind you for a moment. When your eyes adjust, you're met with eyebags and wet, messy hair. Cut up arms and shaking hands. You look like you've aged 10 years. Your wet clothes plop down in piles as you shed them, layer by layer.

It felt strange to be in Ghost's house. Even more, it felt strange to be naked in Ghost's house. Quickly you unfold the clothes he'd provided, and then proceed to gawk.

Ghost hadn't been kidding. They did not fit. Just the t-shirt alone engulfed you. Somehow you managed to secure the sweatpants around your waist after finagling the drawstrings into a belt. Your legs swam in the fabric pooled around your feet. Haphazardly you roll them into cuffs.

Ghost, again, wasn't kidding. Shucked of your wet clothes, blanketed by his, you were already feeling better. The world felt a little less shattered around you. You hang your old clothes over the shower rod in the hope’s they’d be dry by morning.

When you leave the bathroom and saunter back to his kitchen, you find him there leaning against the table in wait. For a brief moment, he doesn't see you enter. And for that brief moment, your eyes plant on the sliver of skin visible between the gap of where his t-shirt ended, and his mask began. His gaze flicks over to yours and you meet it.

"Better?" He asks.

"A lot better." You say with a relieved sigh. You fidget with the hem of your shirt, eyes downcast, thinking the night over. "Goodbye hangout spot."

"Hangout spot? Are we fifteen?" Ghost scoffs, laughing lowly under his breath. He motions for you to follow and you're led into a modest bedroom.

"Come on, it was like a hangout spot. And now it's gone." Your voice falls at the end, and doesn't go unnoticed by his listening ears. He watches you through the corners of his eyes. "Was one of my favorites, too."

"We'll find another." He offers.

You shrug. "It won't be the same."

Ghost sighs and wanders to the side of the bed, and only then do you notice the blankets laid out on the floor.

"We'll make it the same. Come on, you need some sleep."

When he pulls the blanket from the mattress back in invitation, you frown. Even more so when he begins to kneel on the blankets mounted on the floor.

"I'm not sleeping in your bed. I'll take the floor." You deadpan. He shakes his head.

"Absolutely not."

"Man, come on. Let me."

"Not a chance." He settles over the blankets, laying flat on his back. You crawl onto the bed to peek over the edge down at him.

"Are you sure?" You ask.

Those blues peer up at you from the floor. They roll, his voice a grunt. "Shut it. When's the last time you got real sleep?"

You scoff. "You're gonna' talk to me about getting real sleep? I could ask you the same question."

Ghost laughs deep in his chest. A sound you rarely get the joy of hearing. But then he rolls over, back facing you, and you feel him shut the argument down in one fell swoop. Your combative perspective dies somewhere in the back of your brain, and suddenly your new focus is just how plush Ghost's bed is. It sucks you in, it feels. Practically reaches up with and tugs you down against it. You sprawl out, your muscles crying out in relief.

The scent of him surrounding you is intoxicating. As is the deep, soft breaths you hear from the floor. Your head suddenly becomes too heavy to lift.

"You know what," You mumble with half-lidded eyes. "I think I am gonna' take the bed."

Whether Ghost answers or not, you're unsure, asleep nearly the same second the last syllable left your lips. A heavy dream cloaks the forefront of your mind.

And it paints such awful pictures.

Fireworks of light, clapping explosions, and the distant howls of your friend's voices echo cry into the back of your mind. All you know is that you're running, your legs struggling to heave the weight of you. Darkness nips at your heels as you flee. Hands grab at you from all angles, long twisting fingers rooted to bony knuckles.

The crashing waves of the emptiness pass you with ease and you're swallowed into nothingness. Your feet splash through it like a pitch-black puddle. Though warped, you catch your own reflection in the murky depths. You kneel down and reach out, touch at the wet surface. It rippled like water but sat on your finger thick, like honey.

It reeked of tar.

And before you knew it, staring at the black ooze, a hand crashes through the surface and wraps it's spindly fingers around your arm. It yanks, rips you down. You struggle to your feet with an outcry, find your footing despite the hands hold, just to see more hand breaching. Your feet sink inches into the murk. The hands claw at your ankles, and then your legs. The ground drinks you down. Your thighs, then your waist.

"Fucking hell." A voice garbles, echoing and distant. The choir of outcries beat against your eardrums.

Your eyes search, and they land on something emerging from the darkness. A creature shadowed in the darkness blossomed, its dripping teeth and glowing eyes drawing closer. The air pulls from your lungs and you choke on nothing.

The creature claps its talons over your shoulders, its grip puncturing bullet-sized holes into your flesh. You rip and tear fruitlessly. It taunts you, laughs at you. Gargles your name out fuzzy and far away. You're suffocating.

"Look at me!" It chants, shaking you ragged. "Open your eyes!"

