Maaan, this Ernest Chiriacka illustration has been in my K/S inspiration folder for over a year now!! Thank you for making this postâthis was the push I needed to finally make it happen xD
Thinking about Bucky restoring old cars after he and Steve retire. They buy a place with a separate garage for him to work in, with a loft where Steve can make his studio so they can work together separately (so what if theyâre a little codependent now, they deserve it after all of those years). Somehow, the most commonly painted scene becomes Bucky working on one of his cars.
He sells most of the cars once he restores them, usually to older vets for a low price. Theyâve got more than enough money these days. But there are a few cars he keeps - heâs gotta be able to take Steve for a ride up and down the coast in style every once in a while.
So the best days of their retirement are spent in the garage. Old music playing, the clunks and clangs of Buckyâs tools as he works, the sounds of Steve humming as he paints Bucky working again and again and again.
SUMMARY: A horrific reunion between two old friends and a field day of doubt with questions the Soldier never dared to ask himself.
A/N: *Cough cough* Just.... leaving this here before running off and disappearing for another good 2 months... *looks around*
AND BEFORE YOU ASK, am I grabbing onto the way Bucky was resisting the brain washing and running off with it? Yes. Yes, I am. Anyways! The big moment is now here and clear! Lovely angst!
WARNINGS: Graphic descriptions, hella angst (i'll make up for it in later chapters i pinky swear).
âBucky?â The winter soldier Hydra strived so hard to achieve never hesitated. It was not part of his wiring, it was not part of his âcodeâ. So, why was he hesitating? Why now?Â
Shoot him.Â
Kill him.Â
That was his mission, wasnât it? Eliminating Captain America to remove the possibility of any interference with Project Insight was his mission. But that name kept racking his mind.
The soldierâs grip tightened around the Hydra issued SIG-Sauer P220, his trigger finger itching to make a move and fire but nothing came. In seeing the wide eyed look in the other manâs face made him stop for a split second.Â
âWho the hell is Bucky?â
Usually on missions he wouldnât give a rats ass who the hell he was sent to kill. They were orders after all. Orders he couldnât refuse. But that single name made him stop dead.
His eyes shifted to the side as if he stopped to consider the name before he raised his arm to finally pull the trigger but was momentarily cut off by Natasha firing the Milkor MGL the Soldier brought along on the mission, and instead took the opportunity to disappear into the smoke growing around him.Â
 Bucky. BuckyâŚ?Â
âMissions report.â Pierceâs commanding cold voice shot through the stuffy yellowish tint lab and silence only responded for the soldier.
The soldierâs face contorted into one of frozen inner turmoil as he sat there unmoving in the examination chair.Â
âSoldier, mission report. Now.â
â..I knew him.â The soldierâs voice was loud and clear, his eyes almost searching for an answer as he snapped his focus away from an unspecific spot to his side towards the secretary who stared ice cold shards into his own. âI knew him,â He repeated once more. His words floated back into his ears as if he were trying to convince himself of what he said.Â
âHe called me a name.â
The soldier pretended to not hear the voice from one of his handlersâ hushed murmured words to the other almost in alarm. The spoken Russian seemed to tangle into nonsense in his disoriented mind.
âHe called meâŚâBuckyâ.âÂ
âSoldierââ Pierce began to interrupt the disoriented soldier in front of him, watching as his eyes darted around the room like scurrying rats underneath a subway.Â
Bucky grew increasingly hyper aware of his entire body as the image of who he saw on that bridge during his mission came back to him once more.
His fists unconsciously began to open and close into a tight fist almost as if he wanted to feel and regain any sense of control, his metal arm whirring softly as the steel knuckles curled over and over again.Â
Who was he? The single-handed question made his eyebrows furrow into a tight knit. He felt as if he mightâve heard a voice so similar [before. Perhaps a close friend of his long ago? Partner? ButâÂ
âI knew himââ
âSoldier, thatâs enough.â Pierce quickly interjected. âPrep him,â Bucky could practically hear him snarl almost as if he were a gray wolf bearing his fangs to defenseless prey before slaughtering them in cold blood. âNow.âÂ
Men in white lab coats hesitantly step forward towards the soldier, and he did nothing in turn for he was expected to comply. They quickly moved past Pierce before one turned to his side to fetch a mouth guard, meanwhile the other two presumed scientists pushed back the soldier forcefully by his shoulders, his back slamming against the uncomfortable examination chair.
