#STOP MAKING ME SLEEP I WANT TO TALK ABOUT MY MENTALLY ILL CREATURES..

[4sh--tr4y]

Me, talking to my friend at like 12:30am (I am very tired for some reason??)

...

Me, waking up: What a nic-

sees my phone beside me on my bed (meaning I passed out on my phone)

Me: ARE YOU FUCKING KI-

[thechangeling]

If I keep my Eyes Closed

Holy shit it's been a minute. I'm sorry I am ✨Mentally Ill✨ and I also had a bad case of writers block. But here we are! Also if you recognize the slight Buffy the vampire slayer reference you get a metaphorical cookie.

Cw: meltdown

Chapter 6: You better make me better

+1.  Ty had a scar on the top of his collarbone. It wasn't super big or noticable. Just a little slit of white. Kit doubted most people would have even noticed. Unless of course you were completely fucking obsessed like him.

He had been trying to stay focused on the meeting. Imminent death and all. That was kind of a big deal. But he just couldn't stop staring at Ty and thinking about what Alyssa had said. There was this knee jerk reaction to not believe anything she said about Ty because it just couldn't be true. Not for any of the reasons she thought but because Kit just wasn't the person you fell madly in love with.

Kit was useful. Kit was good for certain things. And yeah sure there were people who cared about him now. He was starting to realize over the years, with the help of therapy that the shit his dad put him through was less then ideal. And he was worthy of love.

He still felt weird thinking that but he was sort of hoping that if he just said it in his head enough times it would stick. But the thing was, Ty was, well ty. Beautiful and brilliant Ty. Innovative, curious and adventurous Ty with so much light and life buzzing inside of him. Messy imperfect and stubborn Ty who could be so tender and then so damn cold when he wanted to be.

How could Kit ever deserve that? Ty's love?

And based on what Alyssa said, how the hell was Kit worthy of that? That all encompassing, consuming love?

The meeting adjourned for the night and Janessa gave him a look that he knew meant "I know you weren't paying attention you idiot." He smirked at her, trying to seem casual.

"You going to sleep? She asked. "I'm going out. Gonna see if there's any good bars around here. You know, creature of the night and all."

Kit shook his head. "No sorry Nessie, there's something I gotta do." He felt guilty for blowing off his best friend but he was worried that if he didn't talk to Ty now he would loose his nerve .

Janessa nodded almost knowingly. "Good luck with that."

She walked off and Kit immediately turned back to the crowd of people heading off to their respective rooms. He spotted Ty off in the corner talking to Livvy and Alyssa, which had to be tricky since they couldn't see each other. Eventually Alyssa hugged Ty, pressing a kiss to his check which still made Kit angry, and left the room.

Kit realized it wasn't actually the affection he was jealous off. It was the trust. Ty trusted her completely. And Kit had lost that. And he needed to get it back. Whatever it took.

And then Ty looked at him and his heart stopped. Because Ty wasn't just looking at him, he was staring directly into his eyes for the first time in years.

Kit had forgotten how to breathe. His eyes were so striking. So gray. Like the colour of iron. Ty had always reminded him of iron. Strength and resilience. It may bend but it does not break.

But was that really true? Or was Ty just pretending to be unbreakable?

Kit had no idea what to do or say, so he just stood there staring at Ty. It was like they were frozen in time. Honestly Kit could have stayed there forever just staring at Ty.

Finally Ty broke the silence and pulled his face into a scowl. "What is it?"

Kit flinched at the harshness in his voice. He knew what Alyssa had said, that he was just protecting himself but that didn't stop Kit from feeling so vulnerable and scared.

So he was still a bit of a pussy. Sue him.

But in his defense Ty was kind of scary when he wanted to be. Kit cleared his throat.

"I need to talk to you," he said firmly. It was only then that he realized Livvy had disappeared from Ty's side.

Ty looked confused. "Why?" He asked. "Why now? You have been avoiding me for weeks Christopher."

Kit scoffed. "You've been avoiding me too you know!"

Ok so this wasn't exactly going according to plan. But sometimes Ty just pushed his buttons a little too well.

Kit took a deep breath. "Listen I'm sorry ok? About all of it. I'm sorry for leaving and I'm so sorry I hurt you." He could hear the desperation creeping into his voice. "Believe me that was the last thing I wanted. I just-" he shook his head. "I got scared. I got so scared of something happening to you and I froze up and just lost my shit. And it was like you didn't even care."

Ty's brow furrowed. "I did care. I do care. Why else would I be here?"

Kit sighed. "I know! Believe me I get it now! Or maybe not fully but I know I read things wrong. But I need you to know that it wasn't about you Ty, it was about me. Me and my own insecurities." Kit took a step towards Ty. He didn't back away.

And Kit could see it now, what he couldn't before. There was a longing depth in Ty's gaze and his jaw was clenched like he was trying to keep walls up. His arms were wrapped around himself and he seemed to be pulling at the skin.

He was hurting and Kit just wanted to make it better.

"Listen to me," Kit said carefully. "I love you Ty. I am in love with you." His chest aches as he says it, heavy with the weight of it. But he needs Ty to hear him this time. He needs to know.

"Stop it," Ty growled. And whatever Kit thought Ty's reaction would be to hearing those words, he didn't think it would be anger. Ty glared at him furiously, angrier that Kit had ever seen him before.  "Just stop."

And if Kit was smart or even remotely sane, he would have. But he just couldn't.

"I love you," he declared again desperately. "I love you so much."

Ty snarled, balling his hands into fists. "Stop!"

Kit shook his head softly. "I love you."

Ty lashed out at the speed of lightning, grabbing Kit's shoulders and spinning him around so that his back slammed against the wall. Before he could even register what was happening he felt a blade kissing his throat.

"Shut up!" Ty pleaded. His voice sounded less angry and more desperate and shaking now.

Kit could remember the last time he was in this position. The very first time they met, a shadowhunter he had never met before pulled a weapon on him and he wasn't scared, he wasn't furious. He was just in awe.

How beautiful.

"I love you Ty, He gasped breathlessly, willing Ty to believe him. To feel it. "I swear to you I'm not lying. I. Love. you."

Ty trembled, the blade he was holding pressing even harder again Kit's throat. His eyes were full of tears. Kit felt a pang in his chest. Ty hardly ever cried.

He was well aware that Ty could take his head off like this, or slit his throat and let Kit bleed out. Kit didn't care.

If he was going to die, he wanted these to be his last words.

"I love you Ty," he whispered. 

Ty let out a whine as his body shook. The hand holding the knife was practically vibrating.

And then Kit felt it. A sharp pain at his throat, followed by a wet feeling. It probably should have bothered him more him more.

But the most concern he felt was when he saw Ty's eyes widen in horror when he saw that he had drawn blood. He let out a panicked wail.

"Hey," Kit cooed gently. "I'm ok." He gripped Ty's wrist carefully, leading the knife away from him. "I'm ok Ty."

He had no idea if that was actually true but he really didn't give a crap. What Kit cared about was the way Ty had dropped the knife and anxiously fluttering and tapping his fingers. He rolled his shoulder up to his ear, scrunching up his face.

"Hey," Kit murmered desperately, trying not to scare Ty. "It's ok baby, I'm ok." He tried to reach for him but Ty flinched out of his grasp whining again. Tears were streaming down his face.

Kit's heart felt like it was breaking. "Ty it's gonna be ok," he pleaded, but Ty just shook his head frantically and pulled at his hair. Kit slowly took another step towards him.

"Please just tell me what to do."

But Ty just sobbed, gasping for air. Kit reached for him again and took Ty into his arms and this time he didn't fight him. Kit wrapped himself around Ty and squeezed as tightly as he could. Ty buried his face in Kit's neck and wailed, a sound so full of fury and agony. It was a sound that Kit had heard many times when his friends or other autistic people were having meltdowns.

Kit pressed a kiss to the side of his head like he had seen Alyssa do. "It's ok sweetheart just let it out," he whispered. "I love you."

Ty gasped, taking frantic breaths. "I can't," he whimpered. "I can't. It's not safe."

Kit had no idea what Ty meant by that. Alyssa would know his traitorous brain whispered. But he wasn't Alyssa. He was Kit, and he needed to trust that was good enough for Ty. That he was what Ty wanted.

He held him tighter, running a gang through Ty's hair. "Yes it is," he breathed. "You are safe with me Ty. You are always safe with me."

Kit had no idea how long he stayed like that, just holding Ty in his arms. Time seemed to just fade away. He still remembered the first time. When they were both still so young and had no idea what was in store for them. When he had no idea what he was feeling, why he felt so compelled to stay.

Ty's cries were lessening now, Kit could feel his heart racing against his. It was almost as if they were both trying to break free and merge. Ty sighed and wiped his eyes on Kit's shirt, finally staring at him again.

"You're bleeding," He pointed out.

Oh yeah. Right.

Kit realized with a laugh that he had completely forgotten. Ty looked confused.

"Don't worry," he smiled. "It doesn't hurt anymore."

Ty wasn't convinced. "Still, you should let me give you an iratze," he protested. "I should never have-"

Kit cut him off. "It's ok, I'm fine Ty. Really."

Ty gave him a small smile and cupped his cheek, tracing over Kit's orbital bone with his thumb. Kit felt his heart soar.

"Ty," he said quietly not wanting to break the peace. "I need to ask you something. Please."

"Yes?" Ty looked scared.

"I don't want to upset you again, said Kit carefully. "But I just need to know. I think I already know the answer but I need to hear you say it. Just once and then you never have to say it again." Kit slid his hands up Ty's arms.

"Do you love me?" Kit murmered. It was what he should have asked that day on the beach. But then again Ty might not have been ready to answer. He might not even have known the answer yet.

Ty was silent. For several agonizing seconds he said nothing. Then he pressed his forehead to Kit's and whispered so quietly that Kit wouldn't have heard him if he wasn't so close.

"I love you."

Kit couldn't help himself. He sobbed, letting four years of misery and anguish come pouring out.

For years now he had been dreaming of Ty saying those words to him. Each time Kit would wake up in tears because he was so sure those dreams could never be reality.

Ty nudged his nose against Kit's. "Don't cry."

Kit choaked on a laugh. Easier said than done.

Ty cupped his face gently, stroking his cheek. " Please don't cry," Ty whispered.

And then he kissed him.

Ty's lips crashed into his and for a moment Kit's heart stopped before he felt a surge of emotion propelling him into action. He passionately returned the kiss, pulling Ty even closer and getting lost in his warmth.

Nothing else mattered. Ty loved him. Ty loved him. And he could feel it so clearly in the urgency and gentleness of his touch. In the way he licked into Kit's mouth and deepened their kisses like he was trying to devour Kit. Devour him whole.

The world faded to nothing as they kissed feverishly, clawing at each others skin. It was intoxicating. It felt like Ty was touching every single nerve in his body. Kit felt Ty's run his hands through his curls and pull. He let out a slight moan in response.

He could still feel their hearts racing together as Ty pinned him firmly against the wall. He broke the kiss and smiled slightly, something Kit rarely saw especially lately.  It made him want to smile too.

It always did. Ty's happiness was like a balm for the soul.

Ty leaned in again and kissed the spot above the corner of Kit's mouth. One of his freckles, Kit realized.

Kit sighed. His head was spinning. He felt so light, like he was floating. Like he finally knew it was gonna be ok. He was gonna be ok.

It felt like coming home.

*Five years later*

Ty had always been fascinated with the night sky, even as a child. He loved to look up at the stars and trace the various constellations with his gaze, even making up new ones. He would draw specific patterns, organizing them into groups and categories.

Or he would count them.

Livvy always thought it was ridiculous.

You can't count them all Ty-Ty. That's impossible.

It's not about counting all of them, He would say. I just like to count them. It calms my mind.

Then Livvy would giggle and say how ironic that was seeing how much he hated math.

Ty could look back on the memory know with fondness and smile instead of being overcome with grief. He had lost Livvy some time ago, a few months after he and Kit had entered a romantic relationship. The connection had become too weak and it wasn't safe to attempt to keep her with them.

It was painful. But this time it was almost bearable. Like there was some part of him that had been preparing for that moment for awhile. And he still grieved, in the sense that he was fine for weeks and then it hit him like a tsunami. And the he cried. He screamed. He yelled and lashed out any anyone nearby.

But through it all, Kit was always there. His fiance now. The word still brought a bubbly giddy feeling. It was almost ridiculous how much Kit Herondale had an affect on his emotions. He could completely take Ty over and Ty wouldn't mind.

Speaking of...

"Hey!" Kit called from up ahead, "look what I found!"

They were walking along the beach at night eager to take a break from the party that was going on back at the institute. It was Helen's birthday and Aline had insisted on inviting everyone they knew, which of course resulted in enough noise and chaos that they could still hear it on the beach.

Kit had run ahead as he had a tendency to do on occasion and now was returning with something in his hands. A turtle, Ty realized. The sight instantly brought on fond memories, memories of when things were still new and they barely knew each other. But it still felt right. It still felt safe.

"I've decided to name him Murtle," Kit said cheerfully. "Murtle the turtle."

Ty shook his head fondly. "How do you know it's a male turtle? Should you really be assuming the turtle's gender?"

"Oh fuck off," Kit replied lightheartedly. "What can I say, I got a feeling. You wanna hold Murtle?" He held the very unimpressed looking turtle out to Ty.

Ty grinned, taking Murtle out of Kit's out stretched palms. "Of course I do."

"That's the smile," Kit murmered, almost to himself. "You smiled the same way the first time I saw you holding a turtle."

"I was just thinking about that!"

Kit gazed at him lovingly, his eyes so full warmth and devotion. "I swear Ty, sometimes it's like the only reason I get out of bed in the morning. For a change to see that smile."

Ty's chest clenched. He thought of his own dark days with cloudy thoughts and heavy limbs. "I know how you feel," he murmered. He cupped the side of Kit's neck and leaned down to brush his lips against his.

"Excuse me?" A timid voice sounded beside them. They both turned to look.

She appeared to be a girl about Mina's age, around 9 years old. She had two puncture wounds that had scarred over on her neck.

A vampire.

Ty had always known that there were vampires trapped in child form for eternity. He had just never actually seen one up close. She could technically be hundreds of years old and she looked like a little girl.

It was quite fasinating.

Ty resisted the urge to ask her any questions that might be deemed inappropriate.

"Hello," he responded cautiously. Ty then realized he was still holding Murtle the turtle. Kit glanced over at him and seemed to realize this as well.

"Oh. Yeah uh, Ty you should probably go put Murtle back while I talk to Sarah."

Kit knew her?

"Wait," the girl (Sarah his brain supplied) spoke up. "I actually just wanted to ask you about your necklace," she pointed to the Herondale pendent resting against Ty's chest. "Does that mean you're engaged?"

Ty tried not to laugh as the Deja Vu hit him. He could remember clear as day all those years ago every time people assumed he and Kit were together

He looked over at Kit who looked nervous, almost as if he was afraid of what Ty's answer would be. That wiped any amusement from the situation.

Because Ty knew what he was thinking about. All of those times people made those assumed at reacted in anger and annoyance. Maybe even what may have seemed like disgust.

It was fear. Ty always knew that. Fear of being vulnerable, of admitting what he wanted. He never wanted to make Kit feel like he was ashamed of him or of his love for him.

Ty wanted to spend the rest of his life bathing Kit in his love so that he never felt alone or afraid ever again.

He reached for Kit's hand and squeezed it tightly, turning back to Sarah with a proud smile.

"Yes we are."

And we're done y'all! Btw if you're wondering I got the name Murtle from the Dr. Suess novel Yurtle the turtle.

Tagging: @lavender-scented-rat   @littlx-songbxrd @queenlilith43 @arangiajoan  @tired-vin @phoenix-and-dragon @amchara @wagner-fell @sandersgrey @the-wckd-powers @spooky-drusilla @unhinged-aroace @the-blackdale @have-a-holly-jolly-angstmas

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

From Eden: Four

Warnings: noncon sexual acts, mentions of mental illness, grieving, trauma, panic attack; delusion, manipulation, drugging, intimidation.

This is dark!Bucky Barnes. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The mc suffers from agoraphobia. After a new neighbour moves in across the street, her home becomes even more of a prison.

Note: Well, here’s the next chapter of this creeper story and this one even had me a little shook.

Thank you so much for your patience! And support!!

As always, if you are so inclined, please like, reblog, and comment. <3

Transcript:

Sunday

It’s Sunday now and she’s asleep. At last. She wouldn’t drink the tea so I had to make her. I promised her it was just chamomile to keep her calm, a half-lie. Now she’s sleeping, her soft breaths against my elbow as I sit with her.

She screamed when she found me in the house. Then the panic made it hard for her to breathe and I had to count with her. She couldn’t even remember what came after three so I kept my hand over her mouth until she was woozy and weak. Now the pills will keep her asleep until I’m ready. Until she’s ready. I found the old bottle in her cupboard, if they’re expired, that means they might not last.

I read it all. These pages of her thoughts. She’s so alone, so confused she can’t even see that I only want to take care of her. That she needs me. Her doctor, her caretaker, they can’t really help her. I know it better than anyone. 

A diagnosis does nothing, hell, this journal does nothing. The doctors say writing down the  mess helps sort it all out. What a bunch of liars. And what can they do for her but keep her in this house all alone and take her inheritance. That’s all they want, to be paid for their empty words. 

She doesn’t have to pay me, I will help her.

Monday

She tried to scream when she woke up. I had to cover her mouth again and hold her down in her bed. I hated it, seeing her so afraid. She didn’t stop flailing and the tears trickled down her cheeks and temples in her terror. I hushed her and begged her to be quiet, she did but her round eyes assured me she was still afraid.

I let her sit up as I took away my hand. I never meant to touch her with that one. The metal is so harsh and inhuman, I only want her to feel me. 

She mopped her face as I looked through the closet and I found a pretty dress with the same purple colour as the pansies I brought her all those weeks ago.

I gave it to her and told her to get dressed while I called Tisha. I assured her that the girl is okay, she is, she’s safe and she has me. The doctor’s happy to have someone there with her and added that she’s even more happy that she’s warming up to me. 

She mentioned it was tough for the girl to trust men. I can’t blame her, I have met too many evil ones too.

Now she’s sitting at the table and eating some pancakes with blueberry syrup. She keeps looking at me and I see her eyes linger on the journal. 

I told her I just want to know her and this is the best way. If she won’t talk to me, I need to learn about her another way. The more I read, the more I realise we’re so much alike.

She’s so precious, the way her tongue flicks over her lips to lick up up the sticky syrup. She trembles just a little as she cuts the fluffy pancakes with her forks and stabs them. 

This place needs a good cleaning. It’s stuffy and dusty and smells of mildew. It will give me something to do then maybe we can sort out the garden. I didn’t realise picking those tulips would leave such a mess. Well, I could find some sunflowers to replant from the garden center down at the depot. I think she’ll like that.

She’s crying again.

Tuesday

I had to give her more of the pills. After Tisha came by to evaluate her and Lorena dropped off the groceries, I saw how fidgety she was. Her voice shook as she spoke with them and I worked on fixing that shed window once and for all. 

The doctor commented on how kind that was but it had to be done. This place really needs to be fixed up. How could such a precious creature live like this for so long? How could she be hidden away from the world when she’s so beautiful? I know why. I see it in her eyes, the same deep cracks I see in my own. She’s been hurt.

When Lorena was finally gone and we were alone, she began to sob and even hit me. She tried to push me away and told me to go. I had to stop her, I had to…

I don’t want to write about what I had to do but I didn’t hurt her. I just made sure she stopped and I got her some more tea. She drank it as she sniffled and I watched her as she set down the mug. It wasn’t long before she slumped and began to snore.

I pulled her down so she’s comfortable across the couch, a pillow under her head with the little throw over her middle. She looks peaceful. While she’s sleeping, I’ll make some dinner and maybe a dessert. She has lots of cookbooks around here. I want her to realise everything I can do for her, that she doesn’t have to do everything alone.

Wednesday

I don’t know what happened. I wasn’t thinking.

She didn’t wake up for dinner so I left it in the stove to keep warm. I ate when my stomach began to grumble and the tart I made wasn’t too bad, just a little dry. I got washed up and came out to check on her again. She was still dead out so I moved her over and sat to feel her breath against my fingers.

I couldn’t help but admire her as she slumbered. I felt her soft lips and had to poke my finger just inside. I felt the stirring and I knew I should go, get dressed and come back to take her to bed. She could have her dinner tomorrow.

But I didn’t. 

It was so fast. It hurt how hard I suddenly was as I let my hand wander along her throat and down her chest. I peeked under her shirt, she’s very womanly, so soft and warm. I did stop…

For a couple minutes. I don’t know. It felt so weird. Like I wasn’t me, like it wasn’t my body. It felt like those days when my mind wasn’t my own and I just watched from the side as horrible things happened. As I did those things.

My hand was between her legs before I realised it. I rubbed her warm cunt, I couldn’t get enough of it. It was so soft, so wet, so welcoming. I rubbed and rubbed until I heard her low breaths hitch.

She didn’t wake, the pills heavy on her eyelids still. I pulled open my towel and pulled her hand against my cock. She touched me too, I helped her as she slept. I moved her hand as my own continued to explore her. Her body twitched and she came as hre bud throbbed beneath my fingertips.

I came too and watched the ropes drip down her hand. I kept her hand around me, moving it until I was so oversensitive and tender that I gasped. Her hand was slick with me and the sight of her glistening palm is intoxicating. My cum is still there on her hand. 

She’s on the couch still. I don’t know what will happen if I move her to the bed. I’m afraid to find out… but excited too.

Thursday

Today was a good day!

I took her out to the garden to see the flowers I ordered. I still can’t leave her, she’s not ready. I helped her plant them and her hand kept touching mine. She would flinch but I saw the way she pressed her fingertips to her palm after as if basking in it.

When we finished, she even made lunch. We sat and ate, quietly, but I don’t mind. I’m not very talkative either and I understand, a lot has changed in a life that hasn’t changed for a very long time. 

As she finished her soup, dipping the crusts of her sandwich into the tomato broth, I went to the living room and looked at the old victrola. I knelt to examine the records and I knew many of them to my delight. This place reminds me of a lot of things, as if I’ve found everything that I lost.

She came and watched me from the door. When she’s nervous, she moves around a lot and she teetered on her feet as she clasped her hands. I smiled at her, I wanted her to smile back but she just blinked.

“What’s your favourite?” I asked, “you have Garland? Sinatra? Armstrong?”

“I like them all,” her voice was so thin I barely heard it.

I took out a Louis Armstrong vinyl and dropped the needle. She shied away as I went to her but that’s how the girls always were at the dance hall. I took her hand and she didn’t resist further. I drew her to me and led her as her untrained feet tried not to stomp on mine. For a moment, I was back there again, before the war, before the uniform, before the train.

It was just me and my gal! 

Friday

Last night, I gave her more pills. I caught her in the garden just after dinner. I was washing up and she snuck out like a naughty child. She was by the gate when I came out, peering out into the street. The new lock was still in place, the one she doesn’t have the key to.

She began to cry as I told her to come back in. She said she wanted to leave if I wouldn’t. I told her she was being dramatic and she needed her tea. She said she’s afraid of me. Afraid? What have I done but taken care of her when her doctor and caretaker can only be bothered when they ‘have time’.

She calmed down and drank her tea and had some of the tart. She liked it a lot and I said I’d get more strawberries, she didn’t need to send Lorena this time. She’s in bed now, still asleep.

Later

I thought I heard her so I went to check on her. She had kicked off her blankets, she must have been hot. So I pulled out a night gown from her dresser and took off her jeans and her shirt. It took me a moment to process her nakedness and I got that same tingle from nights ago.

I couldn’t help but touch her just a little. She was wet again, as if she was expecting it. So long together and I can’t blame her for wanting me but I know she’s too shy to say it. When she’s awake, she just gets in her own way.

I’m not going to make excuses. I lost control. I touched myself too and before I knew it I was on top of her. She was still only in her bra and panties and her tits fell out as I shook the bed. 

My hand is hardly enough but I didn’t want to rush this. I played with her chest just a little, her nipples went hard and I had to taste them.

When I was ready to explode, I stayed bent over her and pulled down her panties. I came on her but I didn’t enter her. Not yet, as much as it hurts, it’s not time yet. I left her covered in my cum and pulled her panties back up. I took off her bra and dressed her in the night gown.

Now I’m just winding down and I’ll sleep too soon. I’ll hold her and think about my cum still in her panties. Maybe I’ll do a little more, use her hand a little to release a little more tension. It’s so hard being so close but I have to take it slow. For her.

Saturday

I kissed her good morning and today she didn’t pull away. She didn’t do much until I told her to get up. When she did, she didn’t even try to cover herself as her night gown had ridden up in her sleep. 

And I saw the way she stared at my body, my boxers all I had on. When she realised I caught her, she quickly looked away.

She also didn’t know I noticed how she tugged on her panties and shifted on her legs awkwardly. No doubt she could feel me still but she wouldn’t know why. 

She’s in the shower now and I’m waiting for the coffee to brew. I can hear the patter of water and I wanted badly to join her and help her scrub her body, admire it beneath the trickle as it explores every crevice I long to.

I know I can’t and just thinking of it is making it hard to sit still. I thought playing with her hand last night would keep me happy for a little longer. That it would help my thoughts and my patience but now I want to do everything and more. And I want her to know it this time. To feel it.

No. Not yet. But I can still make her smile. When she comes out I’ll give her her new journal, with pages not about to fall away from the spine and unstained by errant drops of tea. I can’t wait to see her surprise!

[kikis-writing-world]

Bug in the System

Summary: Reader has a complicated relationship with Nathan, living and working with him. They’ve always been nervous to bring up prescription medication, so shit hits the fan when they runs out and their mood plummets.

Pairing: Nathan Bateman x GN!Reader that struggles with mental health.

