emeraldborealis

[emeraldborealis]

Gosh you’re literally a genius, how do you find me worthy to talk to you??

Dropping gold in my messages all the time

Tossing ideas around with the lovely @emeraldborealis and this is what bloomed 🥺 (emerald’s words are italicized)

Soft!Simon Riley x reader thoughts

Do you think when Simon takes off his mask that he has compression creases on his face from the seams in the fabric and hard lines of the skull?

Do you think he’d let you sooth the red lines with your thumb, gently smoothing over his skin? Do you think looking forward to that moment is the only thing that gets him through the hard days, knowing he’s going home to a loving touch, and a soft love?

Do you think he’d rip the skull off before he lets you lay eyes on him? Or do you think he’d let you peel the mask off for him, let you be the one who marks the transition from Ghost to Simon. From a man of war to a man gentleness.

I think it depends on what he needs, if he needs help peeling Ghost away or if he needs to come to you believing he is something gentle.

Could you imagine him walking through the door, a harsh and hard exterior, picking you up or leading you to the couch where he sits down and places you on his lap, just waiting for you to dismantle him, waiting for you to set him free from all the pain. As you gently remove the mask from over his face he starts to cry, tears making streaks through his half worn out eye black, once you have it fully off he just crumbles into you, arms tight around your waist as he nuzzles his face into your chest and shoulder.

Finally, after everything he’s been through in his life finding someone who tells him it’s alright to cry.

#we do indeed love him #he’s just #and I just #I can’t #tab

[emeraldborealis]

After I originally cut my short I went to hang out with some friends, one of the men there grabbed me by my hair and tugged on it, commenting on how he could still pull it. I cut my hair shorter shortly after that.

The reason to cut my hair short was not for style, shock value, or to rile the misogynists.

It was to prevent anyone from grabbing me by the hair.

I have quick hands. I go for the balls first.

The definition of a fair fight is determined by the survivor.

I aim to always emerge from that room that was meant to be my tomb, covered in blood that's not my own.

#what a strange thing to say to a woman #I was just trying to play cards

[emeraldborealis]

♥️ love train! send this to all the blogs you love! don’t forget to spread the love! ♥️

-Tab (love you lots)

I love you to bits Tab, you have no idea <333

#tab

[emeraldborealis]

Wow okay thanks for attacking me

Why do you like mundane, everyday settings in your fics? (Grocery store au, roommates to lovers, etc)

Is it because your real life is cold, and lonely and you’re secretly wishing for some kind of spark to happen without having to actively seek it out, and go outside of your comfort zone?

#nobody look at me #tab

[emeraldborealis]

Omg I would be loved

After all these years, it finally happened

It happened

I had a dream I was a worm

I was a worm in a relationship with a human man

He still loved me even though I was a worm

The question has been answered

#that IS our type of man #tab

[emeraldborealis]

Comfort

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x GN!reader

TW//CW: Hurt/comfort, mention of nightmares, established relationship, soft Simon, no use of y/n.

Words: 1,593

You woke with a start, a clawing tingling sensation building under your skin, a spike in your breathing. Your heart racing like a derby horse, let loose with a jolt of adrenaline. Refusing to slow until falling or passing an imaginary finish line. There would never be an end to this. 

It was dark in the room, fear and panic growing even after the nightmare had ended, the memory of what it was about was quickly fading, the fear was not. 

It had all felt so real, so vivid, the touches and pain still felt like they were there, you could almost feel them searing under your skin. Wanting to burst out, become something real, something that could hurt you more than just in your mind.

"You alright, love?" The soft voice of Simon beside you helped calm your racing heart, taking a deep breath you sighed, realizing you'd woken him up with your nightmare, turning to face him you found him already looking at you, his face hard to make out in the dark, but his eyes were on you.

"I'm alright." Your voice was a little weak when you spoke. Reaching out to him in your nearly blacked out room, his familiar shape was visible to you only by the soft moonglow from a crack in the curtains. He was here, you were alright. You'd be alright. Simon was here. He wasn't going to let anything happen to you.

When your hand connected with the worn fabric of his sleep shirt he pulled you closer, holding you comfortably to him. "Another nightmare?" Gently he cradled your head in his hand, bringing it to rest under his chin, you felt his chest rise and fall as he took a deep breath.

You'll be okay. You'll be alright. 

"Yeah." Closing your eyes you pressed further into him, breathing him in, drinking down his natural scent, it was soothing. Simon was a man you could trust, one who would never hurt you. He was a man who would part oceans of people for you, a man who would scare away the fear constantly bubbling inside of you without complaint. "How'd you know?"

"The shift in your breathin' woke me up." Gently his fingers started massaging into the nape of your neck, keeping you close and comfortable. He was an enigma to you, someone so hurt yet still so gentle. Not with everyone, but with you he was.

"You sleep that light?" You knew he was a light sleeper, but you didn't know it was to that extreme. A pebble of guilt began to build inside of you. He must never sleep when he sleeps with you. 

"Unfortunately." His hand traveled down your neck, trailing up and down your spine, his fingers pressing firm enough to feel the notches of each vertebra as he went. "Want to talk about it?"

"Not really. I don't remember most of it, just the general feeling it gave me. It was a bad one." You moved more into him, you wanted to cry, wanted to scream. You were so sick and tired of these nightmares, never ending, never relenting. There was something fundamentally wrong with you, there must be, for rest to be more tiring than not sleeping at all. 

You hadn't been through what Simon's been through, haven't seen the same brand of hell he has. You didn't have the right to complain to him, not when he's objectively been through worse. You weren't loved right, you saw things, went through things, but those weren't comparable to him. 

"That's alright." He brought you ever closer, letting you move on top of him. If you could fall and sink into him you would in a heartbeat. Settle inside his bones, let them be a protective cage, keep everything else away from you. "So long as you don't want to talk about it because you think my nightmares are worse or some shite like that."

He's chastised you more times than you can count about not wanting to talk to him about your problems, told you just because things could be worse doesn't mean they're not hard.

"No, well, yes yours are probably worse. But I really don't remember this one, still wouldn't want to talk about it if I did. I just like to try and forget them." Laying your head over his heart you let his steady heartbeat stabilize you, gravity taking the few tears from your eyes and making them fall onto the fabric of his shirt. 

Your hand laid on the other side of his chest, fingers rubbing small circles, your pointer and thumb pinching his shirt. You hated this, hated when you'd wake him up with your nightmares, hated having them at all. Simon needed someone better than you, someone who wasn't damaged, someone who wasn't just as scared as he was to go to sleep at night.

"I understand." Simon laid his hand over yours on his chest, holding it gently. "Just because the water could be deeper doesn't mean you can't be drownin' where you are. Trauma isn't a competition, I know you've been made to feel it is your whole life because people want to silence you. But talk to me, I'm 'ere for you, darlin'."

"I know. I'm sorry. It's just hard, I'm trying." Turning your head you rested your chin on him, looking up at his face, his beautiful face. The first time you saw it you couldn't even speak, it was the face of the man you love. There was nothing else you needed to say about it. There was nothing else anyone needed to say about it. If people didn't see it for the beauty you did, then that was their loss. "They just- never stop."

"I know. I know. I understand." The pad of his thumb gently swiped under your eye, a frown coming to his face when he felt it was wet with tears. 

Scooting up his body you wrapped your arms around his neck, resting your forehead against his. "Don't frown, they're just dreams. Hurts for a while, but I'll be alright, you're here. I'm okay. I'm okay." You repeated it just as much for yourself as him. 

"I wish you could sleep peacefully through the night, I wish you didn't have bags under your eyes from exhaustion. I wish I could keep the nightmares at bay. I wish you wouldn't have to understand this pain like I do." His hands moved to rest on your back, rubbing up and down.