Your mind statics and blurs around the edges. Your eyes clench shut, and then tear back open, and it's like being pulled out of the water. You suck in your first full breath. A hand presses firm to your cheek and you react with vitriol, ripping away with its touch. Fighting harder when it persists, another hand planting on your shoulder to keep you still. The image of the monster lights up in your mind, with its piercing stare and snapping jaws.

"It's me!" A voice rings in your ears from a foot away. Right there, real. It reaches into your mind and drags you out with a thrashing heart and heaving chest.

The creature melts into the familiar shape of Ghost before your eyes, and that's when you realize it's silent. Nothing but the sound of both of your heavy breaths. The color floods back.

"It's me." He says again, softer this time, edged with gruffness. He touches at your arm, the other still set firm on your other shoulder. You peer up with him through tears.

"I couldn't breathe." Is all you manage to sputter.

For a long moment, he studies you. Then he drags his touch down the length of your arm, to your shaking wrists. He pulls at your hands and gently drags you to sit before he settles beside you. He sinks the mattress down and you don't stop yourself from tilting and resting on him, too tired to fight anything anymore. Besides, you needed it. Needed to feel his presence, the sense of safety his energy alone provided.

When he doesn't immediately shift away, you wonder if he knows it too. Or, maybe he feels pity. Feels bad and isn't really sure what to do other than just... be there. Which doesn't necessarily not work. When your body goes lax against him, you can hear the deep, long breath that escapes him.

Relief.

Relief because finally you seem like you’re all together.

"I'm sorry for making you take care of me." You croak. "Fuck, this is so embarrassing."

"Enough of that. Relax." Ghost's voice is so quiet. You don't think you'd ever heard him bring his voice so low, barely even audible. You wonder if you'd scared him, somehow. Or perhaps he felt if he spoke too harsh, too loud, you’d be rocketed back into your spiraling.

The image of that monster you'd gone face to face with seeps into your thoughts. It sends a chill over the plains of your skin, reminds you how vulnerable to feel without a blanket on. As if he reads your mind, Ghost drags it up from the foot of the bed and drapes it over you. Even goes so far as to slightly tuck the edges haphazardly.

When you realize he goes without, you frown.

"Here," You say, lifting the side of the blanket and tossing it over his legs. Any minute now, you expect him to roll his eyes and return to his place back on the floor.

But, instead, he gets comfortable. He shifts, sinks into the bed just a little more. Breathes just a little deeper. Warmth blooms in your chest and rides straight up to your cheeks, masked by the darkness. You can't however, hide mask the smile that takes over your lips when his shoulders go slack. His head tips to rest on yours.

The world stops turning for a moment. Lost in his breathing, his heartbeat slowing in your ears. Somehow, you think deep in your mind, that perhaps this had made it all worth it. His hands rest in his lap, just as yours do.

Barely, just barely, you touch the back of your knuckles to his own and let your eyes fall shut. His skin vibrates against yours.

You aren't sure the exact moment you doze off into a quiet slumber, but you do, fit with heavy eyelashes and mirrored breaths.

[amalia-uwu]

Final Exams

Undertale by Toby Fox! The rights go to the respective owners!

Sans x Female Reader, Sans & Female Reader

Warnings ⚠️ : angst, anxiety

Photo by Pixabay from Pexels:

📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚

Inspired by fudgelling-away's comic @fudgelling-away and my exams.. :')

Sequel “Exams Day”

So, tomorrow and the day after tomorrow I'm giving finals.. I wrote this to keep my sanity. Ha!... *sighs*

Enjoy!

First Person's Point of View

.

.

I was a 5th years student in the university.

2 lessons. That's all it was for me to take my degree...

Yet, it seemed too much..

Sans.. Heh, Sans was visiting me, bringing me snacks patting my  shoulder, giving me hugs, encouraging me!

Heh, he even caught me many times not reading and just slacking off. Heh...

I always loved the face he had when he caught me red-handed.

He looked intimating yet I knew he wanted only the best for me..

I tried to read. I really tried.

But, by the time I began third year; I began feeling the grip on concentration slipping away.

So much studying. I went through everything fighting with tooth and claw for a job I loved so much.

I enjoyed reading!

Really!

Is just that now, I..am struggling..

Was it my age? Was it other problems I was trying to solve and got overwhelmed? Was it a combination?

Maybe a combination...

Now I was just tired. Everything seemed too much. Yet, I kept trying...

Even though my stomach felt like someone had made it a tight knot.. I kept trying.

Even though I felt an invisible hand gently touching my chest.. I kept trying.

Anxiety drowned me.. Squeezed me. I kept trying.

No matter what. I kept trying.

Eventually; I had enough.

It was one of these moments where I was sitting on the chair.

The book, laptop, opened in front of me.

I was reading but, the words didn't make sense.

Concentration had given up hope on me..

I lowered my face. Hands crossed on my lap. My hair covering my face. My lips in a tight line. Teeth clenched.