Word Count: 2k

Rating/Warnings: Mental health - depression and anxiety are expressly mentioned and reader is in a bad low. Talk of medication and ramifications of not taking them. Mention of doctors. Brief mention of sex. Worries of the stigma around mental health. Lots of swearing because it’s Nathan. Unedited/Betaed. it’s almost fluff in Nathan’s asshole way, there’s a happy ending.

A/N: I blame @foxilayde​ that I’m suddenly writing for Nathan... I hated him when I watched the movie and now here we are. Idk, this idea hit me last night while trying to fall asleep and I couldn’t get it out of my head. I had to write it.

You weren’t sure how to define the relationship you and Nathan had. He wasn’t your boyfriend - not only did that feel so juvenile, but also… he just wasn’t. There had never been a declaration of love between the two of you, no commitment to monogamy or even non-monogamy. The two of you lived together, worked together, slept together- it could almost be called a friends with benefits relationship, only… softer. You ate dinners together, danced around the house together, and cuddled together when watching movies. You also spent days, sometimes weeks at a time where you hardly spoke to each other when engrossed in a project. Did this form out of attraction, or emotion, or was it an inevitability when two adults - whose sexualities, attractions and availabilities lined up accordingly - lived together in isolation for an extended period of time? 

In summary: there was no easy way to define what was between the two of you, and you were happy there were no other humans around to ask. You didn’t feel the need to defend what you shared, but you had no desire to try to label it either.

Despite the friendly and casual nature of whatever the relationship was, there were still things that you had yet to admit to Nathan. The dwindling supply of medications tucked safely in a make-up bag inside the drawer of your bedside table felt like a ticking time bomb. You only had so many doses remaining and it wasn’t like you could walk down to the local pharmacy for a refill. Any supplies coming to the fortress of a home had to be called in, ordered, and helicoptered to you. There was no way to do it without Nathan finding out along the way.

You watched the pills slowly empty from their plastic bottles like a reverse hourglass. Despite the effects they had on your malfunctioning brain chemistry, they never quite tampered down the anxiety you had about opening up about your mental illness, let alone to someone like Nathan.

Nathan worked hard and played harder. He strove to be the best him he could be at all times. He accepted nothing less than perfection and no matter what the relationship between you two could be defined as -coworkers, employer/employee, friends, friends with benefits, lovers -  you didn’t want to disappoint him.

You avoided and avoided until inevitably, the last pill came out of the last bottle. It only got worse from there. Without the anxieties in check and the chemicals being balanced, the insecurity flared even worse. Your inner voice told you that you deserved the unhappiness flowing through you, that you should just stay in bed and give up since Nathan would kick you out of the house soon enough: he’d either get tired of your low mood, your falling productivity, or he’d discover your secret and be done with you.

He noticed. Of course he did. You stopped dancing, stopped cuddling, stopped fucking. Then you stopped eating, stopped talking, stopped leaving your room. You felt like you couldn’t get out of bed at all. You spent your time sleeping or curled up under your blankets in the dark room wishing you could sleep more. That or just disappear.

That was where Nathan found you, a month and a half after you’d run out of your meds.

“What the fuck is going on with you?” He barged into your room one morning… afternoon… you had no idea what time it was.

Nathan turned the light on and you could hear him pacing. “Are you sick? Do I need to call in a doctor? Are you even alive under there?! Hello?!”

You sighed, forcing yourself to sit up and prove you were alive, awake, and hearing him. The blankets dropped to your waist, revealing what you were sure was an absolute mess of a human. You knew what you looked like the last time you’d been brave enough to look in the mirror and you were sure it was even worse now.

Nathan cursed and you swear he nearly recoiled at the sight of you. “Are you in here dying on me or something?” He questioned. 

You weren’t sure how to answer, what you could possibly say to him.

“Hello?!” He snapped his fingers in front of your face. “Is anybody in there?!”

You blinked as he crowded you, hysterics growing as you seemingly ignored him. You could tell he was close to grabbing you and shaking you, and you didn’t know if your body could handle that. As it was, your muscles had protested sitting up. Instead, you leaned over and opened your drawer, taking out the zippered make-up bag.

You tossed the pouch at him, hearing all the plastic bottles click together as it landed at his feet. He bent down to pick it up, opening it carefully like he thought some sort of creature might jump out at him. His brows furrowed when he saw the bottles inside and dumped them out onto the mattress.

“Are these all empty? Fuck did you take these?” He questioned, panic rising in his voice. “Are you trying to OD on me or something? Shit.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket, about to call for help.

“No.” You croaked. “Well, yeah. I took them… but… they’re my meds.” You gave in. “I’ve been taking them since I got here. I[was taking until they ran out.”

Nathan looked down at the bottles, picking one up as he read the label. “What are they for?”

“Depression mostly. Anxiety.” You shrugged, listing the simple ones.

Nathan was quiet as he read the bottles. You had no idea if he knew what any of them meant. It’s not like the labels read “Take one daily to stop the crazies!” The names, the dosages, the frequencies meant nothing to someone with no experience… but then again, Nathan wasn’t just anyone.

“How long?” He sighed, turning to sit on the edge of the bed.

You would have deflated if you didn’t already feel as low as you could go. Having assumed the worst, you weren’t surprised he couldn’t look at you.

“I was diagnosed in junior year-”

“No, I mean how long have you been without your meds?” He interrupted you, turning to stare  you down.

“A month.” You shrugged. “Almost two.”

“For fucks sakes.” He grumbled, turning to his phone again and typing away.

“I’ll pack my shit. Just, give me a few days and I’ll go.” You mumbled, laying down on your side and facing away from him. You didn’t want to watch him posting for a new assistant or scheduling the pick-up or whatever he was doing. You’d wallow for a bit, probably take a nap, and then you’d pack anything here that was important. Fuck the rest. You didn’t have the energy. You didn’t care.

“The fuck are you talking about?” He asked distractedly, like he hadn’t heard you as his cogs of his brain jumped to life. He did that a lot when he was preoccupied. He would hear your voice, realize you’re talking, but not absorb the words. Sometimes he needed to ask 3 or 4 times until you gave up and texted him instead.

“I’m bringing in a doctor. You need to get checked out before you start back up on anything. You’re not supposed to go off of these without supervision. Says so right here. Black and white.” He chastised you.

You frowned, looking over your shoulder in confusion. You saw him still typing away on his phone, holding one of the empty, orange-tinted bottles in his hand. He set it down, picking up another. He took a picture, looking over the label quickly for himself before setting it back down.

“What are you doing?”

“Sending him the labels so he knows what he’s walking into. Why the fuck would you just stop taking your meds?” He sniped. “Why didn’t you get more? I fucking ask you if you need shit and you just conveniently forget your pills?”

You picked at a thread of the blanket, not wanting to watch him as he grew angrier with you. As soon as you were in good health and his conscience was clear, he’d be rid of you. You were sure of it. It was more than you’d expected to be honest.

You heard the quiet noise from his phone, indicating the email had been sent. That meant his attention wasn’t divided as he rounded back on you.

“Why won’t you answer me? It’s like fucking talking to a wall or something. If I wanted one-sided conversations, I never would have brought you up here. Why didn’t you get more?!”

You took a shuddering breath before answering. “I didn’t want you to know.”

“Know what? That you take medication?” He scoffed in disbelief.

The room was quiet as you didn’t answer, but you could practically hear his brain processing, whirring like a computer with a squeaky exhaust fan.

“Hey, look at me.” He ordered, his voice dropping in volume to a kinder tone, but it was still not a request. It was a demand. You sat up again, looking at him stare at you with dark, angry eyes.

“When a program isn’t working, do you throw away the whole CPU or do you debug it and fucking find the fix?” He asked. You didn’t answer, assuming it was rhetorical.

“Your software is fucked, and these,” he picked up one of the bottles to hold up between you two. “These are the fix. Why the fuck would you be embarassed about shit like that?”

You shrugged your shoulders, dropping your gaze again. “You’re…” you struggled to find the words, but Nathan jumped on your train of thought frighteningly quick.

“Me?! So it’s my fault? I eat brown rice and salad and work out every day so I’m some health nut hippy who wouldn’t understand, is that it?”

He was putting words into your mouth, but he was essentially getting the point. You were scared he would reject you, mock you, think less of you.

He crawled towards you on the bed, cupping your chin a little too tight as he lifted your face. He was clearly done having you look away from him. “I’m a fucking reclusive genius who lives in the middle of ass fuck nature and only lets people come and go with a goddamn keycard! Do you not think I’m self-aware enough to realize that? A fucking prodigy, multi-millionaire by 15, CEO of the most successful technology company in history. The President calls me and I hit ignore. Do you really think I’m not self-aware enough to know we all have our own brand of fucked up?” He laughed.

“If you need these to get through it, to be my little genius-” He released your jaw to cup your face in both hands, giving it a shake. “To keep up with my shit, to live here without losing your mind at the isolation, to be my dance partner and dinner partner and movie date - then fucking take them. Would I be having to tell you this if it was for your blood pressure or a heart condition or something?!”

His phone buzzed and he released his hold on you, leaning back to read the message that had just come through.

“Doc’s gonna be here tomorrow morning. Gotta keep you hydrated until then and you should try to eat.” He summed up the message as his eyes skimmed the screen. He tucked his phone back into his pocket before slapping your blanket-covered thigh. “What are we eating tonight? Your choice.”

“I’m not hungry.” You mumbled.

“Not an option!” He declined as he stood off the bed. “What are we eating?”

You sighed, letting your head fall back as you thought. “Grilled cheese?”

“And tomato soup? Coming right up.” He leaned over to you, cupping the back of your head as he pulled you close enough to kiss the top of your head. “Rest. I’ll bring it in when it’s ready.”

Tagging: @wickedfrsgrl @din-damn-djarin @dinthisisthe-wayson @seasonschange-butpeopledont @kesskirata​ 

[crown-anon]

@hearts1ck my beloved

November 1st

CW: explicit; more CWs under the cut

format: one-shot

people: GeorgeNotFound

pronouns: he/him; reader has male anatomy; more specifics under the cut

edited 14 March 2021

anonymous asked

consider. okay. CONSIDER. consider masochist george. okay?? okay. okay LISTEN.

I think I have a problem with gimmicks also. because. because. ever since strawberry milk george, I. I have not stopped thinking about strawberry flavored lube. because! listen okay hear me out.

(this is absolutely 110% a response to discovering that you share a birthday with him. what of it?)

I know everyone likes pillow princess george and. that's okay. that's FINE. these are not mutually exclusive.

george looking up at you with The LookTM wearing some pink strawberry milk lingerie. not even lingerie really! just something cute like that

& him being like. "I know you love me 👉👈 but I need you to fuck me like you don't"

so I was. thinking. that brat george is the exact kind of person to say (playfully & consensually) "but I don't wanna give you head, I just wanna fuck >:(" after you've got him worked up, maybe from teasing him throughout the day, or edging him a little. but you still need some type of lube. so you go to apply the first bottle you see and he's pink when he asks you "😳 is that ... strawberry ... ?" and you're confused like ??? bro you just asked me to fuck you into next week why're you interested in the flavored lube

but. but listen. he would get so enthusiastic about it. at first it's just "maybe I can stand to eat them out just a little bit before ..." and then after you come the first time it devolves really, really quickly into the need to just. take care of you. and it stretches on until you've come three or four times, and you're still shaking, and he's just. completely gone in subspace

hmm ... george climbing up onto your lap when he's done with you, going in to give you a kiss, and he tastes like strawberry. and he ends up moaning right into your mouth because he's been so horny but so? understimulated?? that he outright jumps as soon as his dick grazes your thigh. it would only take a couple stuttery grinds before he's finishing on both of your stomachs

and he's just so cute when comes, or when he bites down on your shoulder to keep himself quiet. and it's your birthdays. so, you decide you'll give him a reason to cry. and he'll finally get put in his place! it's a win-win for both of you!!

istg every time I send you an ask I discover something new about myself. you. you have made a dreamteam simp out of me. I am but a shell of the man I once was. I think I should thank you? [👑]

hearts1ck

i say this nearly every time you send stuff in but...... by god you own my soul. all of it. this – i – first of all, the implications of masochist george losing his fucking mind when you’re rough with him? guhhhfjklgjgf. and ,..d,,f,,, ,, ,, george in pink lingerie. i. i . a... pink satin slip maybe or .... ohghfd; oh my god those. that cat panty/bra set. im ascending im losing my brain as i type this i cannot –

okay im back on earth. he’d get into that rhythm and settle like liquid while he gets to work on you, and his subspace face is so self-satisfied and nearly smug so he’s just having the time of his life,,, and he makes such a loud noise when his dick twitches against your thigh and maybe... JUST MAYBE he whimpers extra watery when you drag his hips to grind against where you’re wet and dripping/your spent cock as if he’s the one who’d get overstimulated by it. when he finally leans away, eyelids heavy, you gently fit your hand over his jaw and ask, “did you even ask? it’s one thing to come without permission, but not even caring to ask? georgie, i might just be offended,” and he whines “green”s against your neck before you even check-in

and because u made it abt both of our birthdays ,,,, spanks for each year we’ve been alive methinks ??? and then the scratch down his ass gets him hard again and he’s so embarrassed by it, ,,, , ,, ,, ,, ,, ,

also thank god you’ve joined the george boat. i’m so proud of myself for hopefully being part of the reason you got dragged over here HJFKDHSKD

#👑 anon #(my beloved) #keep #anon thoughts: george #redsick #SHAWTY WANT THE WHOLE CREW SHAWTY BAD

as soon as you said birthday spanks I decided I had to write more about this. and I was going to leave more snippets in your askbox like the fucking gremlin creature I am, but then my thoughts started. actually having structure? and then I started writing it. and I tried to do homework and write on study breaks only but. I just kept coming back to this. this is the polar opposite of writer's block. I think I'm cursed or something. so here I am rushing to finish this so that I may rest in peace!!

yes I've been writing nonstop since I sent you that ask. what of it. what the fuck of it.

when I said I discover something new about myself every time we interact, I. I'm serious. I think I might be insane or something. I'm way too sadistic. you'll see. what the fuck is this? what the fuck did I just write??

this would have done so much critical psychic damage if I had posted it on November 1st in real life, but mental illness says I can't let my horny thoughts rattle around in my brain for that long. so!! it's you guys's problem now xoxoxo

I'm not fucking proofreading this. love you though 💗

I did end up proofreading actually. oops! looks like posting at 23:00 isn't always a good idea.

November 1st

CW: explicit, anal (kind of vague), bondage (collar + leash), corruption, domspace (I think??), edging, handjob, humiliation, masochism, oral, praise, sadism, spanking, subspace, swearing. I call George a whore and a slut at least once. and also, George calls yellow at one point. this one kind of surprised me so just. Be Careful. I cannot believe I wrote this. I don't know where this came from.

format: one-shot

people: GeorgeNotFound

pronouns: he/him; I use the word "sir;" reader has male anatomy; I use the words "cock," "dick," and "head;" reader can ejaculate

—

dawn shines through drawn curtains, illuminating the tile floor and your robed figure reflecting off it. batter sizzles in the skillet as you flip the last pancake over. this side looks golden brown, like honeycomb or caramelized sugar. that delicious, freshly-baked fragrance mingles with scented candles. it's perfect, you smile. he's going to love it.

you lift the pancake with a spatula, stacking it on top of the others on his plate. you bring it to his seat at the table, along with the butter, the syrup, the honey, the jam…and you go to pour him a drink.

"hey baby," you greet warmly to the sleepyhead rubbing his eyes in the entryway, still clinging to a pillow. his hair's a mess, only wearing socks and a sweatshirt that reaches down past his thighs. you reckon he'd only just crawled out of bed.

"morning…" he yawns, stumbling past you to take his seat.

"milk?" you ask, he only nods. "did you sleep okay?"

he hums affirmatively. "I…can we…"

one track mind, you joke inwardly. but you don't blame him. "of course," you open the fridge.

you hear him pause. "…is it too early for that?"

"no, no!" you give him a lighthearted laugh. "I kind of expected it, to be honest…I want it, too."

he's silent under the noise of you rummaging through the fridge. "I—"

"sorry—it looks like all we have is strawberry milk. is that alright?"

"yeah…yeah, that's alright. I…actually…wanted to try something new." you shut the fridge, he's fidgeting in his seat.

"hit me with it," your expression is gentle. you pass his cup off to him, but he holds his hand over yours a little too long, looking up at you.

"fuck me like you hate me."

you don't know if it's hearing him swear, or the way he said it so calmly, or how he closed his eyes and swallowed hard before his tone could dip down into something lower. but like a match in an torrent of gasoline, suddenly you're burning up.

you only realize you're staring when he bites his lip and looks down. you start to say something, but the words don't form.

he laughs nonthreateningly, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. "is that a yes?"

you laugh with him. "I…yes, absolutely yes." you turn back around to make your own stack of pancakes. "you should eat first, though."

"what?" he teases. "will I need the energy?"

you smile. "yeah. I think you will." you can practically feel him open his mouth in protest, but he stays silent after that.

and it stays mostly silent while you cook your pancakes. you hear the clinking of his fork on his plate, but it isn't very disruptive. it sounds like he's hurrying to finish his food.

when you go back to the table with your own platter, he's already done eating. he's red down to his neck, fidgeting with the hem of his sweatshirt, looking at you expectantly. you spot a pair of tassels peeking out from under it, just below his hip bones. is that…

he pulls the hem up just a bit, holding your gaze. he smiles, apparently satisfied watching your face heat up.

"I—you should go…go get ready," you manage. he gets up before you even finish your sentence, only stopping to give you a quick kiss on the cheek.

except it isn't quick, when he slides his hand down to rest firmly on your collar, and leans in to trail kisses down your neck. "a-and leave that on," you stutter.

he pauses, just under your jaw. "leave what on?" he murmurs.

your breath catches, you shut your eyes. "whatever the fuck it is you're wearing under there."

he's hardly grazing your skin, but you can feel how hot he is next to you. it takes all of your willpower not to shiver.

he pulls back quickly, only his hand lingering. "I don't know what you're talking about." and just like that, he disappears into your bedroom.

you reach up a hand tentatively to your collar, hot to the touch. I'm in way too deep, you decide, and force yourself to take a bite of your food despite your nerves.

—

"that," you hiss. "that fucking outfit. that."

"oh, this?" he bites his lip, hooking his thumb in the keyhole. "this's just what I went to bed in last night."

"fuck you. we both know that isn't true."

he tugs gently on his top, pulling it a little to the side. "what's the big deal? can't I wear something special for my birthday?"

"it's special, all right," and you leave it at that, opting instead to slot between his legs where he sits waiting on the edge of the bed. you bring up a hand to cup his jaw, brushing your thumb across his cheek. you'll never get enough of the way he looks at you, like you're intoxicating.

…? you frown.

"is something…missing?" he perks up instantly at "missing."

"what…?" he chooses his words carefully.

"the collar—your collar. where is it?" you turn away to start going through your bedside table, but the way his lips quirk up into a sly smile isn't lost on you.

that's lube…that's a vibrator…where the fuck is it…? "w-what collar?" he stumbles over his words.

your mind jumps to say, the collar that came with that outfit, or I know you know what I'm talking about, but you won't give him the satisfaction. you decide to speak a little darker, only a firm "George." you hear him swallow.

"w-well," his voice is shaky, "you only told me to leave on whatever I was wearing under my shirt. and…I wasn't wearing that collar at breakfast…s-so technically…"

you stop looking immediately. you turn to take him in, legs crossed, stance confident, but expression showing uncertainty. you can see the regret on his face. "get up." he takes a shallow breath. "get up."

"I'm—"

"don't I'm sorry me," you snap. "you look for your fucking collar on your own."

he slips off the bed, looking ashamed, but starts digging through the drawer all the same. "I really am sorry," he murmurs. you take his place sitting on the bed. he finds what he's looking for rather quickly: a simple white leather collar with a bell, and a leash. he hands them off to you shyly. "um, here…"

"good boy," you praise. "kneel."

he shuts his eyes and does as he's told. you can see the bliss wash over his face just at being ordered around. his lips part a little as he lets out a heavy breath. if only I knew what this would do to him, you muse, I'd have done this ages ago.

you fasten the collar, revelling in how he shivers at the gentle sensation of cold leather hanging around his neck. you leave it a little bit loose, but still comfortable, and hook the leash in its place. he sits obediently still on his knees, looking deep in thought.

"Oh, I know what I'm gonna do to you," you bait. "how old are you today?"

"mmm. twenty-five." he looks down.

you smile, holding tight onto the leash. "I'm gonna edge you. twenty-five times."

he flinches away immediately, yet hums in pleasant surprise when the leash snaps taught. the bell jingles stiffly. "no way. that's way too much."

"I think you should've thought about that before you wore that to breakfast," you decide, tugging a little. he's caught off-guard and stumbles forward, stopping himself by leaving a clumsy pair of kisses on the inside of your thigh. the metal and leather feel refreshingly cool against your feverish skin. "we've got all day, baby."

you expect to hear some kind of protest, you're crazy. or a playful taunt, I'm better off doing this by myself. but he knits his brows and openly moans at the thought. "all day…" he repeats.

he looks up at you, almost pleading, and you can hear the resignation in his voice when he whispers "alright."

"get up here," you command. "on top of me." as he climbs up into your lap, a little too eagerly, you add, "and take your dick out."

you shrug your robe off your shoulders while he's working on his panties, and without thinking, you ask, "color?"

he stops, leaving his head poking cutely over the waistband. he looks up at you again. "…what?"

"um…color," you explain. "like, how are you doing? is this okay? I don't actually want to hurt you. uhhh…green means good, yellow means slow down, and red means stop."

he stifles a laugh. "you're such a nerd. I'm okay."

"alright." you blush a little. "we can stop whenever you need to. this is for you…" you think of something horribly unsexy to say. "…birthday boy."

now he's really laughing, with his whole body. you think the way it makes his collar jingle is cute. "oh my god. shut up. just shut up," his expression turns serious, and he drops to a whisper, "and fuck me."

that got you hot again. you pull him by the leash into a kiss, you bite his lip, you eat him up. and you grab the both of you together with your other hand, you moan in tandem. you can feel how you took him by surprise in the way he twitches under your thumb, the way he leans into you with his whole body. you part from the kiss and he leans back on his heels, panting hard, holding on to your shoulders for support. you can feel him shaking a little.

when you move your hand all the way up the first time, you squeeze both of your heads gently, and he practically falls into you. muffled in the crook of your neck, he begs, "god, do that again."

so you do. again. and again. what was a string of stuttered breaths turns into a single broken moan as you jerk the both of you off. when you think you're getting close, you let go of yourself to focus all your attention on him.

"fuck, sir," he whines—hahaha, that sir made your cock leak a little. he shut his eyes tight. "I-I-I think—I think I'm—"

just like that, you stop, and he goes slack, practically laying on you. but he doesn't grind back, or even move to touch himself. that won't last very long.

you let him come back down, knowing edging takes a lot out of you; maybe even more so than actually coming does. slowly but surely, his breathing steadies. you rub between his shoulderblades affectionately, still trying to ground yourself, too.

once you've found your voice again, you question, "are you gonna count for me?"

he makes a sound against your skin, somewhere between excitement and fear. "…o-one." you revel in how fucked-out he sounds already.

"one what?" you prod.

he seems at a loss, like he's forgotten himself, what he said. after a minute or two of pondering, he catches on. "…sir."

it's your turn to moan. your dick jumps at the honorific, still mostly untouched against your stomach. "good boy." and you dive back in. twenty-four to go.

—

it's noon. you're working on nineteen. and your partner's getting much more…expressive. he's started biting his hand to keep himself quiet, but he's still…

"I-I—oh fuck, I'm—fuck, I-I'm—I'm—" he whimpers through his teeth. and he yelps, whole body shaking, bell jingling incessantly, when he comes all over your hand and stomach.

you take your hand off him immediately, and this time he does try to reach down, ride through it, but you grab both his wrists to stop him. he grinds down uselessly against your thigh and your dick. although you're still hard, and only a hairline trigger away from coming yourself, it doesn't stop you from keeping this brat in line. you only bite your lip and close your eyes.

he leans his forehead against yours, moving in to give you a kiss, but you push him away.

"did you never learn how to fucking count?" you growl.

he winces. "I-I-I-I'm…I'm sorry—"

you scowl at your hand, covered in come. "here, slut," you raise it up to his lips. "clean this off for me."

he tears up a little, but takes your fingers into his mouth all the same. pretty quickly, though, he spits them back out.

"it doesn't taste good…" he complains.

"oh? oh, it doesn't?" you mock. "but it felt good, when you came without my permission, like a cheap fucking whore."

a couple of tears spill over, roll down his cheeks, yet he says nothing, only moving back in to lap his come off your hand. you can see it in his expression that he's not very happy about it, but he doesn't protest further.

"is this good enough, sir?" he asks, when it seems that he's gotten it all. it looks clean enough, you agree. you grab him by the chin, hooking your thumb in his mouth. you don't even have to tell him to suck.

"you come without my approval again, and it's over. you can go back to playing minecraft—or what-the-fuck-ever—with your friends for your birthday. do you want to sleep on the couch, Georgie?"

if he wasn't crying before, he's definitely crying now. he doesn't shake his head, but he circles your fingertip with his tongue enthusiastically, as if to say, I'll be good, I'll be good this time, looking up at you doe-eyed.

"bend over for me," you demand. "across my lap."

he does so immediately. he slips a little bit while he's changing positions, you hear the bell ring, and he scrambles to correct himself. he settles with his ankles crossed and his head in his hands, propping himself up on his elbows. you feel a little bad, you admit, but you won't budge; he has a safeword, you trust that he'll use it.

"let's try that again," your tone softens. "I want you to count for me, okay?"

he nods.

you pull his panties to the side, pause briefly, and bring down your hand with a satisfying smack.

