#what is not to love about a cat girl with a love of knives and distate for people

[teddiesworldd]

after the world ends.

ghost finds you out in the woods during a zombie outbreak and falls in love with you. (2.6K words) read part 2 here!!!

a/n: this idea has been on my mind for a while and it was so sweet i just had to write it down and share it with you <3 also, if you'd like to be added to a taglist, let me know!

pairing: simon ghost riley x female reader

tags/warnings: nsfw, mdni!!, apocalypse au, mentions of weapons, killing (zombies), survival situation, unprotected p in v sex, cute fluffy stuff in the middle of a zombie apocalypse because why not?!, soap makes an appearance

day 17 of the apocalypse, 3 weeks after the first outbreak.

you had lasted this long purely by camping out in the back of your car, driving somewhere more remote to avoid the infected and rationing whatever you'd managed to bring in from your kitchen at the beginning of it all. but as supplies got low and you were down to your last water bottle, you were forced to venture out into the nearby woodland, gathering whatever you could forage from the streams and bushes. you knew absolutely nothing about surviving out here. you couldn’t hunt and could barely light a fire. the first day of winter was in less than a month and you had no real shelter to keep you warm. you had no idea which berries were safe to eat or how to filter water. all you had was your kitchen silverware for protection and your best winter jacket for the weather.

you’d last about 2 weeks out here at best, and that’s without the fucking zombies. 

you'd been walking for about an hour since leaving your car, and to be honest, you didn’t think you could find your way back now. everything looked the same. you had found only a pocketful of what you could only guess was edible, and a protein bar from the pocket of a dead guy’s jeans. every single noise scared the hell out of you. and the bite marks on his neck raised your adrenaline tenfold. 

thud. thud. snap.

footsteps. sticks breaking underfoot. 

“who’s there?” you called out. “i’m- i’m serious, come any closer and… and… i’ll kill you!”, shouting now, cold hand gripping your rusted kitchen knife tightly.

you saw a huge figure behind the trunk of a nearby tree, and he chuckled lowly at your brave attempt to scare him away. “you don’t scare me, sweetheart”, the voice said, deep and rough, walking out from behind the tree, “thought y'were a rabbit or something - cute lil' thing, rustling in those bushes. and if i was infected, you’d be dead by now, with a mouth on you like that.”

he was an absolute giant of a man, 6 and a half foot at least and built like a brick shithouse. he was in full military gear, skull mask over his face, armed with a rifle in hand and knives strapped to his chest and belt. he approached you slowly, palms facing you like he was trying not to spook a stray cat. part of you wondered if you were hallucinating - you'd not been sleeping well from the nightmares of the infected night after night.

“no use shouting, anyway - they’ll find you straight away making all that noise.” he continued, leaves crunching under his black boots, walking closer, “what’s a girl like you doing out 'ere, all alone?”

you were frozen in place, like a deer in headlights. he was already intimidating as fuck without the massive armoury hanging round his waist, but now he was so close you could feel his breath on your face. a thought crossed your mind that if he tried to kill you now, there would be absolutely nothing you could do to stop him. it made a shiver run down your back.

his gloved hand reached out to hold your chin. you looked up at him, eyes welling up from the pure fear that ran through you.

“lost?” he said quietly, tilting his head to get a proper look at you. 

you nodded slowly.

“well, you won’t get far with that old thing, love” he smirked through the mask, eyeing the blade in your hand. “here, i’ll take you back to camp with me, make you a proper meal, yeah? when did you eat last?”

you engaged in some light small talk on the way, finding out he was called “ghost” and he used to serve in a special operations unit for a private military company. i guess it made sense that the best survivors would be the soldiers. you mentioned how you’d been living in your car for the past two weeks, which seemed to amuse him. he probably thought you were just some dumb girl who’d somehow managed to scrape through until now.

he wasn’t wrong, really.

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

his camp was much nicer than the back of your car. 

it wasn't far from where he'd found you. they had lots of weapons and food and beds. and people. there must of been about 10 men in total. the infected weren’t really an issue with their impressive arsenal. there was a large fence surrounding the camp and the men took it in turns to kill anything that tried getting inside. it was pretty clear that ghost was closest to one of the other ex-military guys called "soap". they sat together when they ate and stayed up late at night talking together around the fire - matching dog tags glinting in the dim light. you often watched them through your tent door - enjoying their company but not wanting to interrupt their conversation. you listened as they talked deeply, recounting their time serving together, telling stories of bravery and bloodshed. it became your routine to fall asleep listening to them.

after about 3 or 4 weeks, following the first snowfall, you’d adjusted to life in the camp. soap had taught you a few things and often spent the mornings taking you hunting or showing you how to use the guns - a hand on your waist as he lined you up for the kill shot. he had a sweet nature and silly charm to him, telling you ridiculous jokes that only made you laugh because they were so stupid. you would never tell him that though - he thought you found him hilarious.

however, it was ghost you’d grown closest to, giving you anything and everything you needed. he was mysterious and that drew you to him. one time, he took you down to the river to wash the cookware and yourselves, and you'd caught a glimpse of him pulling off his clothes and mask, blonde hair and muscles seeing the light of day. you couldn't deny it - he was gorgeous.

he often checked on you in the evenings, making sure you’d settled in okay. he sat next to your bed, running a gloved hand over your hair, rubbing small circles into your scalp.

“you like the boys?” he’d ask, “they treating you okay?”

and you’d nod, just like you’d do every night.

“not scared, are you, doll?”

you shook your head.

“good. just making sure.”

and with that, he’d leave, heading to his own tent to rest, or out to guard the fence.

but one night, before he got up to get some sleep, you grabbed his hand. he looked back at you, dark eyes watching yours.

“stay?” you whispered.

and he did, without a word. stripping off his heavy gear and perching next to you in bed, rough camo trousers scratching against your bare shoulder. 

and he stayed, just like you asked. watching over you like a dog and keeping you safe.

sometime in the night, you’d turned to face him where he sat, resting an arm over his thigh. but he didn’t push you off. he just let you rest - your warm breath causing a dampness throughout the tent. 

it was only when the winter sunlight streamed through the tent that you realised he really did stay - all night. you opened your eyes to see he’d settled in next to you, his sleeping body alongside yours in the small camp bed, your arm still around him. 

and when you tried to pull yourself away out of embarrassment, he pulled it back, keeping it over his chest. 

“for warmth, yeah?” he said quietly, voice all deep and sleepy.

and how could you argue with that? these were trying times, after all. 

after a moment's silence, he said “you’re a pretty thing, love. always thought so, even when i first met you and you were all scared and dirty.” he continued, heavy eyes looking down at your vulnerable form. “soap thinks so too, but you’re mine, yeah? i found you - you’re mine.”

there was something about the possessive glint in his eye that showed you he really meant it - his gaze trailing down from your face to your uncovered hips that had shuffled out the sheets in your sleep.

"cm'ere" he said, taking your arm in his grasp and pulling you towards him. "i mean it, love. do you wan' to be mine?" eyes watching your face to see how you'd react to his question. your faces were close now, closer than they'd ever been. he'd looked after you so nicely, giving you everything you needed, protecting you from harm all this time. you couldn't help but agree with him. how could anyone not fall for this attractive man who cared for you so much? and the feeling of his chest under your hand made you fall for him even harder.

"yeah," you whispered against his masked face "...yours."

your small hand reached up to reveal his lips under his mask. he pulled you in, kissing you softly. it was short but there was so much behind it. you could tell he wanted more but he was holding back. he didn't want to accidentally push you away by moving too fast. he pulled back to look at you, hands cupping your soft face, which was still clouded with sleep.

"you're so beautiful, you know that?" he spoke so softly now. it was like the walls he'd put up had fell instantly. he just wanted a moment to be yours. no one else's. not the camp's cook or the guard or the hunter. just yours and nothing else.

you pulled yourself back to his face, kissing him again but soon moving your lips down to kiss his chin, and then his neck. but you didn't get far before he stopped you.

"no, no, love. let me take care of you - you deserve it." he said, turning you around so you were on your back, head resting on your plush pillow as his touch relaxed you.

it was almost as if for just a moment, you weren't in the middle of a fucking nightmare. you were at home, in your own bed. maybe you'd met him at work or out on a date - anywhere that wasn't in a forest full of zombies. and he'd taken you out for dinner a few times and you'd decided he was sweet enough to be kissing down your body, rolling his tongue over your nipples.

but here you were, in a camp full of strangers, being transported by this man who you barely knew, covered only by the walls of a thin tent. but it just felt so right to let him take you like this. you trusted him with your life. and in return he worked your body like magic. his touch was so gentle - yet his skin was so rough compared to your own.

"you want me inside you, baby?" he spoke to you so softly, having kissed down to the top of your underwear now. his eyes watched you, waiting for your permission to carry on.

"please," you replied, "i want you."

that was all he needed to hear. he pulled off his shirt and your underwear, tossing them both to the side. he admired your body shamelessly, eyes tracing the outline of your waist and your body. you couldn't help but do the same, entranced by the way his muscles practically glowed in the light that came through the tent. he was built like a rugby player, pure muscle but with a good layer of fat on top to smooth everything out. you watched as he unbuttoned his pants and pulled out his cock.

he was huge. you knew he was a big guy but you weren't expecting it to apply to all of him. it was definitely bigger than anyone you'd ever been with. his tip was an angry shade of red from how hard he was, precum running down his shaft. noticing the expression on your face, he reassured you.

"don't worry, i'll be gentle with you."

he lined himself up with your entrance, your wetness being enough to allow himself to push slowly inside. it stretched you more than you ever had been, causing you to hiss as it dipped inside you. he bent forward down to kiss you sweetly, silencing your pained noises, shushing you each time his lips left yours. he continued to move in until he bottomed out inside of you.

"you okay?" he grunted, "tell me when to move, love."

you paused for a moment, adjusting to his size before nodding to let him know he could start moving.

he didn't fuck like you expected him to. you thought a guy like him would be railing you like an animal, but no. he made love to you, his slow but deep thrusts hitting all the perfect spots in your gummy walls. it was pure bliss, and he thought so too, struggling to keep back his grunts each time he thrust into you.

"fucckkkk baby," he'd say, dog tag hanging down as he fucked you, "your pussy is so tight, gripping me so good". he hooked your legs behind his back and moved his big hands onto your hips to hold you in place. " is it good for you too, doll? you look so pretty with that fucked-out look on your face." he went on, smirking at you like he was proud of his work.

you couldn't even form words, let alone piece together a decent response. he felt amazing, pulling all the way out so only his tip was inside of you and then pushing all the way back in again, until you were an absolute drooling mess, jaw slack and whining on his cock. and just when you thought it couldn't get any better, he moved his hand between your legs and rubbed lazy circles on your clit with his thumb. almost instantly your pussy started pulsing around him - with you blubbering out incoherent swears and moans - having sent you completely over the edge in a matter of minutes. he wasn't far away either - your clenching making his hips stutter back and forth as he helped you ride through your orgasm. you could of swore you were seeing stars by the time he pulled out of you and came over your stomach with a moan, pressing his forehead to yours.

it took you both a few minutes to come back down again, giggling and kissing his lips once more. your arms found their way around his neck, holding him close to you. you were both a panting mess, clothes discarded across the tent floor and the scent of sex heavy in the air.

"my girl- you're gorgeous," he managed to huff out, catching his breath. " 'm never getting over you."

when news broke that a zombie apocalypse was spreading, you had no idea it would lead to this hunk of a man in bed with you - spoiling you and loving you like this. you weren't complaining, though. not at all. at least something good came from it.

he cleaned you up so carefully, being sure not to press too hard on your sensitive body. and when he'd made sure you were okay, he brought you something to eat and led down with you, stroking up and down on your back, drawing shapes and letters on your skin. part of you couldn't believe this was the same guy who you watched shoot a zombie in the face through the fence the other day. his hands were so gentle, always cautious not to hurt you under his touch.

and as your eyes grew heavy again, revelling in his embrace, you heard him say something into your skin.

"simon," he said quietly, face buried in your neck. "my real name's simon."

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[hunnylagoon]

Right Where You Left Me

Pt 3: Being So Normal

Ellie Williams x Reader

Horror pushes tears from my eyes as I uncover the corpses of your past relationships. Each of them dead and lifeless as the next. Because that is what you do, you ruin what is good and it makes me miss you less and less as everyday goes by.

Premise: You and Ellie were childhood friends until you drifted apart. Funny thing about soulmates is that they tend to find their way back to each other. On this night some questionable choices lead you to a vulnerable state where you run out of options.

Warnings: Angst / reader has religious issues / drinking / smoking / drugs

Part one here!

Part two here!

Part three here!

ELLIE

It wasn't as fun as I thought to watch you fall apart.

The morning after Christmas you left before I even woke, your makeshift bed made. You gathered all of the boxes of shit I collected off your dad's lawn and took off, leaving behind nothing more than a letter thanking my dad for his hospitality. 

When I came back to Northridge a week later it was like I was looking at a new person. 

Everything that had happened was swept under the rug, you lied and told the girls that you had a great Christmas. You started picking up overtime shifts, you were out more than you were at home.

I watch you stumble through the doors at five AM, makeup smeared, hair a mess and the fakest smile I have ever borne witness to, plastered across your face. You worked the closing shift almost every night and would go partying afterwards with your shitty co-workers who enabled this type of ruination.

I saw your stories too, shot after shot, In every single picture you nurse a drink in your hand or a cigarette wedged between your fingers. When did you even start smoking?

Abby and Cat didn't know just had bad you were but Dina was catching on. I remember how she would go out with you at the beginning, in her mind it had just been harmless fun until it was a nightly occurrence she started to get concerned.

It's like you've euthanized the person you used to be.

You can't even stand to be in a quiet room so you will it with nonsense conversation, hardly even words and laugh at your own jokes.

You used to glow. Back in middle school, you glowed like a candle that smelled of pumpkins and lattes, your love felt like sinking into a warm bath, comfort and security. In high school you glowed like the moon, no one could pry their wondering eyes away from your nerve-wracking beauty, gentle and empathetic.

Though now you do not glow, you burn. You burn like the end of a cigarette, the bud fluttering to the ground just to be crushed by the heel of muddy Converse. The spark of a lighter to ignite your stale menthol cigarette, slipped from bony fingers like clumsy matchsticks to the wilderness, to set what once was beautiful aflame.

Fire is only beautiful while it burns, I knew that soon you would smother yourself out to ashes.

I've been nourishing my withering body with 50-cent packets of ramen noodles. 

I know that I'm not well, in fact, I think I've fallen off the rails.

When was the last time I got a full night of sleep? I'm not sure.

My days and nights bleed together and I can hardly differentiate the two. I hate everyone but I'm so starved for love I am searching everywhere for it, I look for it in dingy clubs and roadkill off the side of a highway, the bottom of a solo cup and the arms of one-night stands, I have even learned to lick it off silver knives. They have taken the rosery from my hand and replaced it with hard liquor.

I went out last night to forget like I do every single night. I look to the moon and pretend it is its being with thoughts and feelings, I act like I talk to it and it has said that it shines just for me.

Tonight, I will go out again. I smear glitter over my eyelids and slip into a silver sequin dress that doesn't even fall past my fingertips. I force my scabbed and bleeding feet into white stilettos that are sure to damage them even further. When I look in the mirror I feel a new sense of bitterness, like nicotine on the tip of my tongue, my face is thinning and my eyes are sunken in, dark bags hanging below the dull irisis. I cover it in concealer and bronze my face to help me look some sort of alive.

"Where are you going?" Dina asks me as I walk from my room and towards the front door, she has a tote bag packed up, her car keys in hand.

"The Monarch," I answer, it was a club on the main street, it tended to be the busiest also infamous for sketchy activity. My eyebrows furrow as I look at the tote bag in hand "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to Jesse's for the night, " She says, tonight her hair is loose and falling over her shoulders "Are you sure you wanna go out tonight?"

I nod, suddenly feeling vulnerable in my choice of clothing "Yeah," Sensing her judgement, I'm already getting defensive "I'm in college, all I do and go to work and school-

"Who's fault is that?" Dina cuts me off and my words fail me, I don't know what to say. She looks at me with disappointment glinting in her dark eyes.

My phone dings and I check the notification "My ride is here."

"Don't stay out too late."

"I won't," We both know that I am lying.

I have been many things over the years, a pirate, a cowboy, a warrior; over the past five months alone I have been a lonely girl and a saint, now I am a drunk who drowns out her worries in vodka and overly sweet cocktails.

"To being young, dumb, and broke!" Kayla raises her shot, and the rest of the group does the same. The small glasses clink together, and some of the vodka spills before we all swallow them back and slam them back onto the bar.

The central focal point was the expansive dance floor, alive with bodies moving in rhythmic unison. Multicoloured strobe lights cut through the haze, creating an otherworldly atmosphere.

The bar, a gleaming expanse of polished metal, beckoned with the promise of libations. Bartenders, clad in stylish attire, skillfully craft cocktails. The mirrored backdrop reflected the kaleidoscope of lights and the animated conversations that unfolded in this hub of social convergence.

Overhead, suspended fixtures resembling metallic sculptures add to the overstimulation.

"Welcome back," The bartender, Mitch, smiles at me, I know him by name now that I've been bouncing around from club to club almost every night. "Long Island ice tea?" He asks, to which I respond with a nod. He's memorized my drink too.

Kayla is beside me while the others have dispersed to dance or converse, she sips a dirty martini. Her beautiful copper hair is styled into loose curls, she is clad in all black, a tube top, a mini skirt and tall boots as well as a slightly oversized leather jacket thrown overtop. She looks like the definition of a cool girl.

Everyone liked her. 

"So how are things with the roommates?" She asks me, her green eyes piercing mine, she has a slight smile on her perfect lips.

"It's fine," I lied, again. I knew Dina was getting tired of taking care of me when I was too drunk to make my own way home, all of the girls that Ellie brought over hated me. I haven't been seeing much of Abby but Cat and I were actually good.

I can tell that Kayla doubts my words but she carries on to another topic "Are you ready to get fucked up tonight?"

"Yes, ma'am," I giggle. Around the curved bar, I see a woman, she's in a red top and black jeans, her hair in a mousy brown shag cut. Obviously, she caught my eye. "Do you think she's gay?"

Kayla discreetly turns to look at the woman, she turns back to me grinning "No shit."

The woman catches me staring at her and smiles at me, of course, she has perfectly straight white teeth and a pretty smile. I sheepishly smile back "Hey, Mitch?" I wait for the bartender to give me his attention "Two shots of Everclear?"

