#when they die they decompose in such a way that all that's left is that kelp

[carewyncromwell]

“Every day they shout and scold and go about their lives, Heedless of the gift it is to be them! If I was in their skin, I'd treasure every instant!”

~“Out There (cover)” by Elsie Lovelock

x~x~x~x

Yay, more content for my kelpie kiddo, Ru! 🐎

So the second one has actually been half-done in my sketchbook a long while, mostly because I kind of lost inspiration aside from “let’s experiment with Ru’s wardrobe as an adult.” Ru’s main fashion quirks are all there in that look -- un-Victorian-approved long hair, large diamond earrings and a few rings, wearing only a coat and no shirt so as to avoid the high collars...I even dusted it with their shoes being rather high heeled rather than of a more masculine style, despite wearing pants and a men’s waistcoat. But anyway, after finishing the sketch at the top, however, I found a perfect contrast, so here it is -- this is Ru at the beginning and end of their journey. 

At the top, you see Ru as a young kelpie colt of two years, still living in the Black Lake all alone and dwelling on the fascinating, intriguing things they’ve seen in passing at the wizarding school next to the Lake -- longing that they could, in Quasimodo’s words, “just live one day out there.” 

To contrast, at the bottom, you see Ru toward the end of their life, in their more established human form. They still appear quite young, but that’s only to blend in their appearance with their peers (who are in their 40′s) -- in truth, Ru’s rather old for a kelpie at the time, and they’ve started to have more difficulty changing their appearance, a clear sign of old age. And so, taking a moment to themselves under the stars outside their and Estrid’s home in Denmark, Ru can’t help but look back at where they started and wish that their time on Earth wasn’t doomed to be so fleeting. 

Have a magical day, all! Happy holidays!

#hphlh #hogwarts legacy #my art #ru ollivander #for the record this song is my favorite disney song of all time as well #I've personally always identified with it and that line in particular was always my favorite from the time I was little <3 #it's been such a long time since I've tried drawing ru in kelpie form! #it was tricky trying to mess with the proportions to make them more 'pony-like' #their mane is a lot shorter because I see kelpies growing more seaweed-like hair on their bodies as they age #when they die they decompose in such a way that all that's left is that kelp

[jyoongim]

BLOOD & BLISS

Human!Alastor x wife!Reader

Themes: 1930 based! Human!Alastor x wife!Reader, domestic life! fluff, smut, devotion, slight manipulation, mention of children, pregnancy,  blood, murder, secrets 

Chapter four

Chapter Five

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Something smelled.

Every time you entered the kitchen, a putrid scent would assault your nose.

You didnt know where the smell was coming from, but you were determined to find it.

You had cleaned every inch of the kitchen, thinking it was some old food you had failed to dispose of.

But it still lingered.

You followed your nose, trying to locate the smell.

It led you to the cellar.

Did some animal get in and die from the heat? You mentally groaned at the thought at having to find some decomposed vermin and having to clean it up.

You held your reflex to gag as you descended the stairs. God it was rancid.

You didnt even bother to turn on the light as you traveled down to investigate. You looked around and from what you could see nothing was out of the ordinary.

But there was trash bags stuffed in a corner.

Alastor usually did well in making sure the trash didnt overflow, but you guess he had forgot.

Mustve been the deer you thought as you grabbed the bags and tried to move them.

But one bag was all too heavy for you to carry.

You huffed and grabbed at it again, thinking that carrying it at a different angle would help, but the contents of the bag shifted and must have not been sealed properly as something spilled out.

Cold, slimy liquid splashed your bare feet and you cringed.

This was definitely what was causing the smell.

Your stomach did flips as the smell assaulted your senses.

You figured you needed the light and made your way to find the switch.

Now seeing your surroundings clearly, you turned to see where you left the bag and froze.

Red. 

That’s what your eyes registered first. 

Thick red liquid was leaking out of the bag and when you approached further to the dumped contents your blood ran cold.

Was that a hand?

You felt bile rush into your throat.

There must be some mistake…what was a…a body doing in your cellar?

You shook your head and waddled back up the stairs.

Your heart was pounding in your chest. You were frazzled.

You poured yourself a glass of water. Maybe there was an explanation for this. There had to be right?

You took a deep breath. There was a body in your cellar. There was a dead person in your cellar. Could you even consider them a person? The state they were in…

Your eyes drifted to the pot on the stove. You approached the pot and opened it. The beef stew Alastor made. You sniffed it.

It smelled normal.

You picked up a piece of meat and examined it.

It didnt look like any meat you knew.

Your stomach curled as realization dawned on you.

Your husband had fed you human meat…

Your head was in the trash can before you knew it. Throwing up the water you had just sipped.

NO NO NO. NO NONO NO NO

You made your way to your pager, the line beeped and the deep brawl of your husband answered “Honey! Is everything ok? Im kind of busy”

You were panting, shock settling in you “I-I just wanted to know if you could come home straight from work today?”

The man chuckled “Of course dear. Why don’t you rest a bit you sound rattled” you bid him goodbye and sat on the couch.

Theres no way this was happening…

——————————————————————————————

Alastor quirked a brow when you didn’t come to greet him home.

The house was dimly lite except for the kitchen.

He smiled and found you sitting at the table, rubbing your swollen belly.

”You’re not indulging in a late night drink are you my dear?” He nodded towards the bottle of whiskey and glass in front of you.

You jumped slightly, having not heard him come home.

You quickly gathered yourself and have a shaky smile “of c-course not. I thought after a long week you would like to whine down”

He let out a low hum and made himself a glass.

Alastor noticed how you seemed…nervous.

You didn’t met his gaze and fidgeted in your seat.

”What’s troubling you cherie?” He asked downing the drink.

You wanted to blurt out and question him about the thing in your cellar, but you didnt know how he would react.

You had to wait for the right moment.

So you shook your head with a smile “Baby been giving me trouble that’s all. Didn’t realize how much I missed doing simple things without being out of breathe”

He laughed and leaned to place a kiss on your temple, a large hand over your very big bump. “You should take it easy. I told you you ain’t have to do anything. Just sit pretty and grow our child”

Your heart buzzed. 

There was no way your husband, your Alastor was a killer.

Maybe the hormones was making you delirious.

Maybe it really WAS just a deer carcass.

But you were certain you saw right…

”Did you clean today? You know chemicals aren’t good for you to be around. You shouldn’t be putting unnecessary stress on yourself darlin”

You pouted, wrinkling your nose “Something was rotten. You know how I feel about my kitchen Al.”

If you didnt know your husband, you wouldnt have noticed when he tensed up, but as quickly as it happened, it passed.

”Rotten?” He asked, face frowning.

You nodded “I threw out the strew, I think it went bad”

Alastor’s fingers drummed on your stomach and then he shrugged.

”guess Ill have to do better next time” he pulled you up and lead you unstairs to rest for the night.

”Guess Ill have to do better next time” what did that mean?

You had got dressed for bed and settled beside Alastor who pulled you to snuggle into his side.

You let out a yawn, eyes getting heavy “Al?”

He hummed in acknowledgment as he looked over some scripts.

“You would tell me if something was troubling you right?”

He glanced down to see you looking at him.

”Of course dear why?”

You shook your head, closing your eyes 

“Nothing just wondering”

Your soft snores filled the room and Alastor let out a sigh as he set down the papers.

He slipped out of bed and made his way to the kitchen.

He looked around. While he had made sure to thoroughly clean up his mess, your cleaning was another level.

He sniffed and nothing but chemicals greeted his senses.

Something was rotten

Could you have…

He made his way down into the cellar. Flicking the light on, his eyes scanned the room.

The black trash bags were still in place.

His eyes narrowed noticing the red liquid coming from th bag.

Oh that just wont do.

He hauled the bag over his shoulder and went into the backyard.

Alastor wouldnt let his clean reality be faltered by his sinful deeds.

After all…

you didn’t need to know your husband dirty little secret….

—————————————————————————————————

Hi Jyoongim here !

I am at the point of the story where everything is now about to shit and dont know how long this story will be. Im thinking at least five more chapters (They will be long) but who knows. Blood and Bliss WILL have a second series, but until then…i would like to address something…. The next few chapters will have heavy themes. As a black writer i feel it is important that I show the history of my people and what African Americans had to deal with in the early centuries in the South United States. With that being said; be mindful and open-minded about the themes that will appear in the next few chapters Thank you

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@th3-st4r-gur1 @yourdoorisunlocked @popamolly @doggone-devil @rulesareshadesofgrey @zombiesnips-blog @boney-horse @ilikemyteawithmilk @alastor-simp @alastorsgirl48 @alastors666creampie @alastwhore666 @alastorssimp @alastorsaries @al1fers-haven @dasimp777 @thewinchestah @certifiedcrybabyyy @markster666 @okay-babe @catherine1206 @angelicorpses @hazelfoureyes @yunimimii @smoky000 @siiv3r @southern-bayou-beau @luzzbuzz @karolinda007-blog @catmunist @ivebeenthearchersstuff @evedenn @luluxx118 @vexendoe @preciousbabypeter @justtnat @willowshadenox @celestial-vomit @over-the-little-blue-house @impulsivethoughtsat2am @purplecatsandhearts @strawberrypimp666 @peachedtvs @peachedtv @altruisticalastor @chanty-loves-turtles @cxrsedwxrlds @nightshadelm @theangeliclibrarian @voxsmalewife

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor x reader #jyoongim #alastor x y/n #alastor the radio demon #human alastor x wife reader #human alastor x reader #human alastor #alastor fluff #domestic fluff #yandere #dark themes

[harunayuuka2060]

Ace: Okay. No one had expected the party was going to be a blast.

Epel: Both in literal and figurative sense.

Ace, Deuce, Epel, Ortho, and Jack: *laughing*

Jack: And who would've thought that MC-senpai's sister and Ruggie would click?

Ace: Like, bruh! I still remember their conversation!

Ace: "Is MC-senpai looking for a brother-in-law?"

Ace: "They don't. But I'm looking for a boyfriend. Are you available?" *claps, laughing*

Epel: By the way, we'd only seen senpai when the party was about to end.

Jack: Yes. And I think they have injured their left eye.

Ortho: I wonder what happened.

Malleus: Didn't I tell you to be careful?

MC: *has returned with a bleeding eye and deep scratches on their arms and neck* *giggles*

MC: The souls I have arrived to were too excited~.

Malleus: ...

Malleus: Let me patch you up.

MC: Hm~? Has your mom left already~?

Malleus: Yes. She didn't want you to see her off.

MC: Eh~.

Malleus: Oh and, you've decided on Rosehearts and Schoenheit?

MC: Hmm~ *giggles* Riddle will never be my option~. He's too young~.

MC: And will die easily because of stress~.

Malleus: That's... *sigh* How about Schoenheit?

MC: If it's Vil~ Hehe~ He's a fine choice~ But~ I'll be too possessive~.

Malleus: You're worried that you would be too possessive for Schoenheit?

MC: *nods then giggles* Wouldn't anyone be~?

Malleus: ...

Malleus: I'm surprised with your self-awareness.

MC: *touches his face with their bloody hands*

Malleus: *frowns* Hey.

MC: *giggles*

Malleus: *sigh*

Silver: MC's parents are amazing.

Lilia: Indeed. I don't think anyone would do what they have done for the sake of love.

Sebek: That's just pure insanity! And I don't even understand the explanation at all!

Sebek: How could they be both half-dead?!

Silver: MC's father had died long ago, but for some reason, his body never decomposed. And their mother, who was an infamous necromancer, found him and fell in love at first sight.

Sebek: I understood that part! What I'm trying to say is how were they able to produce offsprings?!

Silver: ...

Silver: Oh. You have a point with that, Sebek. *turns to look at Lilia*

Silver: Do you know how that is possible, father?

Lilia: Yes. But you're still innocent to know.

The Ramshackle students: Housewarden! How is your eye?

MC: It's fine~ But it feels really itchy~.

Grim: Don't think of plucking that out, mryah!

MC: *giggles* Why~ Its string is still connected to the socket~.

Grim: Just don't!

MC: Okay~. If you could distract me~.

The Ramshackle students: We will study hard so we can get the first place in rankings!

MC: Eh~ That's a nice proposal~.

MC: But if one of you fails~ Would you like to receive my eyeball as a reward~?

The Ramshackle students: N-No, housewarden...

MC: *giggles* Fail or not~ All I want you to do is enjoy school~ Like how I enjoy my stay here~.

The Ramshackle students: *sniffles* Yes, housewarden!

Grim: You're awfully nice today. *looking at them suspiciously*

MC: Well~ The next couple of months will be a torture~.

The Ramshackle students: That's still fine, housewarden!

MC: *giggles*

#twisted wonderland #twst mc #twst malleus #twst ace #twst deuce #twst epel #twst jack #twst ortho #twst sebek #twst silver #twst lilia #twst grim #blithesome!mc

[xaphrin]

Anyway I just spent all morning plotting out my next long fic, and uh... wow that outline is something. Hope it doesn't suck? Have a taste?

(Actually trying to see how people feel about this)

-

When Trigon finally conquered Earth it felt like the world had become a strange, tilted reflection of itself. Warped like the mirror in a funhouse, but somehow still the same. On the surface things continued as normal, people went to their jobs, the public transit system continued, and the stock market miraculously stayed stable. The conquering felt less like an ending, and more like a blip in the timeline. Most people assumed that after a few months it would all clear itself up. 