"ohhhhhh—" he moans, jolting a little. "—holy shit, did you just spank me?"

your stomach drops, you go to rub him gently where you just hit him. "is that okay—?"

"it's hot, it's so hot, fuck," he shifts in your lap. "um, sorry…one."

seriously, something about hearing him swear awakens something in you, every time. you're fired up. you spank him again.

"mmm—two…" is he…? "three…"

you pause to massage his ass again, and to speak. "you're…you're hard again, aren't you?"

you didn't even spank him yet, but he lets out a moan. "fuck, I—I just. I want you. I want this. so, so much."

you wonder if this is actually the same George who was fidgeting with his pillow in the dining room this morning.

"you're so bad, getting turned on by something like this," you tease. he only moans in response.

"four—five—six—seven…" he chokes out. "it's starting to sting…"

you take a break, kneading the skin where your angry red handprint is starting to take shape.

"eight…nine…but god, it hurts so good…" he wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. "ten…"

at ten, you linger for a moment, holding a handful of his ass. "does it?"

"yes—yesyesyes," he buries his face in the pillow, and shivers. "fuck, eleven…twelve…"

you pull his panties down to his knees, and switch sides. he lifts his hips up, so I can reach him better, you guess. you don't miss the telltale glint of a butt plug, but you'll get to that later.

"thirteen—fourteen—fifteen—sixteen," he moans between slaps. he's gripping the pillowcase so hard his knuckles are white.

in this new position, the way he jumps with every hit makes his cock brush against yours just right. fuck, you're still hard from earlier. this time you're the one who whimpers.

"seventeen, eighteen," he pauses, breathless. you pull gently on his leash, he arches his back and moans, "n-nineteen." his bell jingles.

he grinds down, just for a moment, and the friction is delicious. you're a little dizzy, you think you might've thrust back. you both sigh at the feeling.

"…t-twenty…see? I-I can count…I'm a good boy…I'm good for you…aren't I?"

"you are," you murmur, but you aren't sure he hears you. "you're so good…"

"twenty-one—twenty-two…I-I feel like I haven't done anything right today…twenty-three…"

"…George…?" you hear a muffled sob.

"twenty-four…" he mumbles.

"George?" you start to get concerned. he just keeps crying. "hey…" you whisper. you gently prompt him to turn him over; the pillow's a little wet. you pull the panties off all the way, and get him out of the bra, which had a little stray come on it. you help him sit up in your lap, and pull him into a hug.

"am I really just a whore…?" he asks brokenly.

"you've been so good for me, baby. you've done everything I've asked." you wipe his tears away with your thumb. "are you okay?"

"but I—" he coughs. "—I came too soon, I came without your permission…"

you kiss his hair, and hold him to your chest. "you've been so patient. I'm proud of you."

he finally wraps his arms around you. "I-I'm sorry."

"nonsense," you reassure. "your comfort takes priority. are you okay? color?"

"I…" he searches for the words. "I dunno. yellow? I…that hurt, I think. being…degraded?"

you comb through his hair with your fingers. "I understand. thank you for telling me. I love you."

—

you stay like that for a minute. you grab him a snack and a drink, but for the most part, you just enjoy each other's company, tangled-up together. you don't bother putting your clothes back on.

it's later in the evening. you're straddling him, peppering his shoulders with kisses, and he's giggling underneath you. he turns over to give you a short and sweet kiss.

"baby?" he says, looking expectantly.

"what is it?" you sit back on your heels.

he hesitates. "…I wanna keep going. from earlier."

you're serious again. "are you sure you're okay?" you grab his hand, bringing it up to kiss his fingertips. "I don't want to hurt you."

"I'm alright," he assures. "I remember you promising me an all-day thing, though."

you blush, a little surprised by his forwardness. "of course. I think…I…" you laugh. "I wanna fuck you."

"yeah?" he smiles, leaning up close. "show me how much."

you hold his jaw while you kiss him, biting his bottom lip between your teeth. he tastes like the coffee and cream you made him earlier. you feel his breath hitch. he reaches up to hold your shoulders.

you pull back. "hey, blow me first."

"what? why?" he giggled.

"it's been a couple hours, I'm not hard anymore," you coax. "I thought you liked taking orders?"

he cringed. "but come tastes gross!"

you slid off him and hopped off the bed, opening the drawer. "suit yourself. you get to watch me jack off, then."

"fine by me, I think you look good when you masturbate."

"ohhh, I forget, you're too blissed-out to pay attention to how I look when you're getting fucking owned."

"I am not!"

"you are too!" he sticks his tongue out at you.

you open the lid, pouring a little on your hand, a little on your cock. it's translucent pink, seems a little fragrant. you give yourself a couple of strokes with a sigh.

he's quiet for a second, then, shyly, "um…is that…strawberry flavored…?"

you bite your lip. "I thought you weren't gonna give me head?"

"I was just curious." it's a weak lie, but you say nothing.

your eyes are shut, but you can feel him moving around a bit on the bed, you hear his bell ring a couple times. you feel a hand on your thigh, so you decide to peek. and holy shit.

your partner's made his way to the floor, on his knees between your legs, holding his leash in his mouth, his fucking mouth, what the fuck. his thumb's rubbing circles on the inside of your thigh. the half-lidded look he's giving you should be criminal.

"you—I thought you said you wouldn't…" you can't find the words. you reach out and take the leash from his mouth. you see your hand shake in front of you.

"I'm just watching…" he whispers, looking up at you, mesmerized.

you're only able to get a couple of pumps in before he's joining you, hand over yours as you get yourself off. just the extra sensation of somebody else's touch is enough to make you bite back a moan.

"fuck—!" you jolt when he licks a stripe up the underside. he mouths over the head, jerking you off on his own now. you move to grip the sheets in one hand, his leash in the other. and you come without warning. you see it end up on his hand and your stomach before you shut your eyes tight.

he's quiet while you're coming down, just helping you ride it out, giving you kisses on your thighs. when you look back down at him, he's got two of his fingertips in his mouth, licking them clean. he stands up abruptly, it startles you a little. you see his bell ring. and he grabs you by the hips and leans down to your midriff.

"…I don't think I cleaned you off all the way earlier…" he breathes, and he starts to lap up the mess of his and your come that's been on you since this afternoon.

what the fuck. why is this so hot? why is he so hot? all too soon, your spent cock twitches in interest at your lover. he cups it with a hand, smiling against your tummy. you're so sensitive it hurts. you think you mean to say something, but nothing comes out.

"hmm…?" he bites his lip. "you still want some more?" all you can do is whine. at this point, you don't know if it's in protest or invitation.

you don't get the chance to find out either, because fuck, he's really going down on you now. you don't know what the fuck he's doing with his tongue, or where his gag reflex went, but at this rate you're gonna come again.

"George—George, baby, I—slow down, I-I'm—" you plead. his leash slips out of your hand, you tip your head back.

he swallows.

—

the last thing you remember is coming harder than you ever have in your life. you think you held him by his hair. you might've fucked his mouth a little. he's never let you come in his mouth before…fuck…

it's nighttime now. he's riding your thigh, got one of his legs slotted between yours. the friction between his knee and your overstimulated cock feels embarrassingly good. you're so dizzy, all you can articulate is a loud moan. you don't sound at all like you remember. his bell keeps ringing and ringing and ringing as he grinds against you.

he leans down, one arm holding your hip, the other keeping himself propped up. he bites your shoulder, hard, hard enough to bruise. he comes on both of your stomachs.

"George," you beg. you're losing your voice.

"mmmmmmsir," he slurs. "fuck me."

"George, I…" you don't know what you're saying. the end of your sentence turns into a whimper.

"you need me to get you hard again? you need me to rile you up?" he turns to kiss your jaw, feeling around for your dick. "like this?"

"George," you sound urgent, until he squeezes right around the head, and you forget what you were saying. you're pretty fucking close to forgetting who you are entirely.

he sits up on top of you, grinning. "love the way you say my name, sir."

that name. all it takes is the way he says that fucking name and you're ready to go again. you flip the two of you over, so that you're towering over him instead. "you still didn't. fucking. ask me. if you could come."

he giggles, a little crazed. he hooks his arms around his knees, hugging them to his chest.. "so what? so what? you gonna fuck me 'till I behave?"

"yes," you reach down, "I think I will." and you pull out the butt plug he (probably forgot he) had in all day.

"fuck—" he sobs. you watch his dick bob. precome drips into a pool on his stomach. "—green—green—so fucking green."

you're still sensitive from coming twice—you're pretty sure he is too. you lean down to give him a kiss, you moan into each other's mouths. he tastes like strawberries and his and your come. it is a little gross, you admit. but he's so tight and so fucking cute that you can't bring yourself to care. you part, and there's a line of salvia connecting the two of you.

"wait—" you say, but it comes out like a growl. "roll over."

he gets on his hands and knees, reaching back and spreading himself open for you. fuck.

you fuck him like that, holding the leash tight, loving the way he arches his back into the bed. the bell on his collar jingles incessantly.

you spank him, one last time.

"th-that's twenty-f-five—oh, fuck, sir," he growls, clinging on to the blankets for dear life.

you pin one of his hands in place and reach down to touch him. he starts laughing again.

"mmmmmmay I please come, sir? I—fuck—I'm so close, soclosesoclose," his breath stutters, you can hear the breaks in his voice. he buries his face in the blankets.

I'm close, you think, but the words don't make it out. "you're so good—you're so fucking good—come for me—fuck, come for me."

—

you're a mess. there's some drying solution of come and lube on your stomach. not to mention whatever the fuck's going on with your hair. your robe is discarded haphazardly on the floor. you think you've got a hickey, but you can't remember where.

actually, you're both a mess. he's also covered in come, sweat, and lube. he's got a red ring around his neck where you pulled him by the leash a little too hard. he's just covered in bruises. he clings to your arm, still fast asleep. you both passed out pretty quickly after…whatever that was, but you got back up a couple hours later. it doesn't look like he did, though.

actually, your whole bedroom is a mess. a blanket or two ended up discarded on the floor. there's an empty bottle of edible lube somewhere around here. your kitty lingerie set, still dirty, somehow ended up hanging in the closet. the first time you woke up you were both cuddling with a butt plug that you misplaced in the heat of the moment.

you don't think you've ever seen him like that. you can't even put it into words. you've never spanked him. he's never called you sir. you've never come in his mouth. he's never…begged for you like that before. you've never been so exhausted after coming that you both just, just fainted.

you feel lightheaded, and dead tired. you know you both must have gotten back up and gone at it at least a couple more times, but it's blurry, you can't remember. all you know is your vibrator's missing, and you feel…unusually empty, like you do the morning-after getting railed a little too hard.

last night…what the fuck happened last night?

you contemplate getting up, slipping your arm out of his embrace, pulling the covers back up around him, leaving to make breakfast. you're kind of disgusting, several hours after sex without cleaning up properly. you want to get yourselves some washcloths, maybe take shower together, or run him a bath. you know he's gotta be way more sore than you are.

you catch yourself staring, lost in thought; he just looks too cute when he's very clearly roughed up, but still sleeping soundly. and with the way he wanted…the way he needed you yesterday, you don't think he would want to wake up alone.

maybe it's okay if we sleep in a little longer.

you stroke his hair and whisper, "happy birthday, baby boy."

—

edited 14 March 2021

[cuttingthe-painter]

I just really need my fae bae to comfort me saying he won't leave me for any other creature because he loves me even though I'm a plain boring human... ;-;

I have been in quite the slump recently, my friend, and this prompt (that I know you sent forever ago) finally helped me break out of the creative hole I had found myself in!! I really hope you enjoy the fae bae I have created for you!

***feel free to reblog***

Nyn - Fae Boyfriend (sfw)

male fae x human reader

word count: 1718

warnings: insecurity, slight jealousy, sadness, slight mention of past stalking/attempted assault (very brief, 2 paragraphs), PLEASE let me know if I missed any warnings/incorrectly labeled them.

Silence blankets the apartment with the setting of the sun, the only interruptions the soft turning of pages and your persistent nagging thoughts. The television flashes bright colors in the dimly lit room and a dull ache begins to form behind your unfocused eyes. You blink away the dryness, hoping to bring your mind to the present and away from the memory of Nyn and the woman in the park.

It shouldn’t bother you so much; you should be happy that Nyn finally met another fae like him, another fae made from the silky shadows of night, but it’s been three days and you can’t shake the way the stars in his eyes danced when he met her stare. You’ve looked into his eyes countless times, memorized the universes living in them, and they’ve never come to life like that.

They looked like they had been made for each other, Nyn and the woman in the park. The crawling smoke under their ashen skin turning into raging black flames that radiated off them, rising into the night air and burning together. You’ve only seen Nyn’s shadows engulf him one other time, on the night when you’d first met.

Work ran later than usual that night and you found yourself walking home down seemingly empty streets. A few blocks into your commute, a set of footsteps echoed on the sidewalk behind you, matching your pace for a few moments before quickening. Panic seeped into your body, a restless anxiety taking hold of your limbs and sending you running down the nearest alley. The man behind you mirrored your sprint, his hand reaching out to grab your jacket. He yanked it and you twisted to free yourself, only to find your balance thrown off.

You expected to feel the sharp crack of concrete against your head, but it never came. Inky shadows snaked around you, softening your fall, and exploded into the alley between the man and you. You stared into the impervious smoke, wondering if you had hit your head and if this is what death was like, a dark and empty nothingness. But then it receded into a solemn silhouette and you could see the streetlights again.

Your mind is a broken drum, comparing the scenes over and over and over until you feel like you’re about to break. Something silky wraps around your ankle, skates up your outer calf with a feather-light touch, and pulls you from your mental prison.

“Where were you?” Nyn has his hands resting atop his now closed book, brows furrowed and dark eyes locked on you. You try to choke down your insecurity and force out a small laugh.

 “I was right here watching the show. What are you talking about?” He purses his lips and you know that he knows you’re avoiding the question. His shadow around your leg retreats back to him and he rises from his chair. Fear twists in your gut, fear that maybe he’s angry or that he’ll leave, but instead he grabs the blanket from the back of the couch, lets it fall open behind him, and crawls up the couch, squeezing himself behind you and wrapping you both up.

“I’m here if you want to talk,” he says, pressing soft kisses into your hair. You both lay there, the soft murmurs of a mindless sitcom lulling you to sleep in the comfort of Nyn’s embrace.

Even in sleep you can’t escape her. She’s standing beside him where you should be, ethereal and fae and made for him. You lay crumpled at their feet, feeble and weak and human. When he grabs her hand and pulls her to him, your body jolts awake and Nyn’s arm tightens around you.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” he asks, his sleepy voice riddled with panic. Your body curls into itself, tears stain your face and Nyn brushes away your hair sticking to the wet tracks. He cradles you to him, whispering soft I love you’s and It’s going to be okay’s in your ear. You try to believe him, try to believe that it’ll be okay because he loves you, but then you see her and the way his eyes danced when he looked at her and you wonder if it really will be okay.

“Please tell me what I can do to help.” He sounds desperate and scared and you want to be okay just to make him sound normal again but you don’t know how. He lifts himself off the couch, letting you roll onto your back, and hovers over you. His eyes soften when he sees your pained face and shadows snake out from him, coiling through the air towards you, reaching out until they’re soothing away your tears.

It’s getting easier to breathe, each inhale feels less and less like swallowing glass. You raise your hand to stop the shadows, to wipe away your own tears, but they stop you. The dark wisps entangle your fingers and squeeze three times in a silent I love you and you know you have to tell him.

“Every time I close my eyes, I see you and that woman standing there,” you whisper, hoping Nyn can hear you over the breaking of your heart. “And then I open them, hoping she’ll be gone, but she’s still there and I can’t stop myself from wondering why you’re still here with me.” 

“I-“ Nyn starts slowly, mulling over his words carefully. “I’m afraid I don’t understand… Why wouldn’t I be here with you? This is our home.” Tears fill your eyes again and you roll your head to the side, avoiding his gaze.

“Because when you looked at her, your shadows came to life and the stars in your eyes danced and that’s never happened when you’ve looked at me. She’s like you and I’m…I’m just..me.” A gentle hand caresses your cheek, slowly turning you back to face Nyn. A look of understanding settles across his face and he leans down, pressing a lingering kiss against your forehead.

“Those things, they don’t happen because when I look at you, I feel safe,” he whispers against your skin. His warm breath fans down across your face, and your eyes blink away the dryness. Safe. He feels safe. You let the words sink in, hoping that safe isn’t just a proxy for bored.

“I thought maybe it’s because I’m, y’know, human,” you whisper back, willing away the tremor in your voice. Nyn pulls away, staring down at you with a look so soft and so foreign, and you swallow helplessly at the lump straining your throat.

“You say human like it’s an insult.” Seriousness laces his words and you wish you could rewind time and stop yourself from ever mentioning it.

"Isn’t it, though? I mean, compared to you and her?”

“Absolutely not. You being human keeps me sane, makes me want to do better and be better. That’s why when I look at you my stars are still and my shadows contained. Our shadows, they can be dangerous, can turn us dangerous. If we live in them for too long, we become them and lose our sense of humanity.”

Nyn positions himself back around you on the couch as he speaks, wrapping one arm around your waist and tucking the other under your head. His words sooth the lump in your throat, coaxing it to relent enough to let you breathe normally.

“That’s what happened to her,” he continues, soothing circles into your hip with his thumb. “And when she saw us together, she thought that’s what had happened to me. She was dangerous; the things shadow fae will do when consumed by their shadows are… not pleasant. When I heard what she wanted to do, what she thought I wanted to, I did what I had to do to protect you.”

To protect you. Your heart feels like it's going to beat right out of your chest. It clicks then why the only other time you’ve seen him erupt like that was back in the alley, when you were being followed. But how did he know she had ill-intentions? You try to remember when the woman was talking, if she had said anything other than ‘hey there’ and ‘nice to meet you’.

“How did you know she was dangerous? I never heard her say anything weird,” you say, still trying to recall the night more clearly.

“Her eyes,” he says. He’s back there at the park, you can see it in the way his eyes go glassy and his shadows swell out from him. He blinks away the memory and keeps going. “We talk through the lights in them, that’s why they ‘dance'." You don’t really understand it, but you can at least understand enough to get it. You let out a quiet ‘oh’ and wait for him to continue but he doesn’t.

The room quiets again and you focus on Nyn’s slowing breaths, attempting to match yours to his, hoping to leech some of his calm. He nuzzles his face into your hair and hums in content and you feel the pent-up anxiety in your body dissipate. Tears flood your eyes at the sudden rush of love coursing through you and you can’t help the sudden urge to turn and crowd into Nyn’s space, smothering him with kiss after kiss.

He laughs into the kisses, threading his hands into your hair, holding you still and deepening the kisses. You feel his shadows dancing around you, tickling across your skin, and you feel ridiculous for ever doubting how much he loves you. You pull away for a breath and he chases the movement, gently nipping at your lip with his pointed teeth.

“Nyn,” you half-mumble half-moan. He makes a muffled sound in response but pulls back to listen. You smile up to him and say “thanks for protecting me” and he smiles back at you like you’re his entire world, then kisses you again, slow and purposefully and with no intention to stop.

Later, after the kisses have finished and you’re pressed against Nyn under the sheets of your bed, on the verge of sleep, you hear Nyn whisper “thank you for letting me love you” and then you’re gone, dreaming of dances with the shadows in the stars.

[subbing-for-clones]

Stranded Part 2

Savage Opress x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

WARNINGS: Mentions of death and decomposition, mental illness, fear terror and FLUFF

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       Savage's eyes fluttered open to the sun shining brightly through the trans-durasteel panes that decorated the walls seemingly without rhyme or reason. The little one was frying some kind of thin meat strips on the stove and sipping hot caf. Without turning her head, she called over to him.

"How ya feeling?"

"Not great but better."

She turned and strode over to him, still laying down.

"I couldn't do this yesterday but I can today."

"What do you mean..?"

    She placed her hands on his bare broad chest and closed her eyes. A warm tingling sensation wafted over him. It felt like sunshine, utter joy and flying all at once. When she pulled away her eyes were a little fuzzy.

"It takes a lot of energy but you can transfer your life force to something and heal it. I was kinda low yesterday," she turned matter-of-factly back to the stove.

    Savage had only ever had painful experiences when it came to using the force or having it used on him. He hadn't ever thought of it as anything other than a weapon. He wanted to ask about it but shy away from the topic. Instead, he stood and stretched. He didn't have an ounce of pain. This woman who found him once again amazed him.

While the two unlikely pair ate their breakfast, her eyes didn't leave him, slightly squinting.

"You haven't been like this very long?"

"No. I was altered by the witches of my home world."

"Huh. Did you ask for this?" truly curious she stopped eating.

"No." she cocked a brow at his response, waiting for an elaboration.

"My species is subservient to our women. We live separately and go through deadly trials to be chosen by one for breeding or whatever they want really." He continued eating as the information he provided was simply normal for him.

"Was this..." she waved her hand at his body. "For breeding?" his cheeks slightly tinged in a deeper gold.

"No. I was chosen to act as a weapon for one of the sisters. She abandoned me when I didn't live up to the expectation." the woman noted as his eyes darkened. Wanting to change his mood she lightened up.

"Well, I'm happy you're here Savage. You have much to learn in the ways of the force.. you're strong but your energy is incredibly dark but you... you do not feel that way....." she trailed off in thought and muttered, "certainly an enigma. Very interesting," she tapped her finger against her chin.

    Savage's heart fluttered. He had never received any kind of praise from a female before and he didn't really know how to process it. His flush only deepened when she once again undressed in his line of sight, slipping on a shorter, loose grey dress.

"When you've finished, dress and meet me outside,” she skipped out the door and shouted something unintelligible into the trees.

    Savage silently hoped she wasn't completely insane while he quickly washed the dishes for her. He pulled on his pants and his long black kilt. Remembering that she had cut off his shirt for a sling he huffed and left the tattered remnant. When he came out, he saw what could've been a scene in a holovid. She stood with under a ray of sunlight, skin shimmering in the glow with a bright smile gracing her face. Her hands were pressed to the forehead of a green Varactyl while a dozen small song birds of every color fluttered around her.

"I think I should call you 'princess,'" he stepped forward cautiously.

She giggled melodiously.

"Mira here won't hurt you I promise. You think I look like a princess?" she flushed and batted her eyelashes.

"More than anyone else I've ever seen."

She extended her hand out to Savage.

"Come here," she cooed. He slowly made his way to her and took her hand. It was soft and warm, she held it for just a moment, running her thumb over his knuckles.

"Do not be afraid. Mira is a friend," she placed his hand where hers was just a minute ago on the Varactyl's head.

"Close your eyes and reach out to her with the force. Gently."

    He stood there for a minute before he felt anything. All of a sudden it felt like wind was rushing around him. He could see trees flying past him and a breeze danced against his skin. He leapt from trees, gliding through the air.

    She watched with satisfaction as his and Mira's eyes were closed and their breathing synced slowly. She felt their signatures meld for a moment. Savage pulled his hand away and looked at her wide eyed but grinning. Mira chirped happily beside him.

"Good, you made the connection. Rather quickly I might add. Mira is a receptive one. Very friendly. She's been with me a couple years now."

"I...I felt what she feels when she hunts," he was smiling at the creature fondly.

"Yes, that seems to be a favorite time for her."

"That felt much different than any other time I've used the force.... was that the light side?"

"I'm sure the Jedi would say yes but I am no Jedi. I don't see the force as light or dark."

Savage looked confused. Everyone called the force light or dark. The woman continued,

"Take a knife for example. In the wrong hands... a knife can take an innocent life, used to rob someone or threaten them other ways. However, in the 'right' hands it can be used as a medical instrument, carve wood or simply chop produce. I think of the force in the same way. The intent is what matters to me. Did you want to hurt Mira when you reached out to her?"

"No..no I didn’t," he stammered.

"That’s why it felt different."

    Savage understood what you were saying and turned back to Mira. The animal nudged him gently with her head affectionately.

"Let's go for a ride. I wanna finish stripping the ships you landed on. I haven't been to those ones yet. If you have anything else there, now’s a good time to get it."

    The woman strapped large bags onto the sides of the Varactyl. She hopped up onto Mira's back and once again extended her hand out to Savage. He climbed up and took his seat behind her. When Mira lurched forward, he gripped the woman's waist tightly so he wouldn't fall off and she laughed.

"Hold on tight handsome it's not a long ride but it's a turbulent one."

"A-alright princess."

      The added weight did nothing to slow Mira down. She was light on her feet and graceful. Leaping high into the air and gliding back down into the canopy. Princess whooped and cried out in excitement whereas Savage just held her tighter. His chest swelled with the rush. He was terrified but also having fun. He was a little disappointed when it ended and the ships were in sight. He slid off first and held his hands out for the princess. She beamed down at him and let Savage lift her by her waist with her hands on his shoulders. Her breath hitched when he pulled her down to him to set her on the grass underfoot. Quickly turning away to hide the heat rushing to her face.

"Alright, anything you wanna take, toss it in the bags. I'm gonna look through some of the others.”

    They parted. Savage always traveled light so he didn't have much to take with him. Some extra med gear and clothes, that was it. He hesitated in the cockpit looking down at the talisman that Mother Talzin gave him. It lay in pieces. He exhaled a silent apology, acknowledging that he probably wouldn't find his brother anytime soon. He slipped the pieces gently into his pocket and made his way out. After securing his few belongs in the saddle bag on Mira, he turned around to look for the princess. He could sense her nearby but couldn't see where she was.

"SAVAGE!"

He ran back to the hazardous pile of crashed ships.

"WHERE ARE YOU?"

He sighed relieved when she popped out behind his transport smiling ear to ear. His heart still pounding.

"It’s not huge but there's a Kriffing cargo ship buried under your transport and a fighter. Help me lift them. Cargos are gold mines."