That's how the majority of my night plays out; I dance for a minute, swaying to- not really swaying, I was dancing in a way that became a hazard to those around me then return to the bar to down more drinks.

"Hey," I hear a voice beside me, it isn't one I recognize, and when I face it, I feel my heartbeat pick up. It was the woman I had been eyeing, now that she's this close I can see the freckles scattered on her face. "Do you wanna dance?"

I can't help when my face splits into a smile, "For sure," I slip off the barstool and follow her onto the dancefloor, the lights are orange and hazy or maybe the haziness is caused by my drunken state. The woman says something to me but it's drowned out by the overwhelmingly loud music "What?" 

"I'm Karris," She repeats, smiling down at me.

"Cool!" I say. I followed Karris' lead with the dancing, she had a certain confidence in her. 

I swayed with each ungraceful movement. Karris, the opposite of me is attuned to the music, moved with a confident fluidity that balanced out my careless stumbles. She laughs at my dancing "Here, I'll help you out." She shouts, trying to be heard over the Rhianna song blasting in my ears.

She comes up behind me, snaking her hands down my torso until they find a resting spot on my hips. With a firm grip, she slows me down, and now I'm moving with her, as one.

My sequin dress shimmered with every twist and move, like a mirrorball, I too might hang. As the light shifts I could've sworn I saw Ellie in the face of Karris. 

I felt the liquor hit me all at once and my body became loose, melting into Karris, I'm almost limp against her touch. She's in front of me now and my arms are hooked around her neck while her slim hands lay on her midriff. 

Her eyebrows furrow as she says something to me but once again it it lost in all of the noise, I just laugh, pretending like I heard what she was saying and hoping that it wasn't something about her dog dying.

The pop song changes into some song in French, I can't make out the words. Wait, I aced every French test in high school, I step away from Karris, squinting my eyes as I stand still in the middle of the dancefloor trying to process the lyrics.

 Je veux te voir- I need you, no, that doesn't sound right. I want to see you, that's it. 

 je veux t'avoir- I want to hold you.

I want to hold you? Is that it? When did my French get so rough? I can't even think straight.

I swear on every god I was so drunk that I forgot I was in the middle of a dancefloor, it had slipped from my mind that I was dancing with someone, and all I could think about was my French classes from high school.

Age fifteen - Grade 10

The French lesson seemed to be even more boring than usual that day. Monsieur Cargin was babbling on and on about how there could be a room full of women but if there was one male rat you would refer to them using ils instead of elles. It was the same lesson I had learned every single year in French.

It took Monsieur Cargin thirty minutes to announce the project. "Pour ce devoir, vous écrirez une lettre à un camarade de classe sur vous-même, vous pourrez inclure des informations sur votre famille, vos passe-temps, vos sujets préférés et peut-être un bon souvenir. Si vous êtes ami avec votre partenaire, vous pouvez écrire avec lui sur quelque chose que vous attendez avec impatience. La lettre fera au minimum un paragraphe, je viserais plus haut si vous voulez une bonne note." Easy enough, a letter to a classmate about your self. "Avant de demander, vous pouvez choisir vos propres partenaires."

I look right over to Ellie from across the room after he mentions choosing our own partners, she doesn't meet my gaze though, she looks as lost as ever, rifling through some papers in her binder and I'm not even sure she understood a word of what the teacher said.

Monsieur Cargin lets us begin our project, everyone gets up from their seat to search for a partner; Ellie, seeing that everyone is standing up, gets up as well. I wave her down to my desk, she crouches beside it and asks "What the fuck are we supposed to be doing?"

I explain the project to her while she hangs off my desk and nods at everything I'm saying, giving me her full attention "Do you get it now?"

"Yes." 

The next day we finished writing the letters and had to give them to each other before we turned it in, I gave Ellie my letter first.

Ellie,

Je suis heureux que nous soyons amis, non seulement parce que nos parents nous ont forcés à l'être, mais parce que tu es mon âme sœur dans chaque vie. J'aimerais te parler de moi, mais tu me connais déjà mieux que moi-même, alors je vais juste dire certaines choses que je sais sur toi. Vous avez lu chaque couverture de la bande dessinée Savage Starlight, plus d'une fois. Je sais que vous aimez faire du shopping dans la section hommes des magasins parce que vous pensez que c'est plus confortable même si vous finissez par ressembler à Adam Sandler. Vous détestez les mathématiques même si vous êtes vraiment bon dans ce domaine et vous aimez l'anglais même si vous détestez les études romanesques. Vous parlez à toute vitesse parce que vous avez tellement de choses à dire et pas assez de temps pour le dire, vous chantez comme une église avec une chorale et chaque fois que je vous vois entrer dans une pièce, je ne peux m'empêcher de sourire. J'ai hâte d'entrer à l'université, nous pouvons être colocataires et décorer la maison exactement comme nous le voulons, merci de toujours me supporter.

(Translation)

Ellie,

I'm glad that we're friends, not just because our parents forced us to be but because you are my soulmate in every single life. I would like to tell you about me, but you already know me better than I know myself so instead I will just say some things I know about you. You have read every Savage Starlight comic cover to cover, more than once. I know that you like to shop in the men's section at stores because you think it's more comfortable even if you end up looking like Adam Sandler. You hate math even though you are really good at it and you love English even though you hate novel studies. You talk at a mile a minute because you have so much to say and not enough time to say it, you sing like a church with a choir in it and every time I see you walk into a room I can't help but smile. I can't wait for college, we can be roommates and decorate the house exactly how we want it, thank you for always putting up with me.

I bent the rubric a little bit, talking about Ellie rather than myself but we were really getting graded on our French comprehension, not the subject matter of the letter. Ellie read it through, over and over, nodding her head along and pretending that it made perfect sense but I can tell by the way she squints her eyes and furrows her eyebrows that it doesn't make sense. She hand hers to me next, pride clear across her face.

Ton père est toujours en colère et je pense que c'est pour ça que nous sommes mariés. J'apprécie quand tu dors dans ma chambre et que nous nous battons avec des pistolets à eau. Mon film préféré à regarder est Star Wars, mais j'apprécie aussi Hunger Games parce que vous en êtes témoin. J'attends avec impatience une soirée cinéma ce vendredi avec vous. Tu es très cool, merci d'être mon ami.

(Translation)

Your dad is always mad and I think that is why we are married. I enjoy when you sleep at my room and we fight with guns of water. My favourite movie to watch is Star Wars but I also enjoy Hunger games because you witness it. I look forward to night movie this Friday because with you. You are very cool, thank for being my friend.

I can't help but giggle when I read it over, this causes panic in Ellie "Why are you laughing, what's wrong with it?"

"I love you but you are definitely failing."

I quickly helped her rewrite it before we turned it in, and she ended up getting a B with my revisions.

"Are you okay?" I hear Karris, she looks a little on edge, probably because I went nonverbal and froze for a solid minute or two.

"She's fine," Kayla puts her hands on either of my arms which are currently plastered to my side "I'm just gonna snag her for a minute if you don't mind." Kayla didn't wait for a response she was already dragging me away, guiding me through the sea of people and into the bathroom.

I always hated the bathroom here. The walls were black tile with white grout and there was graffiti all over the stalls and ceiling, apparently, it added to the effect, I just thought it was fugly; not to mention how dimly lit it was, there were red LED strips behind the mirrors but that was about the only light source. If you were trying to fix your eyeliner, you 

"What is going on with you?" Kayla leans against the counter with the sinks, I'm right in front of her with my arms crossed.

"Nothing-

"I just saw you glitch in real life," She raises her eyebrows "You literally froze, I thought you were having a stroke."

I wipe some sweat off my brow "My head hurts," I mutter, I've already had too much to drink and we really hadn't been there that long. My thoughts didn't seem to process. Now keep in mind that I was so insanely plastered that night that I don't remember everything verbatim, I had to take others' words for what happened.

"Do you want an aspirin?" Kayla asks to which I nod and she begins digging through her purse, she pulls out a little bottle and I hear the rattling of pills. It's so dark that I can only make out the vague shape of the bottle. She places a little pill into my hand and gives me a half-drunk bottle of Fiji water in my free hand.

I don't need the water though, I dry swallow it.

She tucks the bottle back into her purse and feels something, I see her eyes go wide and that alone begins to stress me out. "What?" I ask, with no answer. She dumps her purse onto the counter behind her and turns on her phone flash to look at each item, she snatches a bottle of Tylenol and takes the cap off just for her hand to fly over her mouth. "Is something wrong?"

"I didn't give you aspirin," She's fighting back laughter but her dainty features are etched with concern.

"So?" I say, "It's just Tylenol, it won't kill me," My speech is slurred from the alcohol in my system.

"Honey, it's not Tylenol," She lowers her hand from her mouth, pressing her lips together tight. "It's MDMA."

"What?"

"Ecstasy," She corrects herself, making it easier for me to understand.

"WHAT?" My eyes go wide and my jaw drops "WHAT?" I repeat, running over to one of the nasty graffiti-covered stalls and kneeling in front of it, sticking my fingers down my throat to try and throw up to get it out of my system before it sets in. "Say something gross to make me throw up!"

"Uhh," Kayla stood behind me "Think of your dad getting off with your grandma!"

"EW!" I shout, turning to look at her with disgust on my face. "Why would you say that?"

"You told me to say something gross!"

"Not that!" I cry, slouching against the stall. I wish I had a time machine, I wouldn't just go back four hours, I would go back four years and make sure I play everything right. Maybe then I wouldn't be drunk and high in the bathroom of a dingy nightclub and I would still have Ellie.

"It's okay, honey, It's clean," Kayla walks closer to me, the heels of her boots clacking on the tile "I promise," She offers me a little rub on the shoulder "I promise I'll take good care of you tonight and make sure you're safe."

She was lying through her teeth, and just an hour later I was face down on the bar, lulling in and out of consciousness. That is the exact moment I started to think it wasn't clean like Kayla had said. My high didn't feel like what I was told rolling was like.

At first, I felt fine and then everything started to feel off. You know when you spin around a bunch super fast and your world spins under your feet? It was like that. 

Before I retired to the bar, I tried to get back on the dancefloor just for my body to betray me and collapse onto the ground, people around me had stopped to watch me stagger back onto my feet and wordlessly stumble away.

After I lift my head off the spruce bartop and don't see Kayla anywhere in sight for the seventh time, I reach for my phone that I had stuffed into my bra and dial up Dina. 

I hear the hum of the tone before it clicks and I hear her static voice on the other end. "Hello?" Her voice crackles.

"Dina, I'm on drugs."

"What?" I hear some shuffling in the background then what sounds like the click of a door "What drugs? are you okay?"

"I don't know," My voice drags out "Kayla took it out of her purse, said it was MMA and I'm not-" I hiccup "I'm not doing well."

"What the hell is MMA? Isn't that mixed martial arts?"

"Dina, I'm not doing martial arts, I'm doing drugs."

She sighs and I can feel her disappointment through the phone "Are you still at Monarch?"

"Yes."

"Hang on," Something shifts in the background.

"I'm kind of scared."

"Please just stay where you are-

"I love you, Dina."

"I lo- CLICK

My phone dies, and the screen turns black. I click some buttons for a moment to ensure that it's dead before I tuck it back into my bra and let myself lull back onto the bar, I rest my head on my arms and look at the displays of liquor surrounding me.

I lose track of the time that passes, in my head I am just about the win the 72nd Hunger Games, it's down to me and another tribute. There's an intense fight, I wind up underneath her and she presses a blade to my throat, I get a good look at her face and see Ellie but her face doesn't stay the same. It morphs through every version of her I had ever known. When we were seven, her grunge phase, when she let me do her makeup. This is when I give up, I know I don't have it in me to kill her so I lay limp and await my fate-

"Hey," A man sits next to me, his presence stood out effortlessly. With a strong, chiselled jawline and well-defined features, his face carried an air of that old-money elegance. His hazel eyes were softened by something (alcohol, probably), drawing others into their captivating gaze. Dark, tousled hair framed his face, adding an intriguing touch of ruggedness. He is clad in a white button-up and dress pants, I can well he's a blue-collar man just from the way he sits.

"What?" I squint my eyes at him.

"You're really pretty, I thought I would introduce myself," He smiles "I'm Emmet."

"Okay," I answer turning my attention to look ahead at the liquor display, watching the way the lights shone through them. Right now I don't care to make conversation, even if he looks like Henry Cavell, I'm fighting to stay awake.

One of his bulky hands reaches for my necklace, four of his fingers are beneath the cross, pressed against it while his thumb rubs it "You're religious."

I look down where he cradles my cross and try to jerk away but my body feels too heavy "Not anymore," I mutter. I put one of my hands over his to move it off me, he takes this as an invitation to hold my hand.

Emmet brings his head next to mine to whisper in my ear "So does that mean you're a good girl or a bad girl-

"It means she's leaving, actually," Ellie pushes him away abruptly, he looks taken aback while she doesn't give a shit. She begins to gingerly help me off the stool "Do you have everything?"

"Why are you here?" I ask "I called Abby."

"You called Dina and she's on the other side of town with her boyfriend so she sent me." Ellie slings one arm around me and I sink into her immediately.

"I hate you so much," I murmur under my breath.

"Yeah, I bet you do," She is gentle with me, she's treating me like I'm made of porcelain and I'll shatter at the slightest bit of harm.

Emmet looks crazily offended, his hands up in defence "Hey, we were having a conversation-

"Borderline harassment doesn't constitute a conversation." Ellie looks like she rolled out of bed, she is in her grey sweatpants and field hockey hoodie, her hair in the low ponytail she always wore to sleep. "Are you okay?" She asks, her tone shifting from harsh to soft.

"Mhm," I ball my fist up and rub my eye, smearing my mascara when I do so, I look down at my hand and see the remnants of my telescopic mascara and silver glitter smudged on it. 

I am killing myself slowly and it is no crucifixion. 

As Ellie helps me into the back seat of her car I feel like mold is growing on my bones just to way me down to the concrete where I will surely rot. "I don't write enough," I mumble "And I'm so lonely I'm searching for god everywhere but I can't find him."

Ellie gives me a little hum of acknowledgment her eyes briefly shooting to me in the rearview mirror before looking back to the road. 

"Don't worry, I'm not in love with you anymore," I say nonchalantly as I'm sprawled out in her back seat, watching the light from neon signs pass us by.

"I didn't know you ever were." She says softly, hands on the steering wheel, she steals glances at me. The towering skyscrapers loomed like sentinels, their reflective glass surfaces capturing the myriad colours of neon signs that adorned the streets.

"I hate you," I add on. The mix of liquor and whatever drug Kayla gave me was doing me justice, I couldn't hold back any thought, they all fell from my lips in a jumbled mess. "I hope you die, I hope we both die." Ellie doesn't have anything to say to that. I think to myself that if I die in this moment, I would not be afraid, I would greet death like an old friend with a bright smile and warm hug. "I don't love anyone the way I love you," My head lulls against the window "And your girls, they all hate me."

"So which is it?" She asks, feeding into my tangent "Do you love me or do you hate me?"

"I-" I think about it for a brief moment "I hope if I killed myself everyone who was ever mean to me felt responsible." I look up slightly, using the car seats to help me steady myself "What are you doing?"

"I'm taking you home," She says, biting the inside of her cheek "What are you doing?"

"I'm waiting for god to call me back."

I ramble on and on, it's a miracle that she didn't stop at the side of the road and dump me onto a curb. The traffic lights painted the road in hues of red and green, and the city lights flickered like stars, helping us find our way home. 

"Ellie," I say, a building up ahead catches my eyes "Ellie, pull over!" She thinks I'm going to throw up so she pulls her gray sedan over, as swiftly as possible. I stumble out of the car, my stiletto heel catches the ground in a weird way, my ankle goes sideways and I fall with it.

"Shit," Ellie rushes from the driver's seat to help me sit up straight. I use her as support to pull myself off the concrete sidewalk completely and walk towards the church up ahead like a zombie "Where are you going?"

"To clean myself from sin," I approach the church and force the heavy doors open; I knew for a fact even in my state that this church had its chapel open twenty-four hours from all of the Google pins my mom sent me when I first moved here. 

The chapel's interior was bathed in a soft, ethereal moonlight that filtered through stained glass windows, casting a kaleidoscope of colours upon the polished wooden pews below. 

Smooth, cool stone formed the foundation of the chapel. The high, arched ceilings reached towards the heavens, adorned with wooden beams that seemed to cradle the sacred space below. The acoustics, shaped by the architecture, lent an echo to the moonlight whisper as if the very walls absorbed and magnified the prayers of the faithful.

Rows of meticulously arranged pews lined either side of a central aisle, leading towards the altar bathed in a soft glow. Carved with intricate detail, the altar served as the focal point, adorned with candles, floral arrangements, and sacred symbols. The air was scented with the subtle fragrance of incense, a sensory companion to the spiritual journey within.

Throughout the chapel, unlit candles are spread throughout. Above the altar, a crucifix hung solemnly, a symbol of sacrifice and redemption. Rays of moonlight seemed to converge upon it, imbuing the sacred symbol with a profound sense of grace. 

I try to compose myself the way you would a song or a speech and fall to my knees before the altar, clasping my hands together tightly. "My God, I am sorry for my sins with all my heart. In choosing to do wrong and failing to do good, I have sinned against you whom I should love above all things. I firmly intend, with your help, to do penance, to sin no more, and to avoid whatever leads me to sin. Our Savior Jesus Christ suffered and died for us. I wake young but feel as though my bones have resided on this earth for centuries."

I am at his altar but I don't feel him around me, where is his steady hand which used to guide me?

My hands grasp together even tighter "I am filthy, I'm disgusting," I choke out "I'm all used up and I need you to help me get better," I break my hands away from their position to wipe my eyes free of any oncoming tears before putting them right back "Fill me with your purity, I will be waterboarded by your sacred hand until holy water leaks from my pores."

Ellie hangs around by the entrance, sketched out by not only the creepy church but also my off-putting behaviour. She flinches at every shadow she sees, believing it to be a homeless person who was residing there for the night. I'm kneeling over in my sequin dress, one of the straps slips down my shoulder and my dress rides up, this is the most sinful I have ever been, synthetic sunshine coursing through my system.

"Make me love myself so I have room to love you," I feel so repulsive and dirty, soap and water won't make me feel clean so I'll try bleach and matches instead "I ask for Your mercy and grace to cleanse me from all unrighteousness. Create in me a clean heart, God, and renew a right spirit within me, return my family to my side."