The air shifted, I knew who was about to appear.  "heya pal" I heard his deep soft monotone voice.

I felt a soft hand wrapping my shoulder. My hair were still covering my eyes.

"i brought you some snacks. coffee, fruits and some sweets. i see that you are studying, nice! call me if you need anything!".  He gently let the dish down with a soft sound.

He gave me a soft pat on my shoulders and let go of me.

I didn't want to speak but at the same time, it would be rude..

All this trouble for me... The least I can do is thank him.

"Thank you!" I said  softly with strain and mentally slapped myself...

Sans stopped. He turned around, something in my voice felt wrong. "are you okay?"

My shoulders began shaking. "Of course".

A couple of tears ran down my eyes. I removed my glasses.

Sans walked and stood next to me. He pulled the second chair and sat down.

He carefully brushed my hair to the side.

He gently took my face. Rough bones on my chin and cheeks. I refused to look at him.

"what's wrong?" his soft masculine voice held concern, care.

"Nothing". I said bluntly, hoping he'll go and just leave me alone!

"i'll count on 3", his phalanges moved and touched my shoulder, firmly yet gently.

Oh man; I should have known better, he won't let go so easily. I said nothing.

He began counting.

I refused to look at him and speak.

"2.5". I stayed silent.

"2.9". Ugh! I looked at him.

"Okay, I'll tell you! ". I held no malice, just slight annoyance, yet relief..

He stopped. I could understand that he was listening.

"Its the exams.. Im tired. My concentration has abandoned me... It's getting too much! I only have 2 lessons, yet I can't concentrate. I just can't... It's not like I don't want to, I can't concentrate! Plus, other worries... ".

He gently hugged me and caressed my back. Eventually I broke... I kept talking.

Telling him my fears; losing the ones I care about, staying alone, my physical appearance, my weight..

Everything, was spilled before him and he kept hugging me.

I buried my face on the crock of his neck. His soft hoodie a pleasant sensation on my face. Our sternum touched. He could feel my heartbeat on his sternum and I could feel his soul and soft magic trying to comfort me. He was warm in touch.

He waited for me too stop crying, some of my tears stained his hoodie.

He caressed my back. His phalanges through my hair.

Soon my tears faded to hiccups and shaky breaths.

He waited another couple of minutes before talking.

"assuming you fail is there another chance?" he asked pulling me away, his cyan eyes looking at my brown ones.

"Of course, either I take other lessons in summer or I give the same ones on September" I answered while cleaning my eyes with a napkin he gave me.

"okay, if you fail, is it the end of the world?" he never broke eye contact with me. I tried to keep my eyes on him but I felt shame for breaking in front of him.

"N-No..." I lowered my face. He raised it up to look at him. 

"will someone take your head?" his voice was so soft and caring...

"No.." My breathing became even.

"its gonna be okay! can you at least try?" he put both hands on my shoulders, he hugged me.

"Yes, *sniff* yes I can". I answered hugging him.

His scent sure calmed me down.

Wait... Was that a mixture of lavender and lotus? Heh... Really?

"do you like my fragrance?" he asked turning his head slightly. I nodded "Yeah.. The perfumes are comforting.. You always smell nice!".

He was silent for a while. He nerver smelled bad, even tho he could go days without a shower. He always smelled nice around me.

I could feel in my sternum, how his soul flattered. Ha! I got him shy and aaawww coochie coochie coo!

After a couple of seconds? Minutes? "go put on  one of your favorite dresses, add a little makeup and come here. im waiting". He said softly breaking the hug.

I looked at him dumbfounded but complied anyway.

I put on my blue dress with small navy blue flower designs.  I fixed my hair, added soft makeup and went to meet him.

He was waiting reading one of my books.

"I'm ready! Sorry you waited so long" I announced. He looked up at me and smiled.

"hm.. come with me". He grinned stretching his humerus.

I nodded gently holding him. I closed my eyes and I felt the wind shifting. The ground shifted under me.

"here we are" he informed.

I opened my eyes. I was at the beach, the soft breeze caressing my face. The sound of waves filled my ears.

We walked by the seaside.

Photo by Travis Rupert from Pexels:

The salty smell, the breeze, the waves, him, alleviated my worries.

"Sans?" I asked timidly.

"hm?" his attention was on me; Oh stars!! I'll never get tired of those soft cyan eyes.

"Thank you! I mean it! For everything! May I treat you with some food?" you hoped he will say yes. Come ooonnnn!!! Say yes!

He smiled and nodded "sure, got something in mind?"

"You okay with sweets?" I asked, he wasn't picky but needed to know anyway, maybe he wasn't in the mood for sweets today.

"sure" he grinned and shrugged softly.

"Waffles?" I asked fixing my glasses and playing with the end of my silk black belt.

He chuckled "heh, sure! lead the way girl" he said.

