saintsroww
" i'm sure we're taller in another dimension. "-16 years old-
15 posts
Latest Posts by saintsroww
The most frustrating experience as a writer is having a clear vision in your mind of the story you want to tell but being too afraid to put pen to paper for fear of failing to do the story justice. I’m so scared that my actual execution will fail to meet my expectations that I’m paralysed to even start.
i keep saying this, but these positive comments make me squeal and enjoy writing. thank you!! ❤️❤️
no cinderella.
summary. singing songs for powder to fall asleep to has become a regular thing for you, and violet seems to appreciate that. cw. young!violet x youngfem!reader, wlw, sugar sweet fluff. wc. 840 cr. young vi gif from arcanegifs on tumblr. notes. this is so cute, i had fun writing this. (⭒ ์ ⲳ ์ ) a bit ashamed that it's awfully short, but i feel it's better this way? ┐(‘～`;)┌ disc. killing me softly
The otherwise dim room that provided an illusion of safety was lit by a single lantern that was left on a wooden table, with dust particles surrounding the warm, orange light emitting from within, behind the lines of metal. The right side of the room has two patchy couches of poor condition accompanied by a barrel with a record player placed on top and that wooden table, the left side of the room was Powder's little corner, a twin sized bed with wooden frames, the same patchy design of the couches were relayed for her blanket.
The couches were deserted except for a single seat sofa, where Violet's slouched body sat, left hand's fingers threaded through the strands of her pink hair, right leg bouncing persistently being left overlooked by her, heel of her shoe tapping against the wooden floor. Her demeanor told a glaringly similar story when compared to what's transpiring behind her skull, steel blue eyes staring off at the orange light in front of her.
You were settled down onto Powder's bed, sitting upright at the edge of it with Powder laid curled up behind you, her small, cold hand a sharp contrast to your palm's warmth and the circular motion of your thumb upon the top of her hand that she found comfort in, she'd open and close her mouth if she were to explain as to why that is– but in the depths of her essence, she knows it's because it brings familiarity to her of someone she held dear.
Her cheek was smushed onto the blanket, knees held close to her chest. She returned your gaze with a growing smile, eyelids weighed heavy, and she blinked languidly. “Y/n, can you sing that song again?” Voice kindred to a breeze, words expressed openly with a concoction of expectation and knowings. “Which one, Powder? I've sung many.” She lightly groaned in response. “Um..” Her eyes sealed shut, and a quiet moment passed you by.
Soft humming arose from below you, Powder trying to impart the song to you through recollecting the past. “Ah, alright.” You nod your head, clearing your throat, right ankle moving to cross over the other, legs stretched. She stops, waiting patiently with her eyes closed.
“Strumming my pain with his fingers.” You sing in a whisper, tune unbroken, and with confidence you used to not have regarding your vocals, somewhat deep and smooth like satin. “Singing my life with his words. Killing me softly with his song, killing me softly, with his song. Telling my whole life, with his words, killing me softly, with his song..” Your feet tapped, curating the beat from how you remembered it, and it was without a doubt accurate.
“I felt all flushed with fever, embarrassed by the crowd, I felt he found my letters, and read each one out loud.” Voice rising slightly at the right time, lashes fluttering shut when you feel that strong wave of passion in you, behind your eyelids, a place for vivid imagination, a single white light from above shining down on you and the stage you stood upon– “He sang as if he knew me, in all my dark despair, and then he looked right through me.” Eyebrows pinching together, channeling those emotions as if it were truly yours. “As if I wasn't there.” – a crowd that harmonized with you, saying the words you imagined that you crafted and put your sweat and tears into with equal fervor, echoing in your skull. A dream out of reach, fingertips aching, itching to touch that blinding white brilliance in an abyss of black.
That tapping your ears were used to hearing had stopped, you're surprised you even noticed in the first place.
And when you opened your eyes, Violet was gazing back at you, the right corner of her lip was curled upwards, head held up by her closed hand, elbow digging into the armrest of the sofa. Your words went airy for a moment before regaining its stable balance when your ears caught onto her humming. Present, unforgivably supportive, the one who shone the brightest in your front row seats.
Smiling back at her only makes her face reflect yours. It grows on her. This night was a small breath of fresh air that you'll never let leave your memory bank, rustic lid sealed tight.
You both finish the song together, Violet mostly humming but tapping in to sing a few words with you every now and then until it has finally come to an end. Violet's eyes drift from yours to check on Powder, you did as well. The little girl was soundly asleep, her hold on your hand had waned long ago, and faint snoring filled the renewed silence.
“Your voice is beautiful.” Violet commented, unhidden sincerity in the way she said it. The same hand she had her head lean onto shifted to scratch the nape of her neck, her other hand lying stagnant on her thigh, upper body leaning back in her seat.
“Thank you, Vi.”
no cinderella.
summary. singing songs for powder to fall asleep to has become a regular thing for you, and violet seems to appreciate that. cw. young!violet x youngfem!reader, wlw, sugar sweet fluff. wc. 840 cr. young vi gif from arcanegifs on tumblr. notes. this is so cute, i had fun writing this. (⭒ ์ ⲳ ์ ) a bit ashamed that it's awfully short, but i feel it's better this way? ┐(‘～`;)┌ disc. killing me softly
The otherwise dim room that provided an illusion of safety was lit by a single lantern that was left on a wooden table, with dust particles surrounding the warm, orange light emitting from within, behind the lines of metal. The right side of the room has two patchy couches of poor condition accompanied by a barrel with a record player placed on top and that wooden table, the left side of the room was Powder's little corner, a twin sized bed with wooden frames, the same patchy design of the couches were relayed for her blanket.