I search for some sort of sign that he is watching over me.

Nothing.

No sign that he is here.

The priest at my old church in my hometown had said that without doubt there was no room for faith. It wasn't doubt, it was absolution, he is not here and so I unclasped my golden cross necklace and discarded it on the ground before the altar, never again will I be haunted by a man who has failed to ever show me mercy.

Ellie washes the grime off me with the detachable shower head. My hair is clipped up and I am hugging my knees, facing away from her in the bathtub. I feel a profound sense of shame and embarrassment all over again despite everything within me that is helping to take the edge off. 

She holds the shower head but looks away to give me some false sense of dignity, I cried the whole way home from the church about being filthy but with how many times I had fallen over, she didn't want me to hit my head in the shower so we settled on this.

"I'm done," I mutter and right away Ellie turns the shower off and grabs my house robe from one of the hooks on the door, she holds it up and waits for me to stand, still averting her eyes. I stand slowly, gripping onto the rim of the tub for dear life. When I slip into it, Ellie helps me move out of the bathtub and into my bedroom.

She lifts me onto the bed and tucks me in beneath my satin duvet cover. Ellie leaves for a moment but when she returns she has a bowl in case I need to vomit, a class of water, a sleeve of saltines and a bottle of actual aspirin.

"Goodnight," She begins to shut the door but I stop her.

"Ellie?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you stay with me?" My voice breaks as I say it "Just for tonight, I don't want to be alone." Wordlessly, she shuts the door and comes around the right side of my bed; Ellie is careful keep her distance from me but unlike Christmas, we face each other. "I don't hate you." I tell her because that is all I could recall saying in the car ride.

"I know."

"Do you hate me?"

"Of course not."

I don’t think I’m a whole person anymore, I think I’m made up from a dozen different perceptions of me. This version of me, born that night was anything but pure.

I am unlovely, so please, hold me gently and do not wreck me any further.

A/N: The drinking age in Canada is nineteen! They go to school in the true north strong and free. Also one more part left to go 👀

Tag list!

@elliesaturnsoftdrink @elliesaesp @melanie-watermelon @yalaysbee @laundrybag29 @readbydayana @skylerwhitwyo @lmaoo-spiderman @joliettes @kittnii @taylorgracies @sameenatruther @mikellie @belles-hell

Sorry if I missed anyone!

[naturesapphic]

if you’re accepting requests,

please could you do a Jade x fem reader where R’s thing is butterfly knives and Jade’s is obviously her scissors, they both sit at lunch talking to the gang and R does a cool trick and Rex makes some comment about her being good with her hands and Jade is like ‘oh you bet she is’ then starts heavily making out w R until everyone is telling them to stop but then Jade straddled R and that’s when everyone runs off but Cat and they part once they know everyone is gone and start to ask Cat about the fake blood they needed for a prank on Tori because she pissed them off, Cat does the “You wanted fake blood?” And Jade looks confused while R is happily like “NO WAY?! IT REAL?!” and Jade looks at her and R bows her head muttering a sorry and goes back to flipping around her knife

Thank you, you’re one of the few people on this app that do Jade one shots well so I knew you’d deliver

-Anon✂️

Butterfly Knife Girl

Jade west x fem!reader

Warnings: cussing, mentions of fake/real blood, violent, making out

The sun was out and the wind was blowing as you, your girlfriend, and the rest of y’all’s friends were outside having lunch everyday as usual. You were showing everyone your new trick with your butterfly knife and cat was amazed by it. “Yayyy! Do it again!” Cat said happily as she clapped her hands excitedly.

You give her a friendly smile and do it again as cat sits there amazed. “I bet y/n is good with her hands.” Rex said cockily as he laughs. “Rex!” Robbie shouts and you blush wildly as Jade looks over at you with a smirk. “Oh you bet she is.” Jade said with a smirk as she grabs your face in her hands and kisses you heavily. “Aw come on guys!” Andre said. “Cant the both of you do it later?” Tori pipped in and beck agreed.

No matter how many times yalls friends told the both of you to stop, jade didn’t let go of your face with her lips. Jade didn’t give a fuck and straddled your lap as your hands flew to her waist. Everyone groaned besides cat as she was playing with her fork making it an airplane. Everyone left, leaving you, Jade, and cat alone. You pulled away which made Jade pout but you quickly nodded behind her to show her that all of them were gone except cat.

Jade smiled and got off your lap but still had her arm wrapped around your shoulder. “So cat. Did you get the fake blood for the prank on Tori I’m going to do?” Jade asked cat. Cat gave her a frown and went to her side to pick up a gallon of blood and put it on the table to show her. “You wanted fake blood?” Cat said slowly. Jade gave cat a weird, shocked look but you were ecstatic. “NO WAY ITS REAL?!” You said happily until Jade looked over at you and raised her eyebrow which made you bow your head.

“Sorry…” you muttered and started playing with your knife again. Jade chuckled and kissed the top of your head gently. “No worries babygirl.” She reassured you and you looked up at her with a smile that melted her black heart. “I don’t care what kind of blood it is. I just need it.” Jade stated and cat nodded, handing her the gallon of blood. Jade smiles and places it beside her as cat gets up and skips away. The two of you sit together and finish your lunch until the bell rings. You both get up and throw away your trash, hands intertwined as the both of you head to your classes together.

A/n: thank you anon and I hope you enjoy this! #Anon✂️ and I hope the rest of y’all enjoy it too! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest. I love y’all!

[loggiepj]

To Love A Lannister

chapter 11 | chapter 12

"We shouldn't be out here alone," a girl, about twelve or thirteen years old, with black hair and yellow dress insisted in an exasperated voice. "Cersei!"

A younger version Cersei with golden hair and flowing red dress, the ends splattered with mud by the way she was running across the drenched pathway leading to the woods, only giggled as she went on. The girl was Cersei's friend from a certain noble house, who was only recently assigned to be her handmaiden.

"Why not?" Cersei asked as she climbed over a massive root of a tree until she could see the tiny wooden house with a smoking chimney from a distance. The witch's house.

"If your father-"

"He'll never know we're gone," Cersei interrupted, pulling her friend up with her from the ground.

"But if he finds out-"

"You don't need to be afraid of my father," the Lannister girl said as she shook the dirt off from her dress and observed the surroundings. She then walked closer towards the house, her curiosity at its peak.

The townspeople had warned the young girl about the infamous witch living deep in the woods near Casterly Rock, but Cersei didn't seem faze about the rumors. She had to know if the witch was a fraud or not, if the effort gossiping about her was all worth it.

The famed witch's house seemed alive from the outside, with endless smokes protruding from the chimney. She carefully approached the threshold, surrounded by herbs and plants she didn't know existed. Her hand pushed the wooden door open as she let herself in with a cautious step. Thankfully, there was no sign of any witch.

"Are you sure?" Cersei's friend whispered behind her back, hesitant on following the young Lioness.

"Yes," Cersei answered, her eyes quickly darting around the room until they landed on one large cauldron at the center, with liquids brewing inside, contents unknown of.

"We shouldn't go in," her friend warned, her eyes settling on some sharp knives laying around the table and dismembered parts of animals inside jars.

"Of course we should," Cersei replied, her fingers brushing over dusty books on the shelves. And when her eyes darted towards the dark corner, squinting at the shadowy figure she could tell looked real, she stopped walking. That shadow slowly turned into a person as it approached them closer. The light from the candles illuminated over her. The witch.

Cersei took a step back, swallowing a nervous lump in her throat. She could clearly see the witch's greasy face and sunken eyes. For any girl, they would be terrified. But Cersei wasn't just like any girl.

"Get out," the witch ordered. When the girls stayed frozen, she went on, "Get out!"

"Let's go," Cersei's friend said as she ran towards the door.

"No," Cersei refused as she stood in the center of the room facing the witch. She didn't show any fear on her face.

"Listen to your friend," the witch said as she moved towards the Lannister girl.

"They said that you were terrifying with cat's teeth and three eyes," Cersei said. "You're not terrifying. You're boring."

"You don't know what I am."

Cersei smirked. "I know you're a witch and you can see the future. Tell me mine."

The witch laughed, eyeing the girls curiously. "Everyone wants to know their future until they know their future."

"This is my father's land," Cersei threatened. "My land."

"Cersei!" her friend went on, tugging her elbow. But Cersei stood her ground.

"Tell me my future," Cersei continued, "or I'll have your two boring eyes gouged out of your head."

The witch could only sneer back as she took a small dagger from a nearby table, making both the girls flinch. "Your blood. Give me a taste."

There was a moment of hesitation on Cersei's face, before she took the knife from the witch and cut her own thumb, tiny blood painting the blade. The witch immediately grabbed ahold of her hand and tasted the substance. Terrified, Cersei pulled away from her.

"Three questions you get," the witch then said. "You won't like the answers."

"I've been promised to the Prince," Cersei began, massaging her wound. "When will we marry?"

"You will never wed the Prince."

Cersei's frown grew deeper, as she felt anger rising inside her. "You will wed the King," the witch went on, making the girl calm down.

"But I will be Queen?"

"Oh, yes." The witch laughed. "You'll be Queen. For a time. Then comes another, younger, more beautiful, to cast you down and take all you hold dear."

"W-will the King and I have children?"

"No." The girl's brow furrowed deeper.

"The King will have twenty children and you will have three."

"That doesn't make sense," Cersei spat.

"Gold will be their crowns. Gold their shrouds."

"You're only saying these awful things because I threatened you," Cersei said. "Tell me the truth."

The witch stared at her for a moment. "You will fall madly in love with someone."

The baby hair behind Cersei's neck stood as she listened.

"You'll kill for them. You'll burn bridges and castles for them." The witch then laughed as she threw dusts into the cauldron, making the contents burst into flames. "Dragons."

"Dragons?"

"You will never love anyone else," the witch went on as she began stirring the contents of the pot. "It will be the most amazing thing you'll ever feel in your lifetime. But it will also be your greatest heartbreak."

The sound of the horn from a distance brought her out of trance, the horn from the girls' guards from Casterly Rock, looking for them.

"Come on, we have to go," Cersei's friend pulled her. "We have to go! Cersei!"

~~~

"You need to sleep," Jaime said behind Cersei. "And eat."

"I've already eaten," Cersei answered, nodding towards the empty food tray on the table, before she looked back at you, laying on the bed unconscious. Your shoulders were bandaged to your chest and your face was so bruised, the skin had turned blueish green. Her hand was playing with your fingers as she waited for you to wake up.

Cersei had never felt this way towards anyone before. She had always thought her love for Jaime was what couples would define love was. But with you, it was different.

When she first met you, it had been envy. Eventually, through the days watching your cocky yet awfully kind behavior towards her and others, it then turned into infatuation. And obsession. Now, she wasn't sure what she felt towards you. It was a mixture of emotions. Fear. Wariness. Longing. Love.

She had never thought love could be like this.

Even sex before you had never been that exhilarating to Cersei. She had never reached orgasm the way she did with you, pulling multiples in one night. You had exceeded her expectations based on the rumors circulating about you, making her crave for you more.

Of course, her father would find out. There wasn't a thing her father couldn't see.

He warned Cersei, even threatened her, that involving herself with such affairs would bring downfall to their house. What would others think?

The hell what others think, Cersei thought. Out of fear, she could only nod and obey her father as she went to ignore you with difficulty. Even when all she wanted to do was be with you and in your presence. And when her son died, she thought it would be the end of the world.

Until she let herself be comforted by you. It never occurred to her how much she needed you until that day. It didn't help the fact that whatever awful thing she had said to you, her insides in turmoil watching your face accept her insults, and yet you stayed being you. You never said anything awful back to her. You never argued with her. And she wanted you even more.

When you chose yourself as Tyrion's champion, Cersei immediately went to order the Mountain to back down. However, her father Tywin had already gained Gregor's favors and Cersei couldn't do anything about it. Cersei hadn't slept well that night before the combat. And she almost went to your chambers to tell you to back out, run back to Dorne, where you would be safe.

She couldn't lose you. She couldn't bear the thought of losing you too. Aside from her children, you were the only wonderful thing that had ever happened to her.

If you were sensible enough, you would have doubts whether it was worth it, whether her brother was worth your life. Maybe she had been harsh immediately blaming Tyrion as the one who killed her son, knowing her son had made more enemies than her in his lifetime.

She thought she would lose you during the fight when Gregor had managed to pull you to the ground with him. You both knew you couldn't win The Mountain without any weapon. She regretted not kissing you before it happened. She regretted not telling you she loves you too.

She had loved you with all of her heart. And she wished it wasn't too late.

Luckily, she thanked the heavens for saving you that day, even if it would also include her own brother. You had fallen unconscious after the fight. Alive but unconscious.

She hadn't left your side since when you were being tended and healed by all the Great Maesters she could find in the Capital led by Maester Qyburn.

There was one time when she returned to your chambers and you were being tended by a handmaiden, your arm being brushed by a wet washcloth, it made Cersei's insides growl with envy.

"Leave us!" Cersei yelled.

And the handmaiden quickly left, terrified as if she did something wrong.

Cersei then grabbed the washcloth from the basin and continued wiping your body free from blood, mesmerized by how perfect your skin looked. She'd sworn not a person besides her could enter the room without her permission.

The moments she had only left you were the times she had to attend her father's council meetings. She even pretended to care Tyrion won the trial. If it would cost your life, she knew there was no way she'd ever forgive him.

She had never been kind. She had always been cruel, it was the way she was, making her think if she deserves this kindness from you. If she truly deserved you.

Jaime called, his hand on her shoulder, bringing Cersei back to the present, "Cersei. Stop this nonsense."

And when she didn't bother answering, Jaime went to touch the bruise on your face, perplexed.

Cersei immediately stood, her hand shot up to push Jaime away from you. "Don't touch her!"

She was seething. And Jaime eventually chuckled at the sight.

"Don't tell me you've fallen in love with her?" He snickered, grabbing her wrist to pull her closer to him. "Do you even know how to love someone?"

Cersei tugged away from his touch. How dare he judge her love for you?

But she couldn't help but think about how right Jaime was. She had never loved anyone before she met you. How was she sure her feelings for you were even close to love.

~~~

"The Martell house will be leaving in a fortnight once Y/n has fully recovered," Tywin said, making Cersei look at him. The lioness was in her father's small council room, discussing about recent affairs involving the new King's marriage to Margaery. 

"What do you mean?" she asked. "Are you planning to hold the marriage in Dorne? I never knew you wanted to visit such place you're being despised of."

"Oh, I completely forgot to mention it to you."

Confusion was etched on Cersei's face.

"You no longer need to marry Y/n," Tywin went on.

"What?" Cersei never knew she had ever been this devastated before.

"Or anyone at all," he said, smirking.

"Is this a trick?"

"No," Tywin said. "Y/n has offered Yronwood castle to set you free. Our Lannister soldiers can set a camp there given fresh resources. It's a perfect place to have a better view of both the Stormlands and Dorne. I think it's a wrong move on their part, giving up a part of the South just like that, no matter how small the area is."

Cersei licked her lips, trying to force a smile but she couldn't. She wasn't happy. "Why would she do that?"

"Does it matter?" Tywin asked, before looking at his daughter. "I thought you'd be happy. You won't be married to anyone against your liking anymore."

Cersei hated it. She hated how you'd decide it without her. And she'd wake you up just to scold you, she'd tell you it wasn't a wise decision, that you were always a fool and a weak person for thinking about other's wellbeing first.

But when she looked at your sleeping form still laying on your bed some time later after the meeting, she couldn't get her mouth to open. Her hand ended up caressing your cheek, as she brushed a strand of hair covering the side of your face over your ear. She understood why you had to do what you did.

She didn't deserve you. And she had been nothing but awful to you. Yet you still thought of her own happiness.

"I love you," Cersei murmured, before placing a kiss on top of your head.

Someone coughed behind her. The Queen Mother looked cautiously and realized Oberyn was standing idly, leaning against the doorway. "Your Grace."

"Prince Oberyn." Cersei's cheeks reddened as she avoided the Dornishman's eyes.

"Has she waken up?"

Cersei shook her head as she glanced back at you.

"We will be leaving for Dorne once Y/n recovers," he went on. "She is needed by her father and it has been a long time coming."

Cersei could only grit her teeth. No. Not now. Not ever, Cersei thought. Not when she almost had you.

She didn't end up saying that. Instead, she said, "Will she be safe there?"

"She is safe there in Dorne. Obviously not here in the Capital. And I believe your late son, the late King's murderer is still out there. And I'm sorry for that."

Cersei nodded as she held your hand tight, while fingers intertwined with yours. Then she looked at Oberyn. "Promise me you'll always look out for her."

Oberyn could only stare, not believing that those words came out from Cersei's mouth. The ever vicious and evil Cersei. "I will, as always."

Cersei then turned back to you as she watched you sleep, hoping you'd finally wake up.

[naturalbornluvr]

intro (again) ♡

୨୧ used to be yayobabydoll! i got termed at 10k on 9/2 </3

୨୧ my bday is april 26th 2009 so i’m 15

୨୧ i’m a girl obvi <3 she/her & i’m bi

୨୧ ♉︎☼ ♊︎☽ ♒︎↑ infp 4w5 if u care bout that stuff

୨୧ calvin gabriel’s wife

୨୧ i ♡︎ lana del rey, zero day, ethel cain, cats, baby pink, fashion, makeup, rain, my bed, music, drawing, vintage stuff, religious imagery, stuffies, vampires, cool guns n knives, my mutuals, strawberry monster, & red nail polish

୨୧ fav music : lana, ethel, jeff buckley, nirvana, hole, deftones, nicole dollanganger, jack off jill, slowdive, alice in chains, my bloody valentine, mazzy star, slipknot, katie jane garside, mitski, elita, pearl jam, phoebe bridgers, radiohead, mars argo, the cure, a$ap, amy winehouse, babes in toyland, avril lavigne, kittie, car seat headrest, cas, nin, marina, ayesha erotica, tyler

୨୧ fav movies & tv shows : zero day, the virgin suicides, american psycho, girl interrupted, thirteen, natural born killers, lolita 1997, twilight, i believe in unicorns, buffalo 66, palo alto, fight club, 10 things i hate about u, the notebook, pretty little liars, ahs, gilmore girls, skins, death note

୨୧ fav cases : columbine, the manson family, jodi arias, skylar neese, alyssa bustamante, elliot, & the academy maniacs

୨୧ warning for (probably) ed/sh/hornyposting n i js talk a lot in general lol

୨୧ i love making friends n talking to ppl so don’t b shy to dm me n send me asks :3 i also take hc reqs

୨୧ pics r not mine unless stated otherwise

୨୧ disc: velvetcrowb4r

[fairlyang]

Fun II 🕷️

ghostface!miguel having his way with you once again

w/c: 2.1K

pairing: ghostface!miguel x nerdyfem!reader

tags: 18+ smut. mention of murder, blood, knives. innocent reader, miguel is a perv, eating out, getting caught

part one

It took two full days for someone to find the bodies stacked on each other, given the frat house was huge and the guys only cleaned up the kitchen and living room.