I nodded, took him by the hand and leaded him to my favorite place.

I caught a glimpse of him grinning softly.

It took some minutes for us to go there. Once we did ; We sat down, there was glass in front of us, the sea and the palm trees, the road our view.

I ordered hazelnut praline with biscuit, and caramel ice-cream waffle.

While Sans took the milk chocolate with biscuit and vanilla ice cream.

We ate and chatted a little bit. I went to the bathroom and paid as promised.

We walked a little bit then he took me home.

"Thank you Sans"

"don't mention it moonlight" heh, that was a nickname he gave me. Along with «starlight».

He knew I was a shameless selenophile (someone who loves the moon).

I entered my home, took a shower, put on my pyjamas and laid down.

I texted him

you: Thank you I had a great time with you today!

Puntastic: heh, me too! but please try to worry so much! it will be okay!

you: I'll try! Thank you again! Goodnight! Sleep well!

Puntastic: you too!

I put the phone down. I laid down and closed my eyes with a smile all over my face.

I'll try whatever happens... Happens.

It will be okay, I'll be okay!

.

.

The end 😘

Thank you for reading! 💙

[exalted-dawn-drabbles]

AND another one this fine DADWC evening - For Saeris/Talenna: "protecting you isn’t my duty. it’s my privilege."

So at first I was going to do something angsty for this but before I knew it, words were pouring out onto the page and it went in a direction entirely its own. And????? I kinda love them???? They're so cute???? Emerald Knight AU Talaeris has BotW Zelink vibes and im not at all mad about that. And now I need more of them. So thanks for that XD for @dadrunkwriting

Rated T: mild mention of nudity, and a bit of frisky flirting, 1.1k words

Privilege | By Exalted_Dawn

“Do you not grow tired of this?” 

The question felt almost small beneath the great verdant bows overhead. The sound of wind pushing through a million leaves was as consuming as the roar of the ocean. The creaking of the forest’s great oaken skeleton felt more than that of her own bones. It was a small question, asked casually as she washed herself in a docile stream, the water flowing about her hips in tickling currents. But for them, she supposed it might be rather large, as it was the first time she had spoken to him since the day after he’d been assigned to her little more than a fortnight ago. 

The silence that followed was certainly weighty. She could feel the stem of breath that marked surprise rather than purposeful ignorance. The way his attention seemed to weigh on her bare shoulders as he considered it. Considered her.

“No. I am here to protect you,” he said simply. Proudly, almost, though Talenna suspected it was likely some sort of veneer put on for her benefit. Either that or a self-made delusion so that he might stomach this otherwise debasing task. 

“Your duty is to the protection of the Dales,” she corrected, pausing briefly to dip beneath the clear water’s surface before breaking into the air once more. Water sluiced down her now soaked hair, making it cling to the planes of her back like riverweed. She shook it loose, flexing her shoulders to rid herself of the sensation. “Following around some unknown dignitary will hardly win you the honor and glory due to one of your station.”

There was another silence, but this time it was briefer. “You are granddaughter and only heir to Counselor Ethera, and Ambassador to Orzammar. Your safety is paramount to their allegiance and continued lyrium supply. You are third in line for the title of ‘Sovereign-” 

“Thank you for reciting my own rank and role to me,” she scoffed. “As though I was in need of a reminder.” 

Talenna expected that to be the end to their brief cease-silence, perhaps earning her at least a few more days of satisfaction before the looming shadow of his presence once again became too much to bear, but to her surprise, he continued. “To protect you is to protect the Dales. Ir abelas, if my being here offends your privacy, but your life is worth preserving.” 

She knew of what he spoke even though he did not say it. The event that put this ridiculous call for chaperoning into motion in the first place. 

Talenna ran her finger along her neck, where the clean-cut line of a blade wound now pinked her skin. So much fuss over a scratch. 

“Do you claim my life to be of higher worth than the farmers who work the fields, or the servants that clean the sheets? Do they not also warrant your protection?” she wondered aloud, her annoyance sharper now. “A knight of your caliber could protect us all equally fighting on the war front. Instead, you are deigned little more than a glorified child-herder. If I were you, I would be embarrassed.” 

There was another pause, and Talenna thought that surely this would be the end of their conversation, but it would seem today that her shadow was feeling particularly talkative. 

“If you intend to run me off as you have the last two guards, I am afraid your efforts will be in vain. It is my honor to be here, and I would appreciate it if you stop insulting me by insinuating otherwise.” The words were spoken with a certain edge. A bite that betrayed his offense. He was serious…? 

“‘An honor’?” she echoed, almost mockingly, but mostly bitter. “I do not see how.”

“I am not claiming that your life is of higher worth than any other, but even so, it still warrants protection. It is you who allows our mages, such as my siblings, to be strong enough to face the shemlen Templars. It is you, who preserves our history and helps advise our current Sovereign towards peace.”