"Life is pain, isn't it? Everyday we can go through hell, and we just keep living, just keep going. Isn't that persistence what life is? What makes us human?" Gently you moved your fingers over his face, trailing the bridge of his nose and shape of his eyebrows. "My dreams are not something that are allowed to define me, that hell is not going to be who I am. But I'd be alright if when all was said and done I was known for loving you." 

"Known for lovin' me? It is a 'eavy task." Simon chuckled, kissing your nose.

"That's not what I was saying and you know it." Pushing on his chest you sat up, half straddling him. "And it's not a 'task', loving you comes as naturally as breathing, so don't give me that crock of shit." 

"Alright, I stand corrected." His hand moved to rest comfortably on your hip, softly squeezing it. "I'd like to be known for lovin' you, above all else. I'd like for my time spent with you to be the thing my life is associated with."

"It's a 'heavy task'." You mocked his words, mimicking his voice in an obnoxious manner. 

"Alright enough of that." Sitting up Simon wrapped his arms around you, falling backwards he pulled you back down to lay with him, ignoring your noise of surprise he kept a tight hold on you, preventing you from being able to move. "You're perfect." The playfulness was gone, replaced with a soft tenderness. 

"But I wish I was flawless, I wish I knew what it was like to live a life without this burden. I wish I could just be like everyone else. I don't know what I'm doing wrong, I don't know what's causing these dreams. I just want them to go away." Your voice wavered as a lump formed in your throat, a burning coal. Sniffing you tried to hold back your emotions.

"We'll get you to the point you can sleep through the night without bad dreams soon, I promise. I'll find a way to turn those restless dreams into somethin' peaceful. Soon you'll feel fine, no more eyebags, no more nightmares." It wasn't something he could guarantee, but the conviction in his voice silenced all of the doubts in your mind. 

"You make things better, when I wake up to you I remember I'm alright. I don't know what I'd do without you." Taking a deep breath you relaxed yourself, settling yourself so you can start trying to go back to sleep.

"I'll always be 'ere, love. Get some rest. I'm 'ere." The feeling of him kissing your temple furthered you into calming down. Closing your eyes you nuzzled into him. 

"Let's have something good for breakfast, but you make it, and you clean it up, and I just partake." You mumbled sleepily into him.

"Fuckin' 'ell you're a twerp. We'll see." His comfort was all surrounding, holding you safely, it kept you warm and calm. He was all you needed, all you wanted. Waking up to him would always be the reason for you to fall asleep again. 

[emeraldborealis]

Thank goodness these bats are here, now depression thinks I’m too cool with my army of bats to bother me

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇 ANTI DEPRESSION BAT ATTACK 🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇 🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

#thanks gogh #you know how much I love bats #gogh

[emeraldborealis]

I’m glad you liked it Tab, I’ve been trying to get this one done for a while and it’s been fighting me so hard

Soft Simon is my favorite Simon, he’s just so lovely <333

Comfort

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x GN!reader

TW//CW: Hurt/comfort, mention of nightmares, established relationship, soft Simon, no use of y/n.

Words: 1,593

You woke with a start, a clawing tingling sensation building under your skin, a spike in your breathing. Your heart racing like a derby horse, let loose with a jolt of adrenaline. Refusing to slow until falling or passing an imaginary finish line. There would never be an end to this. 

It was dark in the room, fear and panic growing even after the nightmare had ended, the memory of what it was about was quickly fading, the fear was not. 

It had all felt so real, so vivid, the touches and pain still felt like they were there, you could almost feel them searing under your skin. Wanting to burst out, become something real, something that could hurt you more than just in your mind.

"You alright, love?" The soft voice of Simon beside you helped calm your racing heart, taking a deep breath you sighed, realizing you'd woken him up with your nightmare, turning to face him you found him already looking at you, his face hard to make out in the dark, but his eyes were on you.

"I'm alright." Your voice was a little weak when you spoke. Reaching out to him in your nearly blacked out room, his familiar shape was visible to you only by the soft moonglow from a crack in the curtains. He was here, you were alright. You'd be alright. Simon was here. He wasn't going to let anything happen to you.

When your hand connected with the worn fabric of his sleep shirt he pulled you closer, holding you comfortably to him. "Another nightmare?" Gently he cradled your head in his hand, bringing it to rest under his chin, you felt his chest rise and fall as he took a deep breath.

You'll be okay. You'll be alright. 

"Yeah." Closing your eyes you pressed further into him, breathing him in, drinking down his natural scent, it was soothing. Simon was a man you could trust, one who would never hurt you. He was a man who would part oceans of people for you, a man who would scare away the fear constantly bubbling inside of you without complaint. "How'd you know?"

"The shift in your breathin' woke me up." Gently his fingers started massaging into the nape of your neck, keeping you close and comfortable. He was an enigma to you, someone so hurt yet still so gentle. Not with everyone, but with you he was.

"You sleep that light?" You knew he was a light sleeper, but you didn't know it was to that extreme. A pebble of guilt began to build inside of you. He must never sleep when he sleeps with you. 

"Unfortunately." His hand traveled down your neck, trailing up and down your spine, his fingers pressing firm enough to feel the notches of each vertebra as he went. "Want to talk about it?"

"Not really. I don't remember most of it, just the general feeling it gave me. It was a bad one." You moved more into him, you wanted to cry, wanted to scream. You were so sick and tired of these nightmares, never ending, never relenting. There was something fundamentally wrong with you, there must be, for rest to be more tiring than not sleeping at all. 

You hadn't been through what Simon's been through, haven't seen the same brand of hell he has. You didn't have the right to complain to him, not when he's objectively been through worse. You weren't loved right, you saw things, went through things, but those weren't comparable to him. 

"That's alright." He brought you ever closer, letting you move on top of him. If you could fall and sink into him you would in a heartbeat. Settle inside his bones, let them be a protective cage, keep everything else away from you. "So long as you don't want to talk about it because you think my nightmares are worse or some shite like that."

He's chastised you more times than you can count about not wanting to talk to him about your problems, told you just because things could be worse doesn't mean they're not hard.

"No, well, yes yours are probably worse. But I really don't remember this one, still wouldn't want to talk about it if I did. I just like to try and forget them." Laying your head over his heart you let his steady heartbeat stabilize you, gravity taking the few tears from your eyes and making them fall onto the fabric of his shirt. 

Your hand laid on the other side of his chest, fingers rubbing small circles, your pointer and thumb pinching his shirt. You hated this, hated when you'd wake him up with your nightmares, hated having them at all. Simon needed someone better than you, someone who wasn't damaged, someone who wasn't just as scared as he was to go to sleep at night.

"I understand." Simon laid his hand over yours on his chest, holding it gently. "Just because the water could be deeper doesn't mean you can't be drownin' where you are. Trauma isn't a competition, I know you've been made to feel it is your whole life because people want to silence you. But talk to me, I'm 'ere for you, darlin'."

"I know. I'm sorry. It's just hard, I'm trying." Turning your head you rested your chin on him, looking up at his face, his beautiful face. The first time you saw it you couldn't even speak, it was the face of the man you love. There was nothing else you needed to say about it. There was nothing else anyone needed to say about it. If people didn't see it for the beauty you did, then that was their loss. "They just- never stop."

"I know. I know. I understand." The pad of his thumb gently swiped under your eye, a frown coming to his face when he felt it was wet with tears. 

Scooting up his body you wrapped your arms around his neck, resting your forehead against his. "Don't frown, they're just dreams. Hurts for a while, but I'll be alright, you're here. I'm okay. I'm okay." You repeated it just as much for yourself as him. 

"I wish you could sleep peacefully through the night, I wish you didn't have bags under your eyes from exhaustion. I wish I could keep the nightmares at bay. I wish you wouldn't have to understand this pain like I do." His hands moved to rest on your back, rubbing up and down.