The couches were deserted except for a single seat sofa, where Violet's slouched body sat, left hand's fingers threaded through the strands of her pink hair, right leg bouncing persistently being left overlooked by her, heel of her shoe tapping against the wooden floor. Her demeanor told a glaringly similar story when compared to what's transpiring behind her skull, steel blue eyes staring off at the orange light in front of her.
You were settled down onto Powder's bed, sitting upright at the edge of it with Powder laid curled up behind you, her small, cold hand a sharp contrast to your palm's warmth and the circular motion of your thumb upon the top of her hand that she found comfort in, she'd open and close her mouth if she were to explain as to why that is– but in the depths of her essence, she knows it's because it brings familiarity to her of someone she held dear.
Her cheek was smushed onto the blanket, knees held close to her chest. She returned your gaze with a growing smile, eyelids weighed heavy, and she blinked languidly. “Y/n, can you sing that song again?” Voice kindred to a breeze, words expressed openly with a concoction of expectation and knowings. “Which one, Powder? I've sung many.” She lightly groaned in response. “Um..” Her eyes sealed shut, and a quiet moment passed you by.
Soft humming arose from below you, Powder trying to impart the song to you through recollecting the past. “Ah, alright.” You nod your head, clearing your throat, right ankle moving to cross over the other, legs stretched. She stops, waiting patiently with her eyes closed.
“Strumming my pain with his fingers.” You sing in a whisper, tune unbroken, and with confidence you used to not have regarding your vocals, somewhat deep and smooth like satin. “Singing my life with his words. Killing me softly with his song, killing me softly, with his song. Telling my whole life, with his words, killing me softly, with his song..” Your feet tapped, curating the beat from how you remembered it, and it was without a doubt accurate.
“I felt all flushed with fever, embarrassed by the crowd, I felt he found my letters, and read each one out loud.” Voice rising slightly at the right time, lashes fluttering shut when you feel that strong wave of passion in you, behind your eyelids, a place for vivid imagination, a single white light from above shining down on you and the stage you stood upon– “He sang as if he knew me, in all my dark despair, and then he looked right through me.” Eyebrows pinching together, channeling those emotions as if it were truly yours. “As if I wasn't there.” – a crowd that harmonized with you, saying the words you imagined that you crafted and put your sweat and tears into with equal fervor, echoing in your skull. A dream out of reach, fingertips aching, itching to touch that blinding white brilliance in an abyss of black.
That tapping your ears were used to hearing had stopped, you're surprised you even noticed in the first place.
And when you opened your eyes, Violet was gazing back at you, the right corner of her lip was curled upwards, head held up by her closed hand, elbow digging into the armrest of the sofa. Your words went airy for a moment before regaining its stable balance when your ears caught onto her humming. Present, unforgivably supportive, the one who shone the brightest in your front row seats.
Smiling back at her only makes her face reflect yours. It grows on her. This night was a small breath of fresh air that you'll never let leave your memory bank, rustic lid sealed tight.
You both finish the song together, Violet mostly humming but tapping in to sing a few words with you every now and then until it has finally come to an end. Violet's eyes drift from yours to check on Powder, you did as well. The little girl was soundly asleep, her hold on your hand had waned long ago, and faint snoring filled the renewed silence.
“Your voice is beautiful.” Violet commented, unhidden sincerity in the way she said it. The same hand she had her head lean onto shifted to scratch the nape of her neck, her other hand lying stagnant on her thigh, upper body leaning back in her seat.
“Thank you, Vi.”
OMGG YOU'RE BACKKK
WHOOP WHOOP!! 💗💗😭 i learned my lesson in not uploading AT NIGHT lmaoo
WELCOME BACKKK SWEET THING
OMGGG I LOVE YOU 💙😭my heart DROPPED when i read this bro you make writing so much worth it. it means the world, thank you so much for coming back!!!💖
when doves cry, do you hear them love?
summary. first fragment of your youth. cw. fluff? no, we only know angst over here, blood, guns, character death. you're thirteen here. wc. 1,992 cr. color code from elliesproperty on tumblr. notes. Sorry this took so long, my pc is still tweaking and crashing so often i got so pissed, i started tearing up bro. Anyway, at first this chapter was gonna have three flashbacks in this, which all three were going to be long asl I can just tell, but I thought separating them would be best, didn't wanna make you guys wait too long for this lol. I had a lot of fun writing about the reader in this chapter. I’m just going with the flow with this series tbh, I'm very new to this, this being my first ever series lol we’ll see how it goes. Ty to my sweet anons for the motivation, and I hope future chapters live up to your guys' expectations!! 01 / 02 / AO3
YEAR 2033. Dust built up through the passage of time had caked in the crevices of the wall's base moldings. Lavender-colored wallpaper torn, tattered, and riddled with bullets. Turning your gaze forward, four mangled infected corpses, toppled over each other, lay at the end of the hallway, filling the stale air of the abandoned apartment building with its offensive foul odor. Nature slithered and had made its way through the massive crater in the ceiling above the bodies, swallowing up most of the walls. The floorboard creaked and whined underneath their body weight, shoes leaving water trails in their stead. Overlapped sounds of wet, urgent footsteps, deep guttural groans, and the fast beating of your heart drumming against your eardrums only contributed to increasing your adrenaline. “Hold him–hold him for me.” An exhausted voice shifts your focus to your older sister, who's aiding in holding up the muscular man. Sticky sweat trickles down your throat and forehead, and thickened dirt is underneath your nails.