She cut in. “It is my grandfather who-” He did not stop.

“While it is true that by fighting in the war, I can protect the Dales, I must do so by taking lives.” She could almost hear him shift, a rustle in the grass behind her. She wondered if she had gotten him so riled that he had turned his eyes on her at last, but she did not give in to the temptation of finding out. Her eyes stayed forward and down, watching as the water rippled with sunlight, white light winking on waves. He pressed on. “Perhaps you resent my being here, but to me, protecting you is not a duty. It is a privilege. Instead of taking lives, I get to preserve them. And in guarding you, I guard the future of the People. To me, that is no small thing.”

In the wake of her shock, Talenna considered that that was perhaps the most words she had ever heard the knight– no, Saeris– speak. But in expending so many, it would seem he stole her own, and she sat silent, unable to rebuke or mock him for such a stance. 

He was right. It was honorable. And deserved better than the scorn her annoyance reflected. 

But Talenna was proud, and let her own kept stretch of speechlessness be his victory in this. She huffed softly, but even as she rebuked him, it lacked the distinctive edge of anger, more prodding than anything. “Do not act so noble. You are simply glad for the opportunity to watch me bathe.” 

There was hardly a beat of silence. “...As I said, a privilege.”

Talenna spun so sharply around that she nearly slipped on the river rocks, spurred by the notes of warmth– of actual teasing– that lingered in the wake of such a statement. She stared blankly at him, but if he had turned to look, he was back to facing away from her now, his hands folded behind him and his shoulders straight. 

Talenna was baffled. Had Saeris just joked with her.

Almost belatedly, she gave a bemused scoff, turning back around. Dipping just a bit deeper into the water, a giddy sort of grin tipped her lips. Saeris, Sullen Sword of the Dales, had a sense of humor. Who knew? 

She turned back to look at him again, a new appreciation lighting her eyes, but he remained stalwart, not turning even a fraction of an inch towards her. It made it hard to tell, as she couldn’t see his face, but even with the roar of the canopy, Talenna could have sworn she heard it. The smallest of laughs. And she hoped, maybe, he was smiling too.

[bluecanvasshoe]

Not Ellie

a quick little story i wrote about Ellie Williams. takes place after the aquarium encounter :)

warnings: MAJOR SPOILERS FOR TLOU PART 2!!!!! angst, major character death, mentions of gagging, descriptions of injuries, hurt/no comfort, ellie is mentally not okay and what’s mentioned and talked about may be triggering, pacing is a bit weird. i’m tired

may or may not be cringe. idk. was beta read but only by one person because im scared of getting my work read by people close to me 😢 this is the first time i’ve ever posted my work online, so i’m happy to take criticism!

also. a song was added to this fic even though i never added one???? if u saw that no u didnt ignore it

——————

An overwhelming chill settled into Ellie’s bones as she weaved through the streets of Seattle. Rain pelted down around her, soaking the dirt at the bottom of potholes and pits left behind from bombs, a reminder of the government’s doings when the outbreak first began. Buildings towered over her, some crumbling and fallen, others with broken glass and fissured concrete. Dark clouds never seemed to stop coming, the cold rain never ceasing in its relentless downpour.

Her shoes squelched as she walked on cracked and worn pavement, her feet numb from the cold of rain-soaked socks and her legs sore from the long trek to that god forsaken aquarium.

The aquarium. She didn’t want to think about that place anymore, but her brain wouldn’t let her ignore what she had done. She felt like gagging whenever she remembered the woman she killed; Mel. She was pregnant. She was pregnant and she murdered her with a stone cold gaze and venom laced in her voice as she demanded information from her and Owen. She felt like she had a pit in her stomach.

This was all because of Abby. Her mind raced with ideas and ways of how and what she’d do to Abby when she got her hands on her, a blinding fury twisting and manipulating her thoughts, violent notions and images flashing in her head.

Her backpack felt like a hundred pounds on her back, her shoulders aching for a break, but she pressed on. The throbbing lacerations that covered her torso were rubbed and irritated by the heaviness of her bag and the fabric of a worn, pilling shirt with every step she took, a burning sensation settling under her skin and smoldering her flesh. Blisters throb at the back of her heels, making the trek feel longer than it is.

Silence crept up on her and if she hadn’t been listening for infected, she’s sure she would’ve gotten lost in the dark recesses of her mind that she couldn’t quite ignore anymore. It felt like her throat was closing up, like her body was trying to suffocate itself.

She breathed heavily, puffs of vapor swirling and dissipating into the air with her every exhale, the only thing that reminded her that she was alive. That this wasn’t a dream and that she was more than a walking corpse.

She dragged her feet and the more she walked, the longer she felt from the theater.

So much as existing felt impossible.

Days dragged by, even in the midst of mind-altering adrenaline rushes and near death experiences. Time seemed to have slowed itself down, no longer changing its tempo as it seemed less of a construct and became more real.