    She stood shoulder to shoulder with him; well, shoulder to rib. Both of their arms were raised. It was shaky at first but they managed to move Savage’s large transport off to the side with the force. The fighter was much easier to shift. She grabbed his wrist and cried out excitedly, pulling him along to the sealed door.

"Could you cut it open with your saber?"

He smiled as she watched him ignite his saber and cut through the thick durasteel.

"Yes! Cutitopencutitopencutitopen!" she chanted excitedly and squealed.

Once he kicked the obstacle out of their way she shrieked and dove practically head first inside. When he entered, he was hit with the heavy scent of death. Four Weequay bodies lay scattered and half rotted around the cargo bay. Savage covered his nose with a disgusted look on his face.

The woman however didn't seem bothered by it as she sifted through the containers.

"This was a pirate ship... I haven't seen many of those," her whole top half was inside a rather large container while she spoke.

"Usually lots of credits, jewelry, spice.... not really useful to us right now but if we ever make it out of here, we'll be rich." He made his way to the sleeping quarters and took the standard med gear and hygiene supplies that was fairly standard to each room.

    When he came out, he found her pleasantly surprised as she held up some lovely dresses in bright colors to her form.

"I think I can tailor these to fit..." more thinking out loud than actually talking to him. She walked deeper, into the cockpit and tried to fire up the engine to no avail. She didn't have hope, it looked like they nose-dived into the ground anyway. She sighed and checked the common area.

    Rations, some cook ware in better shape than hers was, liquor... other odds and ends that would be decently useful. Savage found her holding a Sabacc deck.

"Do you know how to play?" She asked coyly?

"Yeah... some of the other nightbrothers taught me when I was a pup. Do you?" She shook her head.

"Well, I'll show you. We can play together." Her face lit up and something warmed in his chest that he'd never felt before. He pointed his thumb back towards the cargo bay.

"I found something you might be interested in.." she followed him; arms full. He fiddled with a small electronic box and powered it up.

"It won't connect to the net out here but it looks like there are some downloaded holovids,” he turned back to face her. She had dropped everything she was carrying and stared at him in amazement.

"I...I've never seen a holo-player out here before," he smirked.

"Well princess if you can charge it, we can see what's on it."

    The two of them loaded up what they had onto Mira. Princess did a thorough once over of the other ships. Finding a blaster with a decent amount of charges was the second best find next to the holo-player. They found a few sewing kits, more rations and med kits, and some crop seeds which also excited her.

They had ended up spending much longer than she wanted to searching through the wreckage. The sun was starting to set and it was falling fast.

"We need to get going. It gets dangerous at night... things come out.." she shifted uncomfortably on her feet looking up into the trees. Mira let out a quiet warning chirp. Savage lifted her up and put her on the Varactyl's back, climbing up behind her. This time when he held her waist it was more protective.

"I think I can sense them... what are they?"

Mira took off but it was slower, more cautious than when they came here to begin with.

"I don't know.. I've never seen them clearly. I know they have two arms, and three long sharp claws. Their hide is tough and... very rough. No fur.."

    Savage held his saber in one hand, not yet igniting it. He could see in the dark but these creatures still hid. The sky was a deep, dusty blue as dusk swallowed the atmosphere. It felt different at night. Like the air was hungry.

"I will keep you safe," he said as his eyes darted around. Once they broke the tree line it was only a short distance to the cabin. They unhooked the bags from Mira and she dashed behind the house up the barren hills, as far away from the forest as she could get. Savage and princess walked into the house.

"I've never seen them leave the forest. They've never come out of the trees into the clearing so the house and the yard are safe as well as the hot springs and hills behind us. Savage nodded in understanding.

"Stay here," his voice rumbled, "I'll fetch wood for the fire."

    She nodded before he left with his weapon in hand. Princess started putting away their various findings and set some rations out on the table. They were going to have to go hunting again tomorrow. She felt his shift in the force. Fear had a particularly unique wavelength. She took the blaster and right before could get to the door he kicked it open with his arms filled with wood. He hurried inside, dropped the wood and latched the lock. His face was blanched.

"Are you alright?" she asked slowly reaching for him.

"They just stood there. Behind the trees. Watching."

"You have night vision?"

He nodded and looked down at her.

"I... I’ve never seen anything like them. So.. gangly. Tall and.." he shuddered and shook his head, controlling himself. If she lived here for so long it was safe but when he turned back to face her, she had regressed.

"Beasts in the trees....." she still stood but her eyes were blown, her arms crossed over her chest; trembling.

"Beasts in the trees...." she repeated

He quickly gathered her up in his arms and sat on the bed. Her terror radiating off of her. He shushed her softly and rocked gently. With a finger under her chin, he tilted her face up to his.

"Come back to me princess," he whispered soothingly.

"It’s alright, you're safe. I will keep you safe. I've cut down bigger and scarier things in my life. My planet has a rancor infestation. I have you. It's alright," he continued to whisper and hold her until she came down. She splayed her hand on his chest over his hearts. Their strong beat acting as an anchor. She buried her face in his neck. Her breath hot on his skin.

That warm feeling pooled in his chest again. He ran his fingers across her forehead, swishing away the hair that had fallen over it. She finally pulled away to look into his eyes.

"T-thank you Savage... I don't know how much longer I could've lasted alone out here. I feel like I'm breaking as soon as the sun goes down." He thought about his next words carefully as he stroked her cheek.

"My people live in darkness. I have lived with and fought against its terrors all of my life. I swear to you I am strong enough to keep you from harm. Today I found myself... almost glad to have crashed here. Because of you, and what you can show me. But, mostly you princess," his face was hot. She pressed a tender kiss to his cheek.

"We should eat. You especially. I imagine you're starving. The rations aren't bad with the hot sauce I found," she smiled coyly at him.

    They ate in a comfortable silence. This time he watched as she slipped off her dress out of the corner of his eye. A feeling of want tingling under the surface. When they crawled in bed together, she wrapped her leg around him and lay her head on his chest. Listening to his hearts beat while he held her close to him.

She stayed like that all night and for the first time in years, she slept through the night.

[insufferablelust]

THE ARTIST AND HIS MUSE (v)

Hi lovely people! it’s me again with the fifth installment of TAAHM, hopefully y’all enjoy this, as always thank you for your support, and excuse the grammatical errors. As i said before, this story is dark themed, so it can get triggering to some people, please read the warning, and read at your own risk.

WARNINGS : BEWARE DARK FIC. SMUT, Angst to the max, Mental Illness (PTSD, with severe anxiety and depression), Some Fluff, hints/mention of Suicide (doesn’t happen), Psychological abuse (in flashbacks), over sensitivity (both sexual and non sexual), hints of Masochism, Anxiety attack, Soft raw tender moments, aaand thats it.

———————

A human creature born abnormally, inhumanly sensitive.To him a touch is a blow, a sound is a noise, a misfortune is a tragedy, a joy is an ecstasy, a friend is a lover, a lover is a god, and failure is death. —Pearl S. Buck.

———🍃———

Little did they know, that night is going to be the beginning of a roller coaster ride.

———//———

It was already late when she opened her eyes the next day, her soft sigh occupied the quiet room as she scanned for the one person she craved the most, biting her lips at the cold left side of the bed sheet. However, he’s kind enough to leave the only thing she could reminisce about last night in a form of a long letter note he left on her night table, written with purple ink,

“Good Morning Y/N,

I hope you’re feeling well, although knowing how anxious you can get, i know your mind would wander off and we don’t want that. If you can remember what i said, then good but if you can’t, i said that i left because it’s more convenient for the both of us, not because i don’t want to be with you. Believe me, watching you sleep right now really put an image inside my memory that i’ll never forget, you’re so beautiful.

I hope you don’t mind, but i put on Debussy on your vinyl right now. I want you to know that we’ll still talk about it, preferably today, maybe we can go have dinner unless we have a case. There are things i never got the chance to say, and i think its time i finally tell you, later.

As for your past, we’ll also talk about that too. But i want you to not worry— yes i’m disappointed still, but i know why you did what you did. We’ll figure out a way.

Lastly, please take care.

Spencer R.”

By the time she had finished reading, her internal being is overflowing with emotions, dangerous ones that she won’t be able to control and she knows this. Her eyes teared up at the sight of ‘Classical Lover Etiquettes’ cued up on her record player. Her legs were incredibly sore, as much as her thighs and arms. There was just so much that’s happening, so much to feel, and she needed to escape.

Her feet dragged her to the balcony, inhaling the scent of life, breathe in heavily as she hoped— cross her fingers hoping to die that the amount of oxygen would be able to drown her from all the confusion, even more so the horrors that started to flows back in. Spencer opened a large deep wound that she had buried a long time ago, and then he showed her the way to paradise. He confuses her as much as she probably confuses him.

She wanted to apologize for being complicated, wanted to get on her knees again and show him how much she needs a savior right now; someone to love, and cherish to get her mind off of the horrible things in the past. She wants him to know that he can help her, by guiding her like he did the night before, by owning her like he said the night before, by loving her like he promised. She needs to be devoted to him, she would do anything for him.

She knows how damaged she is on the inside, she put up a persona every day so people could believe that she’s alive. But the only time she ever felt alive was with Spencer. The only time she ever wished she’s not complicated is when she’s with Spencer, His name consumed her like the opiates she used to take. He owned her soul already and she’s not letting that go. Even if the world stands in her way. She deserves this, this pure thing for once.

So she cried, hard. Hard enough for her neighbors to hear, to check up on her, but she wasn’t listening, she stayed crouched down in her balcony, her vision was blurry and she can’t think of anything— only Spencer.

“Spencer..” was the only thing she remembered saying before she witnessed darkness and drowsiness penetrate her eyes as well as her other senses— sending her to sleep.

———————————

Y/N didn’t even flinched when her father’s screams once again filled her ears, telling her how she doesn’t belong, she isn’t supposed to be here, isn’t supposed to exists. She could smell the strong scent of alcohol from his mouth, clouding her senses, but she refused to give in and cry, in fact she doesn’t feel a thing. Moreover, she’s just bored, her father never got violent with her, never laid a hand on her, neither does her step mother— well not when he’s around anyways.

By the age of 9, Y/N already knew what kind of man her father was, the kind that doesn’t want to admit reality, he’s a violent genius who works in the dark, with barriers covering all sides of his life. He never hurt Y/N physically, like he always claimed. But 12 years of psychological torture will fuck you up, she thought. She lived in isolation, and darkness where the only things she knew.. were alcohol, math, abuse, impending death, and screams.

She doesn’t have anyone related that’s nice to her, enough to shield her from all the abuse. The only person that could bring her peace is Mr. Bones, one of her father’s men. He always looked out for her, he gave her hope ever since she was old enough to know that being told you were never meant to be alive was not okay.

“I apologize, papa. It won’t happen again, I swear it.”

Her eyes stayed on the ground as she feels the warmth of his palm so close to her cheek, she yelled in her mind— her mind telling her to scream at the old bastard to “Hit me!”

“Hit me!”

“Make it hurt!”

“HIT ME!”

——

Y/N felt a jolt, her eyes searching for signs of where she might be but she can’t seem to open her eyes, the smell— is clean like iodine, the next thing she felt was the rough yet strangely comfortable sheets that grazes against her skin, And then she heard the talk, someone’s talking.. She recognized the voice well, so well like its imprinted deep in her soul, She tried to open her eyes.. yet she keeps on missing.

“S-she— i found her pale.. she was so pale and cold.. “ Spencer! her mind screamed, that’s Spencer.

“Spencer!” She tried to yell, but still nothing,

“Spencer please!” Nothing.

“What did her neighbor said?” Hotch!

“Hotch please i’m awake!”

“She was screaming, and they found her clutching her shirt tightly, she was crying and she.. she said my name over and over again, before blacking out.. thats why they called me first after calling 911” Is that true? she has been taking her meds, hasn’t she?

“Did anyone said that she was about to jump or anything like that?”

“No! No! Spencer i’m not suicidal!”

“N-no i don’t know.. Hotch i was with her last night, i should’ve—“

“Please don’t cry! please i’m sorry i love you i won’t do it again!”

“Hey no, she looked like she was having a panic attack. Has she ever mentioned anything about being depressed? or experiencing anxiety attacks maybe?”

“no... no... don’t tell him Spencer, you promised.”

“Stop the silence, Spencer you promised you won’t tell anyone.”

“N-no.. not that i know off.. she wanted company so i stayed with her, we watched movie.”

“Spencer...” She tried again, believing that it won’t work, he won’t hear her, maybe she’s not even here anymore— just floating away from her body. But when she saw his head turned towards her, she sighed contently, letting go of all the burden for a second just to hear him mutter her name in silence and peace.

“Y/N... you’re awake wait let me—“ before he could exit the door, Hotch pulled him back a little, telling him that “It’s okay, let me get the doctor.” Leaving Spencer and her alone.

Her heart rate accelerated as he sat down on the chair next to her, eyes filled with worry and fear— Y/N couldn’t take it, couldn’t bare to see how broken he looks, because she was selfish and complicated, because she was damaged.

“I-i wasn’t... trying to.. jump” Her voice came out laced with fragility, all raw and quiet. She’s trying to tell Spencer that she’s alright, as long as he’s here she’ll be alright. “Don’t.. please don’t blame yourself, it was an anxiety attack, a bad one.”

“Have you been taking your meds?” There it is, the question she has been hoping she wouldn’t have to answer. She looked down at his trembling hands, reaching to grab it but unable to do so because she realized now that she was restrained to the bed.

“Why am i being restrained?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“No Spencer i haven’t! now why am i restrained? i’m not a danger to anyone.” Y/N half yelled with a cracked voice, closing her eyes tightly at the tears that’s threatening to spill out of her eyes.

“Miss Bones, i see that you’re awake now.” Her eyes never leaving the sight of her cuffed wrist, ‘did they honestly thought you were planning on killing yourself?’

“I’m not suicidal, i’m an FBI agent for god’s sake.” The tone of her newfound voice surprised everyone including Spencer.

“Then why were you unconscious on the balcony of your apartment?”

“Because i haven’t been taking my pills! look, i haven’t for years now and i was fine. It was just rush of emotions, and i got overwhelmed okay? doesn’t mean i was going to jump. Believe me thats the last thing i would’ve wanted.” The last bit was a whisper, indicating the raw pain behind it. It was the truth, moments before you passed out you were thinking of Spencer, of how he’s your savior.

“Okay, Agent. We believe you, now why don’t you get some rest, and we’ll have you prescribed for something stronger, meanwhile i’m going to take the cuffs off” The doctor replied gently, except you know he’s not a doctor well he is but he’s a psychiatrist. Great, now everyone think she’s crazy.

——————

After the incident, you rarely talked to anyone on your team not because they don’t want to but because you won’t let them. You’ve caused enough pain, so the last thing you want to see is the pity on their eyes and face, it was nice seeing how they care though— sometimes in the mornings you can hear Garcia and JJ dropping new baskets full of goodies and treats for you to try. Sliding a note underneath your door before leaving.

Hotch insisted you to take a month break, which you would’ve tried to argued but you knew you didn’t stand a single chance. You could’ve lose your job, he could’ve fired you for lying about your psychological problems and endangering yourself but he didn’t, though he wanted you to take the break, and do another psych eval, so you agreed.

The bad thing about not going to work, except the obvious fact that you miss your work family and you missed out on catching men women alike your father and his killer— is not seeing Spencer often enough. It made you anxious just thinking how he’s doing constantly, Prentiss has said in a text that ‘he seems okay, just a little off’ in which you ended the conversation quickly, not wanting to let invasive questions spring up to life.

You’ve tried to contact him multiple times, yet he never answered the calls, there was one time where he had responded your text; it was the one after you told him that you haven’t eaten and taken your meds because thats what you do now, pretending like he actually listens you, that day you heard a knock, before finding out that there was a box of pizza; the tuna, with creamy mushroom kind, your favorite. Spencer is the only one who knew about it, so it was him. You cried that night knowing that he was close... yet you didn’t see him.

After that, nothing. Nothing at all, until it was your 17th day isolated in your apartment trying to get better. A therapist from FBI was supposed to come today, checking up on you, Hotch’s order. So when you heard a knock, you opened the door without looking.

“Y/N...”

“Hi you must be the— Spencer?” You eyes went wide as you recognized the person standing at your door, you swear your knees buckled finally seeing him again after so long. His hair seemed longer, his eyes has bags under them, he doesn’t look fine.

“Spencer, you look—“

“Can i come in?” His voice startled you, it was deep, deeper than you remembered it last.

“Yes, yes please come in..” You watched him enter your house, eyes scanning through every bit of everything, probably profiling your condition. So you let out a chuckle as you close the door, “I’m fine Spencer, unless you didn’t notice, i’m doing therapy 3 times a week plus routine visits from every therapist in town it seemed like. So i’m good” the tone of your voice reflects sarcasm and you know it, but how can you help it when he wont even look at you.

“Thats good..” He mumbled, sitting down on the couch where you two talked the last time about your past, you remembered that night’s event so clearly you could’ve sworn you have an eidetic memory. “You haven’t been sleeping have you?”

“no.” you sat down next to him, deciding that you shouldn’t touch him even if you wanted to.

“Why?”

“Because i worry about you.”

“Spencer, i told you i’m—“

“No! no you can’t say that you’re fine, again. do you know what you did me? after the night we had, you basically suffered an anxiety so bad you collapsed on your balcony, while whispering my name. You don’t get to say that you’re fine, i deserve more Y/N.”

You didn’t flinched even once when you heard his voice raised, if anything you just close your eyes and not let the volume of his voice get inside your head, “Everyone who yells is the same like your father, wake the fuck up” is what your mind been telling you but you refused to listen to it, Spencer is good, he’s a good man. So you controlled your breathing for a second before opening your eyes to see Spencer’s face begging for answers.

“You’re right, you deserve answers and you’ll get your answers but can you please listen to me and don’t interrupt? Spencer, i need the space if you want me to tell you, the space to make you understand.” Your palm move on top of his to see his reaction, you expected him to swat your hands away or at least flinched but strangely he let out a pleasant sigh, like he was relieved, like every weight has been lifted off of him.

“Okay, i’m sorry for—“

You cut him off before he could say what he’s sorry for, you don’t need it— his reactions are normal, too normal that it makes you fall in love with him over and over again. “Shh, don’t. You don’t have to explain, you don’t have to respond, just.. wait here, i’ll tell you everything okay..?”

With a nod you get from him, you stand up to make two chamomile teas, bringing it to where Spencer is sitting on the couch, then after you put on Gymnopédie on your record player, you sit down next to him. To your surprise, he leaned and laid his head on top of your thighs, curling up on the couch— which sent a smile to your face, you haven’t smiled for so long and of course Spencer Reid is the one who put your first smile since.. you don’t even remember when.

————

“It’s one of my favorite, I love the serenity of it.” You whispered, as your fingers ran through his soft hair. Relaxing your back against the couch and enjoying the tune of one of your favorite classical of all time. Spencer smiled at that, you swore the smile could lit your insides like nothing else.

“I’m a beethoven guy, but i guess Satie is alright..” He laughs, his laugh sounded like heaven, his smile and laugh makes you dizzy. This is the Spencer that makes your heart pound ten times faster, and the one that makes you lost for words each time, the one that you’ll love... too fast Y/N, too fast.

“Of course you are, it’s not hard to see..”

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

Spencer looked up at you, he looked so pure like this, like he was made to justify every wrong things that has been done, like he’s an angel that protects the earth from filth. He’s pure and tender, it takes all of your willpower to not lean down and kiss him.

“Oh yes, explanation.” You laughed awkwardly, eyes refusing to meet his. “Look at me, please” You shake your head at his demand, your eyes still trailing to where the record player is going.

“Look at me, Y/N.” You did, you looked. Under any other circumstances, the authoritative tone would instantly leave you dripping wet ready to submit to him. But this time, you only whimpered and nods.

“Good girl, now tell me” He cupped your cheeks, the gentle gesture sent you to oblivion.

“I don’t know where to start..”

“I heard the beginning is a great start.” His lips tugged into a wide smile, you heart warmed at the sight before you sigh, your fingers still curling and uncurling itself on his hair.

“I opened up to you that night, it’s something strange for me, i told you something that i swore i would never tell anyone, but i told you because.. because you were right, you are right Spencer. And i guess after that we took it to a whole new different level, i want to be able to do all the things with you and cross all boundaries but it’s something new to me, so that morning when i... woke up alone, it was scary, i felt so small and sad in such a big space. I was overwhelmed, by the thought of letting another person in, i don’t wanna take it slow but then again the transition won’t be easy for me.” Spencer opened his mouth as he was about to say something, but you simply leaned in shakily and press a quick peck on his lips as a sign that you’re not done yet, to your surprise he pulled you down one more time and let the kiss linger this time before letting you pull back, whispering a small “go on.”

“I lived in isolation most of my life, the only taste of real life emotions i ever got was the moment right after my graduation. The man who saved me, he teached me social skills, and the basics of.. of having this gift of rawness emotions. But i’ve been so closed off, i realized its just not possible for me to fall in love or feel such a strong emotion towards another, the only strong emotion i’ve ever known before this was.. hatred towards my father and his killer.

I had PTSD when i was 13, consistent with severe anxiety and depression, at one point Mr.Bones insisted that i...i started talking to myself, admitted me to a psychiatrist where i got my.. antipsychotics for um the voices. But i came out well, and he promised me that if i was able to make it, he would change my identity, stripped me out of my old misery, give me a new one, my father was a very very important man where he worked, so does his men including Mr.Bones. Thats why before i was 21, there’s no record of Y/N Bones existed because.. i didn’t, i never existed.”

Y/N ended it with a smile, looking down at Spencer whose eyes brimming with tears. She shook her head, her trembling fingers wiping the traces of tears. “Hey no no, please don’t cry, please it’s hurt to see you cry..” She whimpered.

“Spencer please say something..” Her eyes pleaded with her, as he sat up, before inching closer to her and before she even processed the warmth of his body, his lips pressed themselves against hers in a gentle loving way. His thumb stroking her soft supple cheek, as his lips took its time to explore every inch of hers, imprinting how it feels so he can remember it all the time. Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck as he guided her to his lap, pulling back a little.

They stared at each other for such a long time, before Spencer move his hand downward— tugging on her shirt. “Do you want to?” His voice rise your goosebumps to wake, all the adrenaline rushing through your core as you nod eagerly. “Please”

——————

“Tchaikovsky.”

“what?”

“This is tchaikovsky.” Spencer looked up at her, seeing how needy but beautiful she is, her skin glistening under the dim lights, her lashes are wet, her eyes glassy, and her lips bitten raw. He smiled admiring her before continuing his exploration down her labia, stroking it gently— almost like he’s teasing her.

“yes Spencer this is, Oh god!” you stopped mid-sentence as you felt the warmth of his tongue exploring from her slit up to her clit, flicking the sensitive button gently— Holy mother! doesn’t he know how sensitive she is?

“I’m pretty sure Tchaikovsky isn’t god, Princess.” the doctor giggles as his fingers tracing her tummy gently, caressing every mark every curve every indent every scar so so gently to show her how much he appreciates her, appreciate her beauty— all of it.

“Shut up!” She whined and shuddered as she feels him burying his face against her sensitive pussy, tongue swiping side to side at her slit as his nose bumps against her clit sending intense pleasure throughout her body making her jolt and convulse as she tug on his hair.

“Are you sure that’s wise, princess? i’m the one in charge of your orgasm here” Her legs quivered, his tongue push inside her and explore every inch of her inside— moaning at the taste and catching every drop.

“Sorry! so sorry Spencer, just don’t stop!” Oh how sweet is that, her voice cracked at the end, meaning he’s doing a good job. And the boy wonder does seek for praises sometimes.

“Never planning on it, love.” He mumbled against her pussy before inserting two fingers in, and moving them in a brutal pace whilst her tongue and lips sucking on her clit.

“Oh! Spencer, you’re so good at this” Her eyes shut tightly, as her fingers gripping his hair— she’s practically grinding against his face which he moaned at the sight and taste of her, oh so heavenly.

“C’mon Princess, come for me then i will give you what you’ve been waiting for” oh the way she clenched around her fingers so tightly, made him groaned and shut his eyes tight as he works her over the orgasm

“Spencer! oh! thank you!” Every inch of her skin was burning and her brain was mush. So much pleasure, that she could die happily now. Her body shivers still, when he comes up to leave tiny kisses on her face. “Good girl.” Spencer then align himself at her entrance, sliding the tip up and down her pussy.

“Ready, princess?”

“Yes.. yes please?” With a smile on his face, Spencer bent Y/N’s knees before pushing the tip of his cock inside of her slowly, indulging in the velvety warm walls that welcomed his cock. The feeling is like home. Her mouth agape, as her eyes roll at the back of her head, and her fingers intertwined with his.

He stilled inside her for awhile as he let out grunts of how “so warm and tight, pet” she is. He then leaned down to press a gentle loving kiss on her lips before thrusting his cock in and out of her slowly, keeping the pace light as they both relinquish all the frustrations out, and indulging in each other’s warmth. It’s perfect.

“so— full, Spencer..” Her desperate whimpers was the one that egged him to move faster, thrusting his hips so every-time he thrusted in, the sounds were slapping of skins and their moans. But when one particular deep thrust, her cunt involuntary clenched around his cock and she screamed “Thats it! thats it fuck!”

Spencer grinned, before letting go of her hand to grip her waist, pulling her closer to him then continue to fuck her with a torturous brutal pace, hitting the spot over and over again. “I’m not going to last if you keep- fucking clenching that tight cunt Y/N” He warned, eyes glinting with a dangerous look like how he was that night. Feral.

Strings of plea left her mouth as she arched her back, he was so deep— filling her to the brim and making her feel good.

“Please cum inside me!”

