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"𝚆𝙴 𝙲𝙾𝚄𝙻𝙳 𝙷𝙰𝚅𝙴 𝙷𝙰𝙳 𝙸𝚃 𝙰𝙻𝙻" 𝙼𝙰𝚁𝚈 𝙼𝙰𝚁𝙺𝙴𝙽𝚂𝙰𝚆 𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙶𝚁𝙾𝚅𝙴 𝚇 𝙱𝚄𝙻𝙻𝚈! 𝙱𝙰𝚂𝙺𝙴𝚃𝙱𝙰𝙻𝙻! 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙴𝚁

‼️🛑𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚂: 𝙼𝙰𝙹𝙾𝚁 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙳𝙴𝙰𝚃𝙷, 𝙰𝙽𝙶𝚂𝚃, 𝚗𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚢 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚘𝚕, 𝙶𝚁𝙰𝙿𝙷𝙸𝙲 𝙴𝚇𝙿𝙻𝙰𝙽𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽 𝙾𝙵 𝙰 𝙵𝙰𝙲𝙴 𝙶𝙴𝚃𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙴𝚇𝙿𝙻𝙾𝙳𝙴𝙳, 𝙶𝙾𝚁𝙴!!!!!!!, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚈 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍🛑‼️ 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚌𝚛𝚢 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚍 𝚘𝚖𝚕

𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘹 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘉𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘉𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘉𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘉𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘸𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘺 scary

𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳, 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘢 𝘬𝘪𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘹 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 (𝘉𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘺). 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘹 𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯' 𝘴𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘭 𝘴𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘭 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺, 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥.

𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘨𝘢𝘮𝘦, 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘩𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘏𝘢𝘸𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘪𝘯.

𝘈𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘢 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘳 𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮. 𝘛𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘺'𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘬𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘳. 𝘏𝘦 𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘵 "𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱 𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘋𝘕𝘋 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘕𝘖𝘖𝘖𝘖 𝘐 𝘏𝘈𝘝𝘌 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴. 𝘚𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘋𝘖𝘕'𝘛 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦. 𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘯 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘫𝘰𝘣 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘢𝘺 𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘴. "

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘨𝘰𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘺, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘳 𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘥𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘧 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸.

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘰𝘯! 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘓𝘶𝘤𝘢𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘦! 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘤𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘩.

𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘱 𝘣𝘤 𝘐'𝘮 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵

𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘩𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘯 𝘶𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨... 𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘔𝘈𝘙𝘠! 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘶𝘯 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱.... 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦. 𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘥𝘦𝘴... 𝘉𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘨𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘳. 𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘥.

scenario where leon gets infected with the T-virus but is still self aware

Pure angst where leon (any version of leon) goes on a mission with the reader. But the reader is about to get infected with the t-virus until leon comes and takes the shot for them therefore infecting him.

But throught ought this entire thing leon is still self aware kinda like in the train to bussan where at the end the dad turns into a zombie but is aware about his daughter and curent situation. And right before leon fully turns into a zombie all his memories with you flash before his eyes before he turns into one of them

(⁠ᗒ⁠ᗩ⁠ᗕ⁠)

I might write a fic about this!!!

You asked for it

Crying so fucking hard in the Monstro Lounge rn.

You Don't Wanna Know

[Until Dawn] Samantha Giddings x Female Reader

Word Count: 3.52k

Proofread: Yes

Content Warnings: Sam quite literally falls into insanity, mentions of blood, stabbing, knives, language (?), OOC Sam

[A/N]: This was fun to write, ngl, but I also wrote the whole thing fairly quickly in one sitting, so I apologize if it's kind of hard to read. I did read back over it, but I was sleep deprived, so there are probably mistakes.

Enjoy!

Blade in hand, Sam trembled, readying herself to strike the moment the creature lurking in front of her charged. She steadied her breath, her hazel eyes shooting toward Mike. She gave a subtle nod, a signal that he needed to ready himself for when they both took off running. With another puff of air to steel her nerves, Sam lifted her leg and slammed it down, her foot stamping the cold, cracking cement beneath her, echoing throughout the vacant room. A screech rang out unlike anything she or Mike had ever heard. The Wendigo that had been desperately trying to find the two in the room lunged forward toward the blonde. She timed her movements, ducking down when it came too close and managing to hook her arm around its inhumanely thin bicep. Willing her strength into the right spot, she shifted her weight and forced the Wendigo backward with a twist of her body, essentially throwing it to spiral toward the ground behind her.