But, underneath that facade of normalcy, there was a wound festering. 

Dissenters quietly disappeared overnight. World leaders vanished on their way to summits. Pacifists simply ceased to exist. Slowly, like a small leak in a boat, little bits of civilization disappeared, letting more and more horrors fill the space until the boat started to sink and there was nothing left but accept the inevitable truth:

There was no saving what Trigon had destroyed.  

And here stood Raven, at the edge of it all. She wasn’t supposed to exist. After her body had been used as a portal for Trigon, she had been left to die and decompose into the earth. Even her soul wouldn’t have found rest anywhere, since it was welcome nowhere. 

“You good?” 

Raven turned and looked at Dick as he stood next to her. “Not sure yet.” She gave a one shouldered shrug and stared out into the skyline. 

The city still looked inhabited, but there was a soft quiet that rumbled in and around the buildings. Look closer and you could see shattered windows and the rust-colored stains of long-dried blood. Everyone ignored it. If someone had died, they had it coming. Keep your head down. Don’t stir up trouble. Those were rules, and they were meant to be followed. 

Dick sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. “I got a message from my brother.” 

Raven lifted an eyebrow. “A Robin?”

He nodded. “The last one, actually. He was there the day Batman was…” Dick trailed off, unsure of what to call the death of the last man he considered a father. 

“Taken,” Raven supplied. The word didn’t feel like an end. It felt like a book with the last pages ripped out, so you never really knew the ending. “I thought he disappeared. Your brother, I mean.”

“He went back to the League of Assassins.” 

Raven lifted an eyebrow, surprised. They were the one group of people who had managed to resist all of Trigon’s control, walking a very fine line of neutrality. She huffed out a soft breath. “And what does he want?”

“To join the cause.”

#damirae #I've started plotting and outlining things which is weird #but found it's easier for me to get my 300 - 500 words a day in if I have an actual plot and not just a ~vibe~ #So... uh... I guess expect chapter one in a few weeks?

[belovedjeju]

Hi there Bunny~

It's finally nice to see another writer who writes for SWF2 🥹. May I ask for a Fluffy Tatter X Fem reader imagine? Maybe something like reader gets into a minor accident? (If it's not too much to ask)

And Tatter take cares of you, just pretty much babies you.

-awisespirit 🍵

Omg hiii! I had a lot of fun with this one so thanks for the request bunny🫶🏿🫶🏿. I didn’t know what kinda accident you were referring to so I just took some creative liberties on that part 😁😁

Word count:~2.1k

Tw: Fluff, slightly suggestive but nothing you need to tilt your nose up at

Note: Any relation to any real person or place is purely coincidental and is not indicative of any real person’s personality or life.

You should get the award for the clumsiest bitch on Earth.

You’re currently laying on the floor, commiserating in your own misery. Why, you ask? Well, when you’re having the worst day of your life, laying on the floor is really the best thing to do.

First, you had prepared to go to campus to take your final exam for your least favorite class, Math, with your least favorite teacher, Kim Eun Soo, only to find out that it had started thirty minutes earlier, and you only had two hours left to take a 200 question exam.

Then, you get called in by your boss to come in to the shop at the last minute, because one of your coworkers quit and there was no one else to pick up the shift. On the way there, you wasted hot coffee all over your lap, and had to use one of the pants in the store, which is definitely “coming out of your paycheck”, according to your lovely boss. You then proceed to be berated by a customer for not having the size of pants she wanted, because you had taken the last pair just five minutes prior.

As you bowed in apology, your coworker was coming by with the grabber used to get clothes off of the higher racks, and it hit you in the back of the head when you were standing up, causing you to smack your head on the counter in front of you.

So, you proceeded to spend the rest of your shift with a raging headache and once that was done, you had to drive all the way back home with your dirty jeans that were making your car smell like old coffee.

You were so ready to lay down in bed and decompose silently, but of course, luck just wasn’t on your side, because as you entered your kitchen to fix yourself some water, the kitchen sink didn’t want to work.

You would turn it on and off, but nothing would come out, which was worrying because you didn’t feel like spending money to get it fixed, thirstiness be damned. Just when you were about to give up and go about your business, the spout suddenly burst, shooting water right in your face. You screamed as water rushed out, spilling all over the counter, the floor, and of course, you.

Thankfully, you were able to shut it off quickly, but as you were wiping off the counters, you ended up slipping, foot caving in and falling to the floor.

Which is how you got here, entire body hurting and just about the end of your rope.

“Should I just die,” you say, deadpan, as you stare up at the ceiling. Maybe this could be your new career, a stay-on-the-floor girlfriend while your partner goes out and makes money for the both of you.

You could just mold into the floor and Taeyoung can use you as a decoration piece for the living room or something.

That’s it! That’s what you’ll do instead of moving. Taeyoung would understand. Of course she will. If she loves you she will.

You faintly hear the sound of the door opening, and your girlfriend’s lovely voice as it rings throughout the air. Her voice is almost enough to make all of the pain of today go away. Almost.

“(Y/n), are you home?” She calls out, and you can hear the jingle of her keys as she sets them down.

“In here,” you answer, and you hear her footsteps as they get closer.

“Babe, where are you?” Her confused tone of voice makes you giggle a bit.

“Down here,” her head immediately comes around the corner as she spots you. “Careful, floor’s wet,” you warn as she cautiously steps closer.

Tatter takes in the wet floor and your disheveled state, bewilderment clear on her face. You’re completely soaked, hair in shambles and tired look in your eyes.

“What are you… what happened,” Taeyoung says, blonde hair framing her face as she looks down at you with furrowed eyebrows.

“This is my new job. I’m going to become one with the floor so you can use me as a decoration piece for the living room,” you close your eyes and continue to lay there. “Human life isn’t for me, y’know? I wasn’t meant to be a part of actual society, so you’re just gonna have to take care of me from now on.” You say, body deflating even more.

“Okay…?” Is the only thing Taeyoung can say back to you, not knowing what to make out of this. “Do you want to tell me why, maybe?”

You only stay silent, feeling like if you talk about it then you’ll just end up crying.

“Do you want to maybe get off the floor, then?” You shake your head, staying where you are. Your girlfriend wasn’t having it though.

“Alright, get up,” Tatter says, grabbing your arm and pulling you up, only for you to hiss in pain.

Your body does actually hurt, all jokes aside. Taeyoung immediately drops you after hearing you protest, only for your body to hit the floor again, which is just… perfect.

“Oh shit, babe I’m so sorry,” Tatter panics, crouching down but not knowing where to touch you. “Fuck, is your head ok? Where does it hurt–”

Tatter cuts herself off when you start to sniffle, tears forming in your eyes.

“Shit, baby, I really didn’t mean it, ok! I was only trying to get you off the floor and,” Tatter rambles as she helps you sit up, and you immediately push your face into her chest, tears flowing freely as it all becomes too much.

You wrap your arms around Tatter, who immediately reciprocates the affection.

“Come on, baby, let’s get you cleaned up, ok?” You say nothing, letting her try and move you, only for you to wince when you put pressure on your ankle. Tater notices immediately. “Is it your ankle, hun?” You just nod, only for you to gasp as Tatter picks you up with ease, carrying you to the bedroom as you look down at her in shock. “What,” she says, smiling cheekily at you, “why do you think I hit the gym so hard? It’s so I can carry you like a princess!” She bounces you in her arms, and loves the way you laugh, burying your face in her neck as it begins to heat up.

Tatter enters the bathroom and sits you on the edge of the tub, turning on the water after plugging it in. As you watch it fill up, Tatter adds soap to the water and swirls it around with her hand.

She puts your hair in a high bun and then proceeds to peel off your wet clothes, chucking them in a corner with a faux disgusted look on her face.

“There,” she says once all of them are removed, “Now you can relax properly.” She kisses you on the cheek and holds you hand as you get in the tub, warm water immediately soothing your sore skin. She turns off the tub, grabbing a rag to wash you off with. She runs the rag over your shoulders, your chest, your back, and your legs with care and tenderness, and it makes you want to cry. You let it all happen, body feeling heavier and heavier with each passing moment.

Tatter admires you as your eyes flutter shut. She admires your long neck as you tip your head back, the way your chest moves slowly up and down as you breathe so steadily. She admires the way the water glides over you, making your skin glisten in the light. She runs her hands from your shoulders to your chest, giving you a small kiss on your neck as well.

“My baby’s so pretty like this,” another kiss on your cheek, “so peaceful and relaxed,” her lips meet yours, slow and steady. She starts kneading your shoulders, eyes furrowed at the tension there. “Oh, this day must’ve been awful for you. You’re so stressed out…” Tatter watches you nod, leaning into her every touch. Her fingers meet the back of your neck, rubbing her thumbs into it gently. You sigh, craning your head forward.

“Taeyoung,” you whimper, hand reaching up to clasp hers. Your girlfriend grabs your hand and places a kiss on your palm, feeling your pulse beat through your wrist.

“My lovely girl,” she rubs your back in circles, kissing up your arm and on your shoulder. Her hands reach down, rubbing your waist and back up again. “You need a break,” she states, wiping off the soap from your body.

“Can you join me, please?” You ask, looking up at her with hazy eyes.

Taeyoung smiles, never one to deny you much. She strips in front of you, knowing that your eyes will never leave her body. Your hand reaches out to grab onto her hip, planting a kiss on her thigh. You scoot up to let her fit into the tub, and allow her to wrap her arms around you and pull you close to her. Tatter plants a bunch of kisses on your neck and shoulders, squeezing your sides again. You rub your hands up and down her thighs, humming softly.

Tatter tilts your head up, lips meeting yours in sweet bliss. The only sound that fills the bathroom is the sound of lips smacking against each other and the sound of bodies moving in the water, and it’s music to both of your ears.

You start panting into her mouth as Tatter’s hands roam your body, but Tatter pulls away all too soon. She nuzzles her nose into your cheek, cooing at you.

“Let’s just relax for now, ok? We’ll have time for that later,” she whispers into your lips, giving you one last peck before she starts to wash herself off, you helping a bit too.

After the tub is drained, Tatter sits you on the edge of the tub and dries you off first, drying each part of you individually. She wraps you in the towel, lets your hair down, and grabs a towel for herself as well.

“How’s your ankle, love?” She bends down and takes your right foot in her hand, thumb rubbing over your slightly swollen ankle. You huff at the contact.

“I’m sure it’ll be better in the morning. Just a little accident, that’s all,” you say, voice wavering. “Sink attacked me earlier.”

Tatter chuckles, placing a kiss to your ankle and lifting you into her arms once more. “Attacked you? How so?”

“Wouldn’t work when I tried to get something to drink earlier, sprayed me with water when I gave up,” she sets you down on the bed softly. “Then I proceeded to fall on the floor and hit my head for the second time today,” you watch as Tatter goes to grab some clothes for you both, two oversized shirts and underwear.

“What was the first?” Tatter says, walking back over to you.

“Coworker hit me in the head with a pole and I ended up hitting my head on the counter at work,” Tatter winces in response, imagining the scenario now. “No underwear for me?” You ask as she sits you up, putting your shirt on.

“Easier access for later,” she says cheekily, giving you a small wink. Your face heats up and you look away.

Tatter dresses herself, climbing into bed afterwards.

“And not to mention that my boss called me in at the last minute, and so I had to speed from my final –which I was late to–, and I wasted coffee on myself,” you rub at your thighs, happy you didn’t get any burns on you. Your poor jeans, though.

Tatter sighs, hugging you from the side. “Oh, my poor baby, the world had it out for you, I swear.” She kisses you on the cheek, hoping it’ll brighten your mood, which it does.

“I swear, Taeyoung, I must’ve had terrible karma in my past life. Simply terrible,” you pout, curling into her.

“Well, let’s hope you do enough good in this one to not be so unlucky next time,” she gives you a mischievous grin as she places more kisses on your cheeks and neck. “I know I can get a lot of good karma tonight,” she declares, playing with the hem of your shirt.

“Oh,” you quirk an eyebrow at her, wrapping your arms around her neck once she leans over you. “And how do you plan on doing that?”

“By making you call for God all night long, of course,” she kisses you as you both giggle, you playfully tapping her on her shoulder.

“You’re so corny, baby,” you say through your giggles.

“I tell nothing but the truth. Now lay down and let me make you feel better, ok?” She says impatiently, and you do as you’re told, letting your girlfriend take care of you for the rest of the night.

#tatter x reader #swf2 x fem reader #swf2 x reader #swf2 #team Bebe #tatter x fem reader #tatter Bebe #team Bebe tatter #tatter team Bebe #kim taeyoung #question from the bunnies #babies first request omg!!!