You nod your head, his weight pressing a bit harder down onto your smaller body, when she slowly removes herself from him. You pointed out your strength in keeping him upright when she moved away. Her head tilts slightly to be at your level briefly, and her eyebags are more prominent. “I have to see if this room is safe for us.” She muttered. Turning her back to face you, she unsheathes her pistol from the leather holster strapped to her thigh, holding it firmly in her dominant hand. She steps up to the door and opens it enough for it to be ajar. Her aim, guided by the wooden door, eyes examining every inch revealed to her the more she opened the door past the threshold.
She quickly glances back at you and your uncle, giving herself only a second before she finally pushes the door wide, her shoes falling and shifting with purpose around the apartment's brown wooden floor. The small kitchen on the right had a few cabinets and drawers open, seemingly void of any valuables. The living room beside it had a dark grey knit blanket settled below the wooden coffee table, peeking out from underneath, and the wooden bookcase on the left side of the door had books of different genres and interesting topics. You watched as she faded further into the apartment, your eyebrows knit together, vaguely tilting your head on the left occasionally to take in the environment being thoroughly investigated by your sister.
A choked curse rumbling close to your right ear and the firm hold on your left shoulder tightening made you blink to look up at your uncle, his body in a state worse than yours. A puddle of blood that’d spread was soaked up by the gauze wrapped around his lower left abdomen, and shared sweat invaded your nostrils. “Uncle..” You whisper to him, anxiety etched into every fiber of your being. Witnessing your only father figure suffering tore your heart apart. “‘S alright, sweetheart.” His voice and demeanor, which you’ve known to be assertive and fearless, dimmed dramatically to being strained and fatigued. The hold you had on his waist grew tighter after he said that, left hand rising to tenderly plant itself on top of his rough hand that grasped your shoulder.
Shoes stepping on wooden flooring rose in volume, and the pleasing sight of your sister reappearing at the front door. “Everything’s good. Come on, I got you.” Softly-spoken, but the underlying stress upon her profoundly resonated between the three of you like an echo chamber as you all stumbled and groaned, leading him to the end of the hallway in the apartment, past the small kitchen and living room, into the disorganized bedroom. Its wide window displayed the afternoon view of the ransacked, vacant city riddled with rustic vehicles and grass overtaking the streets that were once a quarantine zone orchestrated by the military. It was sealed shut, and droplets of rain collided against the glass.
You both carefully lay your uncle down onto the messy mattress, your sister tilting her upper body a little, slim hands roughened from the difficult trials of the life they live now move to softly wipe the sweat trickling down his cheek, alongside the stray strand of hair out of its regular place. “I’m sorry, Uncle– I..” She lowers her head, staring at her shoes before sealing her eyes shut, and the bottom of her lip quivers. There was desperation in staggering her emotions at this detrimental time, fighting to stay strong for both of you.
Your stare faltered as you watched your sister struggle, vision blurring as the hot sensation of tears ran down your cheeks. “This was never your fault..” She didn’t say anything, only nodding her head in response before reluctantly stepping away, her gaze skipping from him to stare off at the window. “I need to get going.” She walks out of the bedroom with haste, leaving the door wide open. Fear sharp as the tip of a needle courses through you. “Going where?” You blurted out, your body moving without question to follow her out of the bedroom door to stop her in the living room. “That Pharmacy we came across,” She sniffles harshly, shaking her head. “I need to see if there could be anything there that can help Uncle.”
Your mouth opened and closed, unfiltered doubt had overtaken your expression.
She falters. “I don’t know if I have the strength to do what I think I need to do.” She hiccups, moving in to wrap you into a firm hug, a strong wave of sweat invades their senses. “Leaving him here feels wrong– leaving you alone too– I don’t know anymore, I..” Words come tumbling out of her mouth, you return the hug tenfold, desperate to give her reassurance that she can rely on you too, she doesn’t need to hold all of the extreme weight of responsibility on her shoulders on her lonesome. After a moment, you pull away a little. “...I can do it. I’ll wait for you.” Staring up to meet her eyes.
A beat.
“...Okay. I’ll be back as soon as I can, maybe I'll find some food as well, alright?” She pulls you back into that tight hug, chin resting on the top of your head. After seconds of silence, she steps away to walk out the front door, and the click and slam of the door shutting echoes in your skull. You went to reassure your uncle about where your older sister went, even when he vaguely nodded, you could tell he also disagreed and was just as worried. After all that, you searched the kitchen, finding only a box of crackers in the bottom cabinet. That had pretty much nothing inside except for seven crackers wrapped in white plastic, hunger coursed through you as soon as your eyes even landed on it, snatching it before walking over to the bookcase next to the front door. Thick dust covered the shelves and books. Genres: Horror, Comedy, Romance, Animals… Animals? Hell yeah!
The corners of your lips quirked as you picked out the book from the bookshelf, particles bursting in front of your face when the books next to it slid down a little, quickly stepping away with a grimace on your face, you moved to plop down onto the couch. With your left hand, you open the book. On the first page, imagery of horses of different breeds intrigued you, and black text described their origins. Moving past that, the next page was of owls. Chowing down on the stale crackers you put on top of your thighs, leaving five crackers left on purpose. Minutes passing you by. Sleep came slamming down on you, like taking a dose of Xylazine, strong, undefeatable to even a horse. You didn’t mean to fall asleep, but your body needed and begged for rest.
Shuffling and loud, abrupt cluttering snapped your slumber.
Your slouched position quickly shot up, neck cranking to look behind you, staring at the hallway with wide eyes. The sounds in the bedroom paused, its door still wide open. Your hands moved silently to remove the book and crackers off of your thighs and onto the wooden coffee table, standing up to your full height, your mouth was left ajar, eyeing the shadow moving on the floor at the end of the hallway, tension in your bones rising when your fingertips inch to your pistol in your back pocket. Praying.