“Mike, run!” She hollered, briefly glancing back to make sure he did so before her attention returned to the creature now scrambling to get back to its feet. Once regaining its bearings and balance, the Wendigo thrusted itself in Sam’s direction once again. Sam gripped the handle of her knife even tighter and made sure to angle herself to strike. The moment it came towering over her, Sam propelled the blade forward, listening with a grimace as it tore through the skin and thin muscle of the beast’s chest. It staggered backward, unfazed as the sharp steel was pulled out from its cavity, and quickly ran closer yet again, somehow unbothered by the gaping wound now pouring blood by the heart.

Upon seeing that the Wendigo wasn’t going down, Sam panicked, wondering how she could permanently keep it pinned. She couldn’t die here–she had someone she had to get back home to. She needed to be there for her, and she needed to be there for her friends, who had all likely made it back to the lodge and were needing a plan. If she could figure out how to kill these things, she could help the group defend themselves as well.

How could she kill this thing?

How the hell could she kill this thing?

Maybe she couldn’t kill it, but there had to be a way to hold it off long enough to get away.

She studied it as urgently as she could, barely coming up with a half-batched plan as it closed the distance between them. Her hands trembled, and she internally screamed at them to still. As the long, bony fingers of the Wendigo’s hand grasped Sam’s arm, she yelled out, jabbing the beast’s jugular as violently as she could and shoving it backwards. Still gripping her arm, the Wendigo yanked her to the ground as it fell onto its back. Before it could get the upper hand again, Sam shuffled up and gripped the handle with both hands. Planting both knees on either side of the creature’s torso, she dug the knife in further with all the force she could muster, yanking it sideways and slicing the thin muscle of the throat, trying her best to decapitate it. She made it about halfway to the nape of its neck before it screamed out louder in agony, instinctively picking her up and hurling her away in defense.

With a loud howl of pain, Sam slammed against the floor, skidding across the concrete and rolling away for a moment. She hissed as she propped herself up on her elbows, nails digging into her scalp as she tried to clear her vision. Tugging her hand away, she found blood now drizzling down from her fingertips, spilling out and wrapping around her digits like ribbon until it pooled across her palm and the backs of her knuckles. Almost entranced by the way it moved, she wriggled her fingers before clenching them together to form a fist.

The scars on the sides of her hands burst open at the sudden tensing, spilling out into more rivers that joined the staining streaks already there.

Then, upon hearing the echoey gurgling from her attacker, now several feet away, Sam’s head shot up. Her head throbbed harsher at the sudden motion, but she still managed to gain her bearings and assess what was happening ahead of her. The Wendigo, letting out scratchy, broken whines as blood oozed down its form onto the floor, shook and clawed at the skin now torn open on the side of its throat. Aside from the groan when she had been thrown, Sam hadn’t made any noise, meaning the beast ahead had no way of knowing where exactly she was.

She took this as her opportunity, noticing that the Wendigo was struggling to even stumble around, clutching at its throat and letting out another shrill wail. As soon as it collapsed to the floor, Sam turned and slipped against the concrete as she took off toward the direction Mike had gone, wrestling against the urge to look back. Against her better judgment, she clutched the bloodied knife toward her chest, praying she didn’t have to use it again.

A safe distance away, Sam called out for Mike.

Months after Sam and the others had left the lodge, they finally finished giving their statements to the investigators on the case. As far as she knew, everyone other than Josh had survived, though none of them had talked since they were picked up by the rescue helicopter. Sam had refused help from any of the counselors the police had recommended, not wanting to live through the horrors she had witnessed down in the mines all over again.

Instead, she focused on returning home to her girlfriend, who had no idea of what had been going on the entirety of the time she was gone. She had promised to only be gone for half a week at most, but after all of the interviewing, it had been well over three months. The officers on the case let her make a call to [Y/N] so she could explain the situation, but Sam had kept the details very minimal. The last thing she had wanted was to upset [Y/N] even further. And to her relief, the majority of the details hadn’t been released to the public yet, considering they hadn’t gone down to discover the monsters themselves.

Even when they went down to seek them out, Sam knew most of them wouldn’t survive.