[eatbabies0]

Pip is so cute. Pip is so silly. I don't understand how cold and pathetic you fucking could be to hate pip. He already gets enough torture from the other kids, and he can't even rest in peace. He's such a cutie. He's a silly british guy who was left behind and forgotten in another timeline. If you hate pip, you basically hate cats and dogs. Pip is one of the silliest. If you hate pip, you should end your life. Your stages in life have clearly went to the very last point and your blood might as well be cold. If you hate pip, you're a fucking maggot. You're as annoying and useless as a mosquito flying around and biting me. You're a fucking burden. You deserve nothing if you hate pip. He gets tormented and you can't even show remorse for him? What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you like, okay? Did something hit your head? Did you not get treatment? I don't understand people who could ever hate pip, he does nothing wrong and is overall a punching bag. Pip is my son and I love him. He doesn't deserve anything wrong or negative. Pip is a sweetheart who is nothing but nice to people and you wanna go and say you hate him? You'd burn him? You're happy he's dead? I can't understand you. Are you on another planet? Did we watch the same show? Do you even watch south park or do you just take other peoples words? If you hate pip, you should fucking rot. You should burn. You're a disgusting person. I feel like you'd be the kind of person to pick on him if he was in school. He's nothing but a kind gentleman who wants nothing more than to treat others properly. He's a silly little guy. He deserves the world. I can't believe YOUR ass would go and say "I hate pip Im so happy he's dead" like wow, wow, you might as well be as fat as a discord mod or that guy who played world of warcraft so much he was able to practically glitch the game in that one episode. You're a terrible person with terrible thoughts, feelings, and have no purpose of living on this planet. You should mature. You're disgusting honestly. I can't believe how you'd decide that you'd go and comment that. I will spread yo cheeks little bro if i see you in these comments again. I feel like you'd be the type of person to sit at your computer all day on reddit eating chips. You're a disgusting person with absolutely no life. And I hope one day I hear news that you got hurt really badly. I hope one day you get one of your limbs cut off. I hope you get aids. I hope you get cancer. I wish every bad thing onto you. I wish the worst upon you. I hate every aspect of you and I hope your IP address gets leaked and your house gets nuked. I hope one day you get crushed to death just like my son did. I hope someone pisses on your grave. I hope nobody comes to your funeral. You know what? I hope you don't even get a funeral. I hope you just get left to rot and decompose wherever you died. I hope nobody ever misses you, and nobody will remember you. I hope someone says one day "God, I hated that guy so much. I'm so happy he's dead." Oh wait, that'll be me. I fucking HATE. YOU. And i wish the worst upon you. "Let people have opinions" not when they're negative about my son, my child. I hate every aspect of you. And I hope you perish and are tormented the worst way imaginable in hell. I hope one day you fucking rot. I hope you burn and survive. I hope you end up like the preschool teacher in South Park and can only beep on your machine for yes and no. I hope you'll be forgotten, and i hope nobody marries you. I hope you never get far enough in life and I hope you die early. I hope you die young. I hope you never get a spouse. i hate every section, every aspect, every part, I hate the blood that pumps in your veins, i hate everyone related to you, i hate your mom, i hate your dad, I hope one day, your bloodline disappears just like pip's did. I can't believe you'd really go on and hate on my son who did nothing wrong to you. And this is the longest thing i've EVER written without copy-paste.

[futurecorps3]

May I request Kaz caring for sick!reader? ❤️

Masterlist <3 -Requests are still open! (For any character of the fandoms in my masterlist)

This is a concept that I absolutely adore. I'm using fem!reader and established relationship for this one !<3 I hope you like it. I'm terribly sorry for the long delay! (Yes, we're going to pretend I never left and that I'm not back after being gone for like five months)

𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐲

WARNINGS: Mentions of death, illness, trauma related to those two, stabbing, blood,

»»————-　𓄿　————-««

He thinks it's, frankly, pathetic. To anyone outside the crows, and even people from inside the slat knew Kaz Brekker was not a man victim of guilt. If anything, guilt was his servant and his bitch, to say the least.

But here he was.

Knowing for a fact Y/N coming down with the worst cold he had seen in... several years, was completely and entirely his fault all because he insisted she had to stay outside the building to make sure no Stadwatch officers came near in the last job they got done.

Her being the most capable fighter of them all was his excuse, but both of them knew he didn't want her to go inside to dive into the smell of rotting corpses and the sight of the death itself. Which she had no issues on causing, but a fresh corpse is way far from a decomposing one.

She understood the difference perfectly. Her past taught her that particular lesson. It wasn't different for him, but he'd only stay near the door while Jesper grabbed the blueprints from that rich asshole's corpse and then get out fast.

She was perfectly fine, keeping both eyes open for anything odd.

It then started raining.

A thing she loved since she had arrived in Ketterdam. There was a certain air brought by the combination of wet alleyways and the noisy streets of the East Stave that brought comfort to her. She said that to him in one of their late-night conversations. But you didn't need to be as clever as Kaz to know that Y/N wouldn't particularly enjoy it as she did inside the comfort her room brought, being outside with no shelter from the little droplets of water, that is.

"Saints, doll, you're drenched!" was the first thing that came out of Jesper's mouth when he saw her after getting out of the morgue. She was. "Did you get them?" was the only thing she answered, wrapping her arms around her shoulders and moving them up and down trying to keep warm, miserably failing.

It had stopped raining a few minutes ago, so the wind was especially colder and faster. Kaz muttered a small "Yes" as he handed the blueprints to Inej for a quick second, taking off his long black coat and draping it over his lover's shoulders. "Let's go, quick," he ordered, keeping Y/N close to him. As close as he could, anyway; their arms touching and pinkies linked as they walked through the city, with Inej guarding them from above.

Kaz knew he should've asked Nina to check her pulse and temperature before she left, or even better, ask her to part to Fjerda the next morning in case Y/N got ill no matter how the girl insisted her friend should leave as soon as possible so the flowers the crows sent for Matthias wouldn't die. Nina left that same night and Y/N started sneezing soon after.

"Would you like some tea? Mom used to add honey, ginger and garlic on it when I had a cold" Wylan offered, seeing his friend's state as his boyfriend, Kaz, and Y/N sat on the small loft in the third floor of the Slat "That'd be great, thank you Wylan" she said, trying to clear her itchy throat. With that, Wylan excited the room with Jesper following after him.

"Are you warm?" Kaz asked, sitting next to her on the couch, stretching his bad leg over the table, being careful he didn't knock over any of the items on it "Mhm" she hummed, tracing small shapes on his gloved hand in search for some comfort. Kaz pulled away immediately to take the leather item off and pulled his hand closer to her thigh so she could continue. She did, giggling softly.

"Did you feel alright earlier?" this time she was the one asking, knowing how uncomfortable the situation could've made him. "It was fine. I didn't touch... it. You know seeing them isn't as bad as-" "Yes" she nodded "What did he even die from?" "Bastard got stabbed and bled to death in an alley, it was just a matter of time for someone of the many people who hated him acted" "Or for you to get him" she smiled, making him smirk softly "Or for me to get him".

"You should go to bed," he suggested, peeking over to the kitchen briefly and seeing Wylan and Jesper playing around with the honey, "They're taking their time" he sighed. Y/n tried turning her head quickly towards the other couple but hissed right away, placing her hand on her head after feeling a sharp sting. Kaz looked at her with worry behind his usual seemingly emotionless eyes.

"I-it's okay. Wylan was really thoughtful when he offered making something warm for me. I'm waiting until it's done," she said, closing her eyes tightly, waiting for the pain to go away. He couldn't bear the sight. He knew it was just a cold, but Y/N was in pain and uncomfortable, and even though he rarely got any rest, he knew it made one feel better.

"Go rest, I'll bring it to your room" he insisted, getting up and helping her up on the way "What if I fall asleep an-" "That'd be great. We can heat it up in the morning. Now go." It almost sounded like an order. Right before she turned around to do as he said, she stopped in her tracks and looked at him once again.

"Thank you," she whispered, now actually turning around to leave.

Kaz watched as Y/N turned to the left and into the hallway that led to her room. After putting his gloves back on and taking his cane , which was resting on another one of the small couches around the area, he stepped into the kitchen, finding Wylan sitting on top of a counter with Jesper standing between his legs.

"How is she?" the Zemeni boy asked, a tint of worry in his tone "Her head started to hurt so I advised she'd go to bed for now, I'll get her the tea when it's done" he answered, leaving his cane propped up against a chair and combing his fingers trough his slightly wet hair "I'm sure this will help," Wylan said "it always did with me, anyway".

Silence took over the room. Not an uncomfortable silence, but not a comfortable one either. Kaz knew for a fact his friends would be all over each other if he wasn't present, but he felt the need to ask something. Something that Inej and Nina would giggle about if they weren't fast asleep or boarding a boat at the moment.

"How do you do it?" he questioned, looking directly at Wylan. "Do what?" "The tea" "Why?" Jesper interrupted, pertinent as ever. "In case this little family tradition makes her feel better... I'd like to make it for her". The silence was even louder now, one of astonishment too. Both men shared looks of confusion, as if they didn't hear him right, splitting in cheesy smiles when they realized they had, in fact, heard Mr. Dirty Hands clearly.

It was all broken by the loud whistle of the kettle, a sharp sound filling the room before Wylan hopped off the counter to turn it off. He carefully grabbed a mug and poured some tea in it, handing it to Kaz after. "I'll tell you when you come back, lover-boy" he smiled, making the raven haired boy roll his eyes as he was handed the cup.

He left his cane behind, exciting the kitchen once again. The tea smelt sickeningly sweet and had a powerful scent of garlic that made Kaz's nostrils and eyes itch a little as he was subtly looking down at it to make sure it didn't spill. He knocked twice, pausing briefly and then knocked two times again, all delicately as to not wake her up in case she was already asleep.

"Come in"

Her room was one of his favorite places in this world. Everything about it screamed Y/N. From the pile of unread books on the desk that left just enough space for her to write and paint to the neatly folded clothes that belonged to both of them. He had insisted he could make his own laundry, but she knew he'd never find the time to do so, and Y/N never really minded helping out.

She was sitting on the bed in her cotton nightgown, propped up against the headboard with the wind crashing on her face. Icy wind. Kaz left the tea on her bedside table, rushing over as fast as his leg allowed him to close the window and curtains. "No!" she whined like a little girl, almost making the man giggle. "It's the only thing keeping me sane. It's fresh." "It is not fresh, it's cold and you're sick," he argued, adjusting the blankets over his lover, careful not to touch her.

Y/N looked up at him in awe. Y/N knew her boyfriend would never in a million years admit to ever be bothered. Kaz Brekker had things in control. If someone was one step ahead, Kaz Brekker was three steps ahead. Kaz Brekker didn't know fear. Most times, she found that to be true, and she had certainly been surprised plenty of times by his mind. That's one of the things that made her fall for him. But she knew it was always different when it came to her.

He became a professional overthinker about her safety and comfort. He just wanted the best for his girl and tried hard to show it the way he could. It was quite adorable to see him worry like this, especially when she really was feeling sick.

Kaz noticed her stare on him after gently tucking her in. "What?" he asked, trying to stop himself from grinning like stupid. "I'm going to get you sick." "Nonsense dear, I never get sick" he smirks, taking off his gloves to caress her cheek. Y/N leaned into the contact before he felt him tense up briefly to then pull away. At first, she thought the contact might've been too much for him but then he said in a very much worried tone a small "You're burning up".

Kaz didn't like her being sick but he knew that if she'd been cold, the water would've risen to his chest and he'd be a helpless little boy all over again, because then it wouldn't've been his girl, the light of his life. That person would've been Jordie. And he was going to lose her. Just like he did with his brother. So he thanked her fever, selfishly.

The boy walked to the bathroom, and she could hear the distant sound of water running. Sleep was taking over her, but she had to stay awake to drink the tea, so she tried her best and this time, succeeded. A few seconds after, her boyfriend was back at her side, now sitting on the other side of the bed while squeezing off the excess of water from the drenching washcloth he brought with him in a small bowl-like plate.

"I'm cold" she hissed when he placed the cloth on her forehead, drying the very few droplets that glided down her temples. "You're fully covered. It's this or have you take a cold bath. You look ill". From the short distance between her face and his, she could see how Kaz's brows were slightly furrowed and his eyes held what looked like guilt.

"This is not your fault," she assured, seeing her boy's eyes look up to hers, his gaze softening at the words. "You couldn't've known it was going to rain, and you were also trying to protect me from seeing the bodies. I'll get better, I'll live"

"You better, love" he smirked, letting the room fall in a very comforting silence, his doubts dissipating instantly. Y/N knew how to make him feel better. She made him better.

After an hour of Kaz playing with her hair as she breathed in and out with her eyes closed but not sleeping, she drank the tea, refreshing her throat a little but not stopping the sting she had been feeling for a while now. When the washcloth dried up, the fever had gone down, Kaz touching her face to make sure himself. Truth is, these little details here and there are what helped him overcome his aversion little by little. There was a long way to go yet, but Y/N was sure he'd make it one day.

Y/N yawned loudly, and Kaz knew it was time for him to go. He didn't want to, though. "Get some sleep. If you need anything, knock twice on the wall" he ordered requested, placing the now empty cup on her nightstand. "Yeah," she responded, laying on her side and pulling the covers up to her nose. "And you should too" she mumbled, already slipping away to a deep slumber.

"Took three seconds" Kaz thought, smiling to himself as he put his gloves on. Y/N laid so peacefully, making the boy realize she was his favorite part of being alive. She had a heart that kept others strong. And all is well. He's okay, she's okay, the crows are okay and even though they live in madness city... it's all okay. He picked up the drenched clothes she discarded hours ago and took them with him, closing the door after blowing the candles that lit the room dimly.