But because the girls were in costumes and the guys told the police they had a Halloween party two days prior, it was physically impossible to find out who did it.

All they could really do was just have guards for them outside the frat house not knowing this was all done just for the killer to be with the one he loves.

And the cops specifically told them, no more parties. But what did the frat guys do anyway?

They threw a party on Halloween because of course they had to.

You were a hot mess and grieving terribly, two of your closest friends were murdered at the party they dragged you to, how were you suppose to feel?

Well according to your last remaining friend, why not go back to the murder scene for the Halloween party to have some fun?

You called her crazy to which she just waved you off and took you to a Halloween store to get a sexy costume.

You decided on Harley Quinn, with the "Daddy's lil monster" shirt and the half red half blue booty shorts. You decided to not go with the wig because they looked awful so you got some temporary pink and blue hair dye and prayed it'd be fine.

Meanwhile Miguel was preparing his ghostface attire for its final use while looking at his assortment of knives but keeping his buck 120 close to him.

It was finally time for the party, and you were all dressed up, hair up in two pigtails walking in with your friend who was in a Cat Woman outfit.

She immediately went off to do her own thing which bummed you out but there wasn't much you could do except go off to a quieter part of the house.

And with Miguel's luck he quickly saw her go into a room with a guy. Only makes his job easier.

He followed them and waited outside, just a good thirty seconds before opening the door and closing it shut before sneaking up on them already making out, somehow unaware of his presence.

He hopped on top of the bed pulled the man by his shirt and stabs him in the back. He spat out blood on top of your friend and right before she was about to scream, Miguel took the knife out and leaned forward, stabbing her tongue.

Her mouth made gurgling noises, still attempting to scream but just making herself choke on her own blood instead. He pulls his knife out and gets off the bed, stabbing boy toy once more for good measure before cleaning off his knife with the dude's shirt and walking towards the door.

He opens it and quickly closes it, before stuffing the knife into his robe pocket. He then walks off, moving past bodies in search for wherever you were hiding this time.

He walked all over the place, not finding you. He even checked off to the backyard with no luck.

He then stopped and walked over to the study room because surely there wouldn't be anyone in here.

He opens the door and of course there you were. He sighs and you look up with a puzzled expression prompting him to take his mask off, "Just me pretty girl." He says, waving his mask before closing the door shut.

"Hi Miguel!" You greet sweetly and give him a little wave.

His heart beat rapidly and he knew there was nothing from stopping him from being with you now. You could be all his.

"Abandoned again angel?" He pouts and you shrug as he walks close to you, admiring your costume.

How tightly the shirt fit and how those shorts were barely covering anything. Your thighs looked so gorgeous against that leather couch and there was nothing more he wanted them to be between them.

"Getting used to it by now." You joke making him chuckle as he takes a seat next to you.

"You look as gorgeous as ever." He says as he takes a seat right next to you, letting his leg barely touch yours.

"Thank you! Came as ghostface again huh?" You say turning your body to face him, crossing a leg over the other driving him insane.

"Yeah didn't feel like getting a new costume. What don't like masked killers?" He says as he looks at how those pigtails looked.

How pretty they would look in his hands while you su-

"I feel like everyone's a masked killer nowadays! Maybe Superman would've looked good on you." You answer innocently not thinking of how Miguel would take this compliment.

"Not as the joker then?" He whispers in your ear, wrapping his right arm over your shoulder.

You felt your face heat up as he grazed along your skin, memories coming back from the last time he caught you alone. How his fingers felt.

"M-maybe as the joker." You mumble, looking down at your boots to avoid his gaze, feeling suddenly shy and like wanting to hide.

"You're just so sweet." He whispers and leaves a soft kiss below your ear making your heart race.

"And so pretty." He murmurs leaving another kiss and bringing his left hand down to your thigh.

You gasp as he squeezes but quickly bite your lip, too embarrassed to say anything. "Y'know I haven't stopped thinking of you. I never do honestly." He admits, nibbling on your ear gently before pulling away and continuing, "but after last time it's been even worse."

"W-Why?" You stutter, eye fluttering as his left hand caresses your thighs gently while his right was trailing along your neck.

"Because I might be falling in love with you angel." He murmurs making you shake and almost let out a whimper.

His left hand was rubbing circles against your inner thigh as his right was nearing your right breast. "M-me? Why me?" You stutter and he sighs.

"It's always been you pretty girl, your friends just didn't want you near me for some reason." He says and leaves more kisses down your neck as you breathed heavily.

"S-Said you were p-picky." You mumble and lean your head back as his hands get closer to where you needed them.

"They lied." He spat before clearing his throat, "they didn't know me."

"But I'd love for you to get to know me." He says, now coming back up to look at you.

You bite your lip innocently thinking of what to say but for Miguel it only made his cock grow hard especially with the way your eyes were looking at him. God he needed you.

"What do ya say pretty girl?" He whispers, hoping for best case scenario if not he did all those murders for nothing.

You slowly nod making him grin, taking his left hand from your thighs and brings it up to cup your cheek. Your cheeks were rosy and your eyes had a new tint in them. Arousal?

His assumption was answered when you squeezed your thighs together and looked away from him. He looked down at your thighs and nearly groaned, you were already driving him so crazy. Unknowingly too.

He leans in, kissing you so gently as if you'd break if he were to full on make out with you. You kissed back and melted into his touch, practically fitting between his arm perfectly. Like you were made for him.

And as much as he wanted to take it slow with you and at your own pace he needed to taste you.

So he pulled away and let go of you making you pout, stinging his heart for a few seconds while he dropped down to his knees in front of you. You gasped as he reached up to undo your shorts with haste, "M-Miguel-"

You lift yourself up and he slides them off all the way down. He then spreads your legs apart making you whine while he salivated looking at your pair of red lacy panties. He looked up at you and you had such an innocent look on your face, almost needy.

He could tell you needed his mouth just as much as he needed to taste you. And he wasn't going to wait for confirmation.

He leaned in and left a soft kiss on your clit making you whimper and buck your hips up, poor girl already needing more.

So he gave it you.

He went down and licked up your clothed slit until he got to your clit and with a swift motion moves your panties to the side and starts sucking on your clit voraciously making you cry out above him.

He wrapped his arms around your thighs and went down to get a better taste and you were so soaked, he had barely touched you and you had drenched your panties. My perfect girl, he thought to himself as he lapped at your folds and brought a hand down to his hard on.

You brought your hands down to his hair as you felt new sensations you've never felt before and were deeply glad it was Miguel who was making you feel good.

Even after all your friend's wanting you somehow ended up with a little crush on him. Because of their words you didn't think it would ever be mutual and kept away. Clearly they lied with the way he was practically eating you out like a starved man.

Your hands gripped onto his curls while he moaned against your pussy, never having tasted anything so sweet and perfect. You tasted better than he remembered and he's happy his plan worked for the better.

"Miguel — feels s-so good-" you moan and buck your hips into his mouth.

He brings his hand to your pussy and goes back up to suck on your clit while he teased your hole with his finger. You whimpered and your poor cunt squeezed against thin air as he'd pull his finger away at the perfect moment.

"Miguel please- I promise I'll be your good girl again." You whimper making him groan against you.

Those dirty words coming from such a sweet innocent girl. He was falling even harder.

He slipped two fingers inside, your walls gripping them as he slowly pumped them inside you. "Fuck!" You cry out and lay your head back to the couch.

He then stops moving and let's you adjust as you pleased before he slowly started pumping them inside you, wanting to prep you because he needed to be inside you tonight.

He flicked your clit with the tip of his tongue while his digits started fucking you faster only increasing your moans and how tightly you'd hug his fingers. His good girl.

You let out more moans along with dirty words which only made his pants feel tighter and his pace increasing. He wanted to see you on your knees so fucking badly. You'd look even prettier with his cock in your mouth. Probably won't be able to take all of him given your inexperience but he wants to teach you and be your first everything.

He hadn't even realized how long he was thinking of everything he wanted to do with you until he felt you clenching against his fingers and you were crying out that you needed to cum.

He pulled away from your clit and murmured, "Cum for me pretty girl I've got you."

You nodded and whimpered as your orgasm hit you hard and left your entire body shaking as Miguel continued fucking your poor cunt until your creamy juices spilled out of you.

He stopped and pulled his fingers out of you slowly, and moved his head back to look at you, so pretty and breathing heavily. Poor girl.

He left a kiss to your thigh before fixing your panties when suddenly the door opens and he almost grabs his knife to throw it at whoever opened the door but opts against it. You gasped and tried to cover yourself but Miguel got you covered as he quickly sat on the couch, covering your body before yelling, "look at her and I'll kill you!"

Your poor body was so fucked out already but as soon as you heard the door shut you went back to reality. "M-Maybe we stop there." You say quietly and he turns around to look at you before leaning down to grab your shorts off the floor.

"That's alright with me angel." He says and kisses your cheek before turning back around to let you put on your shorts.

[allaboutnayeli]

stupid lil headcanons about mapi

author notes: i'm pushing out more of these dumb posts than fics but i swear fics are coming 🙏🏾 just let my mind work it's magic y'all. anyways stupid headcanons about mapi that hold no value, enjoy!

➜ mapi probably asks ingrid to talk to the waitress when she receives the wrong order. it's not really that she's scared to say something, it's just mapi doesn't want to say anything herself

➜ she probably sends ingrid stupid memes in spanish about the most irrelevant things that ingrid is always like "wtf? where did you get these from?" (she got them from twitter)

➜ doesn't care for tiktok that much but sometimes someone sends her an edit off of that app and she giggles

➜ this woman be low-key confused when the barca coach talks about the team's game plan. afterwards she always asks alexia to explain to her in simple terms

➜ we all know she had that emo phase. during that phase she still listened to a lot of spanish music (she couldn't get with the actual emo music) and used tumblr like it was god sent

➜ mapi be giggling and kicking her legs while stalking ingrid's instagram during international break. she has like a thousand photos of ingrid in her gallery, but the instagram posts just hit different

➜ double texts everything. never writes in paragraphs and she probably have many typos in her texts because she be typing at the speed of light

➜ mapi's favorite type of kisses are cheek kisses because she finds them really cute

➜ if the word clingy had a picture in the dictionary, mapi would be the photo. this woman is attached to ingrid so bad and just likes hanging off of her. half of the time she just annoys ingrid but refuses to move away when her when ingrid tells her off

➜ clumsy at the worse moments. could be holding a plate full of food and mapi is going to slip on thin air

➜ likes piggy back rides especially from ingrid

➜ mapi is the biggest cryer when it comes to movies. it could be the happiest movie ever but let one sad thing happen and she's bawling

➜ begs ingrid to do her hair in silly lil hairstyles and always talks cute selfies after

➜ a cuddle bug. not just with ingrid but also her cat

➜ mapi shall not be trusted with knives or any sharp objects, she always end up cutting herself. ingrid has to comfort her afterwards

➜ is so annoying to play against in a fifa game. she will do anything in her power to make you lose (pushing, saying the most out of pocket stuff, screaming at the top of her lungs, anything to her opponent to lose the game)

➜ dyes her hair when stressed (but don't tell anybody that)

➜ either a fun drunk or a sad drunk. depends on the day and if ingrid is around

➜ she randomly flexes in front of ingrid to try to impress her (ingrid doesn't give a fuck but gives many compliments)

➜ speaking of impressing ingrid, this woman will stop a car with her bare hands just to have ingrid give her a compliment. what can be said? #girlfriendvalidationisthebest

➜ 100% is a pouter, a whiner, a "but babeee:("

➜ the type to get a tattoo for her girlfriend and not even tell anyone until someone just notices

➜ mapi is surprisedly flexible, don't ask how she figured that out

➜ follows ingrid around like a lost puppy. she just loves her girl so bad

➜ her favorite season is summer and her favorite thing to do during summer is to go to the beach. for one, she loves to be in the water and for two, she gets to see ingrid in a bikini. a win is a win

➜ says the most random shit that pops up in her mind like "do you think dinosaurs are related to chickens? and if they are related to chickens then when someone eats chicken, are they eating dinosaur meat?" and ingrid would just be like "please just eat your food"

➜ not the best dancer in the world but no body can tell her that

➜ mapi sometimes just gets baby fever and pesters ingrid before forgetting about it then she sees a baby & the process happens all over again

➜ overall mapi is just so silly 😝

© thinkingaboutjaedyn

[xxbimbobunnyxx]

A little peak inside Weird Girl!Reader’s bedroom.

In my mind Weird Girl is obsessed with religious imagery but isn’t religious(that’s just my personal headcanon if you’re religious feel free to interpret her that way) so she has tons of crosses and angels on her walls. But most of the time they’re upside down and she’s painted blood coming down the angels eyes.

She has a princess bed for sure. Her rich grandma raised her so she has a really nice expensive bed and it’s really the nicest thing in her bed room.

She has a lot of random art she’s commissioned from different artists on Etsy and pop culture(mostly horror movie) posters on her walls.

Knick knacks. All kinds. Tiny little cat figures she’s had since she was a kid. Her doll collection. Taxidermy. She collects knives so she has tons of cool knives lying around.

Definitely has some kind of ornate extra ass bong that she keeps clean but her ashtray is always overflowing.

Pretty, billowy curtains, but blackout curtains she can pull down underneath if she’s feeling like the natural light is too much.

The first time Rafe goes into weird!girl’s room he’s like “what the fuck” but the more he gets to know her the more he understands each and every little detail. He loves your room. It’s like a reflection of yourself and a glimpse into your mind. He loves the permanent overflowing laundry pile on the little vintage chair in the corner of your room. He loves the way your bed feels like a warm hug. As hesitant as he is to admit it he loves your little bunny companion.

Rafe loves everything about you, everything he learns about you is just another reason to adore you. He loves all your quirks. Your weird little room. Your pretty little outfits that always have some kind of dark twist on them. He just loves you. His perfect little weird girl.

[lycanpunk666]

Beloved Wretch

It had been only a few days since Ezekiel had stowed away in the plane for the new season after being so unceremoniously booted off. What had he done? What was so wrong that it had caused Chris to throw him out after his worst crime may have been talking too much? He saw everyone else’s looks, too. The way that they pretended to be subtle in their bitter glares and mutters. They thought he didn’t notice. He did, but his father had always told him to hold his head high (though that may have been referring to his posture). They just weren’t cool enough for him! And Ezekiel was cool. They just couldn’t tell. Sucks to be them. The Zeek was gonna win. Even if it didn’t… look like it yet! But he will, in due time. You just wait.

But Ezekiel had grown hungry. He had been here for several days in these vents and he had quickly regretted it. He had pinpricks of light that sliced out from the vents that cut into his home like radiant knives. And he savored it. Everything else was dark. So dark that he knew his pupils were like saucers so they could take any amount of light that came to them. His cat, Jessy, did that all the time back at home when it got dark. Freaked him out a little. He knew the spelling was wrong, but he was never good at that anyway. Everyone knew what he meant, anyway.

They looked at him strange, though. Just like the other contestants did. Like he was stupid. Like he didn’t know any better.

“There’re so many ways to spell Jessie, and you had to pick the one that’s wrong. How stupid can you be?”

He wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t. He deserved to be treated like anyone else. He had a good head. He deserved to be treated like anyone else. He had a good mind.

All he needed was something to eat.

He stares through the lights in the vents, pressing his nose wordlessly as he gazed upon his fellow contestants.

They’d forgotten about him. Hadn’t they?

As those in the first class sipped what smelled like mocktail and feasted upon sweets and shrimp in glorious feats of decadents. And Ezekiel’s stomach moaned and growled. He presses his face into the vent so hard that the cutting light was literal and present upon the bridge of his nose. And he didn’t care.

He watched as one of the girls— Lindsay? sipped a mocktail, leaning against the stool at the bar as she giggled at something that new guys, Alejandro, said. He had her wrapped around his little finger with just a few compliments, and he didn’t like it one bit. Lindsay HAD a boyfriend! Where WAS Tyler, anyway? He can’t see him here, and he didn’t like what Alejandro was doing. He didn’t know his intent, but he’s seen and heard enough about this guy that he didn’t like it. Ezekiel wished he could be there. Tell him off. Would he have listened? Does it matter, so long as he was there? Was it selfish to think about it as a chance to be present rather than just helping his friend?

He watched and strained his ears to listen to the din of the cabin, and the warm ambience of light that washed into the place.

And Ezekiel felt warm tears fall upon his cheek. He didn’t feel it until he could taste the salt. First thing he’s tasted in ages.

He was crying.

He was crying, and it was all beautiful, and he was so, so hungry.

He was in hell, looking at heaven, and he ached for the companionship, for the din and the words that floated without care, for the light and the food and the warmth and everything that he saw here.

And he cried.

——————

It had been a week and a half since he entered the vents.

And something was wrong with the place. The slices of light were gone from the vents, and he was blind. He could hear, however, as he crawled upon all fours and his stomach devoured itself.

He still needed to win. And to win, he needed to live. They’d love him if he survived. He was brave.

He needed food. And he needed a shower. He was left here in the circular vents, crawling on his hands and bare feet, covered in filth that he had no choice but to keep.

And he could not hear the words anymore. The individual voices. He could hear sounds. But not words. He strained, and clawed at the walls, but nothing could be heard. He knew they could not hear him, either.

But he did hear something. The faint scratching of claws against metal.

For an insane moment, he wondered if they were his own. His nails had grown (was it right that they had grown this fast), but he had filed them down to keep them from turning into claws. He was still a person. He still had a mind.

But scratching meant rats.

And rats meant food.

——————

It was just crumbs. It was just crumbs, and they just made it worse, even when he licked the hot metal until his cracked tongue bled.

The rats themselves did not taste that bad, however.

Nothing did, he supposed, at this point.

——————

There was something inside the rat. Something rotten. Something alive. Not a disease. But not… NOT a disease.

There was something alive. And it twisted through his gut and his veins and his brain and it began to speak to him in his head in song.

Stupid beast.

Stupid, brainless thing.