"Life is pain, isn't it? Everyday we can go through hell, and we just keep living, just keep going. Isn't that persistence what life is? What makes us human?" Gently you moved your fingers over his face, trailing the bridge of his nose and shape of his eyebrows. "My dreams are not something that are allowed to define me, that hell is not going to be who I am. But I'd be alright if when all was said and done I was known for loving you." 

"Known for lovin' me? It is a 'eavy task." Simon chuckled, kissing your nose.

"That's not what I was saying and you know it." Pushing on his chest you sat up, half straddling him. "And it's not a 'task', loving you comes as naturally as breathing, so don't give me that crock of shit." 

"Alright, I stand corrected." His hand moved to rest comfortably on your hip, softly squeezing it. "I'd like to be known for lovin' you, above all else. I'd like for my time spent with you to be the thing my life is associated with."

"It's a 'heavy task'." You mocked his words, mimicking his voice in an obnoxious manner. 

"Alright enough of that." Sitting up Simon wrapped his arms around you, falling backwards he pulled you back down to lay with him, ignoring your noise of surprise he kept a tight hold on you, preventing you from being able to move. "You're perfect." The playfulness was gone, replaced with a soft tenderness. 

"But I wish I was flawless, I wish I knew what it was like to live a life without this burden. I wish I could just be like everyone else. I don't know what I'm doing wrong, I don't know what's causing these dreams. I just want them to go away." Your voice wavered as a lump formed in your throat, a burning coal. Sniffing you tried to hold back your emotions.

"We'll get you to the point you can sleep through the night without bad dreams soon, I promise. I'll find a way to turn those restless dreams into somethin' peaceful. Soon you'll feel fine, no more eyebags, no more nightmares." It wasn't something he could guarantee, but the conviction in his voice silenced all of the doubts in your mind. 

"You make things better, when I wake up to you I remember I'm alright. I don't know what I'd do without you." Taking a deep breath you relaxed yourself, settling yourself so you can start trying to go back to sleep.

"I'll always be 'ere, love. Get some rest. I'm 'ere." The feeling of him kissing your temple furthered you into calming down. Closing your eyes you nuzzled into him. 

"Let's have something good for breakfast, but you make it, and you clean it up, and I just partake." You mumbled sleepily into him.

"Fuckin' 'ell you're a twerp. We'll see." His comfort was all surrounding, holding you safely, it kept you warm and calm. He was all you needed, all you wanted. Waking up to him would always be the reason for you to fall asleep again. 

#comment reblog #tab

[emeraldborealis]

Comfort

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x GN!reader

TW//CW: Hurt/comfort, mention of nightmares, established relationship, soft Simon, no use of y/n.

Words: 1,593

You woke with a start, a clawing tingling sensation building under your skin, a spike in your breathing. Your heart racing like a derby horse, let loose with a jolt of adrenaline. Refusing to slow until falling or passing an imaginary finish line. There would never be an end to this. 

It was dark in the room, fear and panic growing even after the nightmare had ended, the memory of what it was about was quickly fading, the fear was not. 

It had all felt so real, so vivid, the touches and pain still felt like they were there, you could almost feel them searing under your skin. Wanting to burst out, become something real, something that could hurt you more than just in your mind.

"You alright, love?" The soft voice of Simon beside you helped calm your racing heart, taking a deep breath you sighed, realizing you'd woken him up with your nightmare, turning to face him you found him already looking at you, his face hard to make out in the dark, but his eyes were on you.

"I'm alright." Your voice was a little weak when you spoke. Reaching out to him in your nearly blacked out room, his familiar shape was visible to you only by the soft moonglow from a crack in the curtains. He was here, you were alright. You'd be alright. Simon was here. He wasn't going to let anything happen to you.

When your hand connected with the worn fabric of his sleep shirt he pulled you closer, holding you comfortably to him. "Another nightmare?" Gently he cradled your head in his hand, bringing it to rest under his chin, you felt his chest rise and fall as he took a deep breath.

You'll be okay. You'll be alright. 

"Yeah." Closing your eyes you pressed further into him, breathing him in, drinking down his natural scent, it was soothing. Simon was a man you could trust, one who would never hurt you. He was a man who would part oceans of people for you, a man who would scare away the fear constantly bubbling inside of you without complaint. "How'd you know?"

"The shift in your breathin' woke me up." Gently his fingers started massaging into the nape of your neck, keeping you close and comfortable. He was an enigma to you, someone so hurt yet still so gentle. Not with everyone, but with you he was.

"You sleep that light?" You knew he was a light sleeper, but you didn't know it was to that extreme. A pebble of guilt began to build inside of you. He must never sleep when he sleeps with you. 

"Unfortunately." His hand traveled down your neck, trailing up and down your spine, his fingers pressing firm enough to feel the notches of each vertebra as he went. "Want to talk about it?"

"Not really. I don't remember most of it, just the general feeling it gave me. It was a bad one." You moved more into him, you wanted to cry, wanted to scream. You were so sick and tired of these nightmares, never ending, never relenting. There was something fundamentally wrong with you, there must be, for rest to be more tiring than not sleeping at all. 

You hadn't been through what Simon's been through, haven't seen the same brand of hell he has. You didn't have the right to complain to him, not when he's objectively been through worse. You weren't loved right, you saw things, went through things, but those weren't comparable to him. 

"That's alright." He brought you ever closer, letting you move on top of him. If you could fall and sink into him you would in a heartbeat. Settle inside his bones, let them be a protective cage, keep everything else away from you. "So long as you don't want to talk about it because you think my nightmares are worse or some shite like that."

He's chastised you more times than you can count about not wanting to talk to him about your problems, told you just because things could be worse doesn't mean they're not hard.

"No, well, yes yours are probably worse. But I really don't remember this one, still wouldn't want to talk about it if I did. I just like to try and forget them." Laying your head over his heart you let his steady heartbeat stabilize you, gravity taking the few tears from your eyes and making them fall onto the fabric of his shirt. 

Your hand laid on the other side of his chest, fingers rubbing small circles, your pointer and thumb pinching his shirt. You hated this, hated when you'd wake him up with your nightmares, hated having them at all. Simon needed someone better than you, someone who wasn't damaged, someone who wasn't just as scared as he was to go to sleep at night.

"I understand." Simon laid his hand over yours on his chest, holding it gently. "Just because the water could be deeper doesn't mean you can't be drownin' where you are. Trauma isn't a competition, I know you've been made to feel it is your whole life because people want to silence you. But talk to me, I'm 'ere for you, darlin'."

"I know. I'm sorry. It's just hard, I'm trying." Turning your head you rested your chin on him, looking up at his face, his beautiful face. The first time you saw it you couldn't even speak, it was the face of the man you love. There was nothing else you needed to say about it. There was nothing else anyone needed to say about it. If people didn't see it for the beauty you did, then that was their loss. "They just- never stop."

"I know. I know. I understand." The pad of his thumb gently swiped under your eye, a frown coming to his face when he felt it was wet with tears. 

Scooting up his body you wrapped your arms around his neck, resting your forehead against his. "Don't frown, they're just dreams. Hurts for a while, but I'll be alright, you're here. I'm okay. I'm okay." You repeated it just as much for yourself as him. 

"I wish you could sleep peacefully through the night, I wish you didn't have bags under your eyes from exhaustion. I wish I could keep the nightmares at bay. I wish you wouldn't have to understand this pain like I do." His hands moved to rest on your back, rubbing up and down.

"Life is pain, isn't it? Everyday we can go through hell, and we just keep living, just keep going. Isn't that persistence what life is? What makes us human?" Gently you moved your fingers over his face, trailing the bridge of his nose and shape of his eyebrows. "My dreams are not something that are allowed to define me, that hell is not going to be who I am. But I'd be alright if when all was said and done I was known for loving you." 

"Known for lovin' me? It is a 'eavy task." Simon chuckled, kissing your nose.