Over the next days, Kaz managed to balance the time between planning their next heist and taking care of Y/N. Which meant endless cups of Wylan's tea made by him, changing the sheets with Inej's help, and opening the windows to her room when the weather allowed it. Thanks to Kaz and the crows' cares, she was back after three days. And she could swear on everything she held sacred she heard Kaz cough a couple of times during that week.

But he'd do it all over again just so she felt better, because she was the one and only thing he held sacred. And if her being well meant he'd have to deal with coughing and a runny nose, he would gladly take it.

#kaz brekker fluff #kaz x reader #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker fic #kaz brekker angst #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker #six of crows x reader #six of crows imagine #six of crows #kaz dirtyhands brekker #grishaverse #grishaverse x reader #grishaverse fanfic #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker x oc #kaz brekker oneshot #kaz brekker x you #crows x reader #answered

[saintobio]

LOST WORLD

“when the end approaches, but the apocalypse is long lived.”

pairing. satoru gojou, reader

genre. angst, post apocalypse au

warnings. unedited, gore, death, zombies infectious diseases

Do you remember what life was before Satoru Gojou?

It was sad. Miserable. Pathetic in every sense. The world had no meaning, and existing felt like a punishment rather than a privilege. The things you were doing had no purpose. They were repetitive, soulless, and depressing. Each time you’d find yourself staring outside of the window, the skies were becoming gloomier. The miasma of decay was getting thicker. There was scarcity in food and water. Yet, there was no option to go outside of your abandoned home when an eerie fog with the acrid smell of rotting flesh and blood were everywhere haunting you.

At one point, rather than trying to survive in a world that no longer welcomed you, you believed it would have been easier to just perish. Die at long last just like everyone else you knew. The people who once had a family, a lover, a pet, and a friend—they used to be people like you. Alive and breathing under your warm skin and fully-functioning set of human organs. But now, they were the opposite of what you once knew. They had become ghastly, tottering creatures looking at you with their frenzied, colorless eyes, and their putrid, saliva-filled mouths. In fact, when a couple of them managed to break into your home, staggering to chase you around the house with the rabid eagerness to masticate on your innards, you thought of finally just letting things be. After all, no one was left. You were probably the only living being in an area full of decomposing, white-blanched corpses. With their wretched appearance and fetid smell, the last bits of humor inside of you wanted to go along and mimic their series of raspy growls. You were dying, anyway. Finally.

You knew you were dying. You anticipated how their disease would soon be inching its way into your flesh.

That, with no resistance, you would let yourself be one of them.

That was your plan. That was… until every single zombie in your vicinity was sniped with a shotgun. You could barely move as bits of flesh, blood, and sinew flew all over the place. Their skulls—busted. Their entrails—falling out. You would have screamed in disgust after seeing maggots crawl out of their eyes, but then your eyes caught sight of the hero who saved the poor damsel in distress. His arctic white hair, electric blue eyes, and porcelain skin. There was no sign of a single disease in his body.

Damn. How could one person shoot a shotgun with such precision and accuracy? But more importantly, how much of a cliche was it for him to show up and be your savior at the brink of your death?

“Satoru Gojou,” he’d easily introduced himself, pulling his makeshift mask down while standing tall behind the army of foul-smelling beasts that he just massacred. What a cool man. What a dream. What a… what a… hold on, wasn’t he too good to be true?

“I must be dead,” you even joked at the time despite your struggle to catch your breath, “There’s no way a random guy would just come up here and save me like this.”

One smirk from him was all it took to completely win you over. “You don’t look dead to me.” And then a hand to help you up. “Come on, we gotta leave this place.”

And so you did. You were brought to a safe haven that you never thought existed. You were acquainted with people who had a beating heart and an uninfected brain. You were given the golden ticket to cohabit with them in a secured camp and an acceptable living condition. Everything was rationed, but you had no right to ask for much in a situation like that. All you could offer was your gratefulness, and every time you saw your godly, angel-faced hero, you could not help but think of how much you owe your living life to him.

So much so that you would think about ways to approach him without becoming a bother. He was your typical popular guy, expected by the others to rescue their lives. You were just one of the many. He had the virtue of a soldier, ready for war just to make sure that his people were safe and sound. Maybe he actually was in the army before, which could explain the reason for his expertise in guns and survival. There was no way for you to know when you barely had the chance to talk to him, and sincerely thank him at the very least, for saving your life when you almost lost it.

But then, he must have heard the same thing from the countless women who followed his tail each time he arrived back in the camp. The ladies would scramble on their feet just to make sure that they were tending to his needs; feeding him warm meals, treating his wounds, making him laugh.

You see, crushing on a stranger was a ridiculous idea, especially in the middle of an apocalyptic world. You kept that thought in your head as you stepped through a pile of mud, cursing under your breath while continuing towards the pathway to the bonfire. No, you didn’t make it there. Because someone had smoothly pulled you by the belt loop, dragging you behind the tree before he revealed his most admiring self.

“S-Satoru,” you stammered without a reason. Or maybe you did have a reason. He was good-looking enough that your thoughts were becoming jumbled. A hot mess, truly, with his mop of white hair and his piercing blue eyes. Not to mention his parted, pink lips and his slightly exposed toned chest.

“You’re really out here pretending I don’t exist, huh?” There was that playful tone and that goddamned attractive smirk. With his hand moving to your lower back and his forearm resting on the trunk of the tree, you almost let out a swoon. “I was waiting for you to approach me.”

You turned your face away a little, only to a certain degree so he wouldn’t notice the heat on your cheeks. “That’s funny ‘cause… since that day, I’ve actually been waiting, too.”

“Hmm?” he tilted his head and deepened his gaze.

“I mean, waiting for an opportunity,” you clarified, releasing an awkward chuckle, “to talk to you and thank you. You’re just always surrounded by people, so…”

He straightened his posture as he pulled away and began nodding his head, as if he was connecting the dots in his head. “You can always walk up to me. Anytime,” he assured, “I’d actually love to know you more.”

You knew what everyone else might be thinking; ‘Seriously? You’re having a love affair in this situation?’

Well, if you were going to meet death, anyway, why should you settle being a miserable, lonely woman?

“You’re a miserable, lonely woman,” spoke one of the survivors in your cabin, Meredith, glaring at you with her arms crossed across your bunker. “That, or you just truly lost it.”

While she was laughing and moving her index finger in circles beside her head, the other survivor was decent enough to shush her, telling her to stop throwing insults towards you. “Quit doing that. She needs time to adjust,” said Shoko Ieiri, “It’s traumatizing out there, you know?”

“Yeah, but she still needs to help us with some errands here! We’re not living here for free. We have duties. Ugh… I’m so sick of cleaning the nasty toilets.”

“She’ll come around. Be patient with her.”

“She’s been here for two months! She can’t just stay in her bunker all day and do nothing!”

“Meredith—”

“Hey, lunatic!” her amber eyes bore into you. “Wake the fuck up and get your ass workin’. If you really wanna survive, you need to do your job.”

You took a deep breath and sighed. “Can I… Can I see Satoru first?”

Meredith let out a groan. “Here we go again.”

“Wh-Why?” you asked, frantically. “I just… I wanna talk to him. I wanna thank him for saving me.”

This time, it was Ieiri who sat at the corner of your bed, patting your back in a soothing motion. “Satoru is…” she hesitated. “He’s not here, Y/N. He never was.”

As if lightning struck your entire body. “What do you mean? What do you—? He was here. He was just talking to me last night!”

“I know, I know.” Ieiri sent you a look of sympathy. Sympathy that you didn’t really ask for. “I understand it’s been a difficult time. It’s been a really traumatizing experience, but trust me, everything’s going to be okay.”

You held onto her arms as tears pooled your eyes. All those voices in your head, the pain in your heart… “S-Stop. What are you saying, Ieiri? He was… He was with me.”

“He’s dead,” she said the very words you refused to hear. “He didn’t survive the first wave of zombies that infested our town.”

“But…” You shook your head in hard refusal. “But he was there, he rescued me.”

“It was Suguru who did,” Ieiri confirmed, reaching what appears to be a bottle of Fanapt pills under your pillow. “Satoru’s not with us anymore. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for your loss.”

#hello i’m not really back #i’m just dumping a wip that was rotting in my drafts for a long time #hope everyone’s been doing well #also i think i wrote sumn like this before but for another character #idk if this even makes sense #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojou x reader #satoru gojou x you

[curiositymemes]

STICK SEASON: WE'LL ALL BE HERE FOREVER.

taken from the 2023 album by noah kahan. trigger warnings for mental illness, trauma, medication, references to suicide, and the exquisite agony of life in rural new england. feel free to change wording and pronouns and provide context as necessary. do not add to this list.

northern attitude.

how you been? 

you settled down?

you feelin’ right? 

you feelin’ proud?

you settle in to routine.

what does it mean? 

i’m not how you hoped.

you’re gettin’ lost.

scared to live, scared to die. 

you’re feelin’ lost.

stick season.

you must’ve had yourself a change of heart.

now i am stuck between my anger and the blame that i can’t face.

it’s half my fault, but i just like to play the victim. 

i’ll dream each night of some version of you that i might not have but i did not lose. 

i thought that if i piled something good on all my bad i could cancel out the darkness i inherited from dad. 

i miss the way you laugh.

you once called me forever now you still can’t call me back.

that’ll have to do.

my other half was you.

i hope this pain’s just passin’ through, but i doubt it. 

all my love.

how have things been?

well, love, now that you mention it.

i’m sayin’ too much, but you know how it gets out here.

now i know your name, but not who you are.

it’s all okay, there ain’t a drop of bad blood.

you got all my love.

if you need me, dear, i’m the same as i was.

what i’d give to have you out of me.

i still recall how the leather in your car feels.

and at the end of it all, i just hope that your scars heal.

i swear i was scared to death.

i smiled stupid the whole way home.

you said, ‘i’ll never let you go.’

she calls me back.

there was heaven in your eyes. 

everything’s alright.

look at me and don’t you lie.

don’t you hold your head up high.

for bullshit, i do not have time.

do you lie awake restless?

why am i so obsessive?

this town’s the same as you left it.

the radio is taunting me.

i don’t get much sleep most nights.

i’m seeing you in every dream.

if only i could fall asleep. 

i’ll love you when the oceans dry. 

i was too afraid of living life in your footsteps.

come over.

it was there when we got here, will be there when we leave.

you won’t have to guess who they’re speakin’ about.

i’m in the process of clearin’ out cobwebs. 

i was takin’ the wrong meds; feels good to be sad.

my house is just barely big enough for my family.

my mouth was designed for my foot to fit in it.

i promise you, darlin’.

you won’t ever go back.

i know that it ain’t much.

i know that it ain’t cool.

you don’t have to tell the other kids at school.

someday i’m gonna be somebody people want.

new perspective.

makin’ me nostalgic.

we were kids; but that don’t make this less hard.

if i could fly i doubt i’d even do it. 

i’d probably get high and crash or somethin’ stupid.

gave me your word.

i can’t pronounce it.

no thing so sure that i can’t learn to doubt it.

everywhere, everything.

would we survive in a horror movie?

we trust everyone we meet.

we’re littered with scars from our preteens.

i wanna love you ‘til we’re food for the worms to eat.

‘til our fingers decompose, keep my hand in yours. 

i know every route in this county.

maybe that ain’t such a bad thing.

i’ll tell you where not to speed.

it’s been a long year.

orange juice.

honey, come over.

it’s yours if you want it.

we’re just glad you could visit. 

feels like i’ve been ready for you to come home for so long.

i didn’t think to ask you where you’d gone. 

why’d you go?

my heart has changed and my soul has changed.

you just asked me to hold you.

it made you a stranger and it filled you with anger.

my life has changed.

the world has changed.

don’t you find it strange that you just went ahead and carried on?

are we all just pullin’ you down?

strawberry wine.

darling, speak to me.

don’t you say a word.

you thought you were cursed?

i’m in love with every song you’ve ever heard.

if i could lose you, i would.

all the time we used to have.

the things i miss but know are never coming back. 

no thing defines a man like love that makes him soft.

growing sideways.

finally found some middle ground.

i said, ‘i’m cured.’

i divvied up my anger into thirty separate parts.

i’m still angry at my parents for what their parents did to them.

it’s a start.

but i ignore things and i move sideways ‘til i forget what i felt in the first place.

i know there are worse ways to stay alive.

everyone’s growing and everyone’s healthy.

if my engine works perfect on empty, i guess i’ll drive. 

i forgot my medication, fell into a manic high.

now i’m sufferin’ in style.

why is pain so damn impatient? ain’t like it’s got a place to be.

if all my time was wasted, i don’t mind. 

i’ll watch it go.

it’s better to die numb than feel it all.

halloween.

the dawn isn’t here, the sun hasn’t rose.

they got money to make and children back home.

i worry for you, you worry for me.

the bridges have long since been burnt. 

i’m leavin’ this town and i’m changin’ my address.

i know that you’ll come if you want.

i’m losin’ myself.

i’m seein’ my life on a screen.

i know that you fear that i’m wicked and weary.

i know that you’re fearin’ the end. 

i only tell the truth when i’m sure that i’m lyin’. 

homesick.

are you bored yet?

the weather ain’t been bad if you’re into masochistic bullshit.