They’ve forgotten you.

They wanted to, too. They hate you. Less than hate, worse yet. They feel nothing at all for you.

But don’t worry.

I do.

They don’t remember your face. Your name has not been on their tongue for ages.

But I am here. I am here to help you. And I will allow you to live. And you will be grateful for it. Beloved boy. Beloved, wretched thing.

He was scared.

But what could he do?

A voice, after all, is a voice (even if imagined).

And it was better than silence.

——————

He doesn’t know how long it’s been anymore. He doesn’t know how long he’s been blinded here. How long his eyes have tried and failed to scrape for an ounce of light and have given up. And how his body has grown… unable to scratch his way around the vents.

He collapses upon the vents, struggling to draw breath.

He can’t die.

The rats have had their fill, too, when he hadn’t gotten the chance to devour them, too (and the worms within them grow into colonies within him).

He’s pretty sure he’s entirely lost two of his toes, and half of his right ear.

It doesn’t matter anymore.

Nothing matters.

His hair’s fallen out, too, in clumps. He tried to eat that, too, but nearly choked to death from it.

He had something he wanted to do. Something that kept him here. What was it?

He can’t remember.

He can’t die.

Sniveling wretch, The voice sung. You still have food. Don’t you? You still have sustenance.

Look to your hands.

The blinded wretch cannot see them, but he looks down nonetheless.

And at last, he understood.

He sticks his thumb into his mouth. It tasted disgusting due to the level of grime caked upon it, but he didn’t care about it. He sucked upon the thing, and it brought him such a brief sense of comfort. A brief relaxation in his stiffened shoulders that brought him back to when he was small.

When he was tiny, and cared for, and loved dearly. And nothing bad has happened to him yet.

He ached for the feeling.

Do it. The worms whispered, in chorus.

Do it and feed us. Beloved wretch. Beloved boy.

There was a crack.

As his mouth filled with blood.

He would have cried if his throat were not bone dry.

If his tear ducts were not barren like a desert from all the tears he has already lost. And the worst part was that it was wonderful. Just like the rats, it was absolutely… delicious. Once he severed the bone from its joint, it made a satisfying pop sort of sound. It didn’t hurt as much afterwards. It didn’t even make him all that sick.

He was bleeding quite a bit, but he just held it against his tattered shirt.

The claw that had formed on his thumb scraped against his already-ruined throat, but he didn’t care. It was food.

It was all he could do not to descend upon another.

But the things inside his blood and stomach sang to him once again.

He doesn’t need all of his fingers, anyway.

——————

The thing formerly referred to as Ezekiel was not grateful as Chris McLean, the mad host, pulled it from its prison.

The light burned its eyes, and it could not do anything but scrape and claw, finally drawing blood as its claws dug into the mad host’s skin before being thrown into a cage.

It was provided solace briefly from the blanket thrown over the cage, despite the taunts beyond the curtain.

But it realized, just a few moments later, that it was not afforded salvation.

The curtain is taken off, and the gaunt creature with a ruined head that lulled to the side stares with the vaguest recognition towards a small… crowd.

It knew these people, somewhat.

They stared at it. Like something was wrong with it.

Nothing at all is wrong with you, beloved.

It’s like you thought.

You’re too good for them.

They gasp because they are in awe.

You are better. Better than them. Pay no mind.

The wretch’s hungry, hungry eyes glance through the onlookers as its breath huffs and wheezes pained breath from lips that have long been stained with filth and crusted-over blood.

Until its eyes once again fall onto a familiar face. Big blue eyes and long blonde hair that still shone from her meticulous care.

Lindsay.

She…

Why was she…

Looking at him like that?

A name left her lips. Confused, mostly, with pain pricking through her tone.

“Ezekiel?”

Ezekiel.

The wretch-

Ezekiel. He had a name. He had a face. He had a mind.

Barely present.

And…

Ezekiel…

Ezekiel wants to scream. He wants to yell words, to beg for mercy and forgiveness, to sob and cry for his family, his friends, for mercy! Mercy! HOPE! ANYTHING!

He reaches out. Through the bars of his cage, with his hand that barely had three fingers left, all ruined and ripped with cracked claws. And he sobs. He sobs without tears.

But he has cried so much that his tear ducts are dried, many times over. And the rancid air and dust of the vents, and poorly healed wounds, and the worms from the rats that twisted through his blood like a serpent choked out his throat and lungs in much the same fashion as a noose. And he could not speak. He roared and moaned and barked and sobbed tearlessly and breathlessly.

Like the mindless beast he was.

[workingforthewidow]

What is up bitches and hoes. Ya girl is back. And by back I mean my cat brain was able to hyper fixate on something long enough to write for it. Also I’m in my ‘final girl’ ‘slasher fucker’ era. So be prepared for some fucked up shit. I am unhinged and hot for men that wear masks and kill people and people that just kill people in general. So onto the show. This is my first time writing and posting in forever so plz be nice lol

18+

Pairings: Otis Driftwood X Stockholm syndrome!reader (darling is in so deep there’s no coming back). Reader X platonic Firefly family.

She/her pronouns for reader. I tried to keep descriptions to a minimum, did mention pulling readers hair a lot but I mean i pull my husbands hair a lot and he has short hair so yeah.

Warnings: as stated reader is in deep for Otis like so much Stockholm syndrome going on. Slight smut. I think like 1 single use of Daddy in a power play way. Reference to non-con. This is Otis we are talking about so he can be a warning himself. But also OOC Otis. His mood swings will give you whiplash. Blood. Lots of blood. Killing people. Guns used in a sexual way. Knives. If there’s any major i missed please let me know! But yeah- don’t like it don’t read it.

Word count: 4,245

God i am so feral for this man.

Also a big THANK YOU and I LOVE YOU to the person who inspired me to write again go check out their work if you haven’t: @lovely-cryptid

Ugh i am so nervous to post this but imma do it! Link to part 2

She sometimes wondered if her family even knew she was missing or that she had even left. The whole reason she was out on that lonely road was her attempt to leave everything behind, everyone behind. So in a sense she did succeed in that but this was not what she had in mind when she pictured her freedom from her mother and her step-father. She had pictured herself in a big city with a cute little apartment with big windows that looked out over a park or maybe water. She’d have a good job but nothing too fancy. Working in a bookstore maybe or a flower shop. Something where she could be creative. But this wasn’t that magical place. Not even close.

Well you could say that she got to be creative in some sense. If you count being the muse and model for an insane blood thirsty ‘artist’ as creative. Sometimes he did let her pick out some of the smaller details of his work. Like how the hair was styled if it involved a human. But for the most part she was there for him to use when he needed to take out his anger and frustration. “Fucking my pretty little princess always cures the artist block” he would say as he pounded into her without a care for how she felt. All that matter was he got his dick wet. She didn’t mind thought. It kept him happy and she loved him when he was happy. He was kinder.

She could have never imagine this would be her life when she ran out of her mother’s house a year ago. A year, had it really been a year? Was it October already? She couldn’t be too sure. He rarely let her out of his, their, room unless it was to eat at the table as a family. The last time she was able to see a calendar was in August when he took her to the ‘museum’ to give Captain Spaulding the newest exhibit.

She had to beg on her knees for him to let her come along with him. That led to him agreeing with a stipulation of course, “Already on your knees princess might as put that mouth to work. Show me how badly you wanna go.” After giving into his demands she was able to leave the Firefly house and make the trip to see Spaulding. They only stayed a few minutes. Enough time for him to set up his ‘art’ and for her to see that the calendar read “August 17” but looking back what if that was wrong? It didn’t have the year on it, that calendar could have been from 5 years ago for all she knew.

At that point she figured she might as well ask him the date. She had been good the last few weeks. He had even told her that himself. He was being nicer only calling her a slut or a whore when he was fucking her in anger. But now he was calling her sweet things like ‘princess and sweetheart’ he had even called her baby once. But Baby heard him say that and hit the fan mad. Not that Baby didn’t like her. In all fairness her and Baby had become pretty good friends. She would even dare to say best friends. When he was being nice he would let Baby come to the room and talk to her. If he was being really nice and she had been really good for him, he would let her go to Baby’s room. That was the best. Baby would do her hair and makeup and dress her up in pretty outfits. He only let her wear her tiny jean shorts, which she was pretty sure he had cut shorter then when she bought them and a shirt that barely covered her breast. During the winter he had let her wear one of his flannel shirts over her outfit after Mama Firefly got onto him when the poor girl about froze to death. Texas winters could be as brutal as Texas summers if you were in the right place.

“Otis?” She called softly from her place on the bed but then cringed when she realized her mistake. He had been working on a new ‘project’ all morning his back to her and she couldn’t really see what was being created.

“Try again Princess. Get it right or I’ll have to punish you. And you’ve been so good for me for so long.” He didn’t even turn to look at her but she knew he was smirking to himself. He always found pleasure in the little roles he had created for them. But this was no game or play that came to end. This was her life.

“I’m sorry Daddy,” Otis was sure if he hadn’t had been listening for the response it would have been too soft for him to hear. He heard the bed squeak signaling she had moved. In the corner of his eye he could see her kneel next to him and soon felt her hand on his thigh. He looked down to see her staring up at him with her big innocent eyes. His innocent little pretty princess. His naive little sweetheart.

“Good girl, what do you want?” He ran his hand through her hair once before grabbing a fist full at the base of her skull forcing her to stay looking up at him.

“Um, I, I, um. Just was wondering, what’s the date?”

“Tuesday.” Was that all she wanted. Interrupted his work for that.

“No, like what is the date? Like what month is it and the day?”

He tightened his fist in her hair making her whine at the pain “Why the fuck does it matter? Have some place to be? A hot date waiting for you?”

With tears pricking at her eyes she tried to follow his hand to relieve the pressure on her head. “No, no. I only want to be here with you. No where else. With no one else.” She made her eyes wide again trying to get back on his good side with her innocent look. He loved that look.

He loosened his grip on her hair and scratched his chin as if he had to think long and hard about the date.

“It’s October 30. Now why the fuck does it matter? It ain’t your birthday seeing as Baby isn’t fucking around insisting on a party for her little best friend. So what’s so important about today huh?” He had bent down his nose brushing against hers lips barely brushing.

“It’s been a year. A year since you brought me home with you.” She smiled. He may be mean when he’s angry but she did fell at home with him. He did care for her. He did love her. At least that’s what she told herself.

“Didn’t think you’d be so much a little romantic princess. What you want some little anniversary dinner? Think I’m gonna buy you little presents? This is your present sweetheart. You ain’t dead.” He growled in her ear and moved away from her face. “Now get back on the bed and shut your fucking mouth. I’m almost done and if you interrupt again I’ll have Tiny take you down to the basement for the night.”

Her eyes went wide in terror. She hated the basement. Tiny wasn’t bad, they had become pretty good friends. But the basement was not fun. It was dark and cold and damp. Otis had made her stay in the basement when he first brought her to the house after picking her up off the side of road where her car had ‘broken down’ aka where RJ had shot her tires out. It took her a few days to calm down and stop the kicking and screaming. It had only taken a few whips with his belt and the threats of deaths for her to finally listen to him. But she realized once she was being good that he did just want what was best for her. She saw how many girls he brought in and killed. But he chose her. He saved her and kept her safe. Kept her warm and well fed. And as long as she was good for him he was good to her.

“Yes, sir.” She responded quickly as it was a toss up if he wanted her response at all or if that itself would get her to the basement. She crawled back up the bed and laid out on her stomach facing him so she could watch him work. He was painting today.

He turned briefly looking to see if she followed his demand. Which she had, as she always did- his perfect little princess. How lucky he was when he found her. He hadn’t planned originally on keeping her but she was different from the others. She screamed sure but there was something about her eyes. He could tell she was naive but also wouldn’t mind some blood. Her eyes screamed innocence but at the same time he could tell she had seen some of the horrors of this world. He would later learn that horror of hers was from her abusive parents. She didn’t tell him outright but her nightmares usually came along with sleep talking and he had pried a lot of her in her unconscious state.

“Good girl, princess.” He praised her before turning back to his work. She did as she was told and stayed silent for the next hour while he worked. Finally by midnight he was done and she had passed out waiting for him on the bed. He grabbed her hair again and pulled her up, her hands flying up to grab his wrist and looked up at him with now wide awake eyes. “All done princess. You want dinner?”

Oh right they didn’t eat dinner. Odd, Baby normally always came to collect them for dinner when Otis was working. She knew that he would get caught up in his work and forget to feed her little best friend.

She nodded as best she could with his grip on her hair. “Yes please.” She didn’t realize how hungry she was until the thought of dinner crossed her mind.

“Come on then hurry up. Put these on.” He ordered throwing her short skirt and shoes at her. Why was he making wear her shoes? The skirt she knew, even if it barely covered her it was enough to keep Hugo off her a bit. But the shoes? She wasn’t supposed to wear shoes in the house that was one of the rules. “Mama didn’t make enough dinner for us. Seems she forgot about us. Figured I’d be nice and take you somewhere. That’s what you wanted right? Some kinda anniversary dinner?”

“If that’s what you want. I just want to make you happy.” She said slipping on her shoes as ordered.

“Of course you do sweetheart. Come on lets go.” Otis grabbed her wrist and pulled her down the stairs and out to his truck. He threw her into the passenger seat before getting in the driver side. Once the truck was started the radio came on playing her favorite Frank Sinatra song.

She gasped and smiled wide. “I love this song.” She said without thinking before clasping her hand over her mouth. Another one of his rules- Don’t speak unless given permission. She looked up at him with her big eyes. “I’m sorry I was just excited and…”

Otis moved his hand to her thigh gripping the skin so hard she knew she’d have a handprint shaped mark in the morning. She stilled and waiting for his next move.

“Don’t have to apologize for that sweetheart. You’ve been a good girl. Maybe it’s time to change the rules a little, yeah?” He smiled at her with his wicked smile that would send shivers down anyone else’s spine and pulled her closer to him running his hand higher up her thigh. “You be a good girl while we’re out and when we get home. Tomorrow I’ll think about changing your rules.”

She took a breath. He was happy with her. So happy he was going to change her rules. Maybe she would be allowed to leave the room without him. Spend more time with Baby and Tiny. Or even Mama. She loved Mama. Mama was everything she wished her mother had been.

Finally Otis pulled the truck off to a 24 hour roadside dinner. There were only a couple cars, probably belonging to the workers, and a few long haul trucks. Otis got out and pulled her along with him. Once her feet hit the ground he wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her forehead, “Be good.” It was a simple command and a simple warning. “Be good” meant not only behave in general but also “don’t you dare tell anyone what happens at home.” He had only taken her out in public once, outside of her trips to Captain Spaulding’s, when he took her to buy her new outfits for her to wear for him. And by outfits of course that means bras that barely hold her tits and panties that barely covered anything. Along with a few short skirts and shorts. He didn’t like when Hugo eyed his woman. But oh how Otis loved to see his princess dressed up for him.

She reached up and kissed him on his cheek. She knew he loved it when she showed him affection. “Of course. Always a good girl for you.” She promised him.

They made it to the door and he was even kind enough to hold the door open for her. The waitress at the counter greeted them and told them to find a seat anywhere. He found them a booth far in the corner away from everyone else and pulled her down in his lap grabbing the menu. He let her trail her fingers over it reading each line and finally pointing out what she wanted. Of course, the sweetest thing on the menu. The waitress made her way over and smiled at them.

“Y’all need a minute or are you ready to order?”

Otis tightened his grip on her waist and she knew that meant stay quiet.

“Water, coffee, bacon and scrambled eggs, and the waffles.” He didn’t even look the waitress in the eye. “Chocolate chips on the waffles.”

She must have been really good if he was letting her have sweet treats.

The waitress nodded, writing down the order, before going to the kitchen.

They sat in silence. His hand drifting up and down her leg as they waited. A few minutes go by and the waitress reappears with a tray holding the drinks and food. “Here ya go darlings. Anything else?” Otis waves her off with a huff and she retreats back to the counter where a few truckers are sitting.

He takes a slice of bacon and chews it loudly in her ear before holding a piece to her mouth. “Eat up princess. I’ve been thinking about this whole anniversary non-sense and I think if I’m being so nice getting you this food then when we get home we will play one of our little games.”

She nodded happily, giggling and wiggling in his lap feel him grow harder under her. Playing games meant he was happy and in a good mood. She let him feed her until the plates were cleared. The waitress returned at that point slapping the bill on the table before turning on her heel walking away. She obviously did not enjoy being waved off earlier.

“Did you like it Princess? Wanna come back?” Was the game already starting? He didn’t normally ask her her preferences. “I didn’t like. I don’t think we’ll be back.”

“It was okay. Not as good as Mama’s cooking.” Mama made the best waffles.

Without a word and without looking at the bill Otis stood up and started walking her to the door.

“Sir you need to pay the bill! Excuse me!” The waitress yelled from behind the counter. Otis smirked down at his girl and chuckled darkly. He then whirled around and pull his gun from his waistband.

“I don’t have to do shit bitch.” He then grabbed her hand and threw her back in the truck speeding away towards home.

He was driving far past the speed limit, as fast as a bat out of hell. She looked up at him with her big eyes then down at the gun in-between them in the seat of the truck. He had never brought it out in front of her. He liked to use his knifes, belts, or even his hands on her. She couldn’t even name a time she had a gun this close outside of being on a police officers hip.

“Not gonna fucking bite you. What the little princess never seen a gun before?” He eyes burned on her. She shook her head. “Well then Princess, why don’t we start the game now?” He grabbed the gun and pressed it against against her temple. “Open those legs pretty girl.” She did as she was told and he moved the gun down her body until it was between her legs. “You fucking get off on this and cum without permission I will blow your brains out. Don’t care how much a pretty fuck you are. Understood?”

She let out the breath she didn’t realize she was holding, “Yes.”

He slid the barrel of the gun against her folds making her shiver against the cold metal. He kept it up at a steady pace for what felt like hours but he made sure to never reach right where she wanted him. She was looking straight ahead trying to find any landmarks showing they were close to home. Right as she was about to work up the nerve to ask him, he finally hit her sweet spot. She moaned and threw her head back.

“There we go princess. Don’t forget the rules.” He moved faster bringing her close to the edge and pulling away. Finally the light of the house came into view. He stopped the truck but continued playing with her for a few minutes before pulling the gun away from her core.