"That's not what I was saying and you know it." Pushing on his chest you sat up, half straddling him. "And it's not a 'task', loving you comes as naturally as breathing, so don't give me that crock of shit." 

"Alright, I stand corrected." His hand moved to rest comfortably on your hip, softly squeezing it. "I'd like to be known for lovin' you, above all else. I'd like for my time spent with you to be the thing my life is associated with."

"It's a 'heavy task'." You mocked his words, mimicking his voice in an obnoxious manner. 

"Alright enough of that." Sitting up Simon wrapped his arms around you, falling backwards he pulled you back down to lay with him, ignoring your noise of surprise he kept a tight hold on you, preventing you from being able to move. "You're perfect." The playfulness was gone, replaced with a soft tenderness. 

"But I wish I was flawless, I wish I knew what it was like to live a life without this burden. I wish I could just be like everyone else. I don't know what I'm doing wrong, I don't know what's causing these dreams. I just want them to go away." Your voice wavered as a lump formed in your throat, a burning coal. Sniffing you tried to hold back your emotions.

"We'll get you to the point you can sleep through the night without bad dreams soon, I promise. I'll find a way to turn those restless dreams into somethin' peaceful. Soon you'll feel fine, no more eyebags, no more nightmares." It wasn't something he could guarantee, but the conviction in his voice silenced all of the doubts in your mind. 

"You make things better, when I wake up to you I remember I'm alright. I don't know what I'd do without you." Taking a deep breath you relaxed yourself, settling yourself so you can start trying to go back to sleep.

"I'll always be 'ere, love. Get some rest. I'm 'ere." The feeling of him kissing your temple furthered you into calming down. Closing your eyes you nuzzled into him. 

"Let's have something good for breakfast, but you make it, and you clean it up, and I just partake." You mumbled sleepily into him.

"Fuckin' 'ell you're a twerp. We'll see." His comfort was all surrounding, holding you safely, it kept you warm and calm. He was all you needed, all you wanted. Waking up to him would always be the reason for you to fall asleep again. 

#x reader #oneshot #reader insert #gender neutral reader #cod fandom #cod #angst #cod fanfic #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader #call of duty x reader #simon riley call of duty #ghost call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #ghost cod #simon ghost fluff #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x gender neutral reader

[emeraldborealis]

Did you know that the reason your life flashes before your eyes when you die is because your brain is trying to find something you’ve experienced to help you in this situation? The brain has never experienced dying though so it just searches through all of your memories for something that won’t save it.

Which when put with this is kind of cute in a way, your brain thought normalcy and domestic life could potentially save you as everything is actively shutting down in your body

I love when stories show a characters last words/thoughts and it’s something so completely random

Like they’re lying there, bleeding out as their lover tries to apply pressure, begging them to just stay awake, just hang on, please. An equally desperate response of, “I think the milk is expired.”

Or they’ve been hiding for hours, and their bones ache from standing still for so long, but their captor is approaching and they know they can’t get away, not this time. But I never rescheduled at the dentist…

Idk I just love when a character is so terrified that they detach from their current reality, trying to cling to any scrap of normalcy they can find.

#tab

[emeraldborealis]

rb to knead your mutual with your paws

#get kneaded #because you’re needed

[emeraldborealis]

I’m glad! <333

Bite The Hand

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x GN!reader

TW//CW: Angst, dog motif, kind of some fluff, no use of y/n. RE6 era Leon.

Words: 2,155

Part one

It was a month before that familiar knock came to your door, you had almost started to think he wouldn't come back. Not that he hadn't been gone this long before, but things just felt different when he left, the air in your house had shifted, like all of his things were leaking toxic gas into the air, poisoning you with a desperation for him to come back. 

You had to drag yourself from your bed to the front door, you had been waiting for him, but a fear of seeing him again was now building in your bones. You didn't know how things were going to go.

"Hey." His voice seemed softer than last time, he wasn't asking to come in with flattery and sweet words like he typically did. He was just here. Acting as if there was far more keeping you apart than the threshold of the doorway. Maybe there was.

"Come in." You opened the door wider for him, he stepped inside like a dog with its tail between its legs.

"I brought you juice, your favorite kind." The sweetness in his voice didn't reach the rest of him. He couldn't look you in the eyes, he didn't slip off his shoes, or take off his jacket, he was just carefully holding out the juice for you to take. If he left again now he wouldn't come back.

Carefully you took the juice from him, setting it down, it was the expensive organic kind, the kind you never got growing up. "Thank you." You helped him with his jacket, slipping it off of him and hanging it up, an invitation to stay, which he seemed hesitant to accept. 

He still wouldn't look at you, by now he'd typically be all over you, on your heel or begging for something. But he wasn't. He was shifting his weight back and forth on his feet, as if avoiding the situation he put himself in. 

The silence was tense, like he was battling with himself. "Did you miss me?" He tried to be coy, trying to be playful, a wolfish grin on his face, but his eyes couldn't even land on your figure, not even your silhouette. Like you were something blinding to him, something so radiant he couldn't even lay eyes on you.

You didn't know how to approach this, he seemed so nervous, anxious to even be around you. "Always." You chose honesty, all you wanted was for him to stay, to choose to be with you, have a domestic life. But he wasn't that kind of person, not with his work. "You know I worry for you, right?"

Each time you'd say something it was like he couldn't hear you, visibly tensing at just the sound of your voice. Leon's eyes finally met yours, but they still held some distance. His hands clenched at his sides, as if he was restraining himself. Like they were physically tied.

His eye's seemed to be all clouds today, lacking that warmth they typically held, even on bad days. His eyebrows were tight knit, he was biting his cheek, making him look like he had a pout. He had built himself a barrier between him and you, he wouldn't touch you.

"You look nice." His voice was soft, strained. He seemed unusually tense in your presence, like he was backed into a corner. But he wasn't, he was in control here, you'd let him do anything he needed to. He just didn't understand that. 

His sweet words and actions didn't match his demeanor, his behavior. 

You took a small step closer to him, he was putting on an act for you. Trying to be an 'ideal' version, but he was failing miserably. "I don't. Stop pretending." How could you even explain you would take him as he is? How could you tell him he didn't need to be a perfect creature, that he didn't have to distill out the best parts of himself to give to you. He was fine as he'd come to you.

As you moved closer Leon leaned in, moving towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist, pawing at you a little. He had a more genuine need to be around you in him now. "But you do." He spoke it like a promise, an oath or testament to his belief that you looked nice. 

You tested the limits of his touch, gently grabbing ahold of his face in your hands, wanting him to melt into your touch like he sometimes did, or waiting for him to pull away.

He stayed, letting you hold him, looking into your eyes. You'd been warned not to look a dog in it's eyes, its like a challenge of dominance, but maybe your stray would let you have him today. 

He was stiff for a moment, before conceding. He seemed conflicted, but gave you a soft smile, it didn't fully meet his eyes, if anything it was sad.

Leaning more into you he brought his lips to your forehead, testing your waters. When you didn't pull away he moved to kiss your lips. It was soft and gentle, featherlight, like he was afraid he'd hurt you, or accidentally devour you whole. You couldn't help but lean into him, deepening the kiss, searching for more, searching for a love just out of reach. Pulling him into you as if you were gravity itself. 

He pulled away, leaning his forehead against yours. You were suddenly afraid you'd gone too far, asked for too much from your skittish stray. "I can't love you how you want me to."  

"What are you so afraid of? What do you think would happen if you just let yourself be loved?" You couldn't stop your voice from cracking, the lump in your throat cutting you off from being able to say more. 

"Who do you think you are? Who do you think I am? What do you wanna say? What do you think will change?" He pulled away from you, barking his questions at you, his face showing irritation and sudden disdain. "You know how I am."