Every second she spent felt like a second wasted. Ellie believed that, if Joel were to be alive, he would’ve been disappointed. More-so than he already was.

Having to live with the thought that Joel died without an apology from Ellie tore her up both mentally and physically. Scratches and bruises reminded her of this grueling process of self-pity and a never-ending mental spiral that caused her to so blindly be thrown into danger. She hated herself for it. Joel would never hear her apology.

Joel died thinking she was angry at him.

Joel died thinking that, no matter what he could have done, she would’ve hated him in the end regardless.

Ellie was left behind in the mansion that day.

The woman who killed so many without so much as a second thought, who looked at her hands and thought of all the people who felt her cold, merciless grip instead of the arms of their loved ones around them before taking a last breath is not the girl who loved dinosaurs and space. Not the girl who’s been dead for months.

When she looked up and saw her reflection in an intact window that was embedded into the fractured wall of a bottom-floor apartment building, she didn’t recognize whoever stared back.

The monster that drilled holes into her eyes is not her.

Not Ellie.

If Joel was alive, he’d hate her. He’d look at her with disgust at what she had become.

She wouldn’t blame him.

[nobodyaskedmeifiwasokay]

sick

i always feel like shit. day after day. it always my head aching, or my bones, im either fatigued or restless. all the muscles in my body have atrophied. my joints are constantly popping. and fuck, my head always hurts. my heart hurts. i can feel it racing as if im alive, but ive felt dead for many, many moons. my heart has gone cold over time, i have no room and no hope for love or being loved. i couldnt possibly be loved by someone let alone be accepted. im just too damn weird. ive always known myself to be weird, but i mask it extremely- even scarily well. i always feel like shit. my body is never propelled to do or pursue anything. i have to force it. some days i cant even drag myself out of bed. those are my darkest days. i know what i am and what i want to be. that has been my biggest struggle my whole life. i dont think nor function the same as everyone else. i dont even function, i always feel like shit. im always going back and forth between crippling depression and delusions of grandeur. i can never sleep. i can never sleep right. i always feel like shit. my self esteem is in the gutter. i never thought it would still be so low this far into adulthood. i always did doubt and question myself, more than whats considered a healthy amount. my stomach is never truly satisfied unless its completely empty. something thats never empty is my damn mind. im always over analyzing, obsessing, lying to myself, making up scenarios. i fear a lot too. i fear so much in this twisted world. i fear being a victim, to many things. the horrors of this world... i always feel like shit. ive been consumed by lonlieness. i dont talk to anyone anymore. im not seeing anyone. no one thinks about me... its a scary feeling, realizing just how alone you are. i havent been okay for many, many years. i know i need help. i know it so bad. but nobody cares enough, if at all. i cant even afford to pay someone to care. i cant do anything i just cant. theres so much i want to do but i just feel incapable.. constantly. i either mentally or physically cant- or both. im so tired. im so tired. my heart is tired. i always feel like shit.

[vtoriacore-rbs]

tw. ed + whatever the fuck is wrong w me in general. id actually advise against reading this but this helps get things off my chest.

me slipping back into old ed habits bc my intrusive thoughts actually ended up triggering me 💀💀💀 i went on a 2 day fast and only had mineral water and i feel both proud and horrified that ive allowed myself to do that so now im eating healthy things to kinda make up for it but anyways i weighed myself too even tho i said i wouldn't. like i know i shouldn't feel happy over the fact i starved and weakened my body on purpose but it feels nice to stick to something and actually have some discipline back in my life.

had a breakdown too earlier for no reason (altho im on my period so maybe that's why, fuck you uterus btw there is no us only u someone remove this thing PLEASE). like bro some bitch in college also was telling me how she was losing weight and she deadass told me that my ribcage sticking out was so aesthetic and it just enabled me, we only spoke 3 times before that and im pretty sure she has an ed too bc she kept trying to get my measurements??? she also said she'd sacrifice two of her ribs to get a waist like mine and i know she meant it as a compliment but i wanted to cry and felt low-key ashamed like i hate when people point out my physical appearance and i was stretching i didn't even mean for my shirt to go higher up it was so uncomfy. it's weird tho cause when i starve myself i feel happy abt it but when other people point it out and praise me for it i get really mad. maybe it's bc i discourage eds and im very pro-recovery but anyways that was a weird comment™ i think it played into the breakdown. she tried grabbing my wrist several times and i told her to stop trying to touch me but she wouldn't stop either and was like "just for a second please" like i felt so icky bc of that too like bitch hands off before i retaliate <3 so yeah now im trying to eat again but honestly i feel like im gonna throw up bc i didn't eat for 2 days lmao and the entire day today i felt so dizzy. like yesterday was fine but today ?? no. my muscles hurt so bad so im gonna have a 50g protein shake too ugh im so tired. gonna try get up to 1000 kcal at least and make the deficit up over the weekend bc my stomach physically hurts when i try to eat (but this strawberry yogurt bangs even tho im half full already).