He looked it over before grabbing her chin, “Open wide sweetheart. You made my gun dirty, now you gotta suck it clean. Be a good girl.” Be a good girl. Yes she is a good girl for him. She opened her mouth sticking out her tongue letting him slide the barrel into her mouth. She began licking and sucking her juices off the shiny metal when she heard a click. She gulped and looked at him to see his wicked smile. “Good girls don’t have to worry if the safety is off. And you’re a good girl right?” She nodded and continued until he finally pulled away wiping her spit off on his shirt. He then got out of the truck pulling her along with him as always. “Good girl, now you have 2 minutes to get that pretty ass upstairs and ready in our room. Wear the white.” Oh he really wanted to play today. He only had her wear a white set if he intended to stain it red. “Timer’s already started Princess I’d hurry if I was you.” He slapped her hard on her ass kicking her into gear. She darted into the house trying to be careful not to knock anything over. She reached the threshold of their room when she heard him slam the front door shut meaning she had about 1 minute left. She ripped off her clothes and threw on the first white lace bra and panties she could find. Once she was dressed she dropped to her knees sitting back on her heels, hands in her lap, looking up and waiting.

Otis finally opened the bedroom door and smirked at the sight before him. She was so pretty like that. Ready and waiting to suck his cock. He walked up to her stripping his clothes as he walked holding his belt in his hands. “Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes? On the bed arms up.”

She followed his orders and laid down arms against the headboard. She knew the drill at this point. He looped the belt around her wrist securing her to the bed. He then tied a blindfold around her eyes. This game was her favorite. She didn’t know why but he always was happier after they played this game.

A drawer opened and she heard the clicks of metal against metal. She then felt an ice cold blade against her throat. “One sound. One single sound and I will gut you like a pig. Got it?” She nodded to the best of her ability. “Good girl now be quiet.” The knife moved across her body slowly. She had yet to feel skin break. He moved up and down her arms and her legs. Around her bellybutton and traced the insides of her thighs. Then the feeling was gone. And she heard the rustling sound of clothes being thrown on and the bedroom door slamming.

This wasn’t part of the game. He was suppose to cut her, carve his name on her and lick the blood. Slice her up with tiny cuts that would bead some bubbles of blood enough for him to paint her in but not enough to kill her or even truly hurt her. But he never left before it was over. He didn’t always stay long afterwards, aftercare is not in his vocabulary but he never left before they were done.

Had he decided he was done with her? Was he going to get RJ and Tiny so they could be ready to take her body when he was done with it? Questions and thoughts started whirling in her head. Fear creeping up on her. She was alone again. She was alone and going to die. Her life with the Firefly’s wasn’t perfect but it was hers and she was enjoying it.

Tears started to slip from her eyes wetting the blindfold that had been tied to her. Maybe he was going to leave her here to starve. Let her have a final meal and then starve her. Her tears soon turned to sobs and before she knew it her breathing was getting shaky. Everything was spinning even though she couldn't see anything. Her brain was spinning it felt like. Her body was shaking violently.

“The fuck is wrong with you girl?” His voice boomed into the room and he removed his belt from her hands pulling her into his lap before taking off the blindfold. He was being oddly kind, like he was worried about her.

She continued to shake and sob for a minute before finally calming down enough to look at him. “You, you, you left. You never leave until the game is finished. Left me alone again.”

He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Someone wondered up the property Princess. Had to make sure the cops weren’t showing up. Don’t need the pigs here when I have a pretty little runaway in my bed.” Then in a rare moment, a very rare moment that had only happened once when he was drunk but she counted it because it was the only time it happened; he kissed her. Like a real kiss from someone you love not a power play. “Ain’t nothing gonna happen to you Princess. I promise.”

She wiped her eyes and looked up at him like he was the center of her whole universe, “You won’t abandon me, right?” It was barely a whisper almost as if she was unsure if she could ask.

Otis brushed her hair out of her face and kissed her forehead, “You’re mine forever silly girl. I love you.”

Those three words. The three little words he knew would hook her right in again. He didn’t have to worry about anything as long as he dangled that little carrot in front of her face once every couple weeks. He wasn’t sure if he even meant it. In the beginning he knew he didn’t but now as time had gone on he wasn’t sure anymore. Maybe this pretty little princess from the other side of Texas was changing him.

“I love you too.” She sighed kissing his neck before snuggling into him. There would be no wicked game for a few hours. He would be kind. He would let her sleep next to him. Let her snuggle up on his chest while he played with her hair. Let her have a few hours where they played like they were a normal couple, just a man and his girl sleeping the night away.

But Otis Driftwood was anything but just a man. He was different and he knew it. But she was different too. Maybe she was meant to be here. Meant to be his girl forever. But that was a problem for another day. A day when he was 7 beers deep and didn't have to think too hard.

“Goodnight Princess you can sleep now. I ain't going anywhere. And when you wake up, I’ll let you go to Baby’s room.” He kissed her hair again and moved them down on the bed throwing the blanket over them.

[princncess]

Yay pinned post with limits and stuff time~ may change this later if I remember more stuff

20, she/it, bi les, cat object corpse girl

Feel free to dm or send asks about literally whatever! I love interacting and I promise a random dm won't bother me whether you're sending death/rape threats, asking about a kink I haven't listed, or just saying hi! (though i have a lot and chances are i wont get to you at least for a while)

Into (within fantasy, my irl limits differ but none of you know me irl so that doesn't really matter): CNC*, many kinds of masochism, being snuffed, gore (basically no form of bodily harm is off limits unless elsewhere specified), somno, kidnapping/captivity (short or long term), breathplay, too big insertion, despair/sad stuff, bondage, degradation, musk, temperature (incl. fire), starvation, electrocution, war stuff, knives and guns (both as threats and actually used), abuse/trauma stuff, manipulation, empty spaces, fear, stalking, home invasion, objectification, death/rape threats in my asks, drugging, most titles, [not sure how to describe this one, but like... exertion/exhaustion play? like making me run for a long time or hold something up for hours]

A little bit into (restrictions specified): emeto (the fluid itself isn't anything to me, but getting it out is nice in some situations), petplay (not really as an animal, but more the ownership/inferiority feeling), non cnc stuff (I don't dislike it, but it's just not as fun as cnc. Whatever the non cnc idea is, it better be really good) piss (it's good, just not as the main course- good for degradation)

Not into: Scat, ageplay/abdl, incest, mommy kink/title (I'm ok with calling someone daddy tho), appearance based degradation, raceplay, feet, detrans/misgendering (i will misgender you tho, and it goes in the tag #misgend), chastity

*In character, I will not "actually like it deep down" or anything like that. Feel free to accuse me of it, but it won't be true. I prefer to hate it the whole way through, only despair for me. That said, forced pleasure/orgasms are nice. Also, you can totally force me to pretend to enjoy it.

I won't send you pictures, but feel free to send them to me

Feel free to interact no matter what gender you are, sometimes I reblog stuff that has "men dni" banners attached but those don't come from me, idk how to take them off

Feel free to interact if you have kinks I don't like

Since everyone keeps asking, I put sex and violence tags on everything I post, since usually that’s what it is. No need to be upset with staff about it if it’s my post

everything on this blog is fantasy between consenting adults

#princncess writing for my longer stuff

[hunnylagoon]

Right Where You Left Me

Pt 2: Jailbird

Ellie Williams x reader

I want to write a poem about you but I’m afraid it won’t be enough. I almost feel ashamed that I want you to fit into a word because we both know that you are beyond anything that can be put on paper.

Premise: You and Ellie were childhood friends before you drifted apart. Funny thing about soulmates is that they tend to find there way back to each other. While you both visit home for winter break, events unfold and it is no longer possible to avoid each other.

Warnings: Angst / homophobia / brief violence / reader has religious issues

Part one here!

Part three here!

Part four here!

I may have been wrong to say that I could never hate Ellie. Fuck she was vicious, in the most passive-aggressive way too. She's so sly about it that I can't even get mad without seeming irrational.

Winter break finally rolled around and I had yet to make any progress with Ellie it was whatever the opposite of progress is. If she wanted to hate me, that was fine, I could do the same, I could be petty. It's now December and all of this bullshit started in September, she could hardly be courteous.

Fuck her.

I had survived mid-terms and finals but the way Ellie was acting had me skipping happily towards the edge. She will wash a whole sink of dishes and leave just my fork, or Venmo request me if I ate one of her grapes. Everything had gotten worse when Dina, Abby, and Cat all left to visit their families for winter break leaving just Ellie and I, without the girls there to hold us to the house rules we were at each other's throats.

She was foaming at the fucking mouth to tear me apart. There was no level-headed Abby or fun-loving Dina, not even Cat who was just mellow. Just me and Ellie verbally abusing each other. "Fuck off, with your wild animal teeth," I spat, slamming the dish cupboard closed with a loud thud.

"Wild animal teeth?" She repeats "Wow, you're getting creative, I'll give you that," Ellie's gaze held a certain bitterness "Heard you were on your knees again last night and I don't mean praying."

My eye almost twitches at her words and it takes everything in me not to throw a ceramic bowl at her. I hated her, I hated her freckled face, and eyes as sharp as knives, just hearing her raspy voice, and seeing her sardonic smile made me want to keel over and let the earth wrap me in her flourishing greenery. I often wanted that to happen. I was trying to refrain from going home as I didn't want to spend the entire break with my family but I was starting to think nothing was better than this, I was set to leave the following day (Christmas Eve) anyway but I was seconds away from grabbing my bag and jumping into my car. "Can you just learn to be fucking civil?"

"Why would-

"Because we were sixteen years old when that stupid shit happened!" I spat "You're holding a grudge from when we were sixteen," I reiterated, searching her features for some sign that I'd gotten through to her.

"It's not like you've changed since any of that happened." She stands, unnervingly calm on the other side of the kitchen island. "You were always awful since we were young, always crying, always emotional, always explosive, my dad said you're like a birch tree, one spark and you burst into flames."

"Fuck off."

"You always had to have the attention," Her eyebrows furrow "Nothing was your fault, blame being fucking erratic and insane on your parents."

"You don't know my parents half as well as you think you do."

"What don't I know about them? They've been in my life as long as you have."

"Ellie, stop," I say, suddenly I'm taken away from the mood to fight, I just want to scream into my pillow.

"What?" She asks "You're going to say some shit like 'they aren't loving'  or 'you wouldn't get it' Please, enlighten me, what wouldn't I get?" She moves closer just an inch or so "Wow, your life sounds so hard, you have two parents who love each other and a huge fucking house, oh shit," Sarcasm drips from her tone "Maybe it's that trust fund that's taking a toll on you."

"Please, stop."

"You could commit every crime known to man and you would still be their pride and joy, there is nothing you could say or do that would make them hate you-

"Here we go with your 'life is so fucking hard and I'm edgy and indie and I have a sad backstory that I'll bring up every second sentence even though I was seven when it happened' " I mock her.

She bites the inside of her cheek and I can tell that I've struck a nerve "You know when my lease-

"Don't even worry about it," I move out from the kitchen and begin towards my room, Ellie's eyes are trailing me "The minute my lease is up, I'm packing my shit and moving into student housing so I won't have to look at your fucking face while I'm eating!" I slam my bedroom door behind me.

I left that night, I couldn't bear the sound of her guitar strums, so repetitive it made me want to slam my head through the drywall.

You better believe that I cried my entire way home while blasting Julien Baker. My mother was pleasantly surprised to see me at her doorstep a day early, I knew Ellie would be coming down sometime tomorrow to spend the Holidays with her family, I didn't know when, I just knew that I didn't want to see her.

I never even told my parents that Ellie was my roommate and they hadn't heard it from Joel as they drifted when Ellie and I were fifteen.

My bedroom was exactly how I left, I cuddled into my twin bed that night sinking into the absolute silence of the the snowfall, with my dog Dusty curled at my side. I always loved the snow, the way it acted as soundproofing for the earth, when I was little I would just sit in the backyard so I could hear the birds sing in their purest and truest form.

Christmas Eve was dull to begin with, to say the least; my mom made Christmas tree-shaped waffles as she did every year, I was then dragged to an excruciatingly long church sermon. When we returned home I was sent to shovel the driveway, turns out visiting home from college doesn't excuse you from chores. I knew Ellie had arrived when I saw her grey sedan in Joel's driveway as well as Tommy's Range Rover. Bundled up in mittens and a hand-knitted scarf that Naomi gave to me I felt really tough giving the middle finger to Ellie wherever she was in Joel's house.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Elijah was cackling in the doorway. Dusty I happily bounding through the snow, paying to mind to my brother.

I immediately dropped my arm, trying to play nonchalantly "Uh, shoveling the driveway?"

His laughter only grew "You look so stupid," He huffed between cackles "You're standing in a foot of snow in the driveway giving Mr. Miller's house the middle finger in your cute little mitts."

"Say that louder, no one could hear you," I say, sarcastically.

"Hear ye, hear ye-

My eyes go wide and I drop the shovel to form a snowball and deck it at my brother "Shut up!"

"Ow!" He flinches, and his track and field hoodie from high school is now covered in powdered sleet. "Whatever," He yanks his hoodie off to shake the snow off of it "Just finish the driveway so we can watch a movie or something, I haven't seen you in months, Naomi and Aaron haven't shut up about you all holiday break."

I give him a mitted thumbs up before I try to speed run the shovelling, albeit slipping on black ice more than a few times. When I came back inside, I needed to change, my parka was dripping with snow that had melted into water.

I bundle up into sweatpants and an old soccer t-shirt. Being in my old room digs up memories pinned on my wall with bright thumbtacks year after year of photos of my soccer team, in every single one Ellie and I have our arms slung over each other. We're smiling wide and not focusing on the camera but on one another. I tear the picture away from the thumbtacks and throw them into a random shoe box that sits at the bottom of my closet. After that, I take down every artifact I have of Ellie, the drawings she made me, drafts of songs we wrote together, and t-shirts she left in my drawers, I throw it all into a Rubbermaid storage bin.

Though I leave the little wood carvings that Joel made for me alone.

My family's famous Christmas Eve dinner rolled around and I couldn't believe how excited I was, I'm not the best cook and despite me and my mother going through spats every other day, she was one hell of a good chef and I had spent months craving her honey roasted carrots and creamy mashed potatoes.

Please don't judge me when I say this, but we are the family that dresses up for dinners at home. Nothing black tie, just something a little dapper, one time I wore jeans to our family dinner and I was grounded for a week.

I finished zipping up my white sundress and I let my little sister tie a matching bow into my hair, when she saw what I was wearing she changed into her white dress which was ankle length while mine fell right above my knees.

"Oh, my sweet girls are matching again," My mom fawns over us "Let me get a picture of this cute little moment," I smile for the picture, and Naomi does the same, hooking an arm around my midriff. "Adorable," Mom looks at the picture before tucking her phone into her pocket "Now girls, please set the table."

Even though I hadn't been at home for months, setting the table was like muscle memory to me, Naomi put the placemats down, and then I did the dinner plate and salad plate, Naomi would place the napkins and cutlery then I would set glasses and pour everyone water from the pitcher. By the time we finished setting the table everyone aside from my mother and Elijah were at the table, early awaiting what was sure to be a filling dinner.

Slowly but surely my mom brought the dishes with Elijah, placing them all through the center of the dining table. After everything was placed my father, who sits at the head of the table cleared his throat, that was his signal for everyone to join hands. "Dear God, We gather today with grateful hearts to thank you for this food before us. We appreciate the effort and resources that have provided us with this nourishment. May this meal sustain our bodies and remind us of the many blessings in our lives. We are thankful for the love of family and friends who surround us and for the abundance we enjoy. Bless this food, our time together, and those who prepared it. May it strengthen us physically and spiritually. This is your body, this is your love. We thank you for feeding us with your gracious hands. In Jesus' name, we give thanks and pray. Amen."

"Amen," My family repeats before we all ravishingly fill our plates with chicken, maple-roasted mushrooms, buttered green beans, bread rolls, and mashed potatoes. I was eating so fast, I was shocked that I didn't spill anything on myself.

"So, have you met any cute boys at college?" My mother asks me, she is the only one eating politely "I'm sure you could get a real smart guy with those looks of yours."

My father nods "Just make sure he's Christian."

"Or catholic," My mother adds.

I laugh awkwardly in response, I take a sip of my water, the condensation making it slippery in my hands. Elijah gives me an odd look that goes unnoticed by my parents.

"I think we should drop off some bread or cookies or something to the Miller's, just something to say hi while Tommy and Maria are still there." My mom tells us, she isn't speaking to anyone in particular.

"Is Ellie there right now?" Aaron asks.

Elijah shrugs "Probably, her car is in the driveway."

Now Naomi is looking at me "We should invite her over for New Year's or something if she's staying for the rest of break."

My dad shakes his head "I don't know if that's a good idea," All eyes fall on him "It's just- I think she's a bit of a bad influence." He takes a swig of his wine and attempts to suppress a burp but fails. I press my lips into a thin line and look down at my plate to hold in my laughter, Elijah does the same beside me.

"I don't remember Ellie being a bad influence," Aaaron furrows his eyebrows, racking his brain to think of a time that she had done their family wrong.

"It's just that there were rumours of her having-" My father searches for the words "Unnatural tendencies I suppose, and I tried to talk to Joel about it but he got defensive and said that she didn't need fixing, that's how I lost my best fishing buddy."

My mom looks at the discomfort on all of her children's faces "I mean, we all need a bit of fixing."

Dad is quick to catch on "Oh, yeah, of course, I mean it's not just Ellie," He fumbles over his words "And it's not her fault that she's that way, I think It's because she lost her mother when she was young so she got confused about the parental roles, Joel never remarried and he didn't date around much so Ellie didn't have a proper mother figure, it's not her fault she's a dyke and there's still time to fix it if she wants to choose the right path."

Stillness falls over the table, I had never heard silence quite this loud. Even my mother is at a loss for words. All of my siblings are darting our eyes at one another, we don't utter a single word but we understand each other clearly 'Dad actually said it'.

He noticed this and tried to backtrack on his words "I'm not a bad guy, I mean we've all read the bible cover to cover, we know it's a sin. I'll wrap this up, you all know that we love you no matter what and all I'm saying is I'm glad we could distance ourselves away from it."

"Hey Dad, did you watch the Canucks game last week?" Elijah swoops in to change the topic. It's too late, a wave of sickness has already overtaken me.

While my family discusses nothing in particular, trying to ignore what Dad said, I am sick to my stomach, I push my plate away and prop my elbow the the table for my hand to support my head. I am nearly shaking. My dull eyes peer across the table and meet my father's drowsy gaze.

"Honey, are you feeling alright?" My mom pauses whatever conversation she is enwrapped in.