You whisper, hoping that you can prove yourself wrong, so that it'll dispel the dread that's gradually emerging. “Uncle?” Irregular thudding arose once again, a boot unsteadily stepping onto the shadow, moaning in pain, gasping noises were the first sounds you heard from him. “No, no, no, no.” Shaking your head, you can feel your body reacting– that overwhelming emotion of sorrow that your sister briefly described, that’d make your bottom lip quiver and vision blur, opposed to your wishes.
Blinking them away, upholding the pistol the way he taught you, the sight of what was once your Uncle was replaced with a man who lost his humanity—a shell of his former self. His body movement was lethargic and so erratic that it made you shudder.
And when his glazed-over irises landed on you, he lurched into a feral run, startling you into action. “No, please!” Boots stomping on wooden flooring was blaringly loud to your eardrums, your poor heart racing miles per hour.
BANG.
Stomach.
He’s still coming.
BANG.
Chest.
He’s trying to crawl over the couch.
BANG!
Head.
His body toppled over when the bullet penetrated his skull, body falling forward– you couldn’t move fast enough, his corpse landing on you, gravity and his heavyweight were too much, your back slammed down onto the wooden coffee table with immense force, breaking it in half, crushing the crackers, and the thick book you were reading dug into your upper back, but none of it compared to your mental distress. His blood leaked from the bullet hole in his forehead, dripping down onto your face. Your hands frantically pushing his shoulders upwards, but pitifully failing in getting him off of you. Breathing came in quick bursts, coughing, and sobs were all that accompanied you in the apartment’s silence; you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything, acid welling up in your throat. You feel disgusting.
Dragging yourself from underneath his body as an alternative, wood chips pressed into the palms of your hands, moving to sit up while doing so, sliding back until your back hit the TV stand. You brought your knees up to your chest. “I’m sorry, Uncle! I’m sorry!” Squeals and sobs shredded your vocal cords, the back of your hands carelessly rubbed at your eyes over and over again, the waterfalls of tears were endless, chest hiccuping, ears ringing, ribcage closing in on your heart like a vignette effect, and the deep ache spread across your upper back.
The more you cried to yourself, the more you began to feel isolated. Not knowing if your sister is still alive, or if she went and abandoned you instead. Just the thought of being deserted by her made you bawl your eyes out harder, sclera’s red, snot bubbling and trickling onto your lips only to be wiped away.
Click.
Crawling forward with haste, teeth gritting, fingertips grazing the pistol’s grip–
A light gasp stopped you.
A second after you looked up, catching a glimpse of her, she was already on you, kneeling to your level, left hand wrapping around your upper back, right hand cradling your head.
“Oh, Y/n..” Whispered, tearful apologies spilled from her lips, gently swaying both of you left to right. You hold her tight, you can’t envision yourself being detached from her hip now. After you both somewhat regained your composure, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, facing what you had done.
What you were forced to do.
full throttle series details.
CONTENT WARNINGS WITHIN THE SERIES.
GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE, adult language, graphic violence, organs, murder, attempted murder, minor character death, post-apocalypse, romance, angst, fluff. message my inbox if I left anything out.
ep. 001 ep. 002
YOU CAN READ full throttle ON AO3.
this post will be updated each time i upload a new fanfic post. credits: bottom image is from Naiukroan_vp on pinterest 💙
Your writing in full throttle is so good, I forgot to breathe. Please send an ambulance (but also another chapter)
the fact that you "forgot to breathe" is HUGE for me! I love it when stories make you really feel also I'm so happy you liked my writing, you guys made my week with this love!! i love you pookie(s). 🤭🩵
Ur Ellie fics cured my depression, cleared my skin, and paid off my student loans. 10/10, would read again
TEEHEE thank you so much 💕🤭 it took me like 12 hours just to write 2,020 words
IT WAS NOT CORNY!! it has a lot of romance potential! and flashbacks
thank you, thank you, thank you! you make my heart melllttt! 🩵🩵
🤭🤭
You need to make Full throttle a serie! PLSSS PLSS PLZZZZ
wow i thought the reunion thing at the end was like.. corny and ruined the suspense or whatever, yk? but GURL YOU CHANGED MY MIND, YOU GOT ME GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET.
it makes me so happy to see someone (and people) enjoy what I wrote! I'll definitely see what I can create next for full throttle- it'll surely take awhile like it usually does with me and my fanfics lmao.
anyway, thank you so much and i love you! 💕 (your message gave me a boost of energy when reading it, gah dayum)
YOU ATE
thank you SO SO MUCH this means a lot 💖💕
this is my reaction to seeing this in my inbox:
full throttle.
summary. the poor reader is the only one left remaining in her pathetic, ragtag group. cw. solotraveler, tad bit bloodthirsty!ellie x fem!reader, wlw, not really story canon, death, detailed murder/murder spree, blood, wounds, organs, and reunion. wc. 2,020 cr. images from pinterest. notes. sorry for the like… two month's absence lmao. tlou gameplay is rather cool so I wanted to write something about it. The apartments are different. ruhroh. anyway, i had fun writing this. her dead eyes look has me in a lil chokehold. disc. hey now instrumental earbuds recommended 01 / 02 / AO3
She killed them all, one by one.
People that you were associated with, even if you weren't as torn from their eventual demise, it was how quickly it all went to shit, that startled you. This one specific person of thin stature capable of brutally ending the lives of others in such a short amount of time left you baffled and it undeniably gripped your heart with fear of being her next victim. Her approach was aggressive and oppressive, it was as if you were on her playground, one of many to be unfortunate enough to be the next group to step their toes into her territory.