ive been slipping back into an ed mindset over the last month tho even with my binges and i just wanna look ill enough for one of my doctors finally tell me im underweight enough they didn't even acknowledge i was severely underweight 3-4 years ago that felt so humiliating and now im thinking along the lines of "i need to be a better anorexic" even tho its fucked up and like im trying to just snap myself out of this mindset but it's not working so im gonna have to get a therapist potentially. bc i don't want my organs and bones failing but at the same time, i wanna make sure doctors take me seriously this time and maybe it'll be a fucking reminder to take eds seriously. it actually pisses me off hos insensitive some doctors are about eds and the fact they indirectly fucking allow it sometimes too like. just bc im not in a critical condition and only like 3/4kgs underweight doesn't mean i don't have an ed or that it isn't "severe enough" smh this annoys me so much.

if you read it up to here don't worry ill be fine, a bitch always pulls thru and these are just momentary lapses in judgement im not letting mental illness win im too fucking good for this (<- motivating myself kinda feel better after writing this NGL).

[fraener]

1/27/25

ive been thinking it was the 27th for so many days in a row this week...not sure why. i fell a little ill the last few days, stomach trouble and that strange anxiety and bad taste in the back of the throat the roughens the edges of everything when there's a virus present in the body. duncan died a few days ago. i laid with p, s won't talk to me. i wrote a joyous recounting of it in here a few days ago but didnt save it before my computer shut down and so enough time has passed for me to be too afraid of the joy we shared enough to record it. what a sad thing to write. its been bright, the ice never leaves the shadows and each morning everything is blanketed in a fine blue frost. i didnt want to have my heart broken right now. im not sure p knows how to close a door once its been opened. i think he might be a little in love with me, a melancholy thing. how i wish i could reciprocate. how i wish we could go on and face the world together, that he wasnt leaving, that i could hold him. he kept saying the cat was already out of the bag. he feels strong in his desire, optimistic in his declaration. ive been withholding, i know. i dont want to fight to matter outside of his love for me. i dont want to fight to be considered as an individual. im supposed to see him today, i can tell he wants comfort. i am deciding whether i want to see him today more than i want to avoid seeing him today. i think i will cry either way. i dont think i can just take a nap and wake up into a day i can handle today, because i dont think ill really feel better about tomorrow, either. im tired of my body being treated as a dirty thing that taints and becomes tainted. i dont know what to do. i dont like being asked to choose, i dont like being treated like i dont have any influence, either. im so sad about duncan. i just sort of want to be left alone today. mostly because i dont think anyone could take care of me through this. i want to be given the consideration they give one another, but i am being pushed to the side like im a nuisance. im "just one more thing to deal with" according to s. theres no way to have my influence felt i dont think, all i can do is say how i feel to p, maybe text s later and tell her that im really hurt by being brushed off. i dont think i will say anything to her because she already said she didnt want to talk to me and i dont want to beg for something she doesnt want to offer. i wont be made to beg.

moments after this earlier entry, he broke things off with me. i realized in that conversation i wouldnt just be satisfied with what he could offer anyways, i would always want more than what he could give me if he continues to live the way he does. ive never known what its like really to have a companion like s is to him, i have f and thats close enough to understand on some level. but we have always gone from one another and come back in comfort and trust. eating p was like eating candied violets with my hands from a wooden bowl at c.b's table in the dim light of candlefire and dusk. can i remember that well enough for my heart to stop breaking? i felt the shift of all my little shadows reaching for him at once- no longer hands outstretched to r...can i forgive that i was shown something so beautiful and delicious and pristine and without fault and then only later be shown id likely never see it again? i can candy violets, i cannot find a replacement for what he did to my body and soul. i found a new trail at the back of the yogurt bones field and all i could think was how i wanted to bring him there, but i doubt well ever go at the time of year i pictured. ive been waiting what feels like my whole life thus far for june. will it come? its there every time i close my eyes. he loved when i told him that, that every moment i turned away i was sure it was june behind my back. i want to know what joy that june really contains. a long road to anew and unknowable. washed clean by another wave of slander and scrutiny....wonder how few friends ill have at the other end of this one lol. scorned whore yet again its like an award i cant stop winning

i want to record that all the cards ive drawn about him today indicated a great threat coming in the form of a seduction, something i want desperately that will ruin everything for me if i pursue it and leave me with nothing. i feel like this warning is coming too late but i fear for whats to come. the cards have also said i will be betrayed, slandered, and used...and a period of solitude is going to ensue. all the signs are kind of pointing to stay the fuck away from these people but its so hard to say no to something you want so so badly. i know that he cant actually give me what im looking for and i dont feel like i want to just be used right now for the betterment of his relationship with someone else. i want to trust him so badly. i want to so badly i dont know if i can stop myself from just falling for it all over again. because i would ruin everything for him, in this moment, knowing what i know. all he would have to do is say the word and i would go with him nearly anywhere. and he never will, and if he does it will be false, and i have to put it out of my mind and know that it will never, ever happen again. hope to be putting it behind me like it never did.