“I will baby, i will. But first you gotta cum alright? can you do that? i know you can, c’mon” His breathing labored as he move even faster, her headboard banged against the wall, and her body bounced. With one final deep thrust, they reached their peak, and shuddered at the feeling. Spencer pulls out before grabbing a wet cloth from the beside table and carefully wiped her sensitive areas, causing goosebumps that were dying down to rise again.

“Swan lake” Was the first thing she muttered as her legs still quivering, Spencer looked up at her confusedly as he set throw the cloth to the dirty hamper and laid down beside her once more, cuddling her to his side.

“What?” he asked, his fingers running through her hair.

“Tchaikovsky’s, Swan lake was playing.” They both laughed at her answer, shaking their heads. It wasn’t until Y/N’s eyes flickered to his hazy ones, that they muttered it together,

“I love you—“

“I love you—“

———————

TBC!

As always, TAGLIST is open, blurb requests are also open any genre of course, send them in along with suggestions and/or constructive criticisms! thank you. Just message me or send me an ask :) thank you for supporting. I’M SO SORRY FOR THE REUPLOAD, the TAGS DOESNT WORK TUMBLR IS MEAN TO ME AGAIN❤️

( @blancastans @spencerwaltergubler @slutforthegubes @n1ghtsh4d3-67 @babybloomer @liaabsurd @midnightsubmissives @addie5264 @maybankslut @secretpickleprofessordean )

[harrysweasleys]

all the things you do // d.m

Summary: Hi I was wondering if you would make a Draco X Reader where the reader is suffering from some Mental illness issues if possible? If not I completely understand! thank you for doing what you do

Warnings: PTSD, brief mentions of death

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: sweet anon, i’m sorry if you wanted this set during hogwarts times but i just instinctively thought of writing this post-war! also i don’t know why the ending rhymes. i’m a poet, apparently! enjoy :) x

——————————

Draco Malfoy had always been a naturally confident man. He usually walked with his head held high, his shoulders broad and straightened and his posture nearly impeccable.

He practically radiated confidence. And he was damn proud of that fact, all thanks to you.

The Second Wizarding War had taken a drastic toll on Draco. He had lost everything about who he was meant to be. He lost any contact with his parents, lost his identity and his friends, and even lost the path he had carved for himself. Or, really, the path his parents had carved for him. He had never really wanted to become a Death Eater — but it was all he knew. His parents had shaped this life for him and he was just living in it.

But when the war ended and peace was settling upon the Wizarding world once more, that’s when you came into Draco’s life. He knew you, of course. He had noticed you throughout the years at Hogwarts without ever making a move to speak to you. At first, you blended into the crowd. Just another face in a big world. But, as the years progressed, you slowly became more prominent in the Slytherin prince’s life.

He found you captivating in every possible way. You were soft, gentle, kind, sweet beyond compare. Everything seemed to hold a good place in your heart and Draco was enchanted by everything you did. Had he formed a teeny tiny crush? Maybe — possibly. But he never made an effort in getting to know you, knowing how his time at Hogwarts was going to end. And he knew it was going to end bloody. The last thing he wanted was to drag your into it. Someone so sweet, so pure.

When Voldemort was defeated, the dust settled, and order began getting restored, Draco wondered what had happened to you. Wondered where you’d run off to, where you’d be resting now that there was no longer an imminent threat around every dark corner. He thought about you a lot, really.

He’d thought about the way the sunshine made your hair glow, or the way your cheeks turned a light pink under any sort of attention, or even the way that your eyes lit up every time Hagrid would bring out another strange, possibly dangerous creature to demonstrate to an eager class. He had always hated Care of Magical Creatures, found it completely useless, but he adored watching your face light up upon being introduced to new species. 

He had thought about you so much, really, that he couldn’t find the proper words to say when he bumped into you strolling through Diagon Alley one cloudy afternoon, your scarf tied tightly around your neck and your long coat billowing lightly in the fresh wind. You had looked the same as you did the last time he saw you, but a few things had changed. You cut your hair, your skin was slightly more tanned, and you were wearing a hint of makeup that brought out the gorgeous colour of your eyes. 

“You’re Draco,” you had said, smiling up at him. The same breathtaking smile you had given him on a few occasions at school. 

Nearly forgetting to speak, Draco had spluttered out a lame, “That’s me.”

However, you had invited him over for tea to catch up at your flat a week later — despite his lameness upon your interaction — and Draco felt himself falling for you all over again. Luckily for him, you felt the same, and the two of you made it official in just a few weeks. It felt rather quick, but both of you knew that there was a reason you bumped into each other, and that reason felt like it was coming to be under a romantic light.

And with you in his life, Draco felt himself returning to his previous charm. He found himself smiling, forgetting, forgiving. It was a new look on him, but he didn’t mind it one bit.

However, while Draco was improving, he noticed you slowly beginning to change. And not for the better. He’d find you staring at the ceiling late at night, unable to sleep. He’d noticed how you’d pick at your plate but would never eat anything. He’d noticed how you jumped at sounds or spells that would happen nearby. And now that he was paying more attention, he noticed how you haven’t touched your wand since that day. 

You had also stopped caring about things that used to make you incredibly happy. Movie nights, walking through old London streets, the rumbling sound of thunder and heavy rain.

He figured you were just stressed — still not used to a ‘quiet’ lifestyle. But he couldn’t even fool himself. There was something wrong with you and he hated to think he couldn’t help.

“Love, you’re worrying me,” he sat you down one afternoon, his hand laced in yours as your eyes landed on him. You had been reading a book, but been on the same page for nearly fifteen minutes. You were usually a rather speedy reader, Draco knew you weren’t really paying attention to the book.

“Why?” you asked, blinking rapidly as you put your attention on him.

He hesitated, unsure if telling you all the things he noticed you were doing would set you off. The last thing he wanted was for you to become defensive or insulted.

“What’s wrong?” he decided to ask.

He noticed the way your face seemed to drop, but you composed yourself and furrowed your eyebrows, “Do you think about the death that we saw?”

Taken aback by your blunt question, he stared blankly at you. Had he been affected by seeing young bodies scattered around the Hogwarts grounds, bloody and lifeless? Yes. Had it haunted him for weeks? Yes. But did he continue to dwell on it? No.

He hated that so many of these young students died believing he was a villain, that he was the reason all of the tragedy had happened. He hated the thought that he was on the same side as the force that killed dozens of innocent kids. But as he moved on in his life, he felt as if he had also redeemed himself. That he had improved and learned from his mistakes. And although Draco Malfoy didn’t believe he had much to pride himself on, he definitely took pride in that.

“I used to,” he replied truthfully, forcing away the horrid flashbacks to the brutally gruesome scene at Hogwarts the last time he stepped foot there.

You nodded, “I still do. And I can’t stop thinking about it. Every time I close my eyes, I see their dead ones staring back at me.”

Suddenly, Draco’s mouth felt awfully dry and the crushing feeling in his chest seemed to amplify, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He watched as your eyes closed and reopen, the gears in your head spinning as you thought about what to say next, “Because I didn’t know how. I remember how guilty you felt after the war and I don’t want you to think this is your fault.”

Draco furrowed his eyebrows and scooted closer to you, “If you’re dealing with something, I don’t care if it’s about me or not. You can tell me anything, love. You don’t have to, but if you want to, I’m always here.” 

You gave him a weak smile, “I know. I’m sorry. I was being stubborn. I just didn’t want to burden you with my problems.”

“Love,” he spoke, his voice coarse as his throat felt like it was closing in, “You’re never burdening me. We’re in this together, remember?”

And he stuck true to his word.

By the next few weeks, you found yourself able to sleep more than one hour a night. It was both thanks to Draco — who was helping you every second of the day — and thanks to the therapist you had begun to see in central London.

One of the very few Wizarding therapists, Draco offered to pay the hefty price for every session you attended. So far, you had only been to four sessions, but you already found that talking about your thoughts had improved them greatly.

“How was your session today?” Draco asked you over dinner that evening, placing his fork down and smiling over at you.

“Good,” you spoke back softly, “Feeling better. She seemed impressed that I actually slept four hours last night. And that it was my first night in a week without a nightmare.”

“Did she tell you to do anything?” he asked, lips curving up into a slight smile.

You nodded, “Told me to just take an evening off. Bubble bath, watch some crap telly — a normal evening, really.”

Draco smiled faintly, “We can do that.”

“Thank you,” you smiled, and Draco noticed that for the first time in a while, your smile didn’t look forced. Your shoulders slouched as you relaxed, continuing to munch lightly on the lovely dinner Draco had cooked up to cheer your spirits.

The rest of the evening was peaceful. The two of you sat in the bubble bath, talking and laughing about some old memories and even what you thought would happen in your near future. Then, you both wrapped yourselves up in comfy clothing and blankets and sat on the couch watching re-runs of old sitcoms until the middle of the night.

Draco’s heart did a little leap in his chest every time you laughed — every time you did so much as smile. He knew you weren’t fully ready, weren’t fully yourself just yet. But every step that he noticed improvement was a huge deal.

He had no problem doing all the chores around the house — cooking, cleaning, laundry — as you took time to yourself. It brought him joy, really, knowing that every little thing he did would help push you to improvement. Some days were better than others, but he didn’t complain once, for he knew that helping you would take time.

And he was willing to be as patient as possible for you.

“I love you,” he muttered to you that night as the cheesy sitcom played in the background, pressing a delicate kiss to the spot under your ear.

“I love you too,” you replied softly. He fought back a massive smile, turning to face you and lightly placing his lips on your temple. His entire body broke out into goosebumps at your words.

No matter what was going to come your way, no matter what people would say, Draco Malfoy had promised both you and himself that he’d be there every second of the day.

[marauder-exe]

Outburst- Sirius Black x reader

Prompt: “I'm in love with you! Is that what you wanna hear?”

word count: 1506

A/n: Hihi! This is my first full fic so id love your feedback!, Requests are open as always. Thank u :)

It fucking sucked. Your best friend, Sirius had been ignoring you all week, most days you where practically attached at the hip, inseparable and content. But one day, out of the blue, he started ignoring you, like what the fuck? Being close with the marauders since first year, you tried to ask them what was up with him, but all you received was a chorus of ‘i dunno’s . It was utterly frustrating to be honest, and it honestly hurt. You'd been crushing on him since second year, in love since third. It was hard, keeping the biggest secret from your best friend for the last four years, but you couldn't tell him, tell notorious playboy Sirius Black, that you've been in love with him since he had cheered you up with endless jokes and stories that one night you'd been crying in the hallway all those years go. It was impossible, if you told him you'd loose him, fuck up your friendship and be alone again, but if you didn't tell him, you'd be stuck, crushed under the weight of your love while he goes rendezvousing with some 6th year. You couldn't live with him and you couldn't live without him. You where undeniably, irrevocably in love with him and he hadn't the faintest idea. But today you where determined to find out why he had been avoiding you, all the moving seats away from you in classes, the avoiding you in the great hall, the library, the common room, what was it all for?

So the next day you woke up, you where on a mission, You stretched and yawned, sitting up in your bed, looking at your picture of the marauders and you, you started to get ready for the day, you where on a mission. You mentally checked your timetable, for what lessons you had with Sirius, Herbology, DADA, and care of magical creatures. Perfect Care of magical creatures was the last lesson of the day and he couldn't possibly avoid you. So your day went along, slowly may I add. Herbology, divination, DADA, muggle studies, alchemy, Sirius desperately trying to avoid your burning glare through your shared lessons, which was pretty hard. Lily had come up to you during Herbology, to ask what was up with you and Sirius, knowing you two where never out of each others sight, but you couldn't exactly give her a solid answer. Then you saw something in her eyes, a little glint of something.

“Ahhhh righttttt.” She dragged on.

“what is it lils? Do you know something? Did James tell you something? Why that slimy git!” You quickly perked up. Although you didn't miss the blush that crept on her pale face at the mention of James.

She quickly shook her head “Nope, just heard a little something through the grape vine.” She smirked.

“I swear to merlin lils if you don't tell me ill strangle you with that grape vine!”

“Ah ah ah, all in due time, peaches.” You smirked and saddened at the thought of where the nickname came from. Your very classy best friends, the marauders, well mostly James, decided it would be a great idea for you to flash the whole school your underwear. A cute set with peaches on them. Sirius stopped them after a few seconds, citing it was a bit insensitive, and he would do it to lily if James tried that again, but you didn't miss Sirius’ little whisper, ‘they do look cute doll’, You smiled, you and Sirius had always been like that, flirty. It broke your heart every time because you knew he didn't mean it. You huffed.

“Fine, lils but if I don't find out soon I will blow my lid”

She smiled, shook her head and started to walk away, she turned “You'll be blowing more then that when you find out”

what was she possibly on about?

The conversation lingered in your mind for a dew hours after, a strange strange woman she was, but you could see why James was in love with her, You longed for something like that. Care of magical creatures finally rolled around, you'd been anxious all lesson, dreading and anticipating your chat with Sirius. Classes with professor Kettleburn where always exciting, I mean the man was missing half of his limbs, for god sake. Although it passed by fairly quickly, your nerves went up and up. The end of the class came and you saw Sirius make a dash back to the castle, obviously not wanting to speak to you, the marauders drawled slowly behind, talking about whatever.

“Sirius! Sirius!” You shouted, but he just quickened his pace. As you neared the whomping willow, you quickly ran up to him, pushed him against the tree, and stuck your wand at his neck. “Why wont you talk to me?”

James, Peter and Remus quietly made a bet as the scene unfolded. “ Bets on that he’ll choke” James clearly had a lot of faith in his friend.

“I don't think he’ll tell her” Peter squeaked. Thanks man.

“Nah, he’ll tell her” At least someone believed in his friend.

“Alright 5 galleons he chokes?” James challenged.

“Bet”

“I have no clue what your talking about” Sirius said offhandedly.

You removed your wand from his neck, you where not playing this game.

“You know what im talking about, You've avoided me this entire week. Practically attached at the hip for the Last 6 years and now! Now is the time you deicide you've had enough. What is it Sirius? What are you running from? What's got Hogwarts stone faced, witty, playboy so down? Why wont you fucking talk to me?” You belted, not caring who would hear. He grew angrier from each word you spoke, until he stood his full ground, shoulders squared, looking hurt and angry.

“’m in love with you! Is that what you wanna hear?”

That's when it hit you, he couldn't, He's Sirius black, playboy extraordinaire, he couldn't possibly love you.

“Sirius…”

“What? That-that iv'e been in love with you since I saw you in first year, that my heart aches every time I see you because I know you don't feel the same, that I have to sleep with every girl under the sun to try to forget that you couldn't possibly love a man like me. You wanna hear how I notice how angelic you look in the morning, even after crashing in my bed from exhaustion? How every morning you look at the picture of us and the marauders you have on your night stand because “you always want to begin the day with your best friends” on the off chance you don't see one of us today? Or the fact that since the day ive met you ive never seen you wear a single pair of matching socks because your superstitious and their lucky? How you have books practically falling out of your dorm its that jam packed, because you want to read every book ever created? How you look so perfect without even trying? Even when you've been swimming, or not slept in days, or haven't showered in a week, even then you look unbelievably perfect I wonder what we did to deserve you being friends with us? I wonder what I did to have someone as perfect as you in my life? Huh? How ill never have a chance with you because of how undeniably perfect you are? How you deserve someone smart like Remus, or sporty like James? Someone who you would undeniably be perfect with? But they're not in love with you, I am! And as much as you don't feel the same I really hope this doesn't ruin our fucking friendship just because im fucking in love wit you!”

By the end of his speech he looked so exhausted, like the weight of the world had just been lifted off of his shoulders, while you just stood there, dumbfounded. The boy you've been head over heels for since 2nd year liked you back. You just stared, stared and stared. You where left absolutely speechless. He took that as a bad sign, a tear rolled down his cheek as he turned to walk away, muttering a quiet ‘that's what I thought’.

You had to do something, anything before he walked away. So, you ran up to him and pulled him down for what had to be on of The Most Passionate Kisses In The History Of Kisses ©. Its like all the emotion over the past 6 years had been poured into the kiss, only to be broken apart by hearing your friends dry heaving in the background, you shot them a death glare and turned back to Sirius, who had the most lovestruck look on his face.

“So, you feel the same?” He smiled.

“Of course I do, dummy” You two where so enthralled in each other you missed Peter and James each slipping 5 galleons into Remus’ hand with disgruntled looks on their faces while he just smirked

[twoidiotwriters1]

Déjà Vu (Or are we losing our minds?) XII -Modern!Shirbert

A/N: I wrote 14 parts of this thing just to write the one AU! that I wanted to make and it didn’t even take the whole chapter why do I hate myself so much -Danny

Words: 1,660

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Chapter Twelve: I think we've met (But I can't be sure)

Asleep or awake    

I dream of you all the same.

Anne was determined to have a good time, and considering it was a day before Christmas Eve, it wasn't that hard to act excited and giddy.

Diana met her at the bar around 2 pm, neither of them were heavy drinkers, so they would be in for the afternoon of their lives.

"Okay!" Anne tapped the table excitedly. "I saw that insta story you posted yesterday. Rant to me, Diana..."

_____________________

Gilbert roughly closed his laptop and pushed it aside.

Nothing. Roy had no 'Anne' added to his contacts on any social media, no pictures with her either.

Maybe he was going crazy.

Okay, maybe loneliness was perhaps not the best companion, and with the planning for the Orchard's anniversary, it was easy to let stress take over, but at this point, Anne was so real to him he could almost remember her voice, the way her hand felt on his...

Fuck, he really was losing his mind.

Deciding to take a break from life in general, Gilbert laid back on the couch and turned on the tv, he found a shitty horror movie and approved of it almost instantly, nothing like a predictable plot to distract you from the slow decay of your mental health.

_____________________

"...And that's that," Diana retrieved her phone from Anne's hands. "You're with me?"

"Yes! Oh my god," Anne shook her head. "I usually don't speak ill about other girls, but if this asshole tries to get the credit of one of your songs again, I'll have to commit murder."

Diana laughed, she looked down at her phone and scrolled through the posts of her feed. Suddenly she came across a new one and let out a short exclamation.

"Look, Anne!" She showed her the picture. "The Orchard's having a party right after the Holidays!"

"Isn't that place like a family restaurant?"

"Yeah, but it's their anniversary, look," She pushed the phone towards her. "We should go."

"Why? Ruby's the one obsessed with a waiter..."

"Yeah, but we had fun last time we were there," Diana grinned.

Anne tilted her head, trying to remember.

"Well, the first half of the night was fun, yeah..."

"Oh, the second half was even better, and your amnesia's proof of it," Her friend laughed.

"Whatever," Anne snorted.

Diana grabbed her phone once more and quickly accessed the Orchard's profile.

"Honestly, it looks like it's going to be fun, and it's around the same time we have to go back anyway, so maybe the party could lift our spirits? Aww, look! A picture of the owners..."

She gasped so loudly Anne almost jumped out of her chair.

"What? What is it?"

"No way!" Diana smiled. "I can't believe he owns that place!"

"What are you talking about?"

"An old classmate," The girl explained brightly. "You didn't get to meet him because he moved out after his mom died, but he was a nice kid, everyone in our class liked him... I always wondered what had happened to him..."

"He owns the restaurant?" Anne raised a brow. "Nice, is he cute? Maybe if you date him we could get free meals..."

Diana laughed. "He wasn't really my type, but I wouldn't mind it if he asked me out anyway... look..."

The redhead looked down at the picture and something in her chest tightened with weird excitement. She knew that face.

"Di," She said quietly. "What did you say his name was?"

"I didn't tell you," She sipped a bit of her drink before replying. "Gilbert Blythe."

"Funny," Anne frowned. "Are you sure I've never met him?"

Diana snorted. "Well, shouldn't you know that better than me?"

"I feel like I've seen him around..."

"Maybe you saw him the night we went to his diner? He works there, after all..."

"Right," She said without much conviction. "Maybe..."

"Oh, how festive!" Diana nudged her arm, successfully distracting her. "A day before Christmas eve and this place decided it's a great idea to show Zombieland on every tv..."

Anne snorted.

"Nothing says 'Happy Christmas' better than mutilated corpses, Diana."

***

"Text me when you get home!"

"I will..."

"And think about the party, I believe we could have a great time, I bet they would all love to see Gilbert again..."

Anne smiled at her comment, she didn't know this Gilbert guy but Diana seemed to have a soft spot for him, even if she hadn't seen him since she was twelve years old. Maybe he'd be a kindred spirit of sorts.

"I'll think about it. See you!"

_____________________

Gilbert walked out of the building with nothing but a backpack and a rusty hammer. This wasn't the ideal weapon to defend yourself from zombies, but it was all he could find. He could look for better armament later, right now he had to find a safe place where to sleep.

His steps, though muffled by the dust, were pretty much the only sound he could notice, which was a good sign, but also, a bit unnerving.  His shirt was sticking to his lower back thanks to the sweat, he couldn't remember the last time he'd showered, hell, he couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten...

Ahead of him, there was a sleeping dog, in his hungry state he considered killing the poor animal and eat him whole, but he thought it to be too desperate, even for someone in his position.

However, Gilbert quickly regretted his decision the second after he'd taken it. At the sound of his footsteps, the dog woke up — or well, more like simply stood up, judging by the state of his bloodshot eyes the man doubted that animal was even capable of sleeping.

The creature growled and his back arched menacingly, Gilbert stumbled back with his grip on the hammer painfully tight. The dog pounced without warning, and he fell on the concrete.

He saw him hovering above his body for a second and the next he was batted out of sight. Blood drops fell across his face and he gawked at the sensation, the woman in front of him lowered the bat and he looked up. He knew who she was even before he'd seen the red flashes around her soft features.

_____________________

Anne's eyes widened as she recognized the man at her feet.

"Gilbert Blythe."

He stared at her in shock, Anne offered her hand and he took it without hesitation, she pulled him upwards and examined his face.

"Gilbert," She repeated. "Why?"

She knew the question made no sense, but it was the only thing she could think of. Why was he here?

"Anne," He breathed, a hand reached out to hold her face and she didn't stop him. "Are you real?"

That question didn't make sense either, but neither did the whole scenario. Where the hell was she and why had she just killed a dog?

Oh god, she'd killed a dog.

Her head turned back to the animal's corpse, and to her horror, although battered and with a twisted neck, the creature was still very much alive and it was crawling towards them, its fangs at full display.

Gilbert looked down as well and his expression darkened.

"You should close your eyes."

Anne obeyed without a second thought. She heard the abrupt sound of bones cracking, and the dog's feral growls until the street was silent again. When she opened her eyes Gilbert was holding a hammer covered in blood, and the dog's face had been left unrecognizable.

_____________________

They stared at each other without knowing what to do, Gilbert looked down at his bloody hands and grimaced.

"Please, don't think I'm some kind of crazy psycho..."

"I was the first to break that dog's neck," She stated. "Why would I think that?"

He laughed shortly. "...You're Anne, aren't you?"

"Yes," She admitted. "With an E. You're Gilbert?"

The man nodded.

"Why is this happening?" He asked. "Why am I dreaming about you?"

"Wasn't this my dream?"  She laughed nervously. "This is so weird, you're acting like a real person."

"I am a real person!" He exclaimed.

"Yeah, but I meant like, you're acting as if you were the real Gilbert," Anne chuckled. "Man, I have such a wild imagination..."

"Anne, this is real," He insisted. "Well, not this zombie stuff, but this... whatever this is. Every night I fall asleep and I dream about you. I thought this was all my problem but if you're aware of it as well..."

"What if this is your head messing with you?" Anne offered. "What if you're dreaming that I'm also having these weird dreams and it's all you? Because maybe I think I'm real, but perhaps that's what you want to hear so you're just making me say things—"

"You overthink a lot, don't you?" He grumbled.

"I'm just saying!" She exclaimed, lightly hitting his head with the bat. "You've said that before... I... I just can't remember when..."

Gilbert tilted his head deep in thought. "You've done that before too... although it wasn't a bat the first time..."

"What was it?"

His jaw clenched, Anne could practically see the gears in his brain working at full speed.

"I got it!" Gilbert said abruptly, eyebrows raising in realization. "It was a—"

_____________________

"...slate."

The young man groaned, lazily stretching over the couch and running a hand over his face to wake up fully.

"What... the fuck..." He mumbled hoarsely, "was that?"

_____________________

Anne bolted upright on her bed, the whole room was still dark and there was a light, cold breeze seeping through her window. She remembered every bit of her dream, and her eyes moved as if reading invisible calculations floating around her.

"It can't be," She whispered, one hand anxiously looking for her phone. "He can't... it was just a dream..."

When she finally found the device her fingers acted on their own, Anne found the diner's page and clicked on the owners' picture, staring at the youngest of the two men.

"Gilbert Blythe," She frowned. "Do I know you?"

Taglist.

@ninizkd @http-itsrebecca @fuckthisshitimoutyall @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @little-boats-on-a-lake @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @skarlygonzalez​

[miss-noo-na]

Cursed (Goblin!Minhyuk) Part 1

Title: Cursed

Featuring: Lee Minhyuk (Monsta x) X Reader

Rating: PG-13 for now

Summary: Your grandfather always warned you that the family was cursed by Dokkaebi, something you never took seriously until tragedy brought you face to face with one. Now you’re trying to reconcile what you believe to be true with what the strange and handsome creature says he is. 

Note: This was a commission requested by @def-sol​. If you would like a commission of your own, peep my profile link for more info. 

The crackling of burning wood echoed into the sky above you, the wispy orange embers fading into the stars. The shadows of the flames danced across your grandfather’s face, the man who raised you all on his own.

He was regaling you with stories, as he had done your entire life. You didn’t mind that you were too old for fairytales, you just liked the comfort that came with his voice.

“Some say they’re just mischievous, but I don’t believe that,” He said with narrowed eyes, “All the ones I know of are pure evil.”