Each breath you withdrew wavered, and your thoughts were nerve-wracking, it spun at a fast pace equivalent to a revolver's cylinder rotating with no signs of stopping. Dread was a sentiment that has long ago been somewhat dulled through years of experience against the infected, adrenaline and stress were the most prevalent variables.
But this woman– this woman forcibly tugged it back to the surface without even being aware of your existence.
The small group you were in was struggling to come together, the man who took the reins, even though it was unspoken, did it out of necessity, he did his best to keep the group positive rather than at odds with each other. But considering the eight people in your group and how they are, that man was surely left to rot in the slightest inconvenience when he went out to search for supplies with four other people. No matter how much you asked about what happened, their vague explanation departed an unsettling weight on your chest.
Internally, you knew that something ill-fated happened that wasn't by the wretched, blood-drenched mouths of the infected– or maybe it was, just that they put him in a horrible position for it to happen. But you'll never know the exact details now, because they're all dead.
They intended to move where the group lives today, and along the way, in Downtown Seattle, a small coin on the road dimly shined like any other, an opportunity to coerce this young woman to surrender her weapons and backpack to us.
And with nature inherently flourishing across Downtown Seattle over time, this Capitol Hill gas station in particular was no exception to it either. The inside of the gas station had bloodstained, dirty, shattered tiles with the owners of said blood missing their lower half, their organs splayed out onto the flooring, and one other unfortunate soul had their throat brutally slit and chest shanked.
Some died the regular way, a bullet through their head or throat when they least anticipated it. She hastily retreats to cover every time she'd successfully end someone, it only took a few seconds again for someone to run into her trap once more, that or they were foolishly out in the open, gunned down by her Bolt-Action Rifle or her silencer.
You felt an overwhelming sense of cowardice and uselessness when you hid away after witnessing six out of the eight other people present get slaughtered, exploded, and stabbed with no remorse. You regret deciding to stay with this group, you should have taken off after the leader died weeks ago.
You dreaded to see even an inch of that auburn hair or any sighting of the hand-crafted trap mine premeditatedly planted on the ground.
You stayed low to the ground, your sweaty palms grasped the grip of the pistol intensely, your shoulders ached, and the two other people remaining in your group were communicating with one another, in search of that one person. You were hidden behind a car on the other side of the street in front of the gas station, peeking your head up to watch the others try and kill her. You felt pity for her when it seemed like it was in your group's favor at the beginning, deciding not to look at the woman to instead look into the cars for anything to pass the time, you didn't want to do that to her but.. It's never quite fair in the apocalypse.
In your peripheral vision, you see a figure rise from the roof of the building, throwing something down at the last remaining people's feet, detonating immediately on impact. A blinding flash and a loud bang rang through your ears despite not being too close to it. Gargled screams stole your attention, during the few seconds of smoke in the air, you can see that same figure riding the man’s back, impaling their chest and then into the side of their neck, the body falls to the ground with a harsh thud.
The last man standing eventually gained his senses after being disoriented for a brief moment, with no hesitation he turned around and tackled her from behind, the switchblade she had in her left hand rammed into his thigh, the scene was harrowing to watch, his cries of anguish and guttural groans rose in volume when she twisted it before pulling it back out only to repeat the actions. He released her after she jabbed him a third time, before he could move his foot towards her again, she shot him in the forehead, the bullet silenced by the empty plastic water bottle on the muzzle of the pistol.
That brought you out of your blanked-out mind, why were you just watching, frozen in your place?
Grass lightly crunched beneath your feet as you measured every step you made, silently attempting to retreat from your hiding spot as soon as possible while she was preoccupied looting their corpses.
Your head was on a swivel, consistently turning to the left to see if she was still searching the bodies up until you made a right turn, going from crouching to standing, making every reluctant step you make forward have you sweating, the soles of the weight of your shoes on the green grass felt like that was enough to give away your position. You stuck close to the walls of the building. After a small, handful of minutes passed, vacant apartments were what your eyes landed on, your steps grew rushed as the desire to just disappear far away from that woman increased. The pressure you felt started to wane, silence engulfing the atmosphere. Your speed-walking pace went to a jog, heading towards the entrance of the building.
The edges of your lips twitched as you reached the doors, twisting and pushing the door knobs, opening them up until it was ajar was when the loud pop of a bullet penetrating the wood above you, leaving it splintered and small pieces of it dropped onto your head, your nervous system was shook, fright rushed through your bloodstream, your body moving faster than your thoughts, another shot rang through the area, right where your head was if your movements were delayed by a thread. You slammed the doors shut, shoving your pistol into its holster, your feet shuffled hurriedly to push whatever was nearby onto the entrance. The door knobs jiggled and the doors thudded with what you assumed was the woman striving to barge in.
“I Know you’re in there!” Even through the wood, her winded words were wrapped in a belligerent tone of voice.
Booking it, you run past the front desk, the walls are caked in dust, and the air smells stale. The sound of hard thuds was washed out by your heartbeat pulsing in your ears, and when you opened the break room, shutting the door behind you, looking for anything that could help you get away. But time was of the essence because footsteps that moved at a slow stride reached your ears through the wooden door.
How the hell did she get in already?
There was nothing of utmost relevance that would aid you in your predicament, and the clock ticked at an unnecessary rate.
The footsteps outside the break room stopped, your head snapping to glance at the knob that was silently turning, the click of the door unlocking was quiet– that was when you acted without thinking, survival instincts gripped your body, and you swallowed your fear.
As the door was pulled back enough to be ajar, you sprinted and slammed yourself onto the door, knocking the woman on the other side back, her back hitting the wall‐ but you were onto her, trying not to give her a second to regain her composure considering how fast she is in doing so.