this place is such great motivation for anyone tryna move the fuck away from hibernation. 

time moves so damn slow i swear i feel my organs failing.

i stopped caring ‘bout a month ago, since then it’s been smooth sailing. 

i would leave if only i could find a reason. 

i got dreams, but i cant make myself believe them. 

i’ll spend the rest of my life with what could have been. 

i will die in the house that i grew up in.

i’m homesick. 

still.

i don’t wanna say goodbye.

it only falls into place when you’re fallin’ to pieces.

you miss something that you can’t place but you can’t deny it. 

you can’t stay here.

it’s hard to face and it feels too ugly.

it’s like i’m still here with you. 

can i fix what is broken?

the view between villages (extended). 

for a minute, the world seems so simple.

i am not scared of death.

i’ve got dreams again.

there is meanin’ on earth. 

i feel so far from it.

it’s all washin’ over me. 

i’m angry again. 

the things that i lost here, the people i knew.

they got me surrounded for a mile or two. 

i found a town big enough for anything i want.

i’m not a city girl, by any means.

it still has a lot of meaning to me.

i grew up there. 

your needs, my needs.

you ain’t gotta tell me what it means.

i promise to be there this time. alright? 

you were a work of art.

that’s the hardest part.

i’m naming the stars in the sky after you.

dial drunk.

i promised to forget you.

i ain’t takin’ any fault.

am i half the man i used to be? i doubt it.

forget about it, whatever.

it’s all the same anyways.

i ain’t proud of all the punches that i’ve thrown. 

for the shame of being young, drunk, and alone.

i gave your name as my emergency phone call.

i’d die for you.

from charmin’ to alarmin’ in seconds.

i’ll let the pain metastasize.

i beg you, sir, just let me call.

let’s wait, i swear she’ll call me back.

son, are you a danger to yourself?

fuck that, sir.

son, why do you do this to yourself?

paul revere.

this place had a heartbeat in its day.

nothin’ was the same.

it just ain’t that simple, it never was.

one day i’m gonna cut it clear.

i’m not from around here.

i’ll leave before the road crew’s out. 

i’ll turn up the music and i’ll forget.

i’m not ready to let go yet.

i’ll just pretend i didn’t hear.

it’s typical, i fear.

folks just disappear.

if i could leave, i would’ve already left.

no complaints.

i thought i had something and that’s the same as having something.

i get mad at nothing.

i pull no punches, then feel bad for months.

thought i was raised better, tried to fake better.

now the weight of the world ain’t so bad.

i saw the end, it looks just like the middle.

i filled the hole in my head with prescription medication.

who am i to complain?

now the pain’s different. It still exists, it just escapes different.

yes, i’m young and living dreams.

i’m in love with being noticed and afraid of being seen.

call your mom.

oh, you’re spiralin’ again.

don’t you cancel any plans.

stayed on the line with you the entire night ‘til you let it out and let it in.

don’t let this darkness fool you.

i’ll drive all night.

i’ll call your mom.

oh, dear, don’t be discouraged.

i’ve been exactly where you are.

if you could see yourself like this.

you’dve never tried it.

stayed on the line with you the entire night ‘til you told me that you had to go.

throw a punch, fall in love, give yourself a reason.

don’t wanna drive another mile wonderin’ if you’re breathin’.

won’t you stay with me?

you’re gonna go far. 

this is good land, or at least it was.

it takes a strong hand and a sound mind.

it makes me smile to know when things get hard, you’ll be far from here.

pack up your car.

put a hand to your heart.

say whatever you feel.

be wherever you are.

we ain’t angry at you, love. 

you’re the greatest thing we’ve lost.

the birds will still sing.

we’ll be waiting for you, love.

we’ll all be here forever.

we spent so long just getting by.

that’s the thing about survival; who the hell likes livin’ just to die?

you told me you would make a difference.

it won’t be by your own volition if you step foot outside this town.

it’s all we’ve had for always.

you’re gonna go far.

if you wanna go far, then you gotta go far.

forever.

let’s drive for no reason.

you look fine in the evening.

honey, it’s starting to storm.

used to wish i meant anything to anywhere, to anyone.

i’m glad i get forever to see where you end.

i won’t be alone for the rest of my life.

i’ll meet a girl in the heat of july.

i’ll tell her so she knows.

i’m broke, but i’m real rich in my head.

when i hold her close, i might loosen my grip, but i won’t ever let her go.

#rp meme #roleplay meme #sentence starters #dialogue #dialog prompts #ask meme #writing promtps #roleplay prompts #ask prompts #rp prompts #roleplay prompt #inbox meme #angst #humor #romance #long post tw #long post #stick season sentence starters #oh my GOD this album... #if you want to find out exactly what is wrong with me you'll listen to it #it's so incredibly important to me #and it's been on repeat for like. six months. #i'm no shit from like an hour and a half away from where he's from and it's just. it's such a masterpiece. #nothing has ever spoken to me so deeply and so profoundly in the way that this has #what's everyone's favorite song from it?? mine are paul revere and you're gonna go far #if i had to pick. but they're all just. GENIUS. #alcohol tw #drinking tw

[fireflice]

Losing feeling is getting old

You can’t remember the last time someone cared for you, having lived your life completely on your own from a young age. Now, there was someone trying to break down those walls, yet they had walls of their own. What happens when two emotionally stunted people realize that they care for one another?

Joel x reader | gender neutral!reader | age gap (reader is 20+) | Events take place in Boston before Ellie | TW: Injury, blood, illness

It was well into the night when you arrived home, heaving with each agonizing step up those beaten down stairs in your apartment complex. Things had gone exceptionally wrong this night, the group you had been travelling with having come into some trouble with a crowd of raiders along the outskirts of the QZ. Clearly things hadn’t gone to plan, having been split up from the rest of your comrades during the altercation, so you had been left to get back home on your own accord despite having gained a few injuries.

Pushing the door open with a resounding thud, regardless of the time, you gripped at the angry wound on your side as the pounding behind your eyes grew ever incessant with each passing second. Someone had managed to get you in the head with some sort of blunt object, and with the slurry of nausea that had begun to settle in your stomach, it likely had caused a concussion. All of this was secondary to the effects of the blood loss from the slash that had broken apart your skin, crimson staining the clothes on your left side.

You needed to lay down, and the couch looked inviting enough, hobbling over with another deep sigh as you lowered your aching body onto the cushions. It wasn’t long before the dingy walls of your apartment began to fade into darkness, falling into an exhaustion induced slumber.

-

A deep rumble of someone’s voice had managed to pull you out of the unsettled sleep that had enveloped you only moments after laying down. How long had you been out?

“Hey...you’re bleedin' out.”

Your eyes cracked open after a moment of trying to distinguish the owner of the voice, and only then did you realize the weight of a strong pair of hands attempting to push your body upright along the couch cushions.

Eventually, you had been shifted into more of a sitting position, eliciting a soft sound of defiance as your body screamed in pain.

“You’re alright.”

Only now did you let your attention focus back on the other person in the room, recognizing that gruff appearance and abrasive tone anywhere.

Joel.

“Looks like you’re already startin' to decompose.” He grumbled, though it took you a moment to respond, still completely in shock from nothing related to your injuries, but more so the fact that Joel was here, crouching in front of your tender body that was now coming back to life with jolts of pain. Dark eyes searched your own, and you must look pretty worse for wear based on how the man was observing you with a light furrow in his brow.

Your lips dropped open to reply, but the other cut you off before you had a chance, likely sensing your confusion.

“Tess caught some of the others on their way back. They mentioned you’d been separated, so I came to see if you were still alive.” He drawled, that Texan accent coating each word like a thick layer of honey.

“Still here, somehow.” You huffed out a short laugh, and it only caused another bout of pain to flare behind your eyes, wincing with the pressure.

“Stop movin’, I’ll be back in a second.” Joel announced suddenly, shifting to get up from where he had been crouched with a groan of his own, heading in the direction of your busted kitchen cabinets. He knew that you’d have some alcohol stashed somewhere, grabbing a half empty bottle and a nearby cloth that looked clean enough before returning, this time sitting himself at your side on the couch.

“If you don’t die from blood loss, surely the infection will get ya.” And without any warning, those rough hands were pushing your own out of the way, pulling up the blood soaked shirt that had adhered itself to your skin, his gaze never wavering from the task at hand. Joel carefully doused the cloth in a sufficient amount of alcohol, before bringing it to the wound at your side, the sting of it immediately burning as he wiped away some of the dried blood, and all you could do was whine in agony and attempt to keep yourself upright with whatever strength you had left. The slash was deep, but nothing important had been damaged. With the proper care, it would become nothing more than an ugly scar.

The room fell silent for a moment as the man worked on cleaning up your wound, thick with the words that neither of you dared to speak for fear of breaking the stillness. It was all still somewhat of a shock, not only Joel being in your apartment, but tending to your injuries without being summoned to do so. The guy was brash and frightening to most, having a reputation for keeping to himself majority of the time, much like yourself. The both of you had been known to skirt around one another, too similar in your ways which tended to result in clashing opinions. Joel was just as emotionally distant as you were, which is why the current circumstances were so surreal.

“Bandages?” He asked after what felt like an eternity, your eyes catching his own before flicking away, though you could feel his gaze searching the side of your face regardless.

“Bathroom, under the sink.” You managed to wheeze out, and without any time to spare, the man was up from the couch to go retrieve those as well, returning just as quickly as he had left.

It felt incredibly odd to just sit here while Joel rummaged around your apartment, the couch dipping down with his weight once more so that he could attend to your injuries. It was even stranger when the man took your hand ever so gently to place it against the cut on your side, instructing you to apply pressure while he prepared the bandages.

Nonetheless, you listened, too worn down to question much of anything right now, and pushed as hard as you could muster against the cut in your skin, biting at your lip enough to potentially draw blood as to not let out any more cries of pain. This didn’t last long however, as Joel once again removed your hands so that he could apply the bandages swiftly, years of experience coming in handy.

“Jesus, you been bleedin’ out all this time.” He muttered as he worked, finishing off the patch up job with another swipe of the cloth against your side to assure that most of the blood was cleared.

The room quickly fell quiet again, your head swivelling slowly to look at the man at your side, only to see that Joel was still holding onto the fabric of your ruined shirt, clearly contemplating what to do next. You could nearly see the gears turning behind that crease between his thick eyebrows.

“Grab me some clean clothes.” You said, cutting the tension and giving the other something to do besides sit there, but it was also a way to get a bit of distance between the both of you. This closeness was overwhelming in every sense, and maybe it was the concussion speaking, but you were starting to feel slightly sick from it.

Joel was not gentle, he was not kind, and he certainly wasn’t one to coddle or look after anyone unless the situation was dire. Even then, you had only observed this behaviour when it came to Tess, most people assuming that the two of them were indeed a couple, though nothing had been confirmed. It was almost as if he had been possessed, peering over to where the man had walked into your bedroom to forage through the drawers in search for something new for you to wear. Maybe you really were dying and simply experiencing hallucinations, as that could be the only explanation for all of this.

Before Joel could return, your injuries made themselves known once again with another wave of feeling lightheaded, toppling sideways on the cushions as before. The blood loss was extensive, the concussion just as troubling, and regardless of the older man who was now making his way back over in your direction, your vision went black around the edges until you could no longer see at all, fading out of consciousness.

-

It felt all too familiar, the hazy blur of your surroundings coupled with the heat of something weighing down on your body, except this time the warmth was much more substantial and fairly noticeable than before. You were lodged against something solid, resembling the rigidity of your broken-down mattress, though there was a sort of softness that was foreign to your usual surroundings. "Good, you didn't die on me." Oh right, Joel was here. Joel was still here, but not only that, he was in your room, perched on the edge of the bed. Looking down, you notice the change in your attire, now dressed in a thick sweater and some old sweatpants you had stashed away, a blanket tucked over your hips. Your body still ached and your head felt even worse, but at least this was a tad more comfortable than where you had previously blacked out on the couch. "You needed to get warm." He mumbled in explanation after noticing the way you were examining your surroundings. Only now was it sinking in that it wasn't possible for you to get dressed on your own, as you had been unconscious. That must be the reason that Joel was refusing to even turn his head in your direction, staring off at one of the bedroom walls as if it was suddenly so interesting. So that means...Joel had seen everything. That wasn't mortifying or anything. Despite the invasion of privacy, it was a thoughtful gesture that you greatly appreciated. "Thanks...this is a lot better." You say with a soft sigh, sinking into the pillow beneath your throbbing head. Still, the man doesn't bother to look in your direction, and now that things had settled down, those questions from before had risen up once again, despite the nerves at figuring out what had happened while you weren't mentally present. So you decide to finally ask. "Why are you still here?" And now the other had finally dared to look at you, those heavy eyes peering into your own with an unreadable face to match. Joel was a hard guy to understand and an even harder one to break, so when his body shifted along the mattress to turn more in your direction, it made your breath hitch in your throat, which at least you could blame on your unstable condition if he had noticed it. "You'd be fuckin' dead if it weren't for me." He grumbled, attempting to deflect the genuine tone attached to your question, but you could see right through the way his eyes flicked away from yours before returning again. As strange as this was for you, it was clearly just as strange for him, despite his continuously caring actions. "I know, and I'm grateful. I appreciate you looking out for me-" And before you could get another word out, the man let out a scoff, head shaking before locking his gaze on your confused expression. "I shouldn't have to be lookin' out for you. If you weren't so goddamn careless, I wouldn't have to be here." He barked, leaning in on the mattress to where he was almost towering over your battered body, imposing in your personal space without hesitance. "I didn't ask you to do this, Joel. I didn't ask you to stay." You countered, the raised tone of your voice doing nothing to help the pounding behind your eyes. "But I had to stay, didn't I? I had to make sure you didn't fuckin' bleed out on the floor. I couldn't let you go out like that." He sighed in response, and just for a second, there was a flash of something across that worn down face of the man above you, something that let you catch a glimpse of the ‘monster’ behind the walls that he built up to keep everyone out. Something that alluded to the fact that Joel might actually care, and that thought was scarier than whatever was going on with you physically. "Why…?” And you knew that this continual questioning must be grating on the man’s nerves, but you just had to know. What was the motivation behind all of this? You had found yourself beginning to warm up to Joel over time, but it seemed nearly impossible that he felt the same way towards you.