“Goblins aren’t real, granddad.” You laughed, shaking your head. They weren’t fairytales to him, every creature he spoke of was very real, and he hated the Dokkaebi most of all. He was convinced that every ill-fated thing that had happened to your family and village as a whole were thanks to them, hiding in plain sight.

It was true there had been numerous incidences and tragedies surrounding you most of your life, and at times you were almost just as convinced it had to be something other-worldly, but logic prevented you from accepting the stories as truth.

“You laugh now, but one day they’re going to show their true faces around here, and you’ll be sorry you didn’t listen to me.”

He wagged a disapproving finger as he spoke, and you recalled all the prepping and ritual that had taken hold of his life and in turn, affected yours, too. Most of it was like habit now, second nature, and you had to admit you had grown a bit too superstition to stop, even though a voice in your head told you you were being silly.

He raised a closed fist to his mouth and coughed, and you winced at the sound his lungs produced.

“You’re still not feeling well?” You asked, and he shook his head vigorously.

“It’s just this dry weather, that’s all.”

He was in denial about his failing health. He was getting older, you could see it in the lines in his face and how his gait slowed. Now he had this awful coughing that had been going on for months, and all you could do was tsk at him and send him to bed with some tea. He was too stubborn to see a doctor, he didn’t think the trip out of your village was worth the trouble. 

You stood from your place next to the fire. “Come on inside, I’ll make you a cup.”

“I’m not done with my story!” He protested childishly.

“I’ve heard all your stories, granddad.” You smiled as you waved him inside as you began to walk toward the back door. 

You never thought that would be the last time you saw him.

He passed peacefully in his sleep, you knew something was wrong when he wasn’t up bright and early as he often was. 

After that, everything that followed happened in a foggy haze. Trudging into town to inform someone about his passing, body preparation, the funeral, the rituals, the condolences of far off family and friends nearby. You hadn’t cried and you hadn’t spoken much, it didn’t feel real. You were alone now.

Every night you sat by yourself at the fire, and repeated his stories in your head. It was natural, he was an old man, it would have to happen sometime, but you weren’t anywhere near prepared. Would you ever be? You weren’t sure. You just knew you didn’t know how to till this land and run this home on your own. You didn’t know who you were going to talk to, laugh with, take care of. You didn’t know who would dry your tears, pat your head in approval, or tell you that you could do anything you set your mind to.

Suddenly your grandfather’s stories of the Dokkaebi didn’t seem too far fetched. He hadn’t been keeping up with his rituals lately due to his health and had encouraged you to do them for him, but you brushed them off. You might set out an amulet for protection or burn some incense, but the longer, more complicated rituals seemed like a waste of your time. Until now, of course.

Everyone in your family had been taken from you, and while part of you urged you to think of this rationally, that life simply wasn’t fair, you couldn’t accept that. You couldn’t just sit and take it, let this tragedy and sadness happen to you over and over again with no reason.

You spent days gathering materials, traversing the woods in search of the right herbs and stones for what you were about to do. Sometimes you thought yourself crazy, driven by grief, other times you convinced yourself this was the best thing to do.

Driving away a Dokkaebi was complicated, and difficult to accomplish. If there was one (or many) nearby, haunting your family and bringing ill will upon your land, it could be forced to leave you and generations of your family alone if you did it right.

Once you had everything you thought you would need, everything you could remember your grandfather telling you and everything you could gather from his diaries, you picked a night to begin. 

Candles scattered about the garden, with the bonfire roaring at the center. In front of it a table was lined with fruit and incense, and you made as much noise as you could, banging metal together as you walked the corners of your property, hoping to drive the evil away.

It went on for hours, alternating meditation and prayer with your noise making. You were hot, sweat dripping from your temples, and you were exhausted, but you were propelled. Finally, as the sun barely began to peak from the horizon, you fell into hysterical tears, crying for the first time since he died.

Kneeling on the ground with your head in your hands sobbing, you didn’t hear the rustle of clothing or the small steps toward you, or how the figure lingered over you for some time before you finally picked up your head. Seeing the figure there, half cast in shadow as the morning sun had not reached the garden just yet, you gasped and fell back.

With a tear streaked face, you peered up at the figure through blurred vision. It was a man, dressed in traditional clothing with dark hair and dark eyes, and his handsome face struck you as odd and frightening given the circumstances. You might have thought he was just a villager, brought to the garden by all your commotion, but there were sparks of blue light that radiated off the edges of his frame that told you he wasn’t even human.

“I-it...it’s you.” You trembled as you spoke. He didn’t look anything like the ogre-ish creatures from your grandfather’s stories.

He crouched so he was at eye level with you and you scurried back. He half-smiled in a devious yet amused way.

“Who am I?” He asked.

“T-the Dokkaebi”

He laughed, and the way his smile lit up his face was complicating your feelings. There was something sweet about his eyes and his voice.

“I would think so, you’re the one that summoned me here.”

“What?” You asked, then shook your head. “No, I was trying to drive you away.”

“Well now, why would you do such a mean thing?” He asked with a pout.

This was too much to take in at once. You were mentally, emotionally, and physically exhausted and it was hard to form a coherent sentence, to explain the entire situation. Plus, you had just had all of your childhood fairytales proven real right before your eyes.

“You’ve been bringing destruction to my family, I want you to leave.” You sniffed, trying to sound firm, but you were meek and small underneath him, still shaking and half-crying.

He cocked his head, “You’re sure that was me?”

“Who else would it be? Are there more of you?”

“Of course there are.” He stood up once more. “But none of them are in this village. Never have been, actually.”

“That’s impossible.” You near-whispered.

He shrugged, “You don’t have to believe me, but it's the truth. Whatever ill fate has bestowed your family has nothing to do with me or my brethren.”

You felt sick to your stomach, not wanting to believe what you were hearing. How could everything your grandfather spoke of be true and false all at the same time? How could all your misfortune be random?

You pulled yourself shakily to your feet, and glared hard at the goblin.

“I want you gone by today.”

He simply grinned at you, and you turned to extinguish the flames of the candles and stoke out the fire. He simply watched, and you tried to move without fear, though deep down you were terrified of what he was capable of. 

You went inside and collapsed onto your bed, no time to clean the dirt and tears from your face or remove your clothes, thick with smoke smell. When you awoke hours later, your body ached and the sun was beating down on you from the window. You didn’t have the energy to heat up your water, so you dumped the basins you already had over your head, cold and shocking to your skin, but you felt refreshed.

Once you had changed into  clean clothing and had something to eat, you peered out of your back window into your garden, a mess from disrepair and the remnants of your ritual. As your eyes scanned the fields, your heart dropped into your stomach when you saw him.

The goblin waltzed around your cabbage patch, looking a lot more human in the daylight. He didn’t seem out of place, touching the leaves absent-mindedly as he strolled. He seemed so non-threatening, but you knew better.

You marched out of your home and down the garden path toward him, and when he saw you coming he smiled.

“Good afternoon, did you sleep well?”

“Why are you still here?” You planted your hands on your hips and glared.

“You summoned me, remember?”

“I told you to leave.”

“Oh, it doesn’t work like that.” 

You stood up straight and blinked. “What do you mean?”

“I guess you’ve never done a banishing ritual before, because you did it wrong, or maybe it was because there was nothing to banish?” He stopped a moment to think to himself  

“Nevertheless, what you did was a ritual to appeal to me, so I would come here and help you.” He explained, then looked out at your land. “Your crops are decent, but they could be better.”

“I don’t need your help.” You spat, the vitriol dripping from your tone. You refused to believe this creature, he was probably as cunning as your grandfather always told you they were.

“That’s a problem.” He said, unphased by your anger. “I can’t leave until my job is done.”

You felt tension sear through your already aching muscles, getting more and more upset as the goblin spoke. “Listen, I don’t care about what you think you have to do, all I know is that I don’t want to see you anywhere near my land, you got that?”

“Wrong again,” He almost laughed, “I actually can’t even leave the property, even if I wanted to.”

You sighed heavily and raised your fingers to rub your temples, what had you gotten yourself into?

“I really don’t understand why you’re so mad at me, especially since you’re the one that brought me here and all.” He shrugged, there was a hint of naivety to him that angered you, acting innocent when you knew what he really was.

“I’ve heard all the stories, I know all about your kind and what you’re capable of, so if you think I’m going to trust you to help me, you’re dead wrong.”

“That isn’t fair.” He said, his pout returning. “I think you’ve been misinformed about us,”

“My grandfather wouldn’t lie.” You said, voice deepening, daring the goblin to defy you.

“I wouldn’t doubt your elder,” He agreed, then pondered a moment before continuing, “But maybe he was misinformed, too? Did he actually ever meet one of us?”

Suddenly your thoughts went reeling through all his stories, scouring over the details for some kind of proof, when it dawned on you he had never claimed to have seen them in person. All his stories were second-hand, passed down from ancestors, and only strange coincidences had ever happened in his own life. You felt weak suddenly, questioning everything you knew about your grandfather and your family as a whole. Maybe they were just stories? Rumors and blame for life’s very normal tragedies. 

You didn’t have an answer or an argument for him, so you locked eyes for a brief moment, curiosity and a hint of concern on his face, before you turned and walked back to the house without another word.

You fell back into bed and the tears came like a flood, free-flowing and constant. Your grief now mixed with regret and betrayal. It was silly to blame the old man, he had his convictions, but so much of your life had been put into this thing that wasn’t even true. Now you were stuck with a monster of your own making, plus a very real supernatural creature frolicking through your garden. You were lost. You pulled the blankets up over yourself and cried yourself to sleep.

To Be Continued.

[dornish-queen]

Stories of the Melancholy is a compilation of shorts dealing with themes of depression and suicide ideation.  These stories are not intended for all audiences.  Rating: Mature only 21+ and at readers discretion. 

If you are in crisis, there is help.  Suicide Prevention Lifeline. Lifeline CHAT

Trigger Warnings: suicide attempt aftermath, blood, hospitals, mental care facilities, suicide ideation, implied suicide attempt, depression, mental illness, self-harm, bad coping skills, mention of gun, knives, doctors, penis in vagina sex, cock warming, drugs,

By clicking onto the read more, you are consenting to being exposed to content that may be triggering.  If you are sensitive to topics of depression and suicide, I strongly advise you NOT TO READ.

You sat upright on the bed, the gritty taste of the charcoal still in the back of your throat, as the doctor worked on you. Your wrist stung for a moment as he squirted something from a syringe onto your wound, and then the sting was gone. How does one feel in a moment like this, it was completely new to you, but nothing to be proud of. In fact, you felt like a complete failure in every sense, as you looked at the gaping wound on your wrist, it looked like an unzipped purse. This was the stupidest thing you have ever done, so that was what you told yourself, as the first suture went in.

“I’m sorry,” You whispered to the doctor. But all he did was sigh and grunt at you as he continued to stitch your wrist back up. The look on the doctor’s face was of disgust. Like he has better things to do than to patch up a nutcase like you. You know, most of the people that come into the ER actually want to live. The doctor didn’t say that, but you were sure he was thinking that.

You closed your eyes and tried to think of something else, but all you can picture is the knife swiping across your wrist and your flesh peeling open. Curious there was no gush of blood like you had expected, but just an instant leaking onto the countertop. Oh, it’s getting really red, and I’m making a fucking mess of things. I really made a fucking mess of things now. Shit! Well that was a bad idea. The thought was as simple as that. There were no dramatic tears, just a simple feeling that you have really fucked up things now.

You stupid idiot! You can’t even kill yourself right. You fucking cut the wrong way. Well these thoughts aren’t helping me, so shut the fuck up.

After you had filled out all the hospital papers the nurse handed to you, you started to put your clothes back on and asked the nurse if it was alright to go home.

“Oh no, we can’t let you go, dear,” She had a motherly tone to her voice. You looked at the clock on the wall. 1:15 AM.

“What do you mean I can’t go home?” You asked completely perplexed.

“We’re going to have someone take you somewhere to make sure you don’t hurt yourself.” She said kindly.

You fucking idiot! This is what you get! You didn’t think this through, did you?

By the time you arrived at Assisted Outpatient Treatment, it was already 3AM. Your mind had quieted considerably and the gravity of the situation really started to sink in. You jumped slightly as the door closed and you heard the lock click. You were pleasantly surprised to see that you had a room with a cot. Nothing too fancy, but it was clean.

Everything seemed to pass by in a blink and you felt numb. Numb to your surroundings and numb to the circumstances as to why you were there.

Just act normal. You kept saying that over and over in your head and you’ll be able to go home.

When it came time for your evaluation, you gave the best performance of your life. You’re not a danger to yourself! Of course not. You watched as the doctor looked at you closely and squibbed something in his clipboard.

“Okay, dear. I don’t see any reason why we should keep you here longer.” He said. You breathed a sigh of relief as security gave you your personal belongings. You called for a Lyft to pick you up to take you home. Finally, I can just go back to my bed, sleep and put all this behind me.

“You look ready” the Doctor said. You gave him a slight nod. “We don’t want to see you back here a third time, okay?”

He smiled at you before walking away and into his office.

A third time? You thought to yourself. What the fuck is he talking about? You’ve never been here before! Or have you? Your ride came and you got in. Mind distracted and numb. A third time. Was this my second time here? Your stomach sank and felt something knot up in your chest. Looking at the driver, you see your eyes in his rear-view mirror. You look like shit, like a soulless creature. Why aren’t you crying? I should be crying, you would think? But there is nothing.

You turned the key and walked in through your front door. No one home. You walk by the kitchen counter, completely ignoring the bloody mess you made the previous night. You see the red ring all dry, with the kitchen knife right next to it. My god! Is that what I used? Your eyes felt heavy and all you want to do is crawl away into the covers. Just sleep. If you wake fine, I guess so. If you don’t…even better. What the fuck kind of thoughts are these? Just go to sleep and it was all be better.

Your thoughts are a blank and all you can do is stare at the curtains. The sheets feel so cool against your body. The sound of the door clicks and you hear him come in. He’s home now and you’ll have some explaining to do. Your failure hits home and you sink inwards. You barely feel his arms wrap around your waist; his face nuzzles against the back of your neck. His kisses tingle down your neck as he moves to roll you over to face him. His face so serene as he traces his eyes along your body finally coming to stop at the bandage wrapping your wrist. His face drops into the most beautiful sadness you have ever seen. You close your eyes, not wanting to look at the disappointment. Because you know it in your gut it’s there. You feel yourself being scooped up and enveloped into his chest. He doesn’t make a noise. Only rocks you in his arms. Are those my tears or his?

"Again baby?” his husky voice barely audible against your ear.

You felt yourself crack and finally was able to let go.

The mornings are when it hits you the hardest. Your eyes open and the realization sets in that you have to endure another long day. Eyes screwed shut again as you feel that sinking stab in your heart, ever present.

The morning cool air prickling against your skin, as you roll onto your side. When did you change into your sleep shirt? You think to yourself. And then you remember. Stroking down the length of your arm and you feel it on your left wrist, the bandage still there now throbbing pain radiating toward your palm.

Images flood your mind from the night before when you were put in psychiatric hold. There is a shame at being put in a place like that, but there was also a comfort with being around individuals that understood you. Being understood, when you don’t even understand.

Tears form little lakes in your eyes. And it won’t stop now. The pull of sleep beckons you and you welcome it, just to ease the moment. To sleep. Not dream. Not feel. To wake up and live again. Or better yet, to not and just be at peace.

An arm wraps around your waist and pulls you into his chest.

-When did you get here, my Love? -

You thought to yourself as you breathed into his chest, feeling his heart beat against your ear. He had been with you the whole night, just to be here when you would wake. How could you feel so dead inside while he felt so alive pressed against you?

His eyes search your face and you know what he’s looking for. That spark that’s never present on days like this.

You feel his lips hot against your neck, but oh so gentle. The strands of his hair felt soft as you weaved your fingers through them. His lips touched yours oh so gently.

“Come back to me, baby.” He breathed into your kiss deeply and then you feel it. The need that pierces your chest. It’s the pain that lets you know that your soul is healing.

You reach down and feel him alive and pulsing against your thigh, but he doesn’t move. He holds you against him, his hands caressing your face. So beautiful to him. He helps you out of the remainder of your clothing. But you no longer feel the need for it. Feel the need to cover your shame. Not with him here.

You feel his weight on top of you, but unlike the weight of the world, you feel safe. He covers your body with his like a shield, as you trace your hands down his back, rounding toward him throbbing at your entrance, waiting patiently.

His hands cradled your head as his lips moved across your neck, that morning stubble that you love so much, hits a spot beneath your ear that makes you moan.

“Take me home.” You whisper into his ear. A pause and he searches your face, your eyes connecting. Your hands line him up to your opening, legs hitch up higher in acceptance. “I want to come home."

Instantly, his mouth covers yours, tongues dancing against each other deeply, as you feel of his body surge forward. The familiar pinch of him burying himself into your sacred place. He stills when he is fully inside you. A feeling of relief washes over you. A momentary respite. But for now, you are one with him and you feel complete.

Clinging onto him tightly, you feel the small rotation of his hip against yours, oh so slowly pressing into your core.

Your feelings begin to stir at the rhythm of his hips. The pain in your heart dissipating with each little movement of him against you.

-Come back to me, baby. -

His voice repeats over and over in your head. Like a soothing voice you heard when you were lost as a child.

He pulls out and thrusts back into you deep and firm. “Come Back.”

Again, and again.

“Come back.” Your eyes flutter open, meeting with his and he sees it. Your spark had ignited ever so slightly. You felt the flurry of his kisses all over your face and neck. His paper-thin smile hiding that small tremble in his lip.

Your hands reach for both sides of his face, fingers making its way through his hair.

“I’m here.” Your voice barely audible, muted by his moans as he plunges deep into you again and again.

You attempt to raise yourself and he helps to pull you upright against his chest. Arms roaming all over your back as you wrap yours around his neck. His face buried between your breasts, as he continued to drive upward into you.

“Oh my God.” You began to moan loudly, his grunts echoing yours like a harmony of the most beautiful sexual song.

Finally, you begin to move with him. Falling onto every inch of his being as he pierces the heart of you.

You are one.

You feel alive again as you move faster and faster into each other. You feel the pinch of his lips on your nipple and your core bursts and feel it radiate up your spine. He feels your orgasm wash over him, and begins thrusting faster until you feel him spill into you, filling you, making you complete.

Time stills and there is just this moment.

********

You feel yourself being lifted and slowly submerged in the warmest lavender scented water, gentle hands gliding over your body. He is there with you as you lean against him as he washes your hair. You feel your energy level start to come back to you and try to bathe yourself.

“Let me take care of you, Sweetheart.” He kisses your neck and continues to wash you.

A wave of emotion hits you, “I don’t want to be like this.”

“Shhhhh.” He always knows when you’re about to break down. “It won’t be like this forever.”

You allow yourself to believe his words. Look towards to a future with a little bit of hope. He’s offering that light to you, and you take it, if only for a moment.

“Do you think you’ll be able to eat a little bit for me, if I make you something?” His voice soft as he lifts you out of the tub and begins to dry you. You nod your head, leaning against him, a towel wrapping around you.

“I can do that.”

You had been feeling better for a few weeks now and feel the worst had subsided, when it hits you like a ton of bricks. It had only been a careless comment from a defensive person directed at you, but that’s all it took. God, you are so fucking weak! You think to yourself. You feel a sense of anger at not being understood, yet begin to wonder if it really is YOU that’s the problem.

Take yourself out of this situation. That’s the best bet. Go for a drive, calm your fucking nerves for a bit. Walk through a bookstore, that usually does the trick. Two hours later and you still feel like you’re about to break, only now you’re in the middle of a bookstore and everyone will see how crazy you really are. Walk through the Self-Help section, browse through at least ten books about depression and suicide. You’re sure there’s at least one book, that might be helpful and put your mind at ease, if only for a little while. Get embarrassed when an employee comes up to you and asks if you are finding what you’re looking for. Oh, and you have a book called “Why People Kill Themselves” in your hand. At the same time, you say to her, “No, I’m doing fine. Thank you for asking.” In your most pleasant voice possible at the moment. God, you feel stupid.

You leave the bookstore without buying anything. That was a waste of time. You think to yourself as you sit in your car, about to drive off. A drive to the beach sounds nice and a walk to the end of the pier. The sound of the ocean sounds nice about now, perhaps that’s the place you want to be. It was only a moment’s thought. A fleeting thought, that’s all it is. That’s what you tell yourself. You don’t act on it and decide to drive home.

The lock clicks and you step through your door. Instantly, you feel his hands on each side of your arms turning you to face him.

“Where did you go? I was worried sick!” He bent over to look into your face and you saw it. That momentary flash of anger, and you look down at your feet.

That sinking feeling digs deep into your chest and you feel yourself beginning to crumble as he pulls you into him.

“I promised I wouldn’t do anything. I promised…I promised.” Your voice muffled against his shirt.

“I know, but babe, you can’t just leave like that.” He breathed heavily; his lips pressed against your head. “Thank you for coming home.”

You felt his arms wrapped around you tight, as your tears began to soak the front of his shirt. All you can think of at the moment is how you’re messing up his nice shirt. How you are always messing up something. The grief takes a firm hold of you and it’s all consuming and exhausting. And all he can do is hold you and rub your back. His touch, reminding you that someone is here and that you’re not alone. Willing you to come back to him.

These moments are draining for the both of you and you begin to wonder how much is too much. How much of this can he handle before he’s had enough and leaves? You look up into his face and see that the anger is gone, and you begin to cry all over again.

I’m sorry. You want to say, but he seems to already know what you’re thinking.

“There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re going to be okay.”

Today was a particularly bad day. Although it started out fine, things just started to curve to the left. If things were to go as planned, my therapy session would have started promptly at 8:00.

8:05. No call. That’s okay. The therapist is usually a little late.

8:10. She’s probably just finishing up with another client. Am I a client or a patient?

8:15. Let me message her. We must be having phone issues or something. That has to be it.

8:30. I message her and let her know that I’m sorry. Today just might not be a good day to talk. But Hey! Maybe next week will work out better.

My message sounded more upbeat than I felt and I don’t know why I felt the need to apologize. But I did. I always apologize.

Today doesn’t have to be a bust, I tell myself. Nevertheless, it slowly turns. My brain starts to feel tired and agitated about the littlest, insignificant things. And then the little things I do to cheer me up don’t work. Pictures that normally make me smile don’t. Things that are coming up that, normally, I am excited about…I don’t care if I ever experience them. That’s where I’m at right now. It’s despair with a teaspoon of anger. Anger with people and anger at myself because my thoughts and reasoning make no sense to me.

It’s the thoughts of the gun the soothes the mind. Or swimming out into the ocean as far as I can and not come back. That’s the thought that calms and brings peace.

I hear my therapist’s voice in my head telling me that these thoughts never really go away, but understand that I think that it’s a reality, but it’s not.

And so, I sit here and try to be kind to myself for having these thoughts…

You drop the pen on the coffee table and see him glance away quickly. You close the journal and put on your best smile before going over to see what he’s up to in the kitchen. You wrap your arms around his waist and lean against his back as you breathe in what he’s cooking.

“Smells great. I had no idea I was living with Gordon Ramsey.” You uttered.

He normally doesn’t cook, but he’s got to be quite good at it lately with all the meals he has been making for you.

“Angel Hair pasta with meatballs.” He said excitedly as he lifted the lid off the pan to show you.

“That doesn’t look too bad at all!”

“I made the balls extra big,” he said mischievously, with that adorable crooked smile. “Just the way you like it.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. What a devil he is. What a boyish, adorable devil!

As you set the table, you heard the unmistakable pop of a wine bottle.

“Oh babe! I get to have wine?” you asked surprised. It had been a while since you drank. That night in fact.

“I thought a little bit would be okay, since I’m here.” He smiled at you. “And you promised that you would eat.”

You notice that he doesn’t fill your glass as high as his, but that’s to be expected, you told yourself.

He fixes your plate with the perfect swirl of pasta. That tang of the marinara agreed with your stomach today. You didn’t feel nauseous at making yourself eat. Not like you normally do.

Maybe because you never felt judged when you’re with him. He never frowned at you for not having the will to eat. Only encouraged you to try, if only it was just a little bit. And you know he won’t be disappointed if you don’t finish that whole plate of pasta, he just gave you.

All through dinner, you see him glancing over at your journal. You have this agreement, that you would let him have access to read it. You promised that what you wrote would be truthful, but he was still supposed to ask first.

He hasn’t asked yet and you start to wonder why. Your mind starts to wander. Thinking too much again. Maybe this is too much for him? You’ve become too much of a burden. Best to cut him loose. Don’t make someone else suffer because YOU have issues.

You felt his hand reach across the table to grasp yours tenderly. You didn’t realize you had stopped eating and your other hand was wiping tears from the side of your face.

“Hey…” his voice so soft, still holding your hand.

You look up and see his beautiful smile and the crinkly eyes you love so much. Not a shroud of anger or disappointment.

“Is it okay if I read this now?” he says as he glances over to your journal. “Can I stay in the room with you while I read?”

You nod your head. That’s all you’re capable of doing at the moment.

He brings you over to the sofa and you curl up next to him. You feel his arm around you as you lean your head against his shoulder. You bring your knees up to your chest as you wound yourself up tight like a ball. The flipping noise of the pages seem so loud to your ears and all you can think of are your words. Where do they come from? If all of this is coming from your brain, then why does your heart hurt so much? The fact that this doesn’t make sense to you, makes you more upset.

A new set of fresh tears stream down your face and you let out a grieved moan. You didn’t know that he had finished reading until you feel both his arms wrap around you.

You feel his fingers moving your tear drenched hair away from your face. His lips kissing you gently, not letting you go. He doesn’t ask you questions about what you wrote. He doesn’t tell you how to feel. He gives you your moment to feel what you need to feel.

His silence speaks volumes.