[ghostiebopper]

today sucked major ass, actually

i woke up around 2am and didnt get back to sleep for hours

i eventually did get more sleep. but my fitbit didnt log it so i have no idea how much. not sure whats going on with that. its not logging my temperature either, suddenly?

anyway. today actually didnt start badly. i was in a good mood! i was nice n warm, i had a kitty companion with me.

i got up, got breakfast, worked on the pc for a bit, got dressed, made lunch, did chores...and then its 3pm, and im fucking exhausted. i had other stuff to do (was gonna get the trash bins) but at that point i was. drained

so i laid down. i took a little nap. i dont usually do that because it tends to affect my nighttime sleep but i was Quite Exhausted, physically and mentally drained, for...not much of an actual reason.

woke up after less than an hour and felt better. laid there for a bit, chilling on my phone, because i DID feel nice and warm and have a little more energy, but i was also still Exhausted and my Body Hurt.

at this point, it's about 5pm. i need to get up, so i do.

i still need to get the bins back to the patio. i put on thick winter socks, put my sweater back on, and head downstairs.

i get to the bottom of the top half of the stairs before the landing and i slipped. this has happened before. i was okay, i think i'm fine? nothing feels broken or otherwise notably painful.

actually, my limbs feel heavy. slightly numb. my hands and feet feel a little off but thats not honestly new after slipping (though somewhat new within the last 48 hours). and i was still quite exhausted, when i slipped, and was on carpeted stairs in some thick socks. so i slipped down the last few steps, and slammed my foot into the wall/a grocery cart, fell on my right hand, and also my ass. i didnt hit my head or anything.

i was just kind of shocked, hoping i didnt just make my 5 million current issues (this is an exaggeration) suddenly worse as a result of breaking any bones. anyway, mom heard me fall from the bathroom and she panicked and went "WHAT WAS THAT!?!?" and, dear reader, that is what set me off.

"i fell! leave me alone!" i shouted. i was still trying to assess myself but the stress of the whole day (which didnt seem like much but apparently was more than i thought) was suddenly hitting me. i felt nauseous. i was trying to make sure i didnt break any bones, and mom just kept badgering me, asking me questions i wasnt able to answer, and i snapped, saying "leave me alone!! i don't know if i'm okay!! leave me alone!!!"

i get that she was worried but the way she immediately started to panic and her anxiety started to affect me was painful. i needed a minute and i was struggling to express that. i needed her to back off.

i started to cry because she would not back off and i was so tired, and so stressed, and now my stomach hurt, and i felt sick, and i was in pain, and everything was so much. eventually, i was able to get up. i was okay, even though the stress was now very sickening. but i didnt want to just sit there and stew in it.

i decided to try to retrieve the bins once more. i put my shoes on, my coat, tried to ignore mom still probing me (and then her suddenly dropping "oh yeah, they put your aunt's dog down" thank you that makes me feel so much better.) and went to get the bins.

and it was dark and pouring rain. so i went and i just sort of took a seat, still in my coat, and went on my phone while i tried to quell the urge to vomit. it's been about 20 minutes and the stress is not much better. i felt oddly cold, and also like bawling my fucking eyes out.

maybe it's that i had a bit of a down day, today. maybe i wasnt as busy as i have been for the past like 5 days straight (appointments, errands, chores, etc) and so something like my seasonal depression snuck through the cracks. maybe the medication i just started about two days ago is affecting me weirdly. only time will tell, i suppose.

i wish i could go into a coma for about 12 hours though. i wonder if in that time my body would have enough time to get it's shit together long enough so that i do not end up in the current state of mental and physical exhaustion i am in.

because during times like this, the thought of "god i want to fucking kill myself" is prevalent and it's concerning. not to an extent that makes me go "hm. hospital!" but one that's more like "hm. not really sure i should be hearing that in my own head with increasing regularity!" so. you know.

maybe it's the time of year. maybe it's the mounting stack of concerns regarding my own health, and the stress of wondering how these things will affect me in the longer-term. maybe (and most likely) it's everything, but what can i do besides try to stay on top of it? i'm doing my best, and a lot of the time, i feel like i'm actually doing pretty damn good.

but days like today make me wonder if it's enough. days like today make me want to stop. days like today make me want to sleep for hours and hours and hours and do absolutely nothing.

i'm not going to do that, because it would undo all of my progress.

this got long and i dont have the energy to really edit or give much of a shit, at this point.

tomorrow: haircut, back to the grocery store, and...trying to stay busy, i suppose.

okay bye.