After a myriad of silence, you asked once again, and this time it was met with another deep sigh from the man, his gaze straying from your face to rest somewhere along the bed, avoiding your eyes directly.

“I told myself i’d keep you safe.” He revealed quietly after a moment of heavy silence, and for such a simple statement, it hit you like a truck. It was essentially, in Joel’s own terms, a confession of fondness. For the man to go out of his way to ensure your safety and general wellbeing was confusing to say the least, and however much you wanted to accept it, you just couldn’t.

You had been so independent for so long, physically incapable of allowing anyone to tend on you unless absolutely necessary, and this entire encounter had already been more than you could usually handle. The embarrassment was slowly beginning to creep in, those tendencies to push people away coming back in full force, and now it was your turn to avert your gaze away from the other.

“Please…you don’t have to.” You attempted to weakly plead, but it wasn’t very convincing despite your efforts. “I can handle myself.”

“Like hell you can” Joel countered before you were even finished speaking. The man was no fool, and it was blatantly obvious that you were neglecting your own health lately, especially with the current circumstances.

Despite the harshness in which he had been speaking to you thus far, you noted that his expression had softened out just slightly, or at least you thought so based on the stolen glances you took in between staring at the tattered blankets thrown across your lower half.

The tension in the room could be cut with a knife, and it seemed like neither of you wished to speak and cause a disturbance to the awkward silence that had been created, until Joel finally took a breath.

“Scoot over.” He demanded suddenly, giving you no time to adjust as he shifted to drag his legs up onto the bed, seemingly intent on settling down beside you. It was shocking to say the least, but you complied easily, making enough room for the man to rest himself at your side, his back pressed against the headboard.

You could never have imagined yourself in a situation such as this, bleeding and battered with the man that was Joel Miller having been the one to take care of you, and was now joining you by resting atop your sheets. The both of you were quiet, refusing to ruffle the somewhat comfortable silence that had settled, only the sound of your conjoined breathing echoing around the shabby room. Without realizing, you had faded into a light slumber from the gentle, soothing silence that engulfed you, only waking when a patrol vehicle barrelled down the street at some hour during the early morning, the engine rumbling loud enough to agitate your aching head. As you came into consciousness, the wound on your side screaming to remind you of its presence, you could only focus on the heat that was pressed against your back that was overwhelmingly obvious, with only one thing that could be the culprit, causing your heart to pick up at even the mere thought of such a thing. It was an agonizing process to roll over on the bed, the throbbing behind your eyes only worsening with each strenuous movement, but it was well worth it to bear witness to the sight before you once you had finally managed to flip over. Joel lay at your side, an arm lightly slung over your waist that had been somewhat disturbed by your change in position, sleeping soundly as you had never seen him do before. Oftentimes, Joel had elected himself as the lookout when necessary during supply runs, so it was truly an extraordinary display to see the man resting in such a way as this, dead to the world as light breaths passed his lips, in awe that you were able to observe him so closely. His thick brows had lost the seemingly permanent crease between them, with dark lashes resting against his tanned skin. It was unusual to see Joel without his classic scowl, but you decided that you much preferred this expression.

"Go back to sleep." And the sudden low grumbling had startled you, only realizing that the man was somewhat awake after your heart had calmed down from the fright, which meant that he was clearly aware that you had been staring at him. How embarrassing. It would be bold to act on your sleepy impulses, afraid of testing the waters, but it was ultimately the slight tug on your clothes from the others hand that had convinced you to settle down once again, still facing the rugged man that had placed you in bed and decided to crawl in beside you. It still felt unreal, especially in the early morning light that had begun to peek through tattered curtains, illuminating the high points of Joel's angled features. Finally, you decided to do as you had been told, shifting to nudge your face against the mans chest, able to catch the scent of smoke, what was surely just dirt, and something that was inherently just Joel. He didn't oppose to the action, so you stayed put, comforted by the warmth that his solid body provided. In this place, your wounds had been forgotten, the fear and uneasiness you had felt all your life merely fading into the background. All that mattered at this moment was the strong arm that held you close, but gentle all the same. You were safe, and even if the morning would come to be confusing and awkward when the both of you were to face the reality of the chaos from the night before, that was a problem for then, not now. At this moment, this was something that you had not known you were craving, but it was filling a gap that you were unaware had even been there. It was uncharacteristic for the both of you, not to mention a complete shift in whatever relationship had been established previously, yet it felt all too natural. Joel was beside you, he had stayed the night after cleaning you up from your injuries, and that meant more than you could ever put into words. Perhaps he would deny his actions once the sun rose fully, but for now, he was resting peacefully with a grip on your waist. However he tried to deny it, you would still know the truth. However you tried to deny your own feelings, it would be the same. For right now, you were together, whatever that could possibly mean in the future.

#joel x reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller #the last of us #tlou x reader #tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #ace drabbles #I have not written in a long time pls be nice to me

[syntia13treeman]

Case files 03.01

what I think happened in:

Case 03.01, the case of "Guilt in the Grief Garden" or "Ashes to ashes, meat to roots".

Oh boy, this one's a doozy. Let's go. On 3rd of April 2009 Special Constable Caroline Jennings, 2911, logs a homicide case involving: -Maddie Webber (deceased) -Gerald Andrews (alive ???) -grief counsellor Harriot Manning (hopefully alive) -Dr. Samuel Webber (deceased. Very, very deceased. He is SO dead you guys). -one buried briefcase with its content.

What we know: Dr. Samuel Webber had a wife (Maddie) and his work. He prioritized his work. Maddie was not very happy. Maddie left Samuel (possibly for Gerald), and left some of her things in storage unit when she moved out. Samuel was not very happy. He went to grief counsellor to deal. He got a nice grief-journal, but failed to deal. Obtained medical files of both Maddie and Gerald. Possibly killed Maddie (deceased). Possibly killed or planned to kill Gerald (no status note). Had a panic attack in public, shortly after the (possible) murder. He run away, decided to 'lie low'.

*deep breath* ok, here we go:

Smell of jasmine lures him into a garden that is in full bloom in December (sus) and surrounds 'ruins of bombed-out church' (very sus). He lies down in the wildflowers (as you do) and starts writing in his journal - thoughts, observations and lists. He likes lists. Then he starts hearing, and possibly seeing, Maddie (he seems to be gradually loosing memories, or maybe reliving random phases of his relationship with Maddie.).

And also he starts decomposing (starting from the scratches he got when getting through the bushes). And he's 'pruning' parts of himself. And he writes the whole process down, very clinically but also in a very poetically graphic way.

At some point he tries to leave but can't find a way out and might actually never have tried at all. Oh, and Maddie is definitely with him now, taking care of him and advising on gardening methods, so sweet of her.

Did I mention that at one point Samuel pulls his finger bones out of his left hand and plants them like seeds? He does that. Now you know.

And the more he falls apart, the more cheerful and awed by nature he gets. (Don't pay any attention to the deeply buried part of him that shakes in terror, it's not relevant). It's been night for so long, but now finally there's the sun and Maddie's with him and Samuel is happy. Also probably a tree, or, more likely, a shrub of jasmine.

What we don't know: anything.

Of note: Samuel was not in good mental state when he was writing (duh), and possibly hasn't been for a long time before that. The man is like an avatar of Unreliable Narrator. Any and all of the above might or might not have happened. Maddie left him, and she is dead - but did she leave him for a younger man, or did she leave because he was being both distant and possessive and controlling ("I worry when she is out alone"). (He got paranoid about someone looking at him in subway, he might have been paranoid about his wife talking to another man one time). Did he kill her, or did she die of illness / accident? Was the grief counselling for divorce, or for her death? He had medical files for the (alleged) lover too - did he plan on killing him? Did he succeed? More interestingly:

1). what is up with dates? The police has found and reported the journal in April of 2009, but the date of 'relevant entry' is 07-12-09. Read conventionally, that would be 7th of December 2009, so what's up with that? Was it:

time shenanigans?

Samuel was so out of it he didn't know what year it was

Samuel wrote the date backwards, so it was actually 9th of December 2007 when he got plantified, and his briefcase wasn't found until over a year later.

2). What about Maddie? Samuel kept hearing/seeing her while decomposing in the garden. Was it:

hallucination of his own guilt-ridden mind

Maddie's ghost

something else, using Maddie's voice to trick Samuel into false sense of security?

I don't know, but I see you, loss and regret and longing for loved one's voice. Don't think that I don't. I'm onto you, you little bastards.

#the magnus protocol #tmagp #tmagp case files #tmagp case 03.01 #tmagp 03 #Gruesome Garden TM #ep. written by Graeme Patrick #ep. written by G.P+J.S+A.J.N

[astraystayyh]

I am unsure how to speak about Palestine. People keep telling me they fired first and my google searches are very bad

Hey, glad you sent in this ask! People who claim that Palestine initiated the firing view October 7th as an isolated event, when we cannot treat it as such. Oct 7 comes as a response to a 75 year colonization. Just like Hamas was founded in 1987 during the First Intifada- a series of civilian protests, where Palestinians threw stones at soldiers, and were met by a disproportionate and liberal use of force as described by a Humans Rights Watch report.

How could Palestine fire first when Hamas was created in direct response to the displacement and colonization that Palestinians faced? Hamas wouldn't have existed if Israel didn't murder, unlawfully imprison, torture and displace Palestinians. Oct 7 wasn't an isolate incident, every action implicates a reaction and every occupation leads to a resistance.

The west claims that Israel has a right to defend itself, leading in two months alone to the mass and brutal murder of 16.000+ civilians. But Palestine cannot defend itself against its colonizers (Just like Ukraine has done for example against Russia, a resistance backed by the American and European powers alike?)

I urge you to read about all the massacres Israel committed against Palestinians prior to Oct 7, so you'd understand better that Palestine did not fire first. Israel did not even exist prior to 1948 for Palestine to attack it.

And, let's be honest for a second. If someone comes into your home, forces you out of it, destroys it, murders everyone you know, denies you of your most basic rights, unlawfully imprisons you, tortures you physically and psychologically, destroys your land and hinders your agriculture and destroys your libraries and erases your culture, would you not resist? Would you stay silent? Of course not, and Palestinians shouldn't be dehumanized and killed for it.

Now for your second point, I'm glad you brought that up because western media is very very biased. To give you some examples, here is a Washington Post headline about four premature babies that died, decomposing on their hospital beds in Al-Nasr Hospital, in northern Gaza. They were left in the prenatal care after Israel threatened doctors to bomb the hospital if they didn't evacuate it.

"Four fragiles lives found ended"

Who ended them? Why were they in that situation to begin with? Who was behind their tragic murder? The journalist behind this post deliberately chose this title to avoid pointing the blame to Israel. In fact, the entire article doesn't directly nor clearly state the reason behind this slow and torturous death. When those four babies would not have died IF Israel didn't threaten to bomb their hospital, forcing everyone to evacuate.

We as journalists learn that the 5Ws are the essential key elements that form the basis of any article : who? where? when? what? how/why? Israel should be clearly denounced as the one responsible of those deaths, especially considering that it's a war crime underneath the Geneva convention.

Let's take another example. Pay attention to elusive langage and the way media skirts around words, using euphemisms to redirect the blame. Palestinians "die"- as if passing away due to natural causes, as if there wasn't a clear intent to murder them. Whereas Israelis are "killed"- deliberately targeted. This double standard already shows you that the media you're reading from is heavily biased.

We journalists also learn that headlines are very very important, especially on social media where most people get their information strictly by reading the headlines and sharing it, without bothering to check the entirety of the article. Now, here's an example of a misleading headline by BBC.

At first read this looks like confirmed accounts of rape. Anyone who reads it would think that it has been proven irrevocably, but let's look more into the article :

None of the rape accusations were verified, neither by the police or the journalists of BBC. All of these are alleged claims that have no tangible backing, and yet they were presented as factual in the headline, the most important part of any article that catches the attention of readers. By formulating the headline as such, BBC pre-establishes the premise that Hamas did rape women and that it has been proven. This is the information that most people would retain as they wouldn't bother reading the article. This is how propaganda starts and how false news are shared widely (remember the story of the 40 beheaded babies debunked by the IDF itself?)