You take more than the recommended dose this time. Just enough to stay in bed, the body only requires so much sleep, but you know you can’t hurt yourself when you are asleep and in bed. Yes, not the best way to cope, but it will do for now. Stop the world and everything around you, without leaving the world.

It was foolish to open up to people. They don’t need to know. They don’t need to know your past. They don’t need to know you. They don’t want to know. Their minds are made up.

She’s manipulating people….She doesn’t mean it….She’s not sick….She’s not suicidal….She just wants attention….She won’t really do it.

You wish all of this were true. You want to be that liar. You feel yourself sliding and hope the drugs kick in faster. The voices that are determined to hurt you won’t stop.

Reaching over to the side of the bed, you imagine him here with you now. But his side of the bed is cold. Empty to the touch. You decide to sleep on his side and cradle his pillow against your chest. That’s as close as you’ll get for now. You close your eyes. You’re sinking now.

You had been feeling so much better until recently, and you reassured him that you would be fine and that you are doing better. The last thing you wanted him to do was to stay and look out after you. He has a life too. He has his work. Don’t ruin it for him. You remember kissing him good-bye and him smiling back to you.

“It won’t be long.” He breathed into your ear as he kissed you gently and held you tight. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

You remember giving him your best performance smile you could muster as you waved good-bye. And that last thing you see is that cute, boyish smile with the crinkled eyes. Keep that image and hold on to that. If that’s the last thing you remember of him, you would be okay with that. NO. Don’t think that. Tomorrow is going to be so much better than today. Think about that!

You know that if he was here, he would pull you into his chest. You’d feel his arms around you and he would say the right things, or nothing at all. Because sometime saying nothing, helps the most.

Your cellphone starts blasting you with notifications. He had asked for friends to check up. That’s probably it. You look at your phone.

- Hey Sweetie. Just wanted to see how you are doing?

- I’m fine, honey! Thank you for checking up on me :)

You’ve grown used to lying. It’s better and puts people at ease. Because they really don’t need to know. You don’t need to cause any worry for nothing.

One more ping on my phone.

I love you. – P

That’s all he says. That’s all he ever says. And it is enough. It’s enough to make you try harder. It’s enough to make you want to stick around, if only a little bit longer. He is a world away from you, but still manages to pull you back. You’ve lingered enough in your “cloud”. The cloud is not your safe place. He is.

Ping.

Another notification on your phone. It’s him again.

- Hi Babe! Love you back. I’m doing fine.

You were going to text him “see you soon”. But you didn’t.

The intrusive voice is back to pester you.

She’s just trying to manipulate people.

I can’t wait for tomorrow. Everything will be good and you’ll feel so much better. You repeat this to yourself. And one day it will be.

These fucking pills aren’t working fast enough. Fuck it and just take another.

“What happened while I was gone?” His fingers caressing down the side of your body, your fingers mirroring his actions.

You lay with each other side by side, facing each other. You enjoy moments like this where it’s quiet and your both completely naked with each other, but there’s no expectations for anything. You both just live in the moment with each other. Two souls bare in every way. Sometimes you have deep conversations and just fall asleep like this. Other times, all you do is mirror each other’s touch. Sometimes there is sex, sometimes not, but there is always intimacy and openness.

“What happened while I was gone? He repeats and you hesitate just long enough for him to break contact with you. You feel his fingers tuck a stray hair behind your ear as he looks into your eyes. He can tell you haven’t been eating properly, his eyes keep moving toward your hip bones, more pronounced.

“I took some pills.”

“And…” He knows. He always knows.

“I went online to look for a gun.”

He takes your hand that was caressing his hip and brought it up to his lip, his facial hair tickled the top of your hand. You see him close his eyes tight and felt his breath grow heavy.

“What did you do?” He said quietly, still holding your hand to his lips.

“I didn’t buy it. I only looked.” Finally, he was looking at you, his eyes creased. “I had a bad night and I thought it would help.”

“And did it? Help?” He seemed to move his body closer to you.

“No…I just felt stupid afterwards…and…” You break contact with his eyes and take your hand away from him and begin stroking his shoulders, as though you are searching for something, anything familiar.

“and what?” He presses gently, feeling your tension build.

“…broken. I feel broken.” You don’t realize that he’s stroking your hips in the same way you are caressing his shoulder.

“And the pills? How many?”

“Not a lot. Just enough to make me sleep.” You saw the crease in his eyes again, like he doesn’t believe you. And you feel yourself beginning to panic. “I was afraid of myself, that’s all. I just wanted to sleep and hope the next day would be better.”

“Why didn’t you call me? We talked about this.” He was challenging your thoughts. But not in a way that made you feel threatened.

“I know. I wanted to do it on my own. Manage on my own. I didn’t want to bother you.” You close your eyes, and let your hands roam across his body and he lets you.

“I want you to bother me. I NEED you to bother me when you feel like this.”

Your hands continue to roam, coming to a stop automatically at his length. You feel his soft curls twirl between your fingers. The touch of him calms your sniffles and then you feel him twitch in your hand.

“I’m sorry.” You pulled back with an embarrassed giggle. But he just pulls you in suddenly, his arms completely around you, holding you tight. Your head buried against his chest.

“What do you have to be sorry about, babe?” he sounded so amused. “You have that affect on me. I’m not sorry about that.”

You realize how pointless it is to feel even remotely embarrassed. You are naked after all and begin to laugh with him. Two naked fools just holding each other and laughing.

You scoot up to meet his lips with yours. You shower him with a fleury of small kisses, ending with a deep slow kiss. He explores your mouth with his slowly. You feel him growing harder, wedged between your legs. You feel his palm on you, his fingers circling your entrance, as his tongue intertwines with yours.

“You have that affect on me too.” You pause for a moment to catch your breath, eyes connecting.

Then all of a sudden, you both burst into a fit of giggles.

“Why are we laughing?” You try to say as you attempt to hold in a giggle with no success.

“I don’t know!” He giggled into your ear. “You started it!”

“You’re still hard!” You laughed louder, as you stroke him.

“I know! It’s your fault!” He laughs as he pulls you on top of him, making nibbling sounds against your neck.

“Do you want me to keep you warm tonight, Love?” You breathe and nuzzle into his ear, finally calming down after a moment.

He nods and begin to spoon, his chest presses against your back. He slides in smoothly from behind you as you feel his hands cup your breast. Are you warming him? Or is he keeping you warm and safe? Perhaps a little of both.

You feel the calm pull of sleep when you hear him whisper into your ear. “Promise me.”

It had only taken you minutes to drive to the beach. You parked your car and made your way toward the pier. The sound of the waves growing louder the closer you got. You had thought of this in detail for so long, it’s as calming as you imagined it to be. As you walk down the pier, you see families getting ready to go home after a day of play, couples enjoying a stroll together. You reach the end of the pier and lean forward against the wood railing, the gentle sloshing of the water below you is so soothing. Closing your eyes, you just listen and smile. The sun is low and the sky around it is painted in swirls of deep warm orange. You feel nothing but peace here and you gaze out and watch the sun drop lower and lower. Your last sunset and there is no pain. Only the sense of relief fills every part of your being. Peace.

As the sun touches the horizon, you see that everyone had almost left for the day, only a few remain like you to watch the sunset. You smile at faces of these wonderful people. They look so content. You know you have to wait until everyone leaves before you do it. Until then, you just enjoy the peacefulness of your surroundings.

You feel your cellphone buzzing in your pocket. It momentarily interrupts your thoughts and a small ping in your chest. Push it away and just watch the sunset. The sun is almost gone.

The phone is going off again. This time you answer it. His is the voice that sings to your soul. You tell him where you are and how fantastic the sky looks and how the sun is almost down.

“I love you. Please come home.”

“But it’s nice here. I like it here.” You continue to gaze at the horizon. The sun is gone.

“I know baby. Just start walking back. I’ll stay on the phone with you.”

A wave of cold washes over you and you feel the tightness in your chest and the pull. The tears pool in your eyes and start to distort your vision.

“Baby?” you say, barely holding it together.

“I’m here. I’m not hanging up. Just follow my voice.”

Your feet begin to take you back to the front of the pier and back to your car. His voice leading the way back to you. You sit down in the front seat of your car with your forehead resting on the steering wheel. The gravity of the situation hitting you.

You manage to drive home safely and begin to put the key into the front door as the door open with whirring force. You feel his arms around you immediately. His embrace is tight and he breathes heavily, trembling, his face pressed to your head.

Quickly, he pulls you inside and grabs your purse and rummages through it.

“Where is it?” He says frantically, dumping the contents onto the floor. “Your gun! Where is it!”

“I don’t have it!” You grab his hand away from your stuff and try to collect them all in your bag. “I told you I didn’t get it!”

“Then why did you go there, ALONE!” He shouts out of frustration. You hear the agony in his voice, in the way he’s looking at you and you know this is all your fault. Everything is your fault.

“I don’t know!” you cried.

Your chest tightens and everything feels so heavy. Your falling and there’s nothing left you can do except to let it happen. It’s no use. What’s the point anymore? You feel yourself being lifted before collapsing completely on the floor. And then you are on your bed, curling into your pillow.

“I can’t do this anymore…. I want it to stop…” as you continue to sob. You feel his hand comforting you, always. Holding your back close against him. He’s got you. But you feel the guilt build. And it hurts you more. “You need to let me go. I just want to go. It will be better. Everything will be better.”

Moments like this are unbearable. And you wonder how much longer can you continue doing this. To yourself and to him. This is not living when every moment you feel yourself dying inside.

“I want you to let me take you somewhere.” His body begins to tremble behind you as you feel his tears hit the side of your neck. “I don’t want to see you suffering anymore.”

“I don’t want to go to the hospital.” You say as you feel your body tighten up some more.

“It’s not like that, baby.” He soothes your head with his hand. “There will be people there that know what you are going through and they’ll be able to stabilize you. And they can help me, help you better. Just think of it like urgent care. Okay, baby. Urgent care for your beautiful brain.”

You turn to face him on the bed, your face a wet mess. But all you see is him smiling at you, his eyes red, but still beautiful.

“But people will look at me funny.”

“Well, they’ll have to say I look funny too.” He says reassuringly, wiping the tears from your face.

“But you don’t look funny. You’re pretty handsome.” You said quietly, a half giggle in between sobs.

He chuckles quietly as he kisses you tenderly on the lips. “Are you ready to go?”

You hold on to him tight, feeling his shoulder against your face and you silently nod.

[godseen]

tw :  death  by  fire   characters  featured :  eddie  ,  nat  ,  ash  . 

it  began  just  like  any  other  day .

with  only  a  couple  hours  of  sleep  (  thanks  to  insomnia  and  his  choice  of hyperfixation  for  the  week  )   ,  reggie  jr  was  tired  and  lethargic  as  he  got  up  at  dawn  .   languid  with  his  movements  as  he  got  dressed  ,  a  loud  yawn  escaped  his  lips  that  was  quickly  followed  by  a  quick  groan  at  the  annoying  tick  and  tock  of  the wall  clock  amidst  the  quiet  of  the  morning  .   tick … tock … tick …  tock  …  tick …  tock …  and  reggie  would  have  taken  its  batteries  out  there  and  then  if  he  wasn’t  suddenly  distracted  by  the  very  faint  smell  of  iron  and  burnt  meat  in  the  air  .  but  in  the  end  ,  reggie  shrugged  it  off  as  some  weird  morning  hallucination  as  his  senses  awoken  with  him  .   he  had  other  things  to  worry  about  .  it  was  5:15 AM .   and  he  was  already  running  late  .

reggie  stood  there  for  a  moment  , (  breathe  in  ,  breathe  out  )  channeling  all  the  energy  he  could  muster  to  face  the  rest  of  his  day  .  then ,  a  whirlwind  of  motions  —   he  let  his  dog  out  to  the  backyard  for  a  quick  poo ,  brushed  his  teeth  ,  took  his  vitamins  ,  and  prayed  to  his  god  for  a  great  day  for  everyone  in  town  .   it  was  5:49 AM  when  he  was  finally  prepared  ,  everything  was  muscle  memory  with  his  routine  at  this  point  .  

the  first  signs  of  sunlight  kissed  his  skin  when  he  stepped  outside ,   a  comfort  as  the  cold  morning  breeze  hit  his  pale  cheeks  ,  but  reggie  didn’t  have  the  time  to  bask  in  its  warmth  —  eleven  minutes  before  the  first  delivery  ,  less  than  an  hour  and  a  half  before  opening  time  .  the  walk  to  the  diner  was  brisk  ,  with  a  few  minutes  to  spare  before  fernando  ,  their  regular  shipment  driver ,   would  deliver  the  produce  that  they  couldn’t  get  from  hidden  hill  farm  .  it  was  5:59 AM ,  and  reggie  was  waiting  behind  the  diner  for  the  shipment  while  he  fed  a  family  of  stray  calico  cats  .    

he  made  a  mental  note  to  ask  fernando  about  how  his  date  went  ,  remembering  how  excited  the  other  man  seemed  to  be  about  it  the  last  time  they  talked  .  reggie  always  made  a  point  to  make  conversation  with  everyone  he’d  come  across  ,   such  a  social  creature  with  charm  and  the  gusto  for  bringing  people  together   .   it  was  6:20 AM  ,  twenty  minutes  after  fernando  was  supposed  to  arrive  and  reggie  felt  uneasy  as  it  was  the  first  time  the  other  had  ever  been  this  late  after  all  these  years  without  any  notice  .   the  strange  scent  made  its  presence  known  again  ,  stronger  this  time  but  reggie  still  couldn’t  pinpoint  what  it  was  and  where  it  was  coming  from  .  

beginning  to  be  perturbed  by  the  smell  ,  reggie  went  back  inside  the  diner  ,  glad  to  see  ruby  ( auntie  ruby ,  he’d  call  her  —  a  good  friend  of  his  dad’s  and  a  line  cook  for  the  diner  since  he  was  little  )  was  already  there  .  he  greeted  her  and  asked  how  her  weekend  was  ,  only  to  be  ignored  .  he  didn’t  take  it  personally  ,  albeit  a  little  disheartening  ,  since  he  figured  she  just  woke  up  on  the  wrong  side  of  the  bed  .   they  spent  their  opening  preparations  in  awkward  silence  and  reggie  wondered  whether  something  was  wrong  ,  but  he  didn’t  want  to  prod  so  early  in  the  morning  .   he  was  thankful  when  the  clock  struck  7:00 AM ,  finally  time  to  open  the  diner  and  serve  great  food  to  darkwood  residents  ,  and  their  praises  and  conversations  were  his  own  food  for  the  soul  .

but  it  was  unusually  quiet  ,   the  silence  almost  too  overwhelming  that  reggie  couldn’t  help  but  tap  and  knock  on  the  counter  endlessly  to  drown  out  white  noise  —  their  morning  regulars  seemed  to  have  disappeared  from  the  face  of  the  earth  .  and  those  that  came  were  disinterested  in  his  chit  chat  ,  simply  took  their  coffee  and  meal ,  leaving  without  a  word  .  he  smiled  at  every  customer  ,   greetings  highlighted  with  pep  ,  disheartened  at  every  time  he  was  disregarded    —   again  and  again  and  again  and  again  and  again  ,  like  an  endless  repetition  that  left  him  deeply  disturbed  .   there  was  something  alien  about  what  was  happening  …  something  so  eerie  ,  especially  when  the  old  jukebox  unexpectedly  began  to  play  on  its  own  to  break  the  silence   —  and  reggie  wished  it  hadn’t  .  

 i  know  you  belong  to  somebody  new  but  tonight  you  belong  to  me  although we're apart you're a part of my heart but tonight you belong to me  —  the  song  began  to  play  faster  and  faster  with  every  syllable ,  and  while  it  had  malfunction  before ,  it  had never  just  played  on  its  own  accord  — waitdownbythestreethowsweetitwillseemoncemorejusttodreaminthemoonlightmyhoneyiknowwiththedawnthatyouwillbego                             and  the  song  continued  to  speed  up   until  it  just  sounded  like  a  loud  high-pitched  ringing   ,    forcing  him  to  cover  his  ears  as  he  ran  towards  the  jukebox  so  he  could  unplug  it  .  and  then  ,  back  to  complete  silence .  

it  was  only  9:15 AM  when  reggie  took  his  first  break  ,   so  deeply  disturbed  that  he  had  to  step  outside  for  fresh  air  .   he  texted  nat  ,  offered  free  strawberry  milkshakes  and  curly  fries  just  for  her  to  stop  by  and  make  him  feel  less  like  a  lunatic  over  what  was  happening  .  but  she  left  him  on  read  ,  which  didn’t  happen  often ,  or  at  all  if  she  could  help  it  .   he  began  to  pace  outside  ,  which  would  have  looked  really  strange  if  there  was  anyone  watching   —  but  the  town  was  almost  deserted  ,  like  he  had  been  left  behind  by  everyone  that  ever  mattered  to  him  (  a  list  that  consisted  almost  of  the  entire  town  )  .   it  was  a  sick  joke  ,  it  had  to  be  .   he  texted  ash  ,  no  detail  spared   —  it  was  a  nice  bait  ,   ash  would  probably  laugh  at  him  for  thinking  everyone  had  suddenly  conspired  against  him  but  he  needed  to  talk  to  someone  .  anyone .  

if  ash  was  stupid  about  her  pride  and  their  whole  rivalry  ,  then  reggie  was  stupid  about  ash  .  he  never  wanted  to  be  in  competition  with  her  ,  would  very  much  rather  have  a  bond  based  on  mutual  interests  and  fondness  for  each  other   —   and  yet  ,  for  years  and  years  ,  reggie  went  along  with  it  in  hopes  that  it  would  make  her  feel  more  involved .  and  he’d  be  lying  if  he  said  he  didn’t  enjoy  seeing  her  show  the  smallest  semblance  of   happiness  whenever  she’d  beat  him  in  their  most  trivial  feuds  .   he  enjoyed  his  time  with  her  ,    so  ,  he  hoped  for  a  reply  .  no  ,  he prayed  for  it  .  he  could  already  imagine  ash’s  smug  smile  when  they’d  talk  about  this  in  person  and  how  it  would  make  his  day  just  to  see  it .  

but  minutes  passed  and  still  nothing  .  he  tried  to  call  his  dad  ,  mom  ,  siblings  ,   eddie  ,  pari  ,  his  neighbors  and  even  the  police  —   all  nothing  .    reggie  felt  ill  ,   almost  lost  his  balance  at  the  thought  of  being  alone  in  a  world  without  everyone  he  cared  for   .  he  had  always  been  able  to  hold  onto  hope  ,  but  not  when  all  signs  lead  to  everything  he  feared  for  .  he  ran  back  inside  the  diner  and  auntie  ruby  was  gone  .   it  was  the  terror  of  patterns  and  schedule  thrown  awry  ,  the  banality  he  was  so  used  to  suddenly  replaced  with  dread  growing  exponentially  in  the  pit  of  his  stomach  .  what  was  his  life  if  not  to  care  for  people  ?  what  was  his  life  if  not  trying  to  make  their  sleepy  little  town  a  better  place  ?  his  life  meant  nothing  if  he  was  alone  ,  and  god  ,  he  couldn’t  stand  it  .  

he  raced  outside  ,   barging  into  every  store  ,  knocking  on  every  door  ,  desperate  for  any  signs  of  life  .  he  went  to  his  family’s  home  —   completely  empty  of  life  ,  his  parents  and  siblings  gone  as  if  they  were  never  there  in  the  first  place  .  people  were  not  just  supposed  to  vanish  into  thin  air  .  he  wondered  if  this  was  the  rapture  ,   if  he  had  been  left  behind  because  he  wasn’t  good  enough  .   it  was  a  painful  thought  ,  his  dedication  to  everyone  else  meaning  nothing  .  he  ran  and  ran  and  ran  and  ran  until  he  couldn’t  breathe  ,  collapsing  onto  the  ground   (   breathe  in  ,  breathe  out  )  as  he  became  painfully  aware  of  the  lack  of  air  in  his  lungs  .   his  throat  was  agonizingly  dry   ,   tears  welling  up  in  his  eyes  as  he  realized  that  this  had  to  be  a  nightmare  .  if  not  ,  then  it  must  be  hell  .  

he  closed  his  eyes   and  sent  up  a  simple  ,  desperate  plea  to  god  ,   ❛   please  ,   wake  me  up  .  ❜   but  the  prayer  went  unanswered  .   and  once  again  ,   the  smell  came  back   —  so  strong  ,  so  pungent  that  he  could  almost  taste  it  ,  that  he  felt  like  throwing  up  .  he  was  scared  to  open  his  eyes  ,  but  he  was  betrayed  by  his  own  body  .  in  front  of  him  was  eddie  ,  standing  tall  and  proud  (  of  what ?  he  wished  he  would  never  find  out  )  as  that  sinister  smile  on  his  lips  taunted  him  .  

 ❛  you  were  wrong  ,  reggie .  about  me  .  about  everything  .  ❜ 

 the  conviction  in  eddie’s  voice  left  his  powerless  ,  his  faith  in  eddie  finally  deteriorating  with  the  evidence  laid  behind  him   —   a  pile  of  ablazed  corpses  ,  his  loved  ones  and  the  people  of  darkwood  slowly  being  reduced  to  ashes  .   the  wind  blew  soot  and  god  ,  it  burned  his  eyes  but  reggie  remained  unblinking  at  the  horrors  ,  mouth  agape  as  he  stared  at  the  horrors  against  his  will  .  he  wasn’t  sure  how  long  he  had  been  looking  at  it   —  seconds  ,  maybe  minutes   —  when  god  finally  answered  his  prayers  and  he  finally  blinked  .  

the  next  time  reggie  opened  his  eyes  ,  it  was  5:15 AM  and  it  was  time  to  start  his  day .   tick … tock … tick …  tock  …  tick …  tock … and  the  annoying  clock  went  on  and  on  ,  but  he  was  too  listless  to  do  anything  but  sit  on  the  edge  of  his  bed  and  contemplate  that  dreadful  nightmare  .  was  he  truly  wrong  about  eddie  ?  no .  no  .  no  .  he  couldn’t  let  himself  doubt  him  now  ,  too  .   it  was  just  his  psyche  playing  tricks  ,  recycling  the  rumours  and  gossips  the  townspeople  tried  to  imbue  on  his  mind  .  eddie  was  innocent  .  he  paid  no  mind  to  the  other  parts  of  the  dream  ,  that  sickening  loneliness  he  felt   —   it  was  just  a  nightmare  ,  and  being  awake  meant  he  had  other  things  to  worry  about  now   —   eddie  ,  ash  ,  the  diner ,  his  family  —  and  he  was  already  running  late  .  

[it-lives-in-westchester]

ILITW Fanfic

A/N: So PB crushed all of my hopes and dreams....which was also a great motivation for finishing this fanfic. This is how I personally think MC and Redfield!Noah first meeting went. It’s just filled with my own headcanons and such. Never published any fanfics here before, so please be gentle with me.  Named MC Claudia because that is the name I gave her while playing. 

Word count: 5272

Warnings: Some bad language and mentions of death/suicide.

The woods around the small town of Westchester, Oregon always had this eerie energy to it. Everyone knew about the wild animals that lived there, especially after the “feral animals” attacks last year. Even without the animal attacks during the homecoming dance at Westchester High, every generation could remember a tragic event that happened in those woods. 

There are unmarked graves of people who were sacrificed in witch rituals. A sass suicide that happened in the 70s seemingly done by a creepy cult. Countless mysterious deaths that might have just been accidents or gruesome murders. More people one can count who walked into the woods and never came out again. 

Claudia Harrington was well aware of the tragedies that have happened in the woods, after all, she had lived through two of them up close. Still kinda a miracle she survived both of those events, she was not sure if that was a blessing or not. Feeling more numb than ever and her insomnia getting worse than ever.

This was the 3. time this month she had tried to make a new system with the stuff in her room. Maybe she should listen to her mom more often with her having too much stuff in there. Opening one of her drawers, it was a pile of papers, that could have been from anywhere from a week ago or 5 years ago. She sighed deeply and started to make three different piles, one to keep, one that was just blank paper she could reuse and one to throw away. God, there was a lot of crap in there she noted. 

Essays from High school, Reports of stuff, notes from Ava, drafts of short stories she had written, essays from her first year at college, checklists. Then something caught her attention. A handwritten letter, it was her handwriting she was sure of it. 

"Happy Birthday!" was the first thing written on it. There were no memories she had written this. She continued reading it a bit curious. 

"I can't believe you and Jane wou…." Claudia crumbled the piece of paper and threw it in the trash.

Now she remembered it was a stupid thing her consular said she should try. Writing letters to people that they would never read just say everything you wanted to tell them. Claudia did not feel like it helped a whole lot. She thought she had thrown them all away, guess she had not done that. 

Continued to look through the paper pile. However, the “letter” she found earlier was the only thing that was on her mind. After a few minutes, she picked up the crumpled piece of paper from the trash and started to read for herself.

Happy Birthday!

I can’t believe you and Jane would have turn 18 today, I know kind of unbelievable, it seemed like it was just yesterday we believe turning 18 meant we were finally adults, oh how wrong we were right? 

For being honest with you Noah I have no idea what to write here. This whole thing just feels wrong knowing you are not really gone. I just hope you are doing well, wherever you are. 

You’re probably not, but hey I can pretend right?

Good wishes, Claudia. 

After reading the whole thing Claudia swallowed a bit. She could not believe she had written this crap almost 2 years ago. Damn, it already been two years since it all happened? It still felt so fresh in her mind. It still stung, after finally reconnecting with Noah after years of not talking to each other. Feeling like things would be okay between them for the first time in a long while. 

But then he had to throw all of that away, lying to her face about everything. Luring her and all of her friends to a messed up game of “Are you scared?”. Knowing full well it could end with death. 