I don't respond, I don't know how.

My family's eyes find a resting place on my figure. Mom pushes herself away from her chair and walks over to me, she places one hand between my shoulder blades, the other takes my cold hand and she slowly rubs a circle on my back to comfort me. "Sweetness, whatever is repressed inside, say it, let it out, we're all family."

Naomi nods in agreement, her wide eyes full of concern. "I don't know how to say it," I tell them.

"Air it out," My dad says, finishing off his glass of wine and pouring himself another "Today is the perfect day, tomorrow is the birth of Jesus, a fresh start."

My heart is racing faster than it ever has before, faster than when I broke my wrist in Ellie's backyard or when I had been on a rollercoaster for the first time. "I like girls," I say, my voice is quiet, and my three words take my family with silence. My mother freezes and takes a step back, her comforting hands leaving me.

"You're joking," My dad scoffs "Tell me this is a joke and you're normal."

"I can't," My voice cracks and I can already tell that the tears are oncoming. I think briefly back to Ellie's words 'There is nothing you could say or do that would make them hate you' if only she could see what was about to happen.

"All of those sleepovers with Ellie?" He is disgusted, his face contorting with horror "Were you dating her?"

"no-

"How can I believe anything you say, you lied to us for nineteen years when you knew you were sick."

"Dad, I'm not sick-

"How many sinful acts have you done under this roof?"

"None, I swear," I shake my head, it took less than a minute for me to be filled with regret at my words. I shouldn't have even come home for the holidays, actually, I never should've found Dina's listing and jumped at the deal.

"Get out," Any light tone in my dad's voice is gone, replaced by pure resentment.

"What?"

"You heard me, get out."

"Dad, it's Christmas Eve-

"Get out!" His voice rumbles through the dining room like thunder "I thought we fixed this phase when we sent you to boarding school."

"Please, dad-

"Get up and get out or I'm going to make you,"

"Fine- make me," Tears prick in my eyes but I cross my arms trying to muster up that false coolness Ellie is so good at feigning.

My dad slams his glass down so hard that it shakes the table, and the partially empty wine bottle my parents had been nursing all night is knocked over by the abruption, tipping over the deep red liquor to travel down the tablecloth and drip onto what was once my pure white dress. "Get up!" He grabs a fistful of my hair and I scream from the shock of pain. He yanks me off my chair and my face slams against the hardwood when his arm slumps, impact heavy from the sudden drop, it doesn't take long for my nose to start bleeding. He drags me to the door pushing it open; my siblings don't do anything they're petrified in horror and my mother begins to cry, covering her eyes from the scene before her.

My dad doesn't stop at the door, I thrash on the ground and he pulls me over both of my hands trying to pry his away from the roots of my hair, he drags me into the snow, finally releasing me. I shake as my hand gently finds the way to my burning scalp where I fully believe he has pulled out clumps of my hair with his harsh and unforgiving grasp.

From the doorway the rest of my family watches, Naomi has a hand covering her mouth her doe eyes brimming with tears of her own. My father disappeared into the house, it didn't take long to see what he was doing he slammed the window to make the bedroom open and began to throw all of my belongings out of the window. My pictures, my old soccer uniform, armfuls of clothes from my old beaten dresser, candles, books, paints, and shredded posters were torn straight off my wall.

"Dad, stop, I'm sorry, I'll get better!" I am on my knees, hands clasped together pleading with him. My skin is burning from the contact with the snow, I know that it must be a horrific sight to behold. White sundress, stained with wine, tangled hair, red-tinged skin, puffy eyes and incoherent sobs.

The snow makes everything so quiet the only sound travelling through the night are my sobs. I can no longer see my father in my bedroom, he is coming back down and somehow that is worse, he pushes past my family and throws the presents I was supposed to receive on Christmas morning beside me, I flinch at the movement.

"I'm sorry!" I plead like I'm bargaining with the Grimm Reaper for my life "Give me a job and I'll do it, just tell me what to do to get better!" The screaming carries through the night, alerting the neighbours in what was supposed to be a calm and quiet neighbourhood. Across the street, Joel turns on his porch light, squinting his eyes at the scene on the opposing lawn and trying to make sense of it. "I want to get better!" I shake with every sob. I could hear my dogs barking from the loud noises.

My dad shakes his head "You're too far gone, I didn't raise a fucking dyke," He is almost crying himself, he doesn't mourn for the daughter that he has but the daughter that could've been. The daughter who donned white every Sunday for church and settled down with a nice family man, a daughter who was holy but in this moment I am the purest form of holiness, born again from the violence of my father.

"Dad, I was created in God's image, why would he create his child to be this way if it was so wrong?"

"You're a fucking mistake is what you are," He seethes "Get off my property or I'm calling the cops."

"You still have my bags!" I scream and I watch him retreat to get them "Are you going to do anything at all?" I search my family for any sign of life but they all avert their eyes from mine. My father comes back out, and he throws my purse and suitcase on the lawn, this time both of them hit me, talking about kicking someone when they're down.

My dad begins to usher the family inside "I never want to see you again, get your ass up and start working, I'm not paying for you to fuck around with women instead of getting an education."

"That's it?" I cry "You won't come to my wedding or meet my kids? What about my funeral?"

"Not as long as you're with a woman." With that, he slams the door behind him and locks it. I let out another guttural sob, I've already cried so much that it's beginning to hurt within my stomach. I take a deep and shaky breath in, wiping the tears away from my eyes with my freezing hands, I'm sure to catch hypothermia if I don't warm up. I look up to see my neighbours all around either watching from their window or in the Miller family's case, the front porch. I'm sure that someone has already called the police.

"Let me in, I'm sorry!" I scramble off the ground and begin to bang on the door. Shaking the handle "Let me in!" This goes on for longer than I would've liked, I hammer on the door and scream as loud as I can but they all ignore me. Eventually, I stand by the window and slam my hands on it "Let me in or give me my fucking dog, you can't take care of him!"

I knew I was fucked when I heard sirens. It only made sense for the neighbours to call the cops at this disturbance.

I'm going to do you all a favour and tell you some useful information; when the police arrive and you don't wanna seem guilty, don't try to drive away from the scene because you might just end up getting handcuffed and shoved into the back of a police car for your childhood bestfriends family to watch from their front row seats.

"Prison life isn't for me," I wallow as I press myself against the bars of the holding cell. There are two other women in the cell with me and they both snigger. One of their names is Lucia, and she has bronze skin and brown hair so dark that it almost looks black with gold hoop earrings the size of my head, I don't know the other woman's name but she looks significantly older and has stringy blonde hair, the wrinkles of her face drooping.

"Honey, this isn't prison, you'll live another hour," Lucia sits on the uncomfortable bench, her arms crossed, she's kind of hot to be blunt.

"You reek of liquor though," Blondie cackles and I catch a glimpse of her rotting yellow teeth, what's the opposite of pearly whites? Golden nuggets? Something like that.

"Because I got wine spilled on me," I retort. I had been crying before they even placed me in the cell, wailing so loud that I was annoying the officers. I was so upset and starved for affection that I hugged the officer who detained me, babbling incoherently about how my life was ruined, I don’t even blame them for arresting me, I looked like a crackhead trying to break into a nice suburban home. “I'm not drunk."

"Could've fooled me," Lucia smirks, she's wearing a black tank top and skinny jeans. I wasn't a fan of skinny jeans but she was converting me.

I fell asleep hugging myself on one of the uncomfortable metal benches with chipped blue paint, when I woke up, it was Christmas, even though it didn't feel like it. I saw the snowfall outside of the windows on the other side of the cells. Lucia had told me just before she was released that they had the right to hold you longer over holidays, I wanted to weep all over again.

Blondie got removed from the cell too and I was all alone. The only thing that kept me sane was pretending I was Katniss or Lucy Gray, if they had survived the Hunger Games, I could survive this. I genuinely thought my life was over and I was getting sent to prison for hammering on my dad's door and screaming.

With each hour that ticked by, my profound sense of loneliness only grew. The sounds of distant laughter flitted through the hall and I am reminded of the world that lies beyond the metal bars. I wonder what my family is doing at this moment, every voice that I hear acts as a reminder of the love I had jeopardized. I lost Ellie, I lost Conner, and now I had lost my family.

I think about praying to god for a moment though I discard the thought. If he was real why did he let that happen to me? Maybe forgiveness and redemption were not necessary.

"Crybaby, call someone to pick you up," Officer Reid who initially arrested me and interrogated me began to unlock the cell, "Charges are dismissed." He had been calling me Crybaby since I was stuffed in the back of the police car and wailing uncontrollably.

"Like for real?"

He was in fact, for real. I was brought to a landline phone and my hands acted faster than my head, dialling the number of someone I would trust with my life, I just prayed that the number hadn't changed.

After making my call I was told to go to a weird booth thing to collect my effects, where an old and very judgmental woman dumped my few belongings out of an envelope. I wish I knew the technical names for this stuff but it's not like I've been arrested before this one off occasion. She looked at each of the items, stating what it was while she took inventory of it. "Smartphone, lipgloss, a single gold earring, and a cross necklace," She marks something down and then turns the paper around and holds out a blue pen for me to take "Sign here."

My phone had died already, I was missing an earring, and the cross had failed me, all I had left to rely on was my cover girl lipgloss. I sat in that stark grey room for what seemed like hours, everyone seemed miserable as I am, at least I wasn't the only person having a not-so-merry Christmas.

Holy shit, I was still disgusting. I was sticky and freezing, still in the wine-ruined white dress, there was still dried blood on my face despite my pestering Lucia to help me get it off. My hair is tangled, the bow that my sister had tied in lost somewhere in the snow. I haven't looked in a mirror but I know I look rough from the side glances that everyone is casting me. I can't imagine the dark bags beneath my red, puffy eyes to be any sort of appealing.

The sterile waiting room is beginning to get on my nerves, I flinch at every movement and hold onto hope that every person walking through the door is the person I'm waiting on. I try my best to avert my eyes from the clock so time doesn't drag on any longer than it already is.

By the time Joel gets here, the sun is beginning to set, his eyes frantically search the room until they land on me, I'm already standing up and walking toward him. "Kiddo, are you okay?"

My lip quivers and it feels like every awful thing I've ever felt is going to seep through my teeth. My head falls onto his chest but this time I don't cry, I think I've run out of tears "I have nothing ahead of me."

Joel doesn't ask questions, he just hugs me in return, resting his chin on the top of my head, there is the comfort I had been so desperately searching for.

He signs release papers and he guides me to his red Ford Explorer. When I called him I asked him to bring me shoes as I was barefoot when I was detained, being the number one dad that he was, he brought a reusable grocery store tote bag, containing a hoodie, sneakers, fuzzy socks, sweatpants and a bag of my favourite chips. I slip the sweats on underneath my dress while the hoodie goes overtop, I awkwardly unzip it and shimmy it off, stuffing it into the tote bag.

The drive back to his house begins and he turns on the radio, trying to make lighthearted chatter "Thanks for coming to get me," I say, my voice is quiet and I pull my knees to my chest like as I tend to do when I get nervous "You can just drop me off at my car and I'll be out of your way."

"Sorry, kiddo," He says, eyes focused on the road "You're staying with me tonight, I don't want you driving these roads in the dark and it'll be good for you to have a hot shower and a warm meal, get some sleep somewhere that's not a holding cell."

"It's just that-

"If you still want to leave in the morning that's up to you but you shouldn't end your Christmas alone," Each word seems so genuine "And you know I would gladly have you stay with me three hundred and sixty-five days a year."

I look at him, a soft melancholic smile on my face, "Thank you," I say.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

A sigh falls from my lips "What happened to all of my stuff that was left on the lawn?"

"Tommy and Ellie brought it all inside."

Ellie brought it back inside? Did she actually give a shit or was this something her dad ordered her to do? "Did my dad say anything to you?"

Joel shakes his head "Maria went barging on his door, those two were in a screaming match for a good two minutes before he locked the door on her. Hasn't been outside since, everyone in the neighbourhood has been coming by to ask what happened."

"Even Sharron?" I ask Joel, wrinkling my nose in distaste.

"Even Sharron," He solidifies. Sharron was the grouchy crone of the street, shutting down every party, cussing out teenagers from her porch, and yelling at barking dogs "She said she was worried about you." The windshield wipers painted rhythmic patterns across the glass, clearing a path through the soft snow that continued to fall.

"She's not worried about me, she's worried I'm on drugs and I'll break into her musty home to steal all of her hummels."

Joel huffs a laugh "I can't believe that I used to let her babysit you and Ellie."

"Me neither, you should be paying for my therapy." I tease.

He chuckles at my words, "So you're majoring in wildlife biology?"

"You remembered what I wanted to major in?"

"Of course I did."

"Hey, Mookie!" Tommy wraps his arms around me the moment I set foot in the door. He's called me Mookie since I was a little girl, it started when I couldn't pronounce monkey and thus Mookie was born. "Let me get a good look at you," He pushes me back just the slightest hands clasped on my shoulders "Look at that bruise you've got on your cheek, looking awful tough, like those greasers you used to read about."

"Look at that, Mookie grew up," Maria greets me with a warm smile, pushing Tommy away to hug me "Good to see you made it through prison alive," She jests.

Joel's house is exactly how it was when I left.

The air carried the familiar scent of firewood and lavender incense. In the living room, an inviting fireplace stood as the heart of the home. Its gentle crackle and the dancing flames provided a soothing backdrop to the overstuffed couches adorned with cozy blankets and throw pillows, worn from years of shared family movie nights. A well-loved rug covered the wooden floor, its pattern a mosaic of memories and spills easily forgiven and of course, a coffee table hand-crafted by Joel and intricately carved.

The shelves lining the walls were a treasure trove of family history. Photographs in mismatched frames captured smiling faces frozen in time, chronicling the evolution of Ellie through the years. A collection of well-read books, their spines creased and pages worn, stood proudly, offering a glimpse into the literary adventures that had unfolded within those walls.

The kitchen, the heart of many childhood homes, held the lingering aroma of Christmas dinner. The countertops, scarred from countless meals prepared and shared, were a testament to the love that had gone into creating family dinners. A worn wooden table in the center of the room bore witness to the countless conversations, celebrations, and moments of solace shared over shared meals.

"You know what, when I was around your age, I spent my fair share of time in the cooler, good to see you're taking after me," Tommy winks and gives me a hard pat on the back. Neither of them acknowledges the reason behind last night's events and somehow it feels worse than talking about it.

"We've just finished up making dinner, I'm sure you're hungry," Maria smiles softly, taking my hand into her calloused one.

"Yeah, I'm starving," I smile in return and trail behind the blonde woman to the dining table.

All of the plates are laid out with portions of food on each one, Ellie is sitting alone, spooning mashed potato into her mouth while she texts someone, she glances up at me and offers nothing more than a tight-lipped smile and awkward wave before going back to her phone. Tommy comes by with a tray of garlic butter rolls and uses tongs to add more onto my plate "Don't think I've forgotten how much you love these."

I grin up at him, I'm sitting in the same chair I sat in all those years ago when I Ellie and I would settle down after spending all day in the sun, Joel would ask us what we wanted for dinner and almost every time we would shout hotdogs.

"Good to have you back," Joel nods to me "House always felt a little empty without you."

I always felt a little empty without this house "Good to be back," I smear some mashed potato onto Tommy's famous garlic butter bread rolls.

I feel almost sick with nostalgia as I look around the dining room, Joel still had Ellie's crafts from elementary school hung up and if you look closely, you find little clues that I've left behind; proof that I once existed as a girl beneath this roof. There's a dent in the wall from the time I stood on my chair to catch a spider and accidentally fell over, my head hitting right into the wall, Ellie was laughing too hard to help me.

"So what school do you go to?" Maria asks me, washing down her pot roast with some ice water.

"Northridge actually," At my words, Ellie's head perks up, she's looking dead at me with a look of fear in her eyes.

"Oh, Ellie goes there!" Tommy smiles "She never mentioned that you do too."

Ellie is silently pleading with me, I know she doesn't want me to tell her family that she's been borderline tormenting me as my roommate and sending me to bed with tears in my eyes. I didn't plan on telling them anyway "That's funny, I guess we just keep missing each other."

Joel set up an air mattress in Ellie's room, that's when it became clear to me that he had no idea just how bad the fallout was between us. I hate to say that I missed her room and all of the memories we shared in it.

Ellie's bedroom resembled something of a teen guy who'd never gotten laid before. She had a navy comforter, her shelves were lined with comics and novels, I know for a fact that she'd read every single one of them. Her desk was always a mess, covered in pages of poetry and sketches that she had torn out from her journal. Almost every inch of her walls is covered in posters of bands, movies and her nerdy video games.

I was fresh out of the shower, finally in my clean clothes that I had dug out of my suitcase. I got to charge my phone too, there was an overwhelming number of messages.

D-Manz: HAPPY CHRISTMAS BITCH!!!!!!!!! I LOVE YOU AND CAN'T WAIT TO PARTY WHEN WE GET BACK

Jesse: Merry Christmas, hope your day isn’t shit! 😁😁😁

Riley: Merry Christmas! Hope you're having fun at your new school!

Abs: Merry Christmas and stay safe!

Kayla: Missing you girl ☹️ so excited for that staff party!

Kit-Cat: Merry Christmas, don't have too much fun without me

Yara: Merry Christmas ❤️ this probably isn't the time but I was hoping you could send over your notes from the last conservation lecture, just wanna text you before I forget!

566-460-4374: I got your number from Kyle, this is Roderick, I saw you last night and wanted to check up on you, hope everything is okay and merry Christmas.

Lindsey: Hey, haven't talked to you in a while but my parents said some stuff went down, just wanna make sure you're okay.

Ellie: Lmk if you need a ride back to our place

Ellie: Don't know if you can even see this but I got all of your stuff off the lawn, I promise it's safe 👍

Naomi: I'm so sorry

Naomi: I didn't think that would happen

Naomi: I didn't know what to do

Naomi: I love you

Aaron: U good?

Naomi: Please don't hate me, I'm sorry I didn't do anything

Elijah: Sorry but I wish you didn't tell Dad that

Naomi: I'll try to talk to Dad

Elijah: Hope you're safe

Elijah: Call me when you can

Still, there wasn't any word from either of my parents. I replied returning well wishes and assuring everyone that I was okay, I turned my phone onto Do Not Disturb and began to watch the Hunger Games on my phone. The room would've been pitch black if it wasn't for the blue light from my screen and the gentle beams of moonlight gliding through the window.