Finally, after an excruciatingly long ride home, Sam had made it. She was quick to stumble up to the front door and let herself in, making a beeline to her shared bedroom with the one she was looking for. Before she got upstairs, however, she snuck into the garage and placed something down, then heading back inside. Briefly, she caught a glance of her reflection in one of the mirrors hung on the wall. She noticed the scar leading from her forehead up past her hairline had started to slowly heal, the one she had earned from her first full battle against a Wendigo. Her hand trailed up to gently let her fingertips graze alone the rough tissue, tracing the shape as she hummed.

For a moment, she considered splitting the scar back open, desperate to relive the thrilling moment she had suffered through down in the mines. She ultimately decided against it, figuring it wouldn’t make a difference. The scars would all still be there, even after they healed. She huffed out a small sigh and started toward the stairs again, finding herself standing in front of the bedroom door for a moment before nudging it open.

Normally, when Sam and [Y/N] saw each other again after being separated for an extended period of time, they’d hug one another tightly and spend the entire day together. Despite this routine, when they finally saw each other then, all Sam could do was wobble forward onto the bed before pulling the smaller girl into her chest. “Sam? Holy shit, you’re back,” [Y/N] whispered, sighing in relief as she tugged the blonde closer and turned her head to listen to her heartbeat. “I was so worried.” Sam grinned at her words, silently stroking her hair for a moment before she gave a response.

“Ah, no need for that. Things just got weird.”

In the back of her mind, Sam knew that “weird” was a severe understatement. However, she had no idea how to put what she had seen into words. She managed to dryly answer [Y/N]’s rapid questions for a bit longer, but ultimately fell asleep in the middle of the one-sided conversation, the exhaustion from the whole ordeal finally kicking in.

Days passed, and it was clear right away that Sam had changed. Instead of being the openly kind, considerate woman [Y/N] had grown to love over the years, she had become cold and distant, growing increasingly defensive and aggressive when anything was mentioned about her trip. How could she have grown hypervigilant over a trip with friends? She wouldn’t open up about anything, no matter what [Y/N] tried. She eventually shrugged it off, however, assuming it was just exhaustion and stress from whatever had taken place while she was gone.

She made it her goal to help Sam relax again. She’d cook her meals, get her clothes and everything ready when she’d shower, let her latch onto her when she would occasionally sleep in, and would practically baby her in some aspects, watching her like a hawk to make sure she didn’t collapse or grow visibly sick from whatever thought might’ve crossed her mind. This lasted quite a while. [Y/N] had been hoping Sam would finally start opening up after some time if she was just given the support and space she needed, though that moment never came.

Desperate, she had even researched possible ways to work through whatever was swarming through Sam’s mind. She reached out to a few licensed therapists here and there, but they weren’t able to do much since Sam wouldn’t cooperate with any of their questions. Nothing seemed to work. She just wanted the woman she fell in love with to come back to her.

As painful as it was to see her lover and best friend slipping away and becoming someone new, [Y/N] eventually respected her wishes and let her be, gradually halting her questions about the trip to the lodge. She couldn’t get into contact with anyone else from the friend group either–and she wondered if it was for the same reason that was causing Sam to treat her so differently as well. She hoped they wouldn’t all shut everyone else out the way the blonde was already doing to her.

The days would all go by the same way: [Y/N] would get up early when Sam would finally let go of her, fix breakfast for the two of them, eat alone in the kitchen, and head out for the day, usually catching a glimpse of Sam sauntering downstairs and sitting down at the table to finally eat. It was like she was running on a survival schedule. She’d only eat and sleep when she absolutely needed to. Anytime she tried to take a nap, she’d end up springing up from the cushions in a cold sweat, always out of breath. It didn’t take long for her to stop trying to rest throughout the day.

During those times, when she wasn’t able to sleep, she’d tap at the scar adoring her forehead then bring her hand back down, picturing the way the waves of her blood had danced against her skin months prior. She’d find herself staring at her palm for hours, losing track of time. It was hard for her to remember to eat when this happened, so she had to be reminded.

[Y/N] would text her at lunch, checking up on her, and hardly ever got a response. She’d carry out the rest of her shift for the day, then head home, always finding Sam blacked out on the sofa in the den or in their shared bedroom, struggling to stay asleep for more than a few minutes. She’d never greet [Y/N] anymore, but she would still make some kind of motion to let her know that she acknowledged her coming back into the house: a small hum, a little nod, or just a simple glance in her direction. Not once did she utter anything.