"What is so wrong with me that I'm enough to be used, but not enough to stay for?" You finally got the words out, balling your hands into fists at your sides, trying to hold back your tears by digging crescents into your palms with your nails.

"Maybe I'm..." He paused, trying to find his words. His face softening towards you, understanding your insecurity and why you'd believe yourself to be the problem. You were always like that. Like him. "I'm afraid of you."

He was scared you'd leave him, abandon him to wander the streets, looking for something else to devour, something other than your love. That you'd see him for what he really was, a stray, an unwanted dog, chained so tightly to a leash he'd killed all the grass under his anxious feet, trying to get just another inch to move, another inch of freedom.

Some men are just dogs.

But you already knew he was a stray. You knew he could be ravenous, be driven to bite the hand that feeds him.  

"I'll hurt you over and over again, I can't be changed. Not anymore. You don't get it, just being around you puts you in danger. There's people who, if they knew I cared about you, they would try to use you against me, anything to keep me following their orders." He wanted you to understand, to understand he wasn't a violent dog. He was trying to keep you safe. Safe from him.

"Leon, I don't actually give two shits about any of that. I don't care. I just want you in my life, to make sure you're taken care of." You didn't dare move closer to him, he already felt cornered. 

"I care! I don't want you getting hurt." He yelled at you, his hair getting in his eyes, making him look angrier than he was. "I can't love you how you want me to. I wouldn't if I could." His voice went cold.

You stopped at his words, really pausing to think about them. Letting them tear into you, sink deep into your skin. "Why?"

"I don't deserve you. I never have. I wasn't made to be able to hold something as nice as you." He looked away from you, no more bite in his voice.

"Who told you that?" You stepped closer to him, challenging every bit of trust you two held for the other.

"Life did. I'll tear you apart if you let me, you can't let me. I'm not someone who gets good meals, a warm home, or enough love to fill myself full, to be satiated. I was made for scraps. I don't want to devour your love, but I'm too starved to receive it without becoming ravenous for more, I'll consume you whole if I'm not careful." He let you come closer, not snapping or snarling at you.

You couldn't stop yourself from grabbing him, pulling him into you and hugging him. "I don't care if you do, you deserve all the love I could ever be able to give you. You should never have to search for scraps. You never should have been left outside on a leash too short for you. Leon, you're not the beast you think you are. You weren't made to destroy, everyone was made to be loved by someone."

Leon was stiff in your arms for a long time. Before he slowly wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly, breaking down in tears. Burying his face in the crook of your neck, whimpering softly as he cried. 

"You're not mean by nature Leon, you're actually very sweet, hell, you're awkward. And it's adorable, and funny. Stop believing yourself to be bad, see yourself how you let me see you sometimes. I love you Leon, and you don't have to love me, but please just let me love you. Let me be someone who can be here for you, support you, and let me feed you." You pet his hair as he nuzzled his face into you, sniffling softly.

"I don't know how." He admitted. "Not anymore. I wish you knew me before all the hell, when I was young and all too eager to lap up any love I could, dying to love others and receive their approval."

"Is that not what you do with me every time you come to my door?" You kept holding him, letting him pull away if he needed, but he stayed. He chose to stay.

"I was different when I was young." He held you tighter, lifting you and carrying you to your couch, laying you down before crawling over you, sandwiching himself between you and the back of the couch, laying his head on your stomach.

"So was I. Who wasn't?" You asked softly, slowly feeling him relax. "You can come and go as you need, I'm not trying to suffocate you, and I'm not trying to change you or pull you away from things. I just want to love you."

"I want to love you too." He rested his chin on your stomach so he could look up at you, he looked more like the Leon you saw underneath everything now. His eyes that more familiar blue that you loved so dearly. His eyes that showed him, all of him. Everything he's been through. 

He could still leave tomorrow, and you'd still let him go, because you knew he'd come back. He always would. "I'm glad we talked, we don't do a lot of that. Maybe we should talk more." 

"I'm sorry I hurt you, I'll work on not doing that." He promised you. "I want to be the one who keeps the pain away from you, not causing it. I want to keep you safe, and see you smile. I have to leave sometimes to do that. But I'll come back. You know how I am."

"I know how you are." You pet his head, playing with his hair, brushing it out of his face to see him better, repeatedly running your hand through his thick blonde hair, scratching his scalp softly. "I changed the sheets in the spare room you use sometimes, you're welcome to stay if you want to."

"You're sure you want me around?" He was more relaxed with you than he'd been in a long time. 

"Of course I am." You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. Wishing he'd stay, stay for you. Stay with you. "I'd do anything to keep you around for as long as I can."

"Then I'll stay." He agreed. He'd stayed the night so many times, taking the couch, or the spare room. Sometimes even daring to follow you to your bed. But this was the first time he said he'd stay. "For a glass of juice and some more of your cooking." He added playfully.

You rolled your eyes at him, ruffling his hair. "Fine, a glass of juice and a warm meal just for you."

#comment reblog

[emeraldborealis]

Here I was excited because I thought it might be something big or profound but apparently I was doing dialogue blocking and just didn’t elaborate with anything else, so I present to you all my latest wip, it’s very detailed and informative about who it’s for and what’s going on

“I understand.”

Tadah!

Tags: @itsgoghtime @xxterra-incognitaxx

Last Line Tag Game

Tagged by: @gemmahale

RULES: Post the last sentence you wrote (fanfic / original / anything) and tag as many people as there are words in the sentence.

Gaz could feel his limbs trembling from both the cold sheets of pouring rain and the strain of keeping perfectly still.

Tagging: @snootlestheangel, @losersimonriley, @catterdraws, @deeptrashwitch, and anyone else. My brain is foggy and I can’t think of people. But if I’ve talked to you in the last couple of weeks and you’ve not already been bombarded with a tag. Come join!

#tag game

[emeraldborealis]

Thanks for the tag Gogh! This was a lot of fun!

It’s honestly kind of rude to make me choose just one character but I think Leon would benefit greatly from this life, and yes my plant/flower is a moon garden, I will take no critiques on this I need to care for the moths

“You are terrifying, and strange, and beautiful. Something not everyone knows how to love." - Warsan Shire

No pressure tags: @xxterra-incognitaxx @lightning-hawke @waiting-so-long @xxshadowbabexx @1-ker0sene-1

|| cottage moodboard aesthetic ||

Place your dream cottage/cabin/castle/home, view, pet, activity, food, outfit, flowers/plants, and the character you'd love to share this life with. Just literally make the (fairycore/cottagecore/etc) life of your dreams!!!

thank you to @desert-fern and @startrekfangirl2233 for the tags! i am also behind but i did it!

so i actually wasn't sure which character to do but it came down to the vibes and mr rhett abbott really came for me with this one. granted, it could have fit mr jake seresin (maybe even mr tyler owens). but i wanted to give rhett some love. and i don't appreciate this inspiring a fic 😂 not quite cottage core, more like pasture or forest core but i love it

"i'll give you the world," he said against my mouth. "the moon. the fucking stars. anything you ask, it's yours.""i want you.""i'm yours."

==========

tagging the lovely:

@sebsxphia @teacupsandtopgun @mamachasesmayhem @hangmansgbaby @lovinglyeternal @sailor-aviator @bradleybeachbabe @mongoosesthings @callsignthirsty @valmare @itsgoghtime @roosterforme @horseshoegirl

#tag game #it’s so pretty #I didn’t think it’d come together like this

[emeraldborealis]

Thanks for the tag Gogh!

Right now I have Mechanical Bull by Stella Donnelly stuck in my head

Tags: @waiting-so-long @xxshadowbabexx @xxterra-incognitaxx @1-ker0sene-1 and anyone else who sees this and has a song stuck in their head :)

ATTENTION

If you see this you are OBLIGATED to reblog w/ the song currently stuck in your head :)

[emeraldborealis]

You’re just such a good writer and you write such impactful stories it’s no wonder you’re one of my favorites, and I love how you write Leon. Your characterization of him is one that I feel is very accurate and it’s very clear how much you care about the source material and his canon personality

More yearning is always good, in no situation has more yearning ever been bad

I can’t wait to be taken on this journey through a new story!