Her switchblade was the first thing that met you when you attacked her, her swing was fast enough to slice your cheek.
“Ugh!” Your head flinched, and the moment of weakness let her fist collide with your stomach, resulting in you being stunned enough to drop to your knees, when you saw the tip of the switchblade shine in your peripheral, aiming for your jugular, the hairs on your neck stood, your hands jutting out to grab her arm, trying to dislodge the switchblade from her crimson-soaked hands, the same hand that punched your stomach grabbed the back of your head by your hair, pulling your head back.
“Stop!” You plead, eyes wide. “You made me–” The only thing you heard from the other young woman was heavy breathing that bordered on growls with how hard she was inhaling and exhaling. And in the midst of your scuffle, pale green eyes met your own.
Her pupils dilate when they find your eyes, they flicker up and down your face, intaking every detail, the constraint she enforced upon you, although indistinctly, was eased. You can tell by her demeanor that if you try doing anything, the perplexity between you will dissipate, and her pitiless efforts of killing you will continue until you are deceased.
Harsh breathing was the only sound that played like a broken record.
Scarlet fluid in a splattered manner appeared to be across the entirety of her face and upper half, built-up dirt underneath her short nails and a pitch black shirt with white text partially veiled by grime and blood, a testament to the carnage she was capable and fully willing to participate in furthermore.
She muttered something incomprehensible under her breath, the agitation in her face faltered as the period of time-stretched. For you, your eyes remained wide, a tiny spark of possibilities imbued you. At first, her words were a tentative whisper, unsure if her thoughts were in fact correct.
“Y/N..?”
“Yes, yes, Ellie..” You swallow, your throat gently bobbing, the stinging pain on your cheek making the situation feel more substantial. Your answer was what made her hold on to your hair to finally be freed, her hands falling to her sides. Her hunched posture over you slowly withdrew to her fully standing. The atmosphere between you two shifted as relief washed the both of you down akin to a tidal wave whilst you moved to stand up, her green eyes watching over the twitch and pinch of your facial expressions.
“How… I.. I didn't know that it was you.” She shook her head vaguely, regret overtaking her as she stared at the blood trickling down your cheek, down to the smooth line of your jawline.
Your back met the wall, and your stomach and cheek ached, but your focus was directed to Ellie. Your feelings about seeing her again after so long were a tad bit muddled. She changed, of course—who wouldn't in the apocalypse? But the massacre you witnessed and now realizing that the person behind it was someone you knew left you astonished. Your curiosity about what happened while the two of you were separated certainly picked at you.
Shaking your head, “It's fine, Ellie.” You said, your chest rising and falling in harmony with hers, the corners of your lips jerked upwards a little out of relief that you seemingly get to live to see another day, that and reuniting with someone you loved.
“You did what you had to do.”
Ellie licked her lips before she tried to act out her thoughts, but when her hand reached out to touch yours she stopped herself.
this ending was bleh, sorry my ladies.. i got bored near the end D:
TITLE. Plucked Petals IN SHORT. Highschool love. Bestfriends to lovers, nervous teens ig– caitlyn X bestfriend!reader WLW ofc! This fanfic’s short and sweet. MODERN AU. Mostly or pretty much all of it is caitlyn’s pov D: sorry, half of it was already in her pov so I just kept on going atp. CW. caitlyn pecks you on the lipsss WC. 1,112 CR. official art [ Arcane: League of Legends ] caitlyn gif from arcanegifs on tumblr! TALKING. please send in some requests if you'd like, and make sure it's detailed. (❁´◡`❁) (in the ask me anything, I think.) Already experiencing writer's block this early that’s why it has taken me so long for anything LMAO. HAPPY NEW YEAR! & my birthday is coming up!!! Imma destroy all the cake q(≧▽≦q) PROJECT BEGUN. 1/2/2025 SEASON. i
She Loves Me.
“Caitlyn? Why’re you staring at me like that?” A light-hearted chuckle vibrated in your chest, a wide grin gracing your lips as you returned her gaze unwaveringly. Warmth and another feeling she wasn’t quite willing to name welled up in her heart, the smile that immediately appeared on her face as well by just glancing at the contagious smile that's always on your face when you’re around her.
The air freshener plugged into your wall carried a fresh apple cinnamon scent that wafted through the atmosphere in the comfort of your bedroom. The only light in here was the dim, yellow light from your lamp on the wooden nightstand behind her. Your home was always a place of reprieve for her, a safe space to think, or maybe not even think at all. And your quiet presence next to her when she visited made it all the finer.
Her bright blue eyes wavered when yours met her head-on; heat that threatened to spread across her cheeks was desperately and briskly quelled so she could uphold her composure in front of you. Her body, lying on her back, shifted to lay on her side, her knees pulling up a little closer to her chest, her smile passing into a faint one.
“I've been distracted a lot, recently.” Her eyebrows vaguely pinched together, her voice low enough to be a whisper. The dull glow of your phone softly dusted your features that she'd always silently appreciate without your knowledge.
Her left hand gingerly balled up into a small fist, her slim fingers intertwined with the exceedingly familiar solace of your blanket you both laid upon– but it couldn't compare to you in those not-so-frequent moments of vulnerability, you were there to console her, a shoulder to lean on, loyalty to what currently seemed had no end. You lowered your phone to rest it onto your stomach, your other arm pulled up to rest underneath your head, ears immediately tuned in to listen to her off of just those words, both curiosity and concern were so noticeable on your face in the moment, no matter how indistinct it was, she knew you well enough to catch onto the most imperceptible alteration in your expression when it happens.