Then, to end the evening, [Y/N] would prepare dinner or order takeout. To her surprise, Sam would actually sit and eat with her most nights, though she never made conversation.

The two would then trudge up to bed once they finished cleaning up, shower and get changed into their nightwear, and then collapse into a deep slumber the moment they made it under the covers. This repeated for days, which shifted into weeks, and then shifted into months. As the time passed, Sam seemed to get a little less aggressive, though she was still relatively mute. One night, Sam got a call as they sat in the living room, picking at their fast food and watching something random on the TV. She seemed to grow relieved at whatever the caller had told her.

When [Y/N] asked what it was about, Sam simply pocketed her phone and shook her head, returning to her meal. “You don’t wanna know.”

[Y/N] frowned at this, but gave up instantly, forcing herself to push through her sudden nausea and finish her dish. As she took her last bite, she glanced over at Sam, who had put hers down on the coffee table and began to stare blankly at the wall across the room. With a small sigh, [Y/N] stood and picked up both plates, carrying them over to the kitchen to toss the remaining food and rinse off the forks and plates.

As she turned to slide the rack of the dishwasher open, [Y/N] blinked and froze upon seeing Sam wander out into the garage.

The blonde made sure to shut and lock the door behind her once inside the large space, her socks coming into contact with the chilled stone beneath her and hardly doing anything to keep her feet warm. She didn’t mind it though. Instead, she ignored the chill that shot up her spine and waltzed to a loose panel being pressed into place behind the multiple boxes she and [Y/N] had piled up for storage.

She lifted a few boxes, sliding them across the ground after moving them behind her, then wriggling the loose wooden plank from the wall and propping it up against a few heavier boxes a few feet away. Her hand reached inside the dark opening now revealed to her, not flinching so much as once at the feeling of cobwebs grazing her skin and entangling themselves around her fingers. She rummaged around momentarily, but cracked a small smirk upon feeling the thin plastic top of the bag she was searching for.

With a quick tug, she lifted the bag up and towards her chest, lazily moving the panel back into place before turning around and retracing her steps to the door leading back into the house. She flicked her wrist and unlocked the door with ease, pulling the door open and letting herself inside. Barely closing the door behind her, she casually walked into the kitchen, planning to stroll straight past [Y/N] without being noticed.

She was noticed, though. It wasn’t just her presence that was acknowledged.

Instantly, [Y/N]’s eyes trailed down and landed directly on the bag pressed tightly against Sam’s chest. She bristled at the sight of the rusted knife in the bag, coated in dried, flaking blood. Her gaze shot back up to Sam’s, who was now staring blankly at her.

“Sam?” She started cautiously. The blonde had no reply, only blinking at the sound of her name. “What is that?” Still, she was met with a deafening silence.

Finally, fed up with the lack of responses over the months, remembering each time Sam avoided the subject of the lodge, [Y/N] stepped forward and feigned her best look of strength. A newfound sense of anger bubbled up underneath her skin and up her throat. The questions began spilling from her lips before she could stop them. “Sam, what the hell is that? Why do you have it? Has that been here this whole time? Is that from the lodge? Did you fucking kill someone?”

For the first time since she made it home, Sam smiled, though it sent a chill down [Y/N]’s spine. The blonde’s grin only widened as she stepped forward. A sound mimicking a chuckle erupted from her throat, more of a low, broken rumble. She shook her head and lowered her tone as she spoke, adding onto the signs that were triggering alarm bells in [Y/N]’s head. She got her answer, even as Sam gave an indirect one.

“You don’t wanna know.”

She brushed past the trembling girl, calmly heading upstairs and into her office down the hall from the bedroom. There, she found the stand she had purchased shortly after making it home. Her fingers traced the lines of the bag still in her hands, toying with the corners before tugging it open. With a sickening smile, she slid the knife out at a painfully slow speed, marveling at the way the light overhead made the browning blood staining the rusted steel glisten.

A hum of admiration slipped from her lips as she dropped the bag by her feet, lifting the knife up higher to get a better view. With a gentle motion, she lowered it to rest on the wooden stand in front of her. Her feet led her backward enough for her to get a better view.