Always look out for the langage and terminology the media uses. It is not coincidental, it is deliberate and it serves the interests/editorial line of the media. And you can speak up about Palestine by denouncing the genocide they're facing. If you can read about 16.000+ deaths, most of which are children, if you can see images of hospitals, refugee camps, schools, ambulances, houses, "safe routes" bombed by Israel and still be unsure of your stance, then i don't know what to tell you.

#free palestine #free gaza

[french-unknown]

𝖍𝖔𝖗𝖗𝖔𝖗 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖗𝖔𝖇𝖎𝖓

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗: robin 𝖈/𝖜: buried alive 𝖜/𝖈: 2.1k + 𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: The pleasure of waking up next to Robin had always been among the sweetest moments of your day. Doing it locked in a coffin under several meters of earth was surprisingly not one of them.

| m a s t e r l i s t | - | e v e n t . s u m m a r y |

𝖗𝖔𝖇𝖎𝖓

The first thing you noticed when you opened your eyes was the pitch black.

You were lying on a hard surface and, disoriented and not seeing anything around you, you reached out to turn on the light. However, the only thing you touched was another smooth, cold surface to your right. Then above you. Only something warm and soft rested to your left and, although you suspected it must be a human body, you didn't know who it was.

You didn't understand what was happening.

Your breathing began to become shorter and shallower as you continued to touch what was around you. Panicked, you found no way out.

You were locked in a small box with a body.

You felt your heart racing as sweat accumulated all over your body. Your rapid, frightened breaths also let nothing pass except an unpleasant smell of mold and humidity. You were petrified, terrified and panicked.

“Could you calm down?” A familiar voice whispered next to you as the body you thought was dead began to gesticulate. "We'll soon run out of oxygen if you keep breathing like that, and we're really going to die."

The thought that you would run out of oxygen hit you like a bullet. You panicked even more and it had even more of an impact on your breathing.

“Robin.” you called after her helplessly.

"It'll be OK." the woman replied, placing her hand in yours as best she could. “Breathe with me. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out.”

Then she continued to repeat those words to you until your breathing calmed and your heartbeat returned to a more normal rhythm. Her hand remained intertwined with yours the entire time and you almost felt like you could see her blue eyes in the dark. The thought that your hand must be sweaty in hers crossed your mind before it was brushed away just as quickly.

“What are we doing here?” you asked, totally overwhelmed by the events.

Before waking up here, you remembered opening your eyes in the arms of the archaeologist this morning. In your bed on the Thousand Sunny with good lighting and, above all, plenty of space in your room.

Against your shoulder, you guessed that she raised hers.

"I don't really know." she replied simply. "I just remember the CP9 agents carrying me to a coffin before I passed out. Maybe they wanted to eliminate me quietly and you were collateral damage. And they abandoned us in this coffin under two meters of earth."

A shiver will run down your spine.

“Are you telling me we’re in a coffin under several meters of earth?” You repeated in disbelief. You hoped deep down that this was just one of her morbid jokes.

“Mmm.” she muttered. “And we risk dying of asphyxiation if we stay here.”

The fear started to creep up on you again so you immediately closed your eyes to control your breathing again. You weren't stuck in a small wooden box with your lover under several meters of earth. You weren't going to die of asphyxiation from a lack of oxygen in that damn coffin. You weren't going to die in a strange place without anyone ever finding your decomposed body.

As you managed to bring down your anxiety, miraculously, you tried your best to forget the walls that locked you away.

"It's going to be okay. After all, we're not dead yet." Robin tried to reassure you. "And there are worse ways to die than by suffocation. We could have been tortured to death or hanged on the scaffold. Apparently, some of the condemned did not die instantly and remained in agony for da- "

“I have the picture, thank you.” You retorted dryly.

“Do you trust me?” she asked suddenly.

You nodded as usual before remembering that she couldn't see you. You then answered in the affirmative out loud.

"Okay. I'm going to need you to kick the bottom of the lid with me to break it slightly." she explained to you seriously. "When the earth will seep in, we will compact it with our feet and hands to free up a little space above us. Then I'll be able to half-open the lid with my devil fruit and we'll dig little by little to the surface. Alright?”

You broke into a cold sweat at the idea of finding yourself buried in the earth inside the coffin itself.

“Can’t you open the lid directly?” You whispered weakly.

"Unfortunately, no." she said before adding more discreetly, fearing to scare you even more. "There's too much weight above us. I'm sorry but we'll have to start now. I don't know how much time we have left."

You found yourself glancing around but you still only saw darkness.

A flash passed before your eyes of your lifeless body, which would gray here in several years. Initially swollen before gradually decomposing in this damp and anonymous grave in the middle of nowhere. Forgotten by everyone.

You swallowed back the tears that were welling up in your eyes and gave the first kick.

From the moment the archaeologist also started kicking, you very quickly heard a cracking sound in the wood. Immediately, something slid against your uncovered ankles, tickling you. You jumped at the sensation before you really understood what was happening.

The earth was definitely seeping into your coffin.

You couldn't go back.

To avoid panicking at the idea of being buried alive, you turned off your brain as best you could to focus on the only task Robin had given you: compacting. You tightened your grip on her hand, still in yours, and you kicked the earth that was gradually invading your space.

Yet, there came a time when you could no longer collect anything at your feet so you began to store the residue against the sides of your legs and then, when the earth completely covered your legs, you packed it around your waist with your hands. You thus lost more and more freedom of movement as your limbs were covered.

Your feet.

Then your knees.

And then your hips.

You refused to let go of Robin's hand so even those ended up just as buried.

When the fateful moment arrived when you felt the weight of the earth begin to accumulate on your chest, tears flowed down your cheeks without you being able to hold them back. The heaviness of the residue was not pronounced enough to technically prevent you from breathing but, coupled with the rest of your body being immobile in the middle of this cold, damp earth, you felt difficulty fully inflating your lungs.

“Wrap your t-shirt around your face to avoid getting dirt in your face.” Robin suddenly ordered before doing the same.

Doubtful, you still pulled the fabric out from under the ground before wrapping it around your face. You now saw less than nothing and, above all, you found it even more difficult to breathe. But you had blind faith in her so you kept the t-shirt where it was.

When Robin finally released her hand from yours, a pathetic squeak escaped your lips.

However, you were cut off by the hiss caused by the blossoming of her arms. You then heard the wood above you begin to creak dangerously and then, after a few tremors, the sound of creaking hinges opening echoed in the dead silence.

Suddenly, before you could rejoice at the progress, you felt a whole pile of earth collapsing on your face—covered—because of the opening. You quickly turned your head to shake it off and were grateful that you had listened to your lover. If the t-shirt hadn't been there, you would probably have had dirt in your eyes, mouth and especially your nose.

The rancid smell of damp and mold intensified.

Next to you, Robin moved slowly. You didn't understand what she was doing because it was still dark but you felt her blindly tapping the earth that still covered your hand. You slowly uncovered it and took the archaeologist's wandering hand. As soon as your palms touched, she circled your fingers with hers.

“Sit down.” she declared, her voice muffled by the fabric. "We still have to dig to the surface. Be careful not to go too fast so as not to cause a landslide. It's ok?"

You nodded and immediately tried to get up.

To your greatest surprise, you realized that, indeed, she had been able to open the lid so that you could both sit in the coffin. A glimmer of hope lit up in your heart. So you raised your hands above your head to scrape the walls of earth that rested on your skull.

You continued to scratch and you were finally able to stand up successively in a crouch, freeing your legs from their prison of accumulating earth, then on your knees.

From there, you packed as best you could the earth that you made fall to your knees in order to rise little by little.

After a few minutes of effort, you began to feel that something was wrong—besides being buried alive several meters underground—but you couldn't put your finger on it. You tried to reassure yourself by telling yourself that you were getting closer and closer to the surface, but nothing did to calm you down. Something was wrong.

You were much more careful around you before it tilted.

Robin was digging much slower than before and, above all, she was panting a lot. She was far from the simple shortness of breath from the effort: you heard next to you that she was inhaling small breaths very noisily. Tirelessly. And without taking a full breath. You had never heard her so out of breath since you knew her.

“Robin?” you worried without stopping digging.

But there was no response, she just continued to dig more and more slowly.

“Robin!” you resumed with a slight nudge as well.

And there is still no response from your lover.

It was at this precise moment that you realized that you too were starting to have serious difficulty breathing. You could no longer take deep breaths and, with only half of your lungs full, you already felt the vital need to exhale in order to take another half-breath. Your arms, whose heaviness you thought was due to simple fatigue, were also much weaker than they normally should have been.

Suddenly, you heard Robin's voice which was so weak that you almost didn't hear it.

"Oxygen."

The meaning behind that simple word made your blood run cold in a split second.

Your oxygen supply was in its final moments.

If you didn't get back to the surface quickly, you were going to pass away despite your best efforts. Another flash of your rotting corpse, accompanied by that of the archaeologist, came in front of your eyes and you suddenly felt a surge of energy.

You weren't going to die here, not this close, and even less so with Robin by your side.

Now taking almost no precautions, you shoveled as quickly as possible the earth still present between you and the fresh air. Entire clumps of dirt fell onto the fabric that covered your face, preventing you from breathing, but you didn't care. You shook your head desperately while continuing to scratch like a madperson.

Finally, as one of your hands was pressing against the surface to dig, you felt the earth suddenly give way and your hand pass through.

Until a slight wind licks your free hand.

You then immediately shook your arm that led to the surface and raised your other limb to give a powerful punch against the earth still above you. The vault gave way. The relief was so great when you finally saw the rays of the sun entering your rat hole that you could have cried like a child.

But Robin had stopped digging, and that was worrying you more at the moment than the light and fresh air.

You threw your t-shirt around your head before pulling yourself out of the hole and leaning back in to retrieve Robin. Despite her height and weight, you were so terrified of losing her that you picked her up without any problem and placed her on the grass at the edge of your tunnel.

You immediately took off her makeshift hood.

Behind, her half-open eyes were framed by a face as red as embers while perspiration stained her skin. Her inhalations were brief but, after a few, you noticed that she began to take deeper breaths on her own. Finally, without you needing to revive her, her breathing stabilized with deep breaths.

Relieved, you lifted her head to place your thighs underneath and rest her. One of your hands slipped through her messy hair and, beneath you, you saw her closing her eyes peacefully.

It was over.

°˖✧ Salut ✧˖°

I just wanted to warn that this is the first times that I have written texts with a somewhat horrific style, so I am sorry if you got excited about the title for nothing and were disappointed. I'm also not a consumer of horror material because I'm a big—huge, you can't even imagine how much—sissy, then the stories risk not being very original.

So, if you see points that can be improved, don't hesitate to let me know so that I can get better. Thanks! ~

See you tomorrow!

𝖏𝖔𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 𝖎𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖉𝖔𝖓'𝖙 𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖙 𝖙𝖔 𝖒𝖎𝖘𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖞 𝖚𝖕𝖉𝖆𝖙𝖊

𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: @iheartamora @bontensh0e @opchara @lys-ada @xomingyu @dozcan123

#one piece #one piece x reader #nico robin #nico robin x reader #halloween #halloween 2023

[itty-bitty-sunshine]

Hello. I am back. I am stressed, but under significantly less stress. Immortality on my brain, words are foggy rn. Buckle in.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They hadn't noticed how bad it's gotten. It spread over their flesh now. Immortality comes with a cost of living indefinitely, at losing everything. Yet no one dares to think about how it does not necessarily mean immunity.

It had been a long time for Perkeo. Not even they knew when they first came to be. Time stretched and blended together when you have no use for counting it. Counting was for those who didn't have enough time after all.

But now Perkeo sits at home. Unable to do much else. Their skin had darkened significantly, changing dulling into a slightly greyish colour. The flesh sat heavily on their frame. It had gotten oh so bad. How could they have not realized?

They could feel it writhing under their skin. The sensation shooting shivers up their spine, only with the few nerves that were left undamaged. They groaned as they felt their abdominal muscles and organ walls give way, shifting out of place. It started from the inside out.

They couldn't even muster the strength to call in sick today. Well, they probably wouldn't have this position for much longer anyway. Oh, the boys will be so disappointed. You were really glad to have spent at least this much time with them. Heh, you were worried about finding someone who you wouldn't have to worry about 'having enough time'. The joy un finally discovering them must have distracted you.

You felt it years ago, but now? Now, there is no turning back. As your stomach acid pools in your gut, shredding the rest of your organs. Muscle tear with every slight movement you make. It hurts, so badly. No blade or arrow ever left you feeling like this. No other 'death' had ever left you trembling like this. But you knew death was waiting for you.

Bones snap and cartilage disintegrates, tendons ripping, blood pooling. You struggle to keep your eyes open now. It's all too much. Your vocal chords are torn from the pained whimpering you wanted to scream. Perkeos organs started failing one by one. None leading to their death, unfortunately. Liver, intestines, stomach, lungs, heart. They continued laying, with barely holding onto consciousness. Their brain had not become dysfunctional, yet. Without the incessant beating of their heart, they were left in silence. Their thoughts were a quiet buzz filling their brain. Slow, but still there nonetheless.

They need you.

You should try to get up.

Hhhnngggg owwww.

Maybe you shouldn't even bother, they'll move on!

It hurts so much.

Atleast I got to spend a bit of time with them.