A Sinking Feeling [Chapter One – In War, Victory]

Summary: The D.S.O. took everything away from you, even the faintest hope for a future. Now you are sent into a small town alongside Leon to take down a vicious crime family all while pretending to be married - and swallowing feelings you really shouldn't be having about your co-worker turned friend.

Word count: 2128

Additional tags: canon-typical violence and threats, some sexism (not from Leon or the reader), fake marriage, start of a slow burn, pining

Author's note: This has been in the works for months already... I didn't think I was going to do another multi-chapter fic after Fair but here I am!

I've always had a thing for the mafia AU for Leon so I'm going for it... with a twist. Because it's me and I can't do anything without tons of pining and horror!

☣ read on ao3 ☣ | series masterlist

Thunder shook the small house, rain pelting the windows relentlessly, sending shivers down the woman’s spine as she sat down at her desk. Every time it thundered set her on edge, her hand wrapped tightly around whatever weapon she had close by, ready for whatever may be lurking within the darkness the clouds and thunder left. Something was always lurking nearby, she wouldn't be caught off-guard again.

She stared at the dimly lit screen of her laptop, two faces staring back at her. One, nothing but a pretty trophy wife, immediately written off before she fully read the name below. The other, the name Liam Castellanos catching her immediate attention.

He was the one brought to her attention, his impending arrival a gift from whatever god that still watched over her.

She stared at the photo of him on the page outlining his usefulness, blonde hair partly covering his face, bright blue eyes staring forwards, almost right through her. Lean but not weak looking. The rest of the page held little information, most blacked out besides a few things. Aged thirty-six, grew up in the business before the rest of his life being blacked out, extensive training, the rest, nothing useful to her.

Too pretty looking for a guard dog, she thought, though everything in his file said otherwise, at least what wasn’t blacked out. If she was to bring someone new in, he was what she wanted. His wife might be useful too, possibly revealing information that had been blacked out, but her thoughts remained on Liam. Making use of wives was better suited to her own, who preferred the late evenings spent with a wine glass in hand and gossiping. She was not cut out for such trivialities.

That marriage had been nothing but a thorn in her side for years. Her wife was far too soft for the life she led, much to her disappointment. But, she’d always helped the family in other ways.

Looking at the screen for a few moments longer, Liam’s bright blue eyes staring back, she closed the file, her left hand absentmindedly rubbing her stomach – a habit she’d grown accustomed to, despite the empty feeling that bubbled up when nothing kicked back at her hand.

She’d learned all she needed about him for now, now she had to wait for him to move in. By next week, everything would be set in motion, her new guard joining the others, her new children joining the family. Soon it would all be in place, the puzzle finally clicking together and her life would finally be whole once more.

Footsteps thumped outside, nearing the door. The door hinges creaked as a tall man in a dark blue suit walked into the room, briefcase in hand, the other still resting on the doorknob. Closing it behind him, thunder rattled the walls once more.

“Do you have what I ordered?” she asked, eyes flicking up towards the intruder as she closed the laptop, placing on the desk in front of her. He towered over her, at least over a foot taller, despite the heels she wore.

“Not yet,” he stepped up to the desk in the middle of the room, placing the briefcase on it and opening it up, the contents obscured from her view. “My client was delayed. Getting into the country is harder than ever… especially with her children.”

She stood up, lunging at the man, the tip of her knife ghosting over the man’s throat, the smallest drop of blood welling up under it. Blue hair falling into her face, dark eyes flashing in anger as the blade met flesh. “I do not like waiting,” she growled, each word punctuated by the slightest increase of pressure on his throat. “If I don’t have my order by tomorrow night, you can say goodbye to ever seeing your family again. Understood?”

“Yes ma’am,” he croaked, Adam’s apple bobbing under the pressure of the knife as he swallowed nervously. Blood dripped down his skin, staining the pristine white shirt below. “I’ll make sure your package is here tomorrow.”

“Good.” As quick as the knife was on him, she pulled it away and brushed her hair out of her face. Slipping the knife back into the hidden sheath resting against her hip, she turned to walk out of the room. “Do not disappoint me again,” she looked behind her once more before leaving the man alone in the small room, thunder shaking the walls as the door slammed shut behind her.

***

Your orders were simple; destroy the festering wound within the small woodland town, to cut out the monsters within, human or not.

It seemed easy enough. This wasn’t the first mission you’d ever done, it wasn’t supposed to even involve much fighting. Talking, gathering information and waiting for back up. A single assassination if you were unlucky. You’ve done this a few times, while it wasn’t as easy as boring paperwork, it wasn’t something that was insanely difficult. Not when you had your closest friend backing you up.

Except, nothing was ever as easy as it seemed in your life.

The whole mission hinged on yours and Leon's skills in faking a marriage, blending in with monsters far worse than any infected creature could be and trying to take it down inside out.

It wasn't what you or him did; diving head first into a fight, working off one another while trying to end the horrors lurking within the shadows, that's what you did. Not dress up as a glorified trophy wife or wear heels that were certainly going to end with you breaking your ankles lest you didn't cling to his arm the whole night while pretending to be as much a monster as the people around you were.

You knew one another well, could be each other's closest friend if you dared put a name to it, but nothing romantic had ever bloomed between you too. It never would, no matter how much you wished.

Friends was all you were, and it was enough. Of course you wished for more, but it was enough. Love had always been a far off dream, something that never was meant to happen. Life was too hard within the D.S.O. to think of the future, not when you didn't even know what would happen in the next week, day, hour. Something as distant as the future no longer existed to you, only the here and now.

It just wasn't in the cards. Friendship was more than enough, as long as you knew he was breathing was enough. Anything else was just extra, welcomed certainly, but extra nonetheless.

You looked down at the uncomfortable heels you were stuck with, fingers brushing over the laces running up the tops ending just under your knees. A small switchblade rested against your inner calf, hidden away but only further adding to the discomfort.

"You okay?" Leon asked, breaking you out of your thoughts and looking over at you as he fiddled with the button-up shirt he'd been forced to wear. He wouldn't admit it, yet the discomfort was as clear as day. Maybe even more so than the heels you were stuck with.

"Yeah," you lied, unable to meet his eyes. He’d see right through you if you looked him in the eye.

"Liar," he countered, almost immediately.

"What do you want me to say?" you sighed, looking away and eyes darting to the cool metal across your ring finger. The outwardly plain silver band weighing heavy on your mind. "Everything about this mission seems like a fucking trap. All that's missing is the squid head."

He snickered at the joke, lips curving upwards in a crooked smile. One only you seemed able to draw out of him lately. "It's always a trap," he added, a teasing lilt to his voice despite the very realness of his words.

It was always a trap.

You knew this, he knew this. The anxiety felt before the start was normal, something you both expected and knew well. This however, this sinking feeling you were walking into the jaws of a dragon was too much to bear.

"You know what I mean," you groaned.

"I know," he replied, immediately more somber and... afraid. It sent you further on edge, if he couldn’t hide it, it was bad. "I feel it too."

"Don't know why we have to do this," you mused. Finally looking up and meeting his eyes, you see the fear written across his eyes, the sudden protective urge to call off the mission overwhelming. Neither one of you were prepared for this kind of mission, nor were you able to hide anything from the other anymore.

"Luck. I guess."

He didn't elaborate, the all too real threat lingering in his and your minds. This was never a discussion. You get an order, you do it. It didn't matter whether your skill set matched up. You always had to follow orders... Or else.