From the corner of her eye, she could see [Y/N] peering in from the doorway, beads of sweat trickling down her face and neck. Sam beamed at her, motioning for her to come in and stand next to her. Afraid of what would happen if she refused, [Y/N] did as told, hesitantly planting herself beside the blonde, whose hazel eyes were trained on her form. Finally, Sam waved her arm forward, motioning toward the knife.

“You sure you want to know what this is?”

With a loud swallow, [Y/N] nodded. “This is the knife that I used to save myself back at the lodge. I slit open a Wendigo’s throat to survive. Thought I’d keep it as a kind of token of sorts. Anytime I start to feel unsure about something, I can look to this as a source of motivation. It saved me once, it can save me again.”

[Y/N] could only stare ahead, her mind spinning as she struggled not to faint. What was a Wendigo? How would this knife be a token of motivation? How was Sam so disgustingly calm about murdering something? That wasn’t like her at all. She hated seeing the smallest of animals being hurt–how could she just murder one? Was this even the same Sam that she had been waiting for back when she was at the lodge to meet up with her friends? Who was the woman standing by her side?

She had so many questions–too many questions–and she wasn’t sure if she would ever get answers to any of them. Or even if she wanted to.

Finally, she tore her eyes away from the source of her spiking nausea to look up at Sam. Her blood ran cold when she turned to find the blonde staring down at her already, something in her eyes confirming [Y/N]’s fear that she had changed. That stomach-churning smile still painted her lips, though now it seemed far more menacing. A hand slid down to clasp [Y/N]’s, making her yelp and jump at the contact.

She glanced down to find Sam now interlocking their fingers, then back up to find the smile gone.

“What’s wrong, [Y/N]?” Sam questioned, her tone flat and devoid of any emotion.

She leaned down, now uncomfortably close to the smaller girl’s face, seemingly staring dead into her soul. She cocked her head to the side, almost in a mocking motion. “Did you not want to hear about this after all? I sure hope that’s not the case. It’d be a shame. After all, I’m trusting you to keep this little prize of mine between us, and only us. Will you do that for me?”

[Y/N] couldn’t speak, terrified of saying the wrong thing. She screamed at her mind to say something, anything at all. All she could do, however, was stare. She gave a small, almost unnoticeable nod after a torturous string of silence. One in which Sam only stared, unblinking, into her eyes.

Finally, Sam’s lips split into a grin again. It didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Good. Let’s see just how long you can keep that promise.”

𝙤𝙣𝙚-𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙙

kisaki tetta

loving kisaki tetta was never easy.

kisaki loved tachibana hinata, and you love him. you weren’t quite sure when you fell for him, was it in middle school? high school? you’ve practically known each other since you were kids, and naturally, you became the person he trusted the most. the person he would show his true self to. he told you everything— who his enemies were, his plans, what he liked, and even who he liked. time and time again you saw his tears and shouts.

why hanagaki? what did she see in him? he’s just a wuss, he doesn’t deserve hina, he would say. kisaki knows that he can never win her over and yet he refuses to believe that. it hurts you each time. you want to see him happy. you care too much, you wish too much, you love too much for someone who doesn’t share the same feelings as you. you want him to know how you feel, but you were afraid to tell him because you’re certain that the rejection would tear you apart. you’d rather suffer than have your friendship with him ruined, adding something else to his burdens. 

you want nothing more than to have kisaki care about you as much as you do, to hold him in your arms lovingly and do all sorts of cute couple-like things together. it hurts that every small exchange that happens between the two of you are so important to you, but so trivial to him.

somewhere along the way, you told him. 

kisaki, i love you. i always had. you tell him you know that he still loves hinata and that you probably will never be able have a relationship with him. in return, he tells you that he had known that you did. he says that he knows how much it killed you whenever he spoke or thought of her around you. he tells you how much he appreciates you. 

you wonder how long unrequited love can last, how to find a way out of it, but it hurts to know that kisaki has someone he likes and it hurts even more when you realise that that person could and would never be you.

A Losing Game Part 1

Paring: Oikawa Toruu & Iwazumi Hajime

Genre: Angst with minor fluff

Synopsis: A broken heart is all that's left I'm still fixing all the cracks

-We're the best of friends.