Oh, how she wished she could hate him for it, after all, he had threatened her with a knife and almost killed everyone because of sheer stupidity, but she could not do it. Still feeling terrible about the fate that Noah Marshall had met all those years ago in the ruins in the woods.   

The "official" story about what happened to him, was that he had a mental breakdown because of unchecked mental illnesses and trauma with losing his sister at such a young age. Delusional and hurt going back to the unsafe caves where his sister died in a hope that it could bring her back. The cave collapsed with him inside and killed him. 

It was dumb, but what else were the townsfolks of Westchester gonna believe. That the corrupt spirit of his sister manipulated him and then convinced it might be a good idea to sacrifice all of their friends in a hope to free her. Then sacrificing himself in the end so he could free her from that awful half-life she had been living for 10 years. Of course not. Sometimes Claudia even had a hard time believing it as the truth. Even though she witnessed it from start to finish. Still hoping she would see him again in the hallways at school during her senior year of high school.     

It was still bothering her on some level that everyone, including her, was just to ignore it. Like everyone did last time after what happened to Jane. This time around they had decided to keep contact, but still. 

It could all happen again, right? Some other stupid kids finding the ruins and getting the same life as Claudia and her friends had been living. No that could not happen. They had not fixed anything, it would come back. Maybe when they are 30 or something and has to deal with the consequences then.  

Looking at the clock, it was around 04:45 am. Looking out of the window it was dark the only thing she could see was the snow on the ground that reflected the moon lightning. Maybe she should..no was she crazy?  

Going back was the whole reason this all started again but at the same time. If she knew earlier that Redfield was gone and it was Jane, could she have prevented it? All that damage? All those deaths? Besides she was not tired so better do something that might be effective and not just scroll through social media till the sun came up, that had seemed to become a habit of lately. 

Thank god her parents were gone for the weekend, so they did not have to question her on what she was doing at 05:00 am. Putting on her winter coat and boots while going outside to her backyard. Going past the tree Cody died in and then entering her shed.   

It had been a while she had been inside the shed behind her house. An old flashlight that was her fathers was on a shelf, that could be useful. After picking up the that she noticed her bat, Barb lying against the wall. That might come in handy in case things went south like last time she thought, then she grabbed it before going out in the woods.  

The woods had not changed over these past 2 years. Tall trees that made it impossible to see the night sky. Weird noises in a lot of places but certain areas where there was not a single sound you could hear. Having a weird feeling that someone or something was always watching you. It almost felt like for each step she took into the woods the heavy feeling in her chest became bigger. At least the snow on the ground made it easier to see where she was going, maybe the flashlight was not necessary. 

Finally, she arrived at the clearing, this was here her, Ava, Andy, and Noah had found Dan in the woods, that seemed like it was forever ago. 

Halfway to the ruins now, you can do it. 

However when she was halfway through the clearing suddenly she heard a tree branch snap. 

Almost just by instinct, Claudia turned around. What the hell was that noise? Behind her was nothing, maybe it was a bird or another small animal… c’mon Claudia that can’t be it. She took a better grip on her bat. 

“Hello?” She said with a bit of uncertainty in her voice. Looking around between the trees, for something, anything. Nothing, just darkness looking back at her. Turning on her flashlight and she started to flash it between the trees like it would comfort her a lot more if she saw something like a deer. Even then the flashlight was old, maybe older than her, so it was not like it did help to see what was between the trees. She tried to listen if any more noises came, but nothing more happened. Nothing felt too of either. She dropped her shoulders a bit, hadn't even noticed how much tension she had put on them. 

C'mon, I am not even there at the ruins yet, it just my mind playing tricks on me. 

However, when she turned around to walk deeper in the woods she stopped. Two bright lights were staring right at her, with a dark shadow surrounding it, like ink spilling over. Her first reaction was to get away, far away. It was kinda a blur what happened next, it was just her acting on fear and panic at the moment. She was not even sure if she had screamed or not.  

The next thing she could see was the stars filling the night sky with no clouds in sight. Claudia looked up trying to catch her breath. Had she fallen over? She tried to collect all of her thoughts in her head.

What the hell, what the hell, what the hell!? Okay just think.

What she had seen was what she thought, right? Wait that would mean…..

She bolted up, nothing was in front of her. No no-no-no. She frantically started to look around the place. It was real right? No hallucination or her lack of sleep made this up. She had seen it, what she had been looking for the reason she was even here in the first place.  

Then she stopped looking around when she noticed the glowing eyes staring at her from behind a tree. When it saw that Claudia was looking at it, it came out of hiding. The glowing eyes belonged to a tall thin shadow creature. She noticed that it seemed to be floating a bit of the ground. The shape was like a man, with a head and arms. So from a distance, it would just look like that, a silhouette of a person. However, if you looked closer you could see that the arms were freakishly long with long sharp fingers at the end of them, and it was a lot taller than an average man.    

"Hey" Rising from the ground and started to walk towards the shadow creature. "Didn't mean to do that, you just surprised me"

She noticed for each step she took the distance between them did not change. It took around five steps before she realized what was happening

For each step, she took forward the shadow took a step backward. 

When she stopped walking so did the shadow creature. 

"Okay then….I'll just stand here then, good for you?" 

Planting her feet on the ground. Redfi...Noah was also standing still now. On the other side of the clearing. Just looking at her while holding a hand towards his "jaw". Not much of a conversation. 

Guess I have to be the one to break the ice.  

"Hello….how are you doing?" That made her cringe in an instance, oh Jesus Christ what kinda question was that. This was also the first time it dawned on her that she had no plans on what to do next. Damn those impulsive thoughts in her head. Well, now it was too late to go back with this. 

There was no response to her question. Just the natural sounds from the woods like birds and other small creatures coming back to her. 

Well, what kind of response was she expecting?

Oh, I have been doing well Claudia, you know expect for this whole being dead thing. Besides that great.

"That was a stupid question, I just realized that" She awkwardly continued. "Maybe you should say something instead because I suck at this as you can see" Could not help herself to laugh nervously after that. Like this was an awkward family reunion with an uncle asking what’s your plan after college and not her talking to an all-powerful forest spirit who could destroy the whole town if it felt like it. It did not seem like Noah even heard her saying anything or he had the most minimalistic reactions to things, she was about to continue talking.

Then she noticed that his eyes were not staring at her directly, but rather her hand. Was still holding a strong grip on Barb, wasn't she?

Oh shit, did I hit him? shit shit shit shIT! No, relax just….

Taking a few seconds of considerations before she dropped the bat on the ground, and then kicked it far enough away she could not reach for it. Noah’s glance followed the bat and then went back into staring right into her eyes when it was out of reach. 

“See… Don’t want to hurt you” she tried to give a small smile to show that she was genuine. In hindsight, that statement was almost ridiculous. What would a bat with barbed wire do against an undead forest spirit? Like if he wanted he could have probably just thrown her against a rock breaking her back in an instant. Maybe he could just drop her onto a tree, as Jane did with Cody, better just break Claudia's neck in on swift motion or maybe I should stop thinking about all the ways I could die, sounds like a plan. 

No big reactions from Noah unfortunately, the only thing he did was staring at her again, like he was studying her. 

Why isn’t he saying anything? 

Claudia almost felt like that made it worse than it was. It was not like Redfield or Jane was that talkative in this type of state either, but they were talking, be it pretty simple. 

She did not know what would have felt worse between him saying nothing or him taunting her for letting him die because she was a coward like the others would have done. At this point, she was not even sure if coming back was a good idea at all. 

C’mon, I can’t give up this easily. I have to try to say something different.

“Can you talk?” that came out a lot more annoyed than Claudia intended to sound like, now it almost felt dumb asking. At least it got a reaction out of Noah, he was now tilting his head and his eyes widened she could see that the colors in them turned neon blue. Almost like he was taken back by the question. 

“.....yesssssss...?” 

Claudia felt every hair on her body rise. Even felt like the temperature had gone more down. That voice was the same voice that had been haunting her nightmares for years. The whispering voice that seemed to break through the silence like nails against a chalkboard. Still, even if it sounded nothing like Noah, it had to be him, right? It could not be anyone else? Maybe he remembered nothing so she could not even say it was him, because nothing that made him Noah Marshall was even left. 

Jane had remembered, right? Even after 10 years and without the advantage of any of her friends knowing it was her. So he had to remember something, he had to remember Claudia, right? 

“Do you remember me?” There was no point dodging the question, Claudia just had to know if he did remember. Hoping there was still something of her old friend in there. 

This was the first in a long time he broke eye contact and was looking at the ground instead. Claudia tried to take one step forward, this time he did not seem to mind. It almost looked like he was too deep in his thoughts to even notice. 

“My name is Claudia, Claudia Harrington, I am… your friend?” She said that last part almost in a whisper, like who knows what to even call their relationship at this point. They have not seen or talked to each other for almost two years. Last time they talked he had held a knife against her throat and then she let him kill himself. What do you even call that? Besides all types of messed up. 

"Claudia..mm?" He said most likely to himself. She tried to walk a few more steps. Without a warning, he turned his gaze back to her and Claudia stopped right in her track holding her breath. Feeling like it got stuck in her throat. 

He was not moving, she was not sure if it was her imagination or not, but it felt like everything had turned eerily quiet even more than before. Nothing that was living in the woods was making any noises now or knew to stay far away from where they were standing. 

She could hear her heart hammering in her chest and she was wondering if Noah could hear it too. 

Why did I not tell anyone what I was planing before going out here? Well, they would have probably tried to stop me. Oh, fucking christ I'm gonna die here. Aren't I?

To Claudia, it almost looked like his eyes was flickering a bit. Then he started to float a bit closer to her, but when he was just about 6 feet away he stopped. He promptly straightens up all of a sudden, It almost looked like he remembered something else.

".....leave.."

"What!? Wait What?" 

Claudia had no idea how to respond or what to do with this. Was she supposed to just leave? Stay? Ask what he meant by "leave"? Had she said something wrong? Was he mad at her for everything that happened? Was there just something else unrelated? What had she done wrong? Her thoughts ran rampant. This was not making any sense to her. 

Claudia looked up from the ground and Noah had not done anything. None of them had done anything. She noticed that his eyes seem to flicker a bit between the usual white, neon blue, and orange flames. 

"No, I am not leaving until you answer my question," She said trying to sound as brave as possible. 

"Do you remember me? Yes, or No" Trying to sound tough as hard when every instinct in her screamed she should run away and never look back. 

Noah backed away and looked a bit to the left. Seemingly trying to avoid all eye contact with her. 

"......Leave.." he said again, lower this time. 

"No, answer my question!" Yelling back at him. 

It seemed to get a reaction out of him. Turning his head and looking directly at her, she felt like his eyes were piercing through her soul. 

Noah started to float a bit closer to Claudia, without breaking eye contact. He bends down so he was just a few inches away from her face. If he had been human Claudia would probably felt him breathing right up in her face and smelt his breath. Had she finally got him to remember something?

"LEEEEAVE!" 

Claudia felt ringing in her ears that made her put her hands against her ears by reflex. She also closed her eyes shut to respond to the pain. 

Nope, did not make him remember anything, just made it worse. Of course, I made it worse.

Slowly she opened her eyes. A face of nightmares was looking straight at her. The familiar skeletal face and bright orange eyes of flames. Which made her close her eyes immediately back again. 

This situation is probably one where most would have run away screaming and never look back. Claudia was considering it. A part of her did not want to go until she got answers and a part of her felt frozen. 

She was still holding her eyes shut. Nothing was happening, was he just standing in front of her? She knew something was in front of her and it was not moving. He had not hurt or touched her and the only thing he wanted was her leaving right?

She started to chant under breath

"I am not scared, I am not scared, I am not scared, I am not scared, I am not sc…"

"Huh….?" The whispering voice responded

Taking a deep breath, before opening her eyes again facing him.  

"I am not scared of you" His eyes widened a bit like he was not expecting her to say that. "And I am not leaving you either," She said with the best poker face she was able to do while her heart felt like it would burst out of her ribcage at any moment. 

The skeletal face with flame eyes was gone and the shadowy face with big neon blue eyes was back again. He backed away as well so he was not right up in her face and was standing a few feet away again.

"I am not leaving you okay, not again, I promise" Claudia took a hand towards him. He looked at it, almost unsure what she meant by it, Claudia continued talking:

"You don't deserve this, and I should have come back sooner, but I am here now, right?"  

Trying to give a small smile. Noah glanced between her face and her hand. She stretched out her arm a bit closer to him. Maybe so he could take the hint. 

"So maybe, we can be friends again?" 

Suddenly Claudia saw that he tried to reach for her hand, but then he suddenly stopped. Almost frozen at the moment. He stood there for about half a minute. 

"no" he started to say. He took back his hand. "no no no" 

Claudia wanted to say something but Noah continued talking to himself seemingly forgetting that Claudia was even standing in front of him. 

"Why back?.....worst...no no-no" He was hiding his face in his hands. Shaking his head back and forth. He continued rambling to himself for a while most of the words Claudia was catching was: "bad" "why" and "no". 

"Noah? It's okay just…."

“DON’T!”

It seemed like the orange flames’ eyes were back again for a solid second. They disappeared just as quickly and he looked down at his own two hands and then at Claudia again.     

".....Bye," he whispered and then turned around to leave her.

"Wait you can't just go!?" Claudia Yelled at him. He did not seem to care and continued floating away from her. 

"After everything you did you can't just leave, you owe me something," she said in frustration. “bye” he replied with again. She ran so she was standing in front of him now and he stopped right in his track.    

"What do you even want me to say or do?"

"...leave..." He said while walking straight through her. It did not feel much kinda like a cold breeze that went past her. Still made her shudder an insane amount.

“Hey!” She yelped and turned around to see him, still did not stop. 

"...bye….leave..." he said again, waving a hand at her. 

“I just want to talk! Come back! Please” It seemed like nothing she said was changing his mind, he was on the other side of clearing now. There was so much she wanted to say and in the end, she finally shouted at him:

“I’m sorry, OKAY!” she noticed Noah stopped walking away.

“.....what?” He turned around with wide eyes. Well no point holding back now, if she was never gonna see him again at least she can say everything she wanted to tell him before being gone forever. Taking a deep breath before continuing.

“I am sorry for everything that happened between us two.

I am sorry I trusted Redfield even though you were right about him. 

I am sorry that I couldn’t save Jane from him as well.

I am sorry I left you after what happened to her. 

I am sorry that you are…you’re..that you...” That was it, she broke, started to choke on a sob. Tears were starting to block her vision. She hid her face in her hands and continued to sob loudly to herself. When her knees started to feel weak she fell on the forest floor. 

Maybe it was naive thinking that just spilling everything out was gonna make her feel or even make the situation at hand better. 

It felt like an aching pain in her chest like her heart was being crushed by a pressure she could not see. 

It was almost painful to breathe in. God if she started to throw up she would just die on the spot she felt like. 

Guilt

That one terrible feeling she had felt constantly since the homecoming night. Been eating at her soul ever since everything happened. Thinking about all the things she could have done differently. 

What if she was not an idiot as a child and backed away when a real-life ghost story wanted to be her friend.

What if she tried to talk to Noah after what happened to Jane, instead of a mutual avoidance of each other. 

What if she had taken Jane’s place instead of being coward. 

What if she had just tried harder to convince Noah it was another way to end Jane's messed up game.

None of her friends seemed to understand that. It did not matter how many times they told her "It's not your fault, you couldn't have stopped this" It still felt like it was her fault. Their choice that night was between life or death. They did not have to choose between killing another person or themself. 

For Claudia, it felt like two people she cared about died because of her. Maybe she shouldn't feel bad after all those two tried to kill her and all of her friends. Still, she knew all the suffering they had gone through how much could have been prevented was the question if she had done different choices. Now she had the possibility to make amends with one of them and she messed up that too. 

God, why can't I do anything right anymore? C'mon when was I doing anything right ever. 

“...Stop crying..”

“What?” She looked up, her vision was a bit blurry because of the tears, but she did notice Noah was standing in front of her now, instead of the other side of the clearing. Then he lowered himself so they were more eye to eye. 

“...Don’t cry….” He hesitantly reached out a hand and slowly patted her head for a while. She barely felt it, but that was definitely what he was doing. 

"..Is..okay.." he continued talking with a bit of uncertainty, "… don't say sorry….is okay..." was he?

“....Are you comforting me?” Claudia did not know what to think, what was happening? Her worst childhood trauma, the monster who has been haunting her half her life, seemingly trying to cheer her up after upsetting her. When just moments earlier it seemed like he wanted nothing to do with her. 

He froze immediately after she asked that. Almost like this was the first time he realized what he was actually doing. 

“....working..?” He stopped doing, whatever he was doing. Holding his hands together, waiting for her response. It was hard reading his expression, it was after all just two bright lights that looked at her. It did not look like he had any anger behind his eyes like before as far as Claudia could tell.

“Yeah, we can say that” Claudia responded while wiping her tears away. 

At least he did not leave like she feared he was going to do. It was kinda sweet, in a weird way. Maybe it was more of her old friend in there, someone who did care about her.

“....sorry too...” He quietly said. it was almost so low Claudia almost did not catch it at all.

“....hurt you...didn’t I?". He was fiddling with his fingers now and looking lower than before. 

"you could say it like that" Claudia responded, a bit unsure what he was talking about this time. 

"Sorry," he said again to her. "Sorry… messed up….sorry"

He could be talking about what had just happened, but Claudia's gut feeling was saying he was talking about something else. The whole reason why both of them were even here, to begin with. 

"So, you do remember me?"

It was a few seconds of silence, Claudia feared a moment she had messed up again. Nevertheless, Noah started to nod a bit. Even looked like he was rolling with his eyes a bit.

"yes..of course…" she noticed that his eyes seemed to be smiling after he said that, if that even any made sense.

That made Claudia smile as well, she could feel her cheeks hurting. 

"I knew you would" She finally said and she felt the tears were coming back again.

"wait… don't cry" 

She started to laugh at that comment. 

"No no, don't worry, I am crying now because I am so happy" She started to explain. It seemed like he tensed down a bit after she explained herself. 

Then they were both sitting in silence for a while, what now? She had to admit it was kinda nice just sitting there with Noah. It was still something left of him inside this shadowy figure, now the question was how to save it. She had no ideas at the moment. Also what was she even gonna tell her friends, they were not so forgiving on what Noah had done. Also with the way he first responded to seeing her again, not the best reaction she could have hoped for. Guess she could tell them later when the time was right. 

What snapped her out of her thoughts was a low hissing sound that seemed to get louder. Suddenly Noah went away and hid behind the treelines. Before Claudia could ask what was wrong she felt sunlight hitting her face that made her squint. 

She had not noticed how bright it had gotten these past few hours. Guess fearing the ghost of a childhood friend might not even remember you were a bigger issue.

"Yeah….not a fan of sunlight I guess" Remembering how Redfield and Jane had reacted to it as well. She turned around where Noah was hiding between the trees. 

"no...hurts a lot" Noah hissed while looking down where the sun was shining.   

"I can come to visit again…. Next week? sounds good?" She gave him a thumbs up. He looked at her gesture for a while, before he copied it back. Then he was gone. 

Claudia walked to were Barb was and picked the bat up. 

"Well looks like I didn't need you," she said to it. She also realized that she never really apologized for potentially hitting Noah in the face, well could do that another time. 

 The woods were not as creepy with the morning lights shining through the tree. After around 15 minutes, she finally arrived back at her house. Going straight to her bedroom and crashed on her bed until the late afternoon.

[modern-oedipus]

Covid Vent

No one: Nila, who goes out maybe once in a month due to covid: *listens to coffee shop sounds in youtube to get in mood*  It’s really hard to maintain social isolation now that it has been 5 months. But the cases are going up and up and up, hitting my friends and their families. I myself had to split houses with my mother because she had covid cases in her work place. I don’t think I’d isolate myself this much if I wasn’t in the risk group, but I am. Knowing that I am most likely to go to intensive care and experience the trouble breathing again like I did during the asthma treatment is not good. The potential permanent damage on lungs, for someone like me whose lungs are already more prone to sickness compared to healthy people, is also a big no, considering that I’m only in my early twenties and if everything goes well and I live a normal life I’d live around 50 more years.  50 more years with a disability or isolating myself at home? Isolation, obviously. But this pandemic doesn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon. I am only indoors because both my internships are online & college hasn’t started yet. I know that I’ll eventually have to go out if my college doesn’t switch to online education. It doesn’t scare me at all, though, I am not like, “anxious”. I’m concerned, disturbed, alert, but not in a paranoid anxiety. If I end up catching covid, I’m at least mentally prepared to deal with it. I’m also eating healthy and exercising and don’t really have health problems except for that past-lung-treatments that more or less put me to a risk group (risky enough to concern me, even though I don’t have a chronic illness), so who knows, I might just pass it like a flu as well. No one knows. It’s not good overthinking covid, all I can do is to keep social distancing & mask & hygiene, as always. I’m just so suffocated. I’m more prone to be an extrovert. Before pandemic, I’d only use my house to sleep I’d keep being out in public, attending events, ORGANIZING events, going to coffee shops, club meetings, lots and lots of stage plays, tours, everything. I’d sneak into my friends’ dorms and change cities and just so many more “normal” fun things. I was barely starting to enjoy my life again after the depression healed. Now, I’m mentally ok, but physically trapped. The “watch netflix, read books, stay home” thing is kind of overdosing me right now. I like this shit for a week maybe, not for 5 months. I don’t know how to not risk my mental health while keeping my physical health anymore. Of course, to even HAVE a mental health I need to stay alive, so I’m not complaining- health care workers, people who go to job everyday (including my parents), etc. are in such a harder situation. I know. But my own life is also valid, and while not as troubling and concerning as lives of others right now, well, I think I’m still worth caring, at least by myself. I don’t expect any extra outside compassion or validation (we all are in same situation), me writing my thoughts here is more of me just trying to see my thoughts being worded on screen so that maybe I can come up with a solution to these things as I go. Because I’ve always been a problem-solver rather than just merely venting. (I can’t always solve problems though, I need to work on accepting this fact.) Anyway, I just thought, maybe spending more time outdoors in the natural park that is close to my house could be a good thing. But it’s crowded since it’s outdoors and I really don’t want to share any commonly used areas right now. (I used to be more than okay with this before covid, as I said, I’m mostly extroverted and I like community gatherings, but I like being healthy more), so like... Idk, maybe I can just sort of have phone calls and videochats with my friends as I sit outdoors. Except I don’t even know I have that many friends anymore. I mean, I do- I surely do have bestest of friends in my life that I’m grateful for, but like. I am somehow an introvert magnet and while I’d die for most of my best friends (both irl and online) I don’t really think they are as hype about just chatting as often as I am. (I know that this doesn’t mean they love me any less. They love me in their own way & I love them in their own way so that’s OK.) So like. Maybe Nila, have this BRILLIANT idea of making more friends. Except. Like. You’re at home so you aren’t in much of social gatherings [you aren’t in any! That is insane!] and you don’t really know how to make friends from home. I mean, yes there are online friends but like. EVEN WITH THEM. How can I just *trust* them right away? I can’t, so like. I don’t know. I’m bored af.  On the bright side, today one of my bff from school called me and said he’s back in town and that we should catch up, he’s literally one of the greatest company ever and he wants to see the doggo, so I’m positive we can just have hour 9242309204 hours long in-depth chats again without getting bored (amazing to have people like that in my life). Anyway. I guess the moral of this is:

- I need to accept “the new normal”

- I need to protect myself but try to keep my mental health as good as possible because I like myself more when my mental health is fine and I can also come up with better creations then

- I need to finish my course work (internship) so that I can relax before school starts

- I need to spend more time outdoors but in isolated areas (good luck finding them!) 

- I need to recharge

- I “want to” make more friends or just check up on existing ones! I can’t use the word “need” for this because this would degrade the freedom of the other party. Friends are appreciated, and to some extend, a necessity for social creatures like us, but no “need” will make it happen. I will just make an effort to check up on my existing friends more frequently-- I’m quite selective at this, though, I prefer generally upbringing people who are mature to a certain extend (aka, no obsession, no passive-aggression. yes to personal boundaries, yes to an overall nice attitude [we all can have problems and that’s ok and that’s normal. what /I/ personally don’t wish to be around [with my all respect] is this mindset of “life is a disaster let’s be depressed” thing. I just love love my current friend circle because even if my close friends are just around 7 people, and even if we get depressed or sad or scared, our general look to life is nicer, we don’t make disasters out of regular days, we enjoy talking and chatting, which overall increases our life quality and makes it better. We also communicate & respect & listen to each other and all. I mean. It’s not like that with everyone, and that’s ok, but as I said, this is my personal preference. I prefer having bonds that are good rather than toxic and I am doing my best to be equally good, rather than being toxic to my friends. [I’m sorry I post a lot of Banana Fish to those who don’t know Banana Fish, ok. I know ur bored but like I just cannot help it. I’m trying to tone it down but BANANA FISH.] sOOOOOOOO, SOOOO that’s why it’s not how “i have 29420343204 friends uwu” mindset, like, I noticed I need to be reasonably picky with those I’m close to so that I and people I love can overall have a nice, fun days, which is point of friendship. (I mean. As I said. I’m here on bad days too. But I don’t feel mentally healthy enough to carry the burden of someone else’s depression. It hasn’t even been two months since I’m out of therapy yet, and my mental health is, while not bad, it is fragile. I’d rather not be around those who can [mostly, unwillingly] effect me badly. SO LIKE.  - that’s one hell of a long post nila, but long story short FRIENDS or you’ll die out of boredom

- also just finish your coursework i beg you

- thanks for coming to my ted talk, I actually always offer potential solutions on my vent posts, but this time i wanted to write this publicly [i dont think anyone will read this and i dont mind it] because like. why not? it’s just me thinking and I feel as if this could be of use for some people who are reading this & isolating themselves too. anyway, i love u, stay safe.