But confessions– confessions regarding her love for you, that's not platonic, best friend love. This tender sentiment she felt within was more than just that, and she was aware of that fact. It's how you'd react to it. That, and the more fear-inducing one was when she would finally tell the secret she held onto for some time now, the chance that their friendship might be tarnished- no, no, she's overthinking this.
“What's been on your mind, Caitlyn?” you muttered, shifting your body to mirror hers. You left your phone in the middle and placed it slightly lower so it was not between your guys' faces. And now that your attention was fully on her, she couldn't stop the quickening pulse of her heartbeat. Just a few inches and her fingertips could graze the smooth skin of your hand…
“Caitlyn, you're doing it again.” An intrigued scoff left your lips, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips as the same hand she was just staring at moved up to sneak a boop to Caitlyn's nose. “Seriously?” Half-assing an eye roll in response, her small smile grew after that action. “Mhm.” You hummed matter-of-factly, your hand paused for a millisecond before it pulled away, back to where it was prior.
“What is it?” you prodded placidly, your expression going lax by the second. She pursed her lips, her gaze drifting away from your eyes for a second. A comfortable silence befell the two of you, and you patiently waited for her to speak.
“I've been contemplating how I.. Tell someone from our school that I like them. Romantically.” The beating of her heartbeat was loud, enough for her to hear it pulsing directly against her ear drums. Do you understand now? Did you already catch on to what she was putting down? A soft, quiet exhale through your nose was the first sign of anything from you after a few seconds of stillness that felt like forever for her, an enthusiastic grin plastered on your face that felt odd.
“Alright then, don't keep me in the dark– who is it?” Your soft-spoken words are drenched with anticipation. You moved your left arm to lean your weight onto it, your cheek resting on your shoulder. The ceiling fan hums, filling the void of silence that ensued after you spoke, eyes flitting across her visage from time to time. Caitlyn’s lashes fluttered shut, suspension boiling behind the two girls’ exteriors, soon to pour out and at long last admit to the feelings the both of you have felt together for a while now– but still blind-sided to each other’s level of affection for one another.
She Loves Me Not.
“..Is it Maddie?” A small, hesitant voice interrupted her, the enthusiasm that radiated from you just a second ago dimmed dramatically, and her eyes flew open, moving her body to sit up. “No, not her.” Shaking her head, her right hand slowly grazed the blanket to gently place it over your left hand. “It's not her– it's…” exhaling heavily through her nose, her blue eyes that once wavered when staring into yours earlier held itself firm this time, the heat of her palm seeping into your skin. “Y/N, It’s obvious, isn’t it?” She muttered, vaguely shaking her head as she leaned in a little closer.
Your white teeth peeked from between your lips when you slightly parted them, and her eyes flickered to it, she could see the doubt in your demeanor. “Y/N..” Both of her hands moved up to cup your face after you moved to sit up, her thumbs benevolently brushing your cheekbones. Our breaths mingle due to our proximity. “It's you.” She whispered, admiring your features beautifully accentuated by the yellow light of the lamp behind Caitlyn.
The corner of your lips quirked up and down, internally fighting the smile that desperately wanted to be freed from hearing those two special words from Caitlyn’s mouth. The same light-hearted chuckle rumbled in your chest, and the both of you smiled as the tension you both felt in that moment dissipated. “Really..?” Caitlyn nodded her head in response; your silly, dumb-founded expression brought a giggle out of her. “Yes, really, Y/N.” She erased what little space was left between you two to give you a peck on the lips, pulling away a little to look you in the eyes.
“Loved you since the beginning.”
She Loves Me.
TITLE. All I Have IN SHORT. clingy!jinx X reader "I Can't lose you too." | made with WLW in mind. CROSSOVER. Arcane: League of Legends X Cyberpunk 2077 WC. 1,555 CR. official art [ Arcane: League of Legends ] this is the outside of jinx's place that i tried my best to describe lmao TALKING. first ever fanfic. send any healthy criticism, i'd love that! at first it was ripperdoc!jinx but i had no idea where i was going with this tbh so i just went with clingy jinx lmao. and apparently jackie died differently in this teehee. might seem ooc, yikes. did I eat with this one yall? lmk :( PROJECT BEGUN. 11/30/2024 this took me awhile HAH! ACT. iii
Night City was bustling with people cheering and yelling, the disruptive revving of car engines speeding down the wide streets, the cool night air whispering past your skin, your hands comfortably resting in the pockets of your pants, your right hand holding onto your keys hidden inside the pocket, and your head slightly lowered as you stride past other people on the packed sidewalk. Your knuckles carry a faint throbbing ache that you're awfully familiar with. The night sky makes the ads displayed practically on every building look more vibrant than in the daytime. Your heart felt heavy, burdened by an overwhelming wave of sorrow and distress, while your composure dangled precariously, clinging on by the slightest thread.
You slip past multiple distracted spectators watching the race in Little China, occasionally bumping into others as you make your way through the other side of the crowd. Headlights whipping by, the smell of body sweat and alcohol invaded your nostrils. Your left-hand rises from your pocket to push a bystander to the side, finally making it out of the crowd to the other side, your main focus on reaching out to someone you held dear after a hot minute of your absence.
The street life drained you in ways you knew you'd be in if it meant you'd stay afloat in Night City. As the days went by including you sending little to no messages to Jinx, backstabbers were left sniffling the ground you walk after you're done with them, biz dealing with individuals where you can't always put your guard down, foolish gangoons pushing their luck with you. Being protective of what's rightfully yours, or taking from the more fortunate, getting to the top meant having every advantage you could get, and then you'll have a better chance to get far in this line of dangerous work.