Don't you mean were?

Huh? Well he could never stay mad at me too long. We always forgive each other in the end.

What if the end never comes?

There's always an end.

An end to what exactly?

The losing game of course.

Parts: Pt. 1 , Pt. 2 ....more coming soon

___________________________________________________________

~Lost a couple of pieces when I carried it, carried it, carried it home~

When did the panic attacks start?

“Funny of you to think someone like me could ever have one of those.” Right because funny was the way to put it right? No, no it was not. In fact, the only thing Oikawa found funny was how many times he found himself curled up somewhere lost in his own thoughts, his own imagination, his own hell. Funny

You know you cannot lie to me, right?

He is right he cannot lie to him. After all he has been coming to these sessions for years. He usually always told the truth so what is different now? Oh, right the difference now is that he believed in the lies himself. He does not know when it started, but he knows whatever he is shielding himself from would shred every ounce of sanity he desperately held on to. So why now? Why is he turning on himself? Why can’t he keep his mouth closed? Why can’t he protect him from his self?

“I cannot remember where or when they started. Every one of them just seem like one big blur, almost like it never happened. There was one, one that I can never seem to shake. It was not my proudest moment. I was practicing my serves when…”

*Mentions of past events*

“Oikawa-san please show me how to serve.” There he was in all his glory. Kageyama Tobio. I didn’t exactly love him, but I didn’t- well no that was that. It’s like he was put there just to destroy everything I had. Sure, we were on the same team, but with him around it’s like I was slowly being replaced, and of course I couldn’t have that happening. He thought he was better than me I just know he did. He made a mockery out of me, acting as if he looked up to be me just to pull the rug up from under me whenever he pleased.

“Get away, get away, get away don’t come over here!” I didn’t know what I was doing, it wasn’t my fault I couldn’t control myself. Didn’t he see that? Didn’t he...understand that? I was stressed, I was upset- No! I was angry. So. Damn. Angry. I’ve worked my ass off over, and over, and over trying to achieve it, trying to win. Didn’t he see how far behind we were? It didn’t matter how many times we won, or how many trophies we bought back. It wasn’t worth a damn thing if we couldn’t beat the one person, the one team holding me, holding us back. “Calm down, you dumbass!” Suddenly, he was there, like my guardian angel stopping me from doing wrong.

“Sorry”

It was all I could think, I could say. One thing I’ll never know was if I actually meant it. Why would I mean he was the enemy right? “Kageyama, I’m sorry, but we’re done for today.” I could barely hear the words exchanged around me. “Oh, okay.” That’s all he had to say. There he goes mocking me yet again.

“The change up today was to clear your head. You need to have more composure!”

“Right now, I can’t win against Shiratorizawa, so there’s no way I can have composure! I want to win and go to nationals, to win I need to-”

“I this, I that. It’s annoying!” Before I could get a word in, I felt a powerful impact hit me. He headbutted me. “Do you think you’re fighting by yourself !?” You’ve got to be kidding me, you dumbass! If you think how you’re doing equals how the team will do, I’ll punch you!

“You already did!”

“There’s no one on our team who can’t beat Ushiwaka one on one! However…”

He went on to tell me how we have a team for a reason, that we can do it together. I didn’t know how much I needed that pep talk, but it sure as hell made me feel better.

Being there for you made you a better person wouldn’t you say?

Without him I would be someone way scarier than that person who was there that day in the gym. He’s my…anchor.

You seem to alternate between past and present tense. Do you think your past struggles may still have an influence on you to this day?

I-well no it’s just that…we made a promise. A promise that the both of us will go to nationals together, and I intend to keep that promise. I will keep that promise.

Oikawa are you aware that you graduated 2 years ago.

I made a promise.

~I’m afraid of all I am~

It’s just- what if I break that promise? What if he gets tired of waiting, and doesn’t want to be around me anymore? I can’t even stand being around myself for too long.

~My mind feels like a foreign land~

I always get lost in my head, and I feel like I can never find my way out.

~Silence ringing inside my head~

But when he’s around there’s nothing but silence because he knows just the right things to say and do to make my brain quit torturing me.