What his or else was, you weren't certain. As open as he was with you, that was the one thing he never opened up about. There are things better left unknown, whether you wished it or not. He wouldn't oblige and you had no choice but to accept.

Especially when you hadn't deemed to share what your or else was either.

You remained quiet, looking away as you both fixed your outfits, readying yourselves for the long walk into the dragon's mouth.

Outwardly extravagant, hiding away the hidden teeth. A dagger strapped to your thigh, a small holster hidden away under the long sleeves under his suit coat and one hidden at your side, a switchblade hidden within a pocket or boot. He was lucky, everyone expected the employed to be armed, so long as it was hidden from view. You weren't. You had to be creative, to find ways to hide something. Going to this unarmed, even if it was only a knife, was out of the question.

It wasn't enough, no amount of weapons could ever be enough, but at least you weren't without claws.

Yet, the lack of protection was the least of your worries, at least while you sat down to pull the laces tight on the pair of heels you were to wear. The glint of the warming silver band on your ring finger held the most anxiety.

Not only were you outwardly branded as his, by your new family, it matched the aching crack in your heart that'd only threatened to break open further as the matching brands were placed upon yours and his fingers.

Leon didn't know, not once had you let the small sliver of a secret slip. The one thing you'd never tell him.

It wasn't ever to be uttered aloud, some things left better hidden in the dark. Though, the heavy weight of the silver ring, the forged documents of his commitment to you in the one way he never would, wore heavy on your heart, threatening to drown you before ever leaving the safety of the hotel.

His eyes flitted to you, watching as you finished tying the knots. You knew he watched you, he always did. Always the loyal, protective guard dog, standing watch over you.

Agents joked that you held his leash, that he was your overgrown dog, both insulting and joking, only to be met with your teeth when they dared go too far. If it weren't for him pulling you back, bloody knuckles would've been more commonplace then they were already.

Maybe you did hold his leash. But he did the same with yours.

“Ready to go to our new home, husband?” you asked, standing up on unsteady feet as you get used to the added height. Leon offered his hand, letting you shift your weight onto him without complaint.

“No,” he answered almost immediately, hand wrapped tightly around yours. “But I don’t think anyone's going to listen to me.”

You laughed, bitter, happy, you’re not quite sure. Maybe both. “I’ll listen to you any time,” you offered.

“So you can make fun of me?” he shot back, giving you a crooked grin.

“Well… yeah. How else can I figure out what to annoy you with next?”

“Shut up and walk already… wife,” he sighed, pretend annoyance making him pull away, threatening to let you loose your balance without his arms held out to catch you.

“Not even married a month and you’re mean,” you pretended to sniffle, fake tears welling up in your eyes as you walked with him, earning an exasperated groan from him.

“You picked me, sweetheart.”

You laughed and took his hand properly, walking out of the hotel room together.

Time to go to your new home.

#lightning-hawk #Melissa

[emeraldborealis]

I’m glad this was something you needed, love, it was definitely something I felt I needed to write

Living Unperceived

Pairing: Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x GN!reader

TW//CW: Angst, suicidal ideation, thought of death, brief mention of potential self harm, hurt/comfort, no use of y/n.

Words: 2,880

It was easy to feel like you didn't exist, it was easy living unperceived. Being out of sight out of mind. Being nothing but a ghost to those around you. More of a memory than someone to talk to, someone to reach out to.

It wasn't a life you originally chose, you'd tried to make an effort, tried to connect to others, but as you watched yourself slip away, flatlining friendship after friendship, it got harder and harder to try to prove that you were even still here. Becoming nothing more than a decoration in the corner of every room.

You grew fond of your home like mold grows fond of old bread. There was something rotting inside of you, festering, a silent buzzing in the back of your mind, an inkling, a desire. One you'd needed to shove down more times than you could count anymore.

You were ghosting along, a vanishing act no one would witness, standing over a trapdoor without a bottom, no safety net to catch you. Only an endless spiral waited for you. Waiting for your body to fall into a box, your soul moving along without the burden of your flesh, still falling further.

Hobbies were turning into chores, things you once enjoyed were becoming dreadful. You felt as though you'd already said all you needed to, done all you needed to. Rest was achievable, but at a cost too high. An amount of effort that would feel regrettable.

The feeling of monachopsis was turning you into nothing more than a shell of your old life. An emptiness inside of you made you feel a divide inside yourself. Like the splitting of the body from the soul. 

If a body is a home you'd like to sell yours, rent it out to someone else, take up permanent residence somewhere else, somewhere lacking the constant pain, the flaws, the memories of all that's gone wrong. Away from every lie you've ever told.

Maybe you did have people who care, people who worried about you and wanted you around, enjoyed your presence, but not even they could fight past your self isolating, self destructive habits. Your sense of rejection was nothing more than a hair trigger, springing off and closing yourself up at even a change of tone. 

Your curtains stayed closed, you only went outside when you needed to, once you got home you wouldn't do anything, you'd just lay yourself down and continue to decay. Waiting for the world to stop turning. Waiting for everything to catch up to you.

There was so much time to be left with your thoughts, maybe it was the changing of the season that made you long for it again, a name on a slab with pretty flowers placed lovingly beside it. Would anyone bring flowers for you?

Flowers on a grave are a beautiful thing, flowers mean someone still cares, still remembers a name, still mourns for a friend. Did anyone still remember you were here? Maybe if you were dead someone would finally care. 

You could only imagine the things people would say.

Maybe someone would finally show up, if not, there is something poetic that could be said about a funeral with no attendants. A casket in an empty room. Lowered down into the ground not by their loved ones, as a last goodbye, but by people just trying to remove another decomposing corpse from the sight of others. Would the funeral workers find it sad?

Someone said a roommate would help, someone being there, consistency, a person to talk to and someone to serve. You just sucked at picking them, Kyle was a wonderful roommate, a dream even. But he was gone more than he was around. You hadn't even seen him in a few months. He was more of someone to worry about than someone who helped silence the buzzing in your brain. 

The more you thought of him while he was gone the more death and dying crossed your mind, yours, his, everyone's. The thought of losing him made you want to lose yourself.

He didn't know of course, and you never planned on telling him, he'd make you find help if he knew the things you thought about. Help wasn't always helpful. More times than not it's done more harm than good in your life. It was easier not to talk anymore. Kept the consequences and accountability at bay.

Maybe one day Kyle would be able to come home to an empty house, a house lacking the black spot you tended to cause. A home lacking someone being consumed by an erosive thought pattern. Surely that would cheer up his life, make things easier for him.

You didn't feel you were a person who could interact with others anymore, there was a divide between you and the rest of the human population that had grown too wide. You tried still, but it typically just ended in regret. Furthering your spiral down. 

The more you tried the more you realized your incompatibility with connecting to others. You were out of date, buffering, you needed a recall. How do some people still live even when they lack a purpose? An objective or dream they're trying to achieve. 

It wasn't so bad being alone, you had yourself in the morning, in the evening, you didn't need others, nor did you rely upon them. Especially when you were cursed with the knowledge that all your faults and flaws are no one's fault but yours. You were just something you needed to deal with yourself. 

Maybe you should deal with yourself.

You were losing track of days, of what time it was, whether it was day or night. Life seemed like a blur that was passing you by, leaving you behind. You kept missing work, your bank account taking a hit from it. You were bleeding out financially, the cost of living far outweighing the worth of your life.

There's a way to organize and declutter, only keeping the things that bring you joy, you were no longer sure what to do with yourself now that you no longer felt that joy and zest for life. You didn't know how to file and organize your issues. 

Things seemed easier when you were younger, not that they actually were, but your brain wasn't developed enough to understand that. If you were to try this all again you hoped you'd be granted a cushier life, or the mercy of being brain dead.

"Oh, there you are. I was starting to wonder if you were home." Kyle came into your view, looking down at you. "Why are you laying on the floor?" He looked around the living room, trying to see if there was something wrong with the couches. 