Ellie walks into the room after she finishes with her shower, she's in sweatpants and an old hoodie that she got from a rodeo, I had the same one, and we bought them together. I glance up at her before looking back at my movie and pulling the quilt further up my body. "You still like the Hunger Games?"

"Yeah," I say, being as brief as possible.

"You should take my bed and I'll sleep on the air mattress," Ellie says while she ties her hair into a low ponytail.

"I'm fine here, thanks."

"Seriously," Ellie is standing awkwardly at the foot of her bed, waiting for me to do something.

I shut my phone off and turned on my other side to face away from her "Just go to bed."

Ellie runs her hands down her face in frustration, she's starting to feel like an asshole "Please take the bed, it's the least I can do." I ignore her so she speaks again "I am begging you," She tells me bluntly "I feel like a dick and it would make me feel better if you just took the bed."

"You are a dick," I answer, she should've seen this response coming from a mile away.

"Please take the bed."

I sit up to look at her, frustration now boiling up inside of me "You're going to be nice now because you feel bad for me?"

"That's not why-

"It is actually," I tell her "This will last for a few days and then we'll go home and you'll be a cunt all over again, fucking keeping a list of everything I lay a finger on so you can say it's my fault if it breaks." She bites the inside of her cheek, that's her tell. Every time she does that I can tell that I've gotten under her skin. "You'll still act like you don't know me and I'm just some weird girl who thinks the world of you, I know what you say to those girls you have over, the walls aren't that thick." My insides ache from all of the screaming and crying of the past couple of days "And I know that I hurt you and I've told you a million times over that I'm sorry, you don't get to start having empathy for me now."

Ellie's silent again, she can't seem to find the words, so instead she slips under the covers of her bed, giving up. Minutes pass us, we've slept in this room together a thousand times but this time it's different, we don't share her queen bed and stay up all night watching the walking dead and talking shit about people at our school, we lay in the uncomfortable silence. We're grown but in this moment I still feel like a child searching for her mother's hand to guide her, I feel like my teeth still need to fall out so brighter, stronger ones can take their place, that the baby fat has yet to shed from my bones.

"I didn't know that you liked girls," Ellie said, breaking the silence "And I shouldn't have assumed that stuff about your parents." I don't respond to her, though she knows that I heard her. "I lied that night when you moved in."

"What?"

"I got all bitchy and said that you don't even cross my mind, I was lying," She's confessing to me as if I'm a priest "There wasn't a day that went by where I didn't think about you."

I'm not doing well.

I want nothing more than to crawl into bed next to Ellie and just hug her until I fall asleep but the resentment I've garnered for her these past months refrains me.

"I don't know if you ever knew this, but back in high school I had a bit of a crush on you," She says and my break hitches in my throat "Hey, you there?"

'I don't know if you ever knew this but I turned myself inside out trying not to be in love with you.' I don't say that, instead, I say "Goodnight, Ellie, Merry Christmas."

"Goodnight," She mutters, and like me, she turns her body to face away from me.

I don't feel mature in the slightest, I'm kept awake, haunted by shame and embarrassment. Ellie had seen me only one night prior, on my knees begging for love. We may be cold and calculated to one another now but I remember when she was a little girl who overwatered her plants because she didn't know how to stop giving.

TAG LIST I just tagged whoever wanted a part two: @elliesaesp @yalaysbee @laundrybag29 @readbydayana @elliesaturnsoftdrink @mikellie @melanie-watermelon @skylerwhitwyo

[cat-and-fox-hub]

Alliance DDLC AU!

Made by Cat, aka Researcher Serif

(TW: suicide, death)

Welcome, one an’ all to our DDLC AU ft. @cosmica-galaxy's Alliance bois! this has been stewing for a while but I finally done it!

Since the Bois tend to go in trios, I added a two special guests; Veteran & Brown-Coated Cameraman!

Veteran here has a platonic/familial relationship with the Literature Club's resident human, you! But, when it comes to you, dear Viewer, it's another story altogether~.

Brown-coated Cameraman is also like Veteran in terms of relationship with you but also you as well.

Anywaes, I do hope you enjoy!

(Sorry in advance if the format is janky, I'm still experimenting styles for my writing.)

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[Close ups and extra commentary below!]

As a forewarning, I will being using -dere typings, a suffix to that derives from the Japanese onomatopoeia 'deredere' meaning 'lovey dovey' to describe characters that express their affection in different ways, or on different levels, for their personalities with a summarized explanation of what the -dere type is given.

(Also keep in mind that while they take the roles of the DDLC girls, their personality don't exactly match with them. They more take some aspects from them into their base personalities, which has been ever so lovely provided by Rus.)

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The Main Trio! Took some finagling around to put them in roles I think was most suited for them but I decided on this!

ღ⊱ | Sayori!Cameron |

His base personality is a Dereyandere, mostly a Deredere, a sweet and happy-go-lucky energetic type character, with hints of non-violent Yandere, an obsessive and lovesick character willing to go varying (usually extreme) lengths for their perceived beloved

In this AU, he's more ditzy than his base self and that's pretty much it. Not much change here really.

I chose him because his cheerful and jealous pouty nature just reminds me of Sayori and his yan side reminds me of the Act 4 ending should you choose to delete Monika's file resulting in Sayori becoming the Club President.

ღ⊱ | Yuri!Vee |

His personality is a Kuutsundere, mostly a Kuudere, a calm, and collected character type that usually appears stoic in nature, with hints of Tsundere, a prideful character that seems/acts harsh on the outside but is softer on the inside

In this AU, he's a bit shy and into strange literature like Yuri but no less stoic and mature like his base self

He also adopted the yandere tendencies, obsession with knives, and 'testing' them on himself as Yuri does when his personality values are tampered with

ღ⊱ | Natsuki!DJ |

His base personality is a Deredere with go-with-the-flow/chill vibes from my observations

In this AU, he's a bit more exasperated and possessive than his base self. He's still the chill and happy-go-lucky unit we all know but just a bit more mellow in the way he gets a little more defensive about his feelings towards you, both to you and those that seem to like you too

Basically, Nastuki's tsundereness somewhat cancels out his more joyfully energetic side a tad

Initially, he was in Sayori's role before I started swapping with Cameron for a while. They were going back and forth roles the entire time lol

I was nearly done with drawing this when I realize he'd probably be a bit better as Sayori, but again, I was almost finished so we get this!

( _-ヮ-;)\

ღ⊱ | Monika!Veteran |

His base personality is serious and fatherly-inclined. He doesn't really align to any -dere types but if we were to stick to the whole -dere personality typing, the closest -dere type he'd be is a Jendere, a calm, gentlemanly, and distinguished character type.

There's more terms that attach itself to it like strict, fatherly, kind, and/or elegant which is why I thought this was the closest -dere typing for him

In this AU, he has more yandere tendencies that manifest in a similar way to that of Monika's own tendencies, just in a more guilty, conducted way seeing as he's the eldest, their senior, and shouldn't be causing the destabilization and deaths of his younger, junior club members because his deep love for you.

He's also younger in this AU considering DDLC's setting but that still doesn't offset the DILF vibes he got goin on lol

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ღ⊱ | You've achieved the Bad Endings! |

ღ⊱ | Sayori!Cameron | "It's, what do you call it, just a little rain cloud! I-I'm fine! Promise!" ღ⊱ | Yuri!Vee | "What to do for my core that flutters when our gazes meet? Ah! I-I apologize, I said too much..." ღ⊱ | Natsuki!DJ | "Whatever's on your mind, I'm sure it was nothing!"

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Hey! You there, looking at the screen! You seemed quite startled when things didn't seem like what they were at first. Especially since you exited so suddenly.

Monika!Veteran's been... watching, among other things. He's been waiting for quite a while for you to return so he's just a bit... antsy, to say the least, so please, don't be too alarmed looking at him!

But, your back! So all is good! And now, without the others in the way...

ღ⊱ | Monika!Veteran | "Let us spend the rest of our eternity together. What do you say? Just the two of us?"

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Veteran likes to pat his child our resident human like any good dad senior he is!

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The Main Trio giving you some well deserved affection! Veteran seems to have his Dad Instincts™ involuntarily flare up at this though...

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And of course, to top it all off, we have a Bonus Alt! AU ft. Rus' Mimic Trio and special guest, Brown-coated Cameraman!

ღ⊱ | Sayori!Pal |

His base personality is a Deredere to the max. A chipper and friendly guy to literally everyone he meets

In this Alt AU, his personality hasn't changed much from his base one, really. The only difference is him being a tad clumsy and a bit more somber at certain times, which is from Sayori's clumsy demeanor and depression.

ღ⊱ | Yuri!Buddy |

His personality is a Kuuyandere, majorly a Kuudere with hints of non-violent Yandere

In this Alt AU, he's quieter than his base self and a bit more maniac in his yandere tendencies when his personality values are tampered like Yuri's in DDLC.

He's also has a bit of shyness in the form of hand fidgeting from Yuri's own habit.

ღ⊱ | Natsuki!Fiend |

His base personality is a Kuutsunyandere, mostly a Kuutsundere with hints of non-violent Yandere

In this Alt AU, his tsundere side is a bit more prominent. Still a smug bastard, he's much more susceptible to getting flustered by things that involve his emotions due to Natsuki's influence

ღ⊱ | Monika!Brown-Coated Cameraman |

His base personality is a Megadere, a Deredere whose love is more obsessive and fangirlish in nature, which is rather obvious to everyone else, and sometimes, the love interest themselves

In this AU, his personality is more that of a Yeredere's, similar to a Megadere but even more crazy and obsessive like that of a sweeter, mostly non-violent Yandere which comes from Monika's own yandereness

He also very much leans into Monika's 'why can't I just be the one for once?' as a person who has very strong feelings of love and longing slapped in him

He just loves you so much. Won't you stay with him? Forever?

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Check out my main blog: @researcher-serif

Here's my NSFW blog if that tickles your fancy: @grandfather-of-sin

[jackdaniel69nice]

@khonaker asked for ochako and the birds 🪐🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛

Since the sports festival Uraraka and tokoyami have been fairly close. Uraraka has a surprising “dark side” when it comes to her determination. I think they are a great trio with toko and DS being in all black and ochako in all pink haha.

You don’t want to see what happens when tokoyami and ochako butt heads. They are both highly competitive and anything from a card game to training can get extremely heated. They also train well together because tokoyami likes to use knives and swords and Uraraka can focus on disarming him. Due to that competitiveness they end up on the floor in a cat fight by the end though. Uraraka is more chatty and will talk about anything and tokoyami is good at listening like always. She does think his way of talking is creepy yet cool?? She thinks he’s a totally lame Chuunibyou but that’s exactly what makes him so endearing. She’s friends with deku and iida so obviously she has a habit of befriending the loser nerds. I’ve seen some people think she likes screamer/rock/metal music and I like that especially for her training music so they jam out together. Weirdly enough I also think Tokoyami’s family has had financial issues in the past so they can relate over frugal spending. (His problems arnt nearly as bad as ochako living in poverty her whole life don’t worry).

Dark shadow is always on their best behavior for the girls so of course Shadow and Ura are going to get along. They love getting attention and pets from her because she’s so nice! Unless they have done something naughty like stolen her food…then it’s like a demon has been unleashed. Ochakos rage is enough to cow even Dark Shadows fearless spirit, she’ll have them apologizing within minutes after a verbal thrashing. There are no hard feeling though~ Really, their biggest bonding point is a love of space!!!(This is my favorite hc for them!) They watch documentaries, find recent astronomical events online, and look at the stars at night. Dark Shadow has a small portable telescope that they show her how to use (she’s too poor to have ever gotten one) and they love going to observatories and just talking about space stuff they learned. I think they could fly together at night to go up and see the stars, dark shadow would nag her to bring a jacket. Uraraka likes talking with shadow even if she is confused about their independence, she just kinda gets used to it and forgets they aren’t a person. She is very caring and sweet to them. They are just so cute!!

[see-arcane]

See if Mary didn't quit after being told by the new married employers "going to an asylum brb here's money and the key until we return" and then days later being telegrammed "back in a few or never xo" and then she sees them back home like two months later, irrevocably changed, then it'll be fine... Alternatively, she took the payment and moved to Switzerland

If the Harkers' track record holds steady, their sheer magnetic 'these are my Harkers now' vibes will keep Mary and anyone else on board.

They are sweethearts and at worst she has to stop them from trying to do her duties right under her nose, the little workaholics. It's like shooing cats out of the pantry, but with the added trouble of somehow convincing your former-lower/middle class employers that no, honest, you can let the people hired to take care of the house take care of the house. Don't you touch those linens. No, put the broom back. Out with you! Shoo! Go write something somewhere!

Worse (better), they are scrupulously tidy and organized. Hawkins was no slob, but he was careless and a bit slower as age and the gout went to work on him, poor fellow. The Harkers leave scarcely a mote of dust to sweep or a book askew.

(There are scads of books now, Mary notes. Walls have been eaten whole by bookcases. They welcome everyone to their thickening library--their biggest vice with money in their pockets is an ongoing mutual affair with the booksellers.)

Other times, she and the cook will turn their backs for one moment and discover the Harkers have gone and made dinner before anyone else can set foot in the kitchen. Mrs. Harker is a talent by way of practice, while Mr. Harker is one by way of sheer love of cuisine. Mina sees to English favorites while Jonathan replicates dishes harvested from the Continent, always in generous helpings. The Harkers eat with the staff with the same ease as if they ate with family.

(Hawkins was a cordial old fellow, but he always did dine alone while the help had their own meal at another hour. And, Mary and the rest are stunned to discover, the Harkers regularly have an actual lord, his friend the asylum-running doctor, and a renowned international polymath of a mentor over for supper. Casual as anything. Mary had to get smelling salts for one of the younger girls the first time she realized, yes, that was in fact Lord Arthur Godalming at the door.)

The Harkers have their strange features, of course. Traits and habits and, don't laugh, a few superstitions they've ingrained in the edges of things...but it really is leagues away from the worst of what other households must suffer from their owners. The Harkers love their home and the people it came with as dearly as kin. Ardently so.

(Mary once saw Mrs. Harker throw a Look like knives into the head of a man who tried to accost one of the girls weeding the garlic and rosebushes in the garden. While the man was trying to puff himself up and not sweat under her scrutiny, Mr. Harker manifested at the top floor's window, opened it, and then scaled down the wall like a spider. This he did with his kukri knife ready, that accessory forever at his hip just as the revolver lived in Mrs. Harker's reticule. The man had fled. The Harkers had stared after him with lambent eyes before seeing if the girl was well, would she like to head in for a rest..?)

The Harkers are strange.

The Harkers are uncanny.

And the Harkers are not about to lose Mary or anyone else under that roof any time soon.

[harrowharkwife]

camilla or pyrrha for the character ask meme!

THANK YOU EMMA FOR GIVING ME AN EXCUSE TO TALK ABOUT CAMMMM MY GIRL.... CAMILLA DARLING

favorite thing about them: where do i even fucking start. her skill, and strength. her wit, she's so goddamn funny. her resolve. her bravery. the quiet ferocious intensity with which she loves and cares about people. as tragic and troubling and fucked up as it is in canon, i find her perennial tendency towards pair-bonded dysfunctional codependency to be. ALARMINGLY relatable. i love her flat affect. i love her observational skills- she's clever, and perceptive. i may or may not have an enormous crush on her. i love her loyalty and devotion. i love (read: hate) her tendency to deflect any and all important personal questions. i love that she doesn't let go. i love her love for spreadsheets and sharp knives and sensible shoes and sketching. i love her impeccable bedside manner. i love her and her letters and her cassette tapes and her fuckass bob and her smile that makes the earth want to marry her and i love her slate-clay eyes and her laugh. i love that she fought like her heart had already exploded.

least favorite thing about them: i mean, with camilla this question is really more of a "most concerning things about them," isn't it? her codependency, her lack of individuation and independence, her refusal to develop her own identity and exist as her own person. which, like, from one autistic bitch to another, girl i Get It. if i could get away with making myself a satellite accessory to another person instead of having to figure out how to be a person myself, if my society had groomed me to do exactly that from birth, yeah, i would probably do the same thing. being a person is fucking exhausting. but it's also so, so worth it, and it breaks my fucking heart that cam never had the chance, and that the people in her life by and large never encouraged her to really try. we do see pal pushing her on it a little here and there from time to time, and i appreciate that, but it was clearly never enough to stick, y'know? i hate how self sacrificing and selfless she is, i wish fandom at large would talk more about her depression, i want to give her wellbutrin and a hug and therapy.

favorite line: too many to choose. life is too short and love is too long. i don't let go, it's my one thing. sure, it's a nice handkerchief. i think there's another teaspoon full of blood in here somewhere. camilla hect fought like a grease fire. the cohort has taken the rest of him away and i don't know where they've put him.

brOTP: gideon, though i am a lover of the cam/gideon agenda! also nona, and palamedes.

OTP: dulcie, but i also love campyrrha, in like a mutually sorrowful toxic cathartic cav4cav grief sex sorta way.

nOTP: idk that i have one? i'm not really into cam/corona the way some people are

random headcanon: autistic like i mentioned earlier. i think she'd love cats

unpopular opinion: personally speaking I'm not a shooter for the aro/ace cam agenda, though i don't have anything against it!!! I've definitely seen it done in fascinating and lovely and compelling ways before! it's just not how i personally interpret her, but i think that's literally just a personal grudge on account of being an autistic woman with somewhat flat affect, and having seen fandoms Immediately jump to hit every serious-mannered, autistic-coded woman character that has flat affect with the aroace headcanon stick Immediately and at first blush without interrogating the potential stereotypes and assumptions behind that choice. not saying that that's what people are doing with cam at all, just that it was a general pattern i was observing across fandoms- honestly i see the logic behind it with her, and i don't think it's a "wrong" way to interpret her at all, i think it's perfectly founded! but unfortunately i am just projecting on her and she got caught in the crosshairs of me deciding i had Had Enough and that it was time to draw the "let autistic women fuck" shaped line in the sand and take a political stance 😂 you understand. aroace cam truthers are some of my most beloved comrades in arms. peace and love on planet earth

song i associate with them: EXISTENTIAL CRISIS HOUR! BY KILO KISH. see also: butterfly net by caroline polachek, true blue by boygenius, my friend by hayley williams, ***look at me now by caroline polachek,*** francis forever by mitski, the body is a blade by japanese breakfast, crude drawing of an angel by caroline polachek.

favorite picture of them: im on mobile and also stoned outta my gourd so I'll rb this with some art tomorrow!

ty emma!!!!