~Please carry me, carry me, carry me home~

I don’t know what I would do without him. If there’s something wrong he’d figure it out before me. If he thinks I’m overthinking things he’ll yell at me to snap me out of it or give me a hit on the head to help pull me back to reality. To a stranger it seemed so violent, so random, but to me I’m nothing but grateful. He’s my safe space and being around him feels like home to me.

Haven’t you been feeling lonely since the fight?

How could I feel lonely when we’re always together?

A Losing Game Part 2

Paring: Oikawa Toruu & Iwazumi Hajime

Genre: Angst with minor fluff

Synopsis: A broken heart is all that's left I'm still fixing all the cracks

-We're the best of friends.

Don't you mean were?

Huh? Well he could never stay mad at me too long. We always forgive each other in the end.

What if the end never comes?

There's always an end.

An end to what exactly?

The losing game of course.

Parts: Pt. 1 , Pt.2 ....more coming soon

_______________________________________________________

~I’ve spent all of the love I’ve saved~

If you could describe the relationship how would you describe it?

Well, he’s my best friend of course.

No, I mean in detail. How would you describe it?

Um, I guess I would say that we’ve been together since we were kids, and no one could ever come between us. I love I admired him in every way possible. He has the ability to make everyone around him look up to him and see him in the best way possible. Even in the worse moments he could make me laugh and smile. Without him I wouldn’t know how to function. It’s like he gives me purpose. He…is my purpose.

~We were always a losing game~

Did you ever stop to think that your feelings were more than just best friends, maybe platonic or lovers even?

As if! The day I admit to having feelings for him would be the day I die. Although I can’t say the same for him.

~Small town boy in a big arcade~

Let’s talk about something else. You loved volleyball, loved it enough that you used it as a stress reliever correct?

It’s the only thing apart from him that keeps me sane apart from him.

Even with the major competition you had?

Y-yes even then.

~I got addicted to a losing game~

For something that kept you sane, it took a lot from you both mentally and physically.

Well yes but it was worth everything in the end I mean it was…wasn't it?

You seem to have had a lot of rivalries, but they never stopped you from quitting and why is that? Why did you continue to play? Continue to hurt yourself? Continue to push forward why?

Why wouldn't I keep playing. I'm the captain, and as a captain you should never give up. I made promises, I worked my ass off, and what good would that all be if I gave up doing every little obstacle. It will be for nothing. I refuse to be a failure...I can't be a failure.

~All I know, all I know~

You do know there is nothing wrong with losing right? It's ok to lose.

Of course, it's ok to lose, it's only ok because you don't have a choice. We don't have a choice in life, in the games, in anything! It's ok to lose because sometimes you already lost…but me? I'm so damn tired of losing. I'm done losing I can't lose anymore I hate it; I hate it, I hate it…I hate it. If I lose one more thing I'll go insane! Just because it's ok to lose does not mean that it won't fucking suck to lose. I'm so tired losing.

~Loving you is a losing game~

First it was that's stupid boy Kageyama stopping me. He was in my way all the time, and once I felt like I got rid of him, then it was that stupid, stupid, stupid team Shiratorizawa. At first, I thought it was just pure luck for them. I thought maybe they had a small advantage. I thought that all I had to do is practice, practice, practice. I thought that was all it would take to be the best, and to win, because after losing over and over again I realized I wasn't the best. I had refused to give up. I refused to be beaten, embarrassed, humiliated. I made a promise to my team; a promise to go to Nationals and every single year it was always them that got in the way. They snatched the golden ticket right from under us no matter what we did. No matter how good of captain I thought I was, it wasn't good enough. That's why I refuse to give up I can't give up because of that promise to my best friend, and I can't just break that promise you don't understand. I can’t break this promise it means everything to me, to us. Just when I thought we could finally do it there he came again, that stupid Kageyama with his stupid team. I just- I don't understand I thought I was the only one who could be great, but I kept getting pushed back further and further, one after the other it just never stopped. The red lights never stopped flashing. The voices never stopped! I don’t want to stop. I just wanna be great, I just wanna win I need to win for me and Iwa.

~How many pennies in the slot~

One thing I could say that is very repetitive in all the conversations we've ever had since we first met, is that you seem to show more and more love towards-

Don't say it, don't say his name I already know…

You seem to be really ashamed when discussing this certain topic. Why is that?