"I didn't hear you come in. You just get home?" Sitting up you looked around, the house was a bit of a mess, you should have cleaned. You felt bad for Kyle, having to live with you. 

You often wondered if you haunted his thoughts when he wasn't home, just like you haunted his home. You definitely thought about him a lot when he was gone, but all things you thought of him were either pleasant or tragic. He probably just saw you as a nuisance. 

You couldn't imagine why he would ever want you living with him. 

"A few minutes ago. You alright? You have bags under your eyes, worse than normal." He crouched down, inspecting you further. "When did you last sleep?"

"I'm fine. I slept earlier, took a nap." When his hand came to reach for you, trying to get you to look at him you gently swat it away. "I said I'm alright." 

"Okay. You sick?" Kyle stood back up, offering you his hand to help you up too. 

"I'm alright, works been tiring. What time is it?" Taking his hand you let him pull you up, the light spilling through the curtains cast the room in a soft yellow, likely golden hour. Kyle always looked really ethereal at golden hour. He was so pretty, body and mind, his soul was kind, a strong sense of right and wrong.

You imagined that even with the nice lighting you probably looked like a corpse, something that just looking at raised warning signs in the mind, a programmed distaste to prevent the spread of disease. You were sure that even subconsciously Kyle's mind was warning him of your decomposition.

"It's not too late, around seven I think. You sure you're doing alright?" Taking a seat on the couch he pat the spot beside him, waiting for you to sit down too.

"Do I really look that bad?" Before you sat down you moved to open the curtains, the setting sun hitting your eyes for the first time that day, it was bright, almost too bright for you, but Kyle deserved to have light in his life. You cracked the window open, letting some fresh air in. 

When you turned around Kyle was staring at you, a soft look in his eyes as he took in your backlit silhouette, he looked at you like you weren't something damned, he looked at you like an artist looks at their muse. It was unsettling to be looked at that way. Like you held more value than you did.

"You look fine, I'm just worried about you is all." He watched carefully as you came back to him, standing there awkwardly for a moment before he gently grabbed your wrist, pulling you to sit down.

"Don't be, there's nothing to worry about." When you sat down he leaned back, getting comfortable on the couch. You were tense, swimming in guilt, you didn't deserve his concern. 

You shouldn't be causing him worry. He had enough stress in his life.

"If you say so. You know I care about you, right?" He nudged your leg with his knee, draping his arm across the back of the couch. "I'd hate it if something happened that I could have helped prevent."

"Of course I know you care about me, nothing bad is going to happen. There's no reason to raise alarm." The lie slipped from you effortlessly, practiced and rehearsed. A programmed response always at the ready, always delivered with the right cadence to be believed. 

"Has your pain been flaring up? Is that why you were on the floor?" He seemed genuinely worried, you thought of all the times he'd suffered through cold showers because you took all the hot water, just trying to soothe the constant pain. He said he likes cold showers. No one actually likes cold showers.

"Kyle?" You lean against the back of the couch, your head resting against his arm. He hummed in response, letting you know he was listening and waiting for you to continue. "How often do you think about death?"

"I try not to think about it too much, but with my line of work it crosses my mind sometimes, mostly when I'm in bad situations, or when I worry about my team. Sometimes I think about the people I've shot and the people I couldn't save." He was honest in his answer, but it just made you feel more alienated. He thought about it in a normal context, he wasn't like you. "How often do you think about death?"

You were silent, looking away from him in shame. "All the time." You confessed. "I think I'm losing my head, I can't stop picturing what it'd be like to be dead. I think it'd be easier. I think I'd make a better ghost than a person. I think I am a ghost of a person." 

Kyle sat there silently, processing your words, he'd known for a while now that you were struggling, he just didn't know how badly you were struggling. "How long has it been like this?"

"I've thought about death my whole life, it's always been a morbid fascination, something that's always been an inevitable possibility. I came to terms with my death a really long time ago. I thought I was going to die as a kid, I planned my death as a teenager, but I'm still here. And I don't really know what to do anymore." You still couldn't look at him, your body starting to tremble.

"Are you a danger to yourself?" He gently took your hand, holding it between his, his thumb gently massaging your palm. His tone wasn't of disappointment or disinterest. He wasn't just waiting for you to stop talking, he wasn't seeing if he needed to send you somewhere to be fixed. He wasn't going to lecture you. He just cared about you, that was all.

"No, well, I don't know." Your shoulders slacked, looking up to the ceiling you took deep breaths, trying to still yourself, trying to take control over your emotions.

"What do you mean by that?" He squeezed your hand softly, trying to get you to look at him. 

"The other day, I was cutting a bagel with a knife, I didn't want to grab a cutting board so I was cutting it in my hand. I told myself I'd be careful, but I cut my thumb. And I don't know if it was on purpose or if it was an accident." Turning to him you had tears in your eyes, a wetness that made them look like perfect stained glass, the light from the window illuminating them.

Kyle had always loved your eyes, he's always thought they looked like glass, almost like hand painted doll eyes, crafted and made with so much care. Made by the touch of a master's hand.

 You were always like a breath of fresh air to him, so different from everyone he served with, even with your flaws, to him your entire being was handcrafted, there was no other way you could be so beautiful.

"Do you want to die? Or do you just think about it a lot?" Kyle gently cupped your cheek, wiping away your tears with the pad of his thumb. 

"I don't know anymore." You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes. "It sounds easier than living. But I wouldn't do it, I really wouldn't. Just sounds appeasing sometimes. It sounds peaceful and tranquil, to have your body laid down, pushing daisies, elm trees growing overhead, their roots surrounding, adopting your casket into their fold. I feel more like a ghost out of their grave than an actual person sometimes."

Leaning in, Kyle placed a soft kiss to your forehead, staying there as he spoke. "I don't want to have to carry your casket to a grave, I don't want to lay you down. We all die someday, don't rush too quickly towards the end. Pace yourself, take in the view. Life isn't about dying, it's about experiencing something beautiful. You're beautiful to me." 

"How do you do it, Kyle? How do you live?" You leaned further into him, gently grabbing his wrists, he was still holding your face, cradling it like it was the most precious thing in the world. Like you  were the most valuable thing, more valuable than rubies or diamonds. 

"It's not so hard, you just take one day at a time, sometimes those days are filled with lots of things, and sometimes they're filled with nothing. Life is what you make of it, and I hate that saying, but it has some truth to it. If thinking about death is comforting to you, that's okay. But don't let it consume you." There was a softness and understanding in Kyle's eyes that you'd never been looked at with before. By anyone.

"Thinking about death is only comforting when it's me. I don't want to lose you, I don't want you to die. Don't die on me, please." Wrapping your arms around him you hugged him tightly, taking in a deep breath of his scent.

"Not planning on it, love. Just promise I won't come home and not find you here anymore. I enjoy coming home to you, I enjoy you living here, I love our movie nights, and when we do facemasks, when you have me lay my head on your lap so you can pluck my eyebrows. I don't know what I'd do without you. Everything I love about life I love because of you. Everything makes me think of you." Wrapping his arms around you he held you just as tight.

"I don't know what to do when things get bad. I don't know how to not let it rot inside of me. I don't know how to talk to people, let them know I need help." You were never good at reaching out, always willing to listen but never speaking. 

"Then don't, if you're struggling you don't need to tell anyone, you don't need to tell me. Just come sit with me, come lay down with me, I'll try and make it rot less. We can do whatever you want, or we don't have to do anything at all." Kyle pulled away from the hug, grabbing your face again. "I love you, okay?"

"You do?" It didn't make sense to you, how could a heart like his ever love a heart like yours?

"More than anything." His lips were soft and gentle as they connected to yours, holding them there in a tender kiss. "You're not a ghost, you're not as invisible as you think, I see you. And I love you." 

"I love you too."

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