You never got to say goodbye.

Your thoughts dissipate as the rot takes over. Oh? Yeah, the rot. Your body, although resilient, couldn't deal with repairing itself constantly. Especially after extreme deaths. Ones where it would have to pull together your disfigured and scattered remains. So it did a makeshift job. Just for the time being. You ignored it. Eventually, it would take over, decomposing your body from the inside out. You had essentially been a living corpse lately, worrying Sun and Moon to no end. Well, now they wouldn't need to worry, Perkeo thinks to themselves. Their body had been put through so much, this weakend state was only necessary. It would be impossible to remain in perfect condition, despite its distaste for staying dead. It would eat itself apart, until it collapsed and could rebuild from scratch. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Flesh and bone crumbled away, only to reunite, forming a "new body". A refurbished one, one that will have longer till it inevitably collapses. Before it rebuilds itself again. Thought this process takes a tremendous amount of time, as well as trial and error. Struggling to recuperate itself, Perkeos life being a test of viability. They could die hundreds, if not thousands of times before it is completely functional. This could take up to a millenium to fix. Surely, going to be terminated from their current position before the process is complete.

Their brain agonizingly started shutting down, consciousness leaving them for what will never be the last time. Their flesh begins corroding.

If only they could have found their boys sooner.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Basically Perkeos immortality doesn't mean immunity. They will pay the price with not only pain, death, and resurrection. But their body cannot physically take the strain of healing itself. So it found a way to cope. Rotting. Decomposition doesn't mean death, it's a cycle of life. They will make it back... unfortunately the dca may never see them again.

Imagine rotting from the inside out. Feeling your body collapse and corrode around you, as your mind screams for release. Your brain can't take it. But you can never submit to death. Feeling your flesh, thick with festering bacteria, sliding on your bones, feeling trapped in the skin falling off your body. Your insides dissolving into an acidic burning concoction, sloshing around with every slight shift. Your bones, ligaments, tendons, and muscles shredding. Loosing the pretty voice so many of your friends throught the ages held dear :)

(What's bolded is my main idea, the rest is filler. I dont think it was written very well though.)

Hope you like it sunsun, I'm tired and my words don't sound right. I can't express my thoughts, but I hope atleast some of my thoughts came across.

Take a study break honey. Drink something warm, eat something healthy, go to bed, ily.🧡

Wait did I just write gore???

WHAT A HELL OF A STUDY BREAK THAT WAS HOLY FAZBEAR SUKI

I FREAKING LOVE YOUR BRAIN DO YOU KNOW THAT

I HAND YOU SMALL SILLY THINGS AND YOU GRAB AND BREAK AND TWIST THEM INTO A BLOODY AGONIZING PATHETIC MESS AND I LIVE FOR IT

ALSO THAT'S SO GODDAMN SAD WHAT

NOOOOOOO GIVE MY BABY THEIR FRIENDS BACK THEY JUST GOT THEM 💀

I GIVE YOU AN UNBREAKABLE TOY AND YOU FIND EVERY WAY YOU COULD POSSIBLY USE TO BREAK THEM, STARS

God imagine if they came to find you somehow

#FRIENDLY REMINDER TO EVERYONE ELSE THIS IS NOT CANON TO STORYLINE THEY ARE HAPPY #BUT HOLY FAZ #SHAKING YOU SHAKING YOU SHAKING YOU THIS IS THE BESTEST THING IN THE WORLD I COULDVE TAKEN A BREAK TO #I LOVE YOU SO MUCH #I WASNT DOING MY BEST IN EFFORT BUT ON STARS WILL I BE DOING NOW AFTER THAT #I LOVE YOU SO MUCH DO YOU EVEN KNOW HOW MUCH THOSE THINGS MEAN TO ME #YOU ARE THE ABSOLUTE BEST WHERE WOULD I BE WITHOUT YOU #immortal au #immortal au writing #✨️: suki writing #cw gore #tw gore #cw implied death #we should probably start putting content warnings on top of those asks too tbh #most of them have at least implied death and blood and violence of some sort #cw sickness #cw rotting #cw rot

[mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess]

Set free

Warnings: heavy angst and mentions of self harm!!

There is nothing but silence. If one tried hard enough, they might have even be able to hear the candles burn, the otherwise unnoticed crackling of the tiny flames through their wicks and candlewax.

The distant sounds of the snowstorm outside occasionally fill in the suffocating silence, the muffled scream of the wind against creaking windows wailing much like a grieving mother crying for her son.

Lan Xichen lays still, in beautiful, ornate, funerary robes. He looks much like he would if he was asleep - except the steady rise and fall of his chest is absent, and the color in his skin has drained to leave a muted gray behind. His lips, usually turned in gentle, kind, polite smiles, are drawn against one another, his expression calm, if not indifferent. Of course, it has been a long time since the curl of his lips has been sincere - but even that forced ghost of a smile is gone now, never to return again.

Lan Wangji has been kneeling by his side for hours now, keeping the candles alight and the incense burning. He has only left to bring fresh flowers in when they started to wilt.

He hasn't uttered a single word, a single sound ever since he found out his brother died. It's almost as if the shock of it has taken his voice away, his pain soundlessly turned inwards. Not even when he cried did he make any noise.

Xichen used to tell him he should stop bottling up his feelings until they burst. He should allow himself to be more open, more expressive, more vulnerable.

Xichen is gone now and Lan Wangji doesn't know how to follow his advice.

They found him, motionless and cold, in his seclusion house. His body hadn't started to decompose yet, a testament to his high cultivation, so nobody could tell when he died. Or how. All that was certain was that he was gone.

There were no wounds on his body, no marks, nothing but pristine skin. There were no signs of a fight or a break-in either. Lan Qiren played him Inquiry - Lan Wangji couldn't - but there was no response.

Perhaps it's better this way. Sometimes it's better not to know.

There are many hypotheses.

Lan Wangji doesn't want to think of them.

He doesn't want to think of anything. He can't think of anything - just the fact that his brother died alone. Nobody should die alone. Nobody who is loved should die alone.

Xichen did.

He promised Lan Wangji he would end his seclusion come spring. He would return to the Cloud Recesses and take up the responsibility of sect leadership, he would rebuild his life and move on.

But spring has been late this year. It's still snowing outside, even if it shouldn't. The frost has killed the cherry blossoms outside.

It's killed Xichen too.

Lan Wangji hopes, irrationally, that this is all a dream, a nightmare. That his eyes will snap open any moment now and he will be home, and his brother will still be alive. That this is all a cruel illusion his brain has concocted the way it would when Wei Ying was dead.

But this is real. It's real because Lan Wangji can still feel the cut Bichen has left in his hand, an injury he needed to inflict on himself to ground himself into the present and realize the truth of the situation. Nobody knows he has it, he's hidden it in his sleeves, in strategic placements of his hand. He's prevented his core from healing it.

Wei Ying will freak out when he finds out, but it's not like this is the first time Wangji has resorted to self-harm when he was grieving. Xichen used to gently lecture him on that, too.

Xichen has always been a gentle man. Kind, welcoming, at times naive and unassuming, but with a heart so open that it could hold the whole world inside of it. It's this very heart that caused his demise, isn't it? This good, selfless, loving, hopeful heart. This dead heart.

Wangji found letters in his brother's house. They were unaddressed, but he could still tell who each of them was meant to reach. Few of the recipients were still alive - and he was one of them. His brother wrote to him, bared his soul on paper for him but chose to never show it to him in the end.

The elegant calligraphy spoke of pain, of loneliness and deceit, of shattered hopes, of wondering how to accept that the world he's lived in has been nothing but an illusion.

In the end, Xichen never found the answer to those questions. Or perhaps he did.

Only he knows.

But those letters weren't all a journal of sorrow. Xichen wrote to his brother about how much he loved him, how proud he was of him, how happy that he could finally share his life and his love with his soulmate, how well he did teaching the juniors.

Those letters hurt the most.

Wangji found a stack of letters addressed to their mother too. He hasn't been able to read them, and he doubts he ever will. He's handed them over to uncle, and he thinks uncle has read them himself. Wangji doesn't want to know.

There were letters addressed to uncle, too. Wangji hasn't read those either. Neither has he read the letters that were meant for Xichen's sworn brothers.

He hasn't even read the one letter that was addressed to Wei Ying. But Wei Ying has. And whatever Xichen wrote in there, Wangji doesn't think himself able to stomach - and with the way Wei Ying cried reading it, he probably never will.

Nobody knows how Xichen died.

Nobody but his brother.

None of the people that will come cry at his funeral, at his grave, will ever know what really happened. Neither the juniors that looked up to him like both an uncle and a guiding figure, nor the fellow sect leaders that will attend the funeral in respect for Zewu-Jun illustrious character, and not even the rest of their inner family, their elders, or cousins or anyone else.

And Wangji won't tell them either. He won't even tell Wei Ying.

That's his and Xichen's secret to keep.

That's his brother's last wish. Nobody has fulfilled any of his wishes while he was alive, the last thing Wangji can do is fulfill them in his death.

(Wangji knows, because he knows his brother. He knows how to read between the lines, knows where to look to find answers.

If he had been the one to die, Xichen would have known too.

They've always read one another well.)

The door opens, and startles Wangji out of his numbness. Wei Ying and Lan Qiren walk in, followed by three other elders. Wangji knows them well. He almost killed them 13 years ago.

Wangji can't be bothered to acknowledge anyone but his uncle and his husband, though, so he only nods their way once.

Wei Ying looks down, and Lan Qiren stares at nothing in particular, expressionless.

One of the elders finally breaks the silence. "Wangji. I know this is a difficult moment for you. It is for us all. But there are duties-"

Wangji sends the man a tearful, murderous glare. His lips are drawn tight, but it is easy to guess what he would have said if he opened his mouth to speak. It wouldn't be pleasant.

Another elder cuts in, defiant almost. "You must take in your brother's place as sect leader, whether you like it or not."

Wangji's hand clenches hard around Bichen. "My brother has not even been buried. How quick you are to replace him."

"The sect cannot wait around without a leader."

Wei Ying reaches to touch his husband's free hand, covers it with his own.

Lan Wangji's eyes could not be icier. "You've always been like this. Careless. Are you worried your power might diminish?"

"Wangji. Do not be insolent."

"My brother is lying dead in front of you and you've come to speak to me about politics. Tell me who the insolent one is. Tell me why I shouldn't send you out of here myself."

"You-"

Lan Wangji turns his eyes towards where his brother lays and lights up a candle that had gone out. "Let me grieve in peace. I have no interest in anything you have to say."

"If you do not accept your duty-"

"I have no problem defecting from the Lan sect. Now, leave. Or I will make you. I've done before."

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #writing attempts #lwj #lxc #wangxian #lqr

[vexic929]

2, 4, 6, 9 for the song lyric prompts

#4 愛だけが私の生きる意味生きる力すべてなのに、愛だけが私を前へと強く突き動かしてた Love is the only reason I have to live, and love is the only thing that keeps me moving forward (愛だけが) from this prompt list info on Alex and Mihael here and here

cw: vague references to eating disorders and suicidal ideation

No one ever really knows how they'll handle the news of a loss. You can speculate, make educated guesses based on previous reactions and your overall closeness to the person, but until you're in that moment you don't really know. Sometimes, you feel nothing, and then you feel guilty for feeling nothing. Other times, the grief can be so soul-suffocating that it feels like a physical ache in your chest that hurts more the more you think about it.

Mihael had been sitting on the kitchen floor for a full hour now, staring numbly at the ring that had fallen out of the envelope addressed to him. There was no return address, no sign of who had sent it save for the unfamiliar handwriting on the envelope, but it didn't matter. He knew what it meant. Alex hadn't left him - he was dead. Mihael couldn't breathe. He clutched at his chest, struggling to get some air.

He had been so worried about Alex - the months of not hearing from him, the fear that kept gnawing at him like a wild animal as he desperately tried to make sense of the situation, oh god the angry messages he'd left when he'd thought he'd been abandoned. He felt sick to his stomach and he was certain if he'd eaten anything in the past few days he'd have vomited.

Alex was dead.

Mihael felt numb, disconnected from reality, and he wanted to lay down, curl up in a ball, and cry until he, too, was just as gone from this world as Alex. Why the hell did it have to be Alex? Alex had been making something of himself; if either of them was to die young it should have by all accounts been Mihael the way he constantly spiraled into patterns of self-destruction. And why...why hadn't he come home? His ring had made it so someone had to have found his body...where was he now?

The thoughts only made him feel worse. Had Alex died alone? Scared? Was he murdered and dumped unceremoniously somewhere? Had his body been too badly decomposed already by the time he'd been found to bring him home? Did...any authorities know? Why was the ring how he'd found out and not some policeman knocking on his door?

The thoughts spiraled so quickly he felt almost dizzy and his chest tightened until he felt certain it would collapse on itself. He reached for his pack of cigarettes, hands trembling and throat tight as he struggled to keep the tears back. He lit up the first one, and then a second, a third. By the time the sun had set, Mihael was still on the floor and the entire pack of cigarettes was empty.

It hadn't taken the grief away like he'd wanted. It was still there - painful and raw. But Mihael had been too drained for tears; he could only sit, think, and savor the burn from the smoke which seemed to be the only thing he could feel that didn't make him wish he was dead too.

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