After another minute of walking alone, the sounds of the people's voices faded as you made a right turn, chip bags, bottles, garbage bags, and papers lightly blown about, all this junk on the ground was a normal sighting in this inescapable city. As you walked further into a narrow alleyway, you stood in front of a gate that stopped you from moving forward, cyberpunk lighting coming from the street lamp behind it brought the otherwise dreary alleyway into.. something somewhat lively, and homey. You can give it that.
At the end of the alleyway were colorful chalk drawings of angry cartoonish monkeys and smack dab in the middle of the wall was a portrait of a little girl beautifully drawn by You and Jinx's hands on the brick wall. Pink wires as the background, and the two words "POW POW!" written above her head were drawn in a sprite shadow font. A soft smile touched your lips, the drawing carried a heavier purpose of memorabilia after little Isha's passing, and the relationship you three shared, you and Jinx cherished it. Pulling your right hand out from its pocket, multiple keys held together by a ring jingled from your hand movements, eyes scanning over all of them to land on a basic, silver key.
Holding it between your thumb and index finger, you insert the key into the slot and steadily turn it to unlock the gate. Shoving the keys back into your right pocket, you push it open with your forearm, stepping through the gate door, you close it behind you and quickly move toward the steps, the soles of your worn-out shoes softly thud against the concrete as you walk up the short set of stairs. You halt all your movement when you stand right in front of the entrance to Jinx's place. Rock music booming in the confines of the room's four walls was muffled by the metal door firmly standing in your way.
Letting out a barely audible breath, anticipating the argument you're going to walk yourself into. You swiftly repeat your actions by unlocking the door to her place. As you step through the threshold of the doorframe, slamming the door behind your back, your eyes are immediately met with a woman's slender figure in the middle of the room, aiming a gun your way that'd gradually lower to her left side as your recognizable appearance instantly brought her eyebrows to rest from its tight frown, her wide stare softened faintly. Her expression gradually faded into something resembling ease and a drip of irritation. The lightly worn-out leather chair behind her spun, showing the urgency and haste in her movement when met with anything that could quickly lead to life or death.
"Ah, Y/N." Drawing your name out with false unenthusiasm and unrestrained annoyance that had an underlying sense of harmlessness to it. "Popping in after ghosting me for three days?" Her voice was raspy, her upper lip subtly curling upwards. Violet-red eyes holding you in your place, her head tilting a little to the side, her jagged side bang obscuring her right eye, making her dark eyebags more notable because of the pink lighting in the room. She placed the gun in her left hand on the metal table beside her, turning down the rock music playing through the phone with the same hand without delay. Her hands clasped together behind her back as she sauntered over to you, stopping her movement when she was just a foot away from you, her head leaning in a tad bit, her right hand rising to roughly press her index finger against your chest.
"Why were you gone for so long? You know I don't like it when you're gone for that long." It was heavy, the unblinking stare and the want simmering in her heart urging her to close the gap between the both of you.
"Fixer hooked me up with a job that included insane amounts of eddies but- a lot went wrong. And I…" You held it together in the first half of your sentence but you couldn't hold it together forever. Every single second you were left alone with your thoughts the morning after the job was finished, losing Jackie that night, the man who earnestly stood by you since you started doing biz, a man you trusted, the gunfight following as soon as the brief, intense, and loud burst of noise of a pistol going off, the bullet hole left in his forehead, blood seeping from it. He was gone, in such a short time-frame. You'd spent time outside of work with him, fought together, and saved each other from sticky situations- This loss on top of Isha's was a pierce to your solid heart harder than you prepared for.
Just speaking on anything relating to losing someone important to you, first Isha, now Jackie.. You had to see Jinx, after going through that, you couldn't sit alone in your apartment that felt so void without anyone occupying it other than you, and being alone with your thoughts wasn't ideal. "Ahh… I just can't lose you too, Jinx. I'd rather it'd be me in harm's way, y'know?" Your eyes heat up. Darting, staring anywhere but at the woman standing right in front of you. Your bottom lip curls in for your upper teeth to bite down on it for a moment. Tears threaten to spill out.
She's all you have left.
A palm, warm to the touch, cups one side of your face, tenderly ushering you to look at her, tugging you out of the deep pit that is the fear consuming you. Her eyes meet yours head-on, a weak, close-lipped smile adorning her lips, her bottom lip vaguely trembling, her face expressing the same pain you held, understanding well how you feel at this very moment. Her thumb moves in smooth, circular motions upon your cheekbone. You gently grasp Jinx's upper arm, the arm using the same hand that tenderly strokes your cheek.
Neither of you could stall it any longer; both of you sought solace in the only person left willing to offer an hour of reprieve: each other. It was Jinx who moved first, ending the last shred of space left between you two to wrap her arms around you into a hug. Her nails digging into the back part of your shirt, Jinx's nostrils flare when she deeply inhales the scent of your vanilla fragrance with a hint of sweat, nestling her face further into your neck. "Just… Don't do that again, Y/N…" She spoke in a hushed tone, her lips slightly parted as the tension in her body melted from the comfort of your body heat.
"It was like.. I had no one when you were gone. You didn't even send me a message."
You couldn't bring yourself to respond, skeptical that your voice would shatter if you were to utter another word again. Your arms are wounded around her waist leaving Jinx's mind empty of anything negative leaving only tranquility you unknowingly bring to her already deteriorating soul. Choosing to gently nod your head as an alternative, your right hand slithering up to lay upon the shaved side of Jinx's head, your other hand moving up to plant itself on the small of her back. "Ha… 'msorry." Your voice was feeble, your breath tickling Jinx's nape.
"Heh, deep down, you're still a softie." A full smile graced her lips, her hold on you unyielding.