He knew what was coming now but he did nothing to prevent it.
What could he do? He was supposed to follow orders and he played his part beautifully every single time.
One of the scientists moved towards Bucky, holding out the plastic mouth guard and Bucky allowed the black plastic to be inserted.Â
The machine clinked and whirred as the men in white set up its system, powering up with an unwanted noise of electricity.
Bucky swallowed back a gasp as those straps found their way over his wrists and strapped him down tight, his head now being forcefully tilted back as the other piece of disgusting machinery connected, settling on both sides of his temples which covered a bit of his vision. He bit down hard on the little plastic to the point that his gums began to ache, his eyes widening with fear behind them as his chest heaved at the metal contraption around him.
Now only screams of relentless pain echoed through the small space now. Each shock sent unforgivable piercing knife-like pain shooting through Jamesâ nerves. His muscles spasmed violently against their will, making the Soldierâs vision fuzz as his brain buzzed loudly in his ears. It felt as if he were fading in and out, black spots spilling at the edges of his peripheral vision.
He couldnât focus on the yellowish world around him as he continued to twist and convulse violently.Â
No one is coming to save you. Get up.Â
But he couldnât help it this time as it all faded into black.
A/N: Yay! Sooooooooooo guys whose is back?!?!?!!?!!?! Heh.......... promised this one way before the dinosaurs even fucking existed. OOPS! Unmotivation has been kicking my goddamn ASS lately (ouch!) but we will continue on fellers. SO NOW IM BACK WITH ANGST AS ONE DOES! BUT CHAAAAPPPTTEEERRRSSSSS!
Just a little bit of fluff <3
SUMMARY: Loki and Mobius get to live in a not too shabby place in their own corner of the world on the new timeline after everything and awakening in the arms of each other.
A/N: I'm afraid that this one is suuuuuuuuuuper duper short but at least it isn't angst!! dont worry loki is going to be perfectly fine and happy this time.
But, enjoy nonetheless!
The sweet sunlight of the morning sun poked through the blinds and dimly illuminated the bedroom with a soft glow. The light casting a beautiful orange over the queen-sized bed uncovered two gentle lovers in the arms of one another, holding each other tight, their ankles hooked together without a single thought of the waking world around them.
I mean, who could? The thick, warm covers weighed the pair down against the mattress almost like a press; they'd stay in bed all day if it meant that theyâd never have to go back into work again.
The gentle light fell across Mobiusâ fallen-shut eyes, causing him to slowly stir awake from his deep sleep and groaning softly as he attempted to stretch his aching limbs but failing as something was limiting his clumsy movements.
He went still for a couple seconds, his eyes refusing to flutter open while he tried to adjust to the unwelcomed light pouring into the room, but then slowly came to his senses.
Mobiusâ eyes finally fluttered open at their own pace before instinctively glancing down at the pressure against his chest, seeing the one and only God of Mischief with his arms wrapped tight around his body.
Lokiâs head was slightly tilted to the side with his cheek pressed against Mobiusâ chest but those dark, sage eyes peered up tentatively. Absolutely filled with an intense longing. It was a beautiful occurrence to see every morning, and Mobius absolutely adored it every single time.
âAnd a good morninâ to you too, Lokes...â Mobiusâ yawned, his voice heavy but never failing to greet the god with some energy, even if it was weaker than he intended it to be.
He definitely needed a nice hot mug of coffee right about now⌠âHow long have you been at it?â
âDefinitely way past the time I should have gone to bed.â Loki almost hummed with a chirpy tone, shuffling just enough to sink deeper into the warmth underneath him and trap Mobius even more against the mattress.
Loki being a Jotunn didnât exactly help Mobius in his current situation, making a suprising shock of a shiver shoot up Mobiusâ spine, but it was almost a nice contrast from the sunlight shining through the window and the heavy warmth of the bedcovers. It was a weird sort of⌠soothing aid?
Mobius wasnât sure himself as to what exactly to call it, but it brought a sense of tranquility through his body.
He couldnât help but chuckle as he watched the godâs usual morning routine unfold right in front of him.
âWho knew the god of mischief was such a cuddle bug?â Mobius snickered, earning the most dramatic over-exaggerated groan of exasperation from Loki in response.
The raven haired only tightened his life-threatening hold around Mobius. His cold hands slowly slithered underneath Mobiusâ loose shirt and headed towards the middle of his back, gently trailing his spine with each individual digit as he tried to memorize every single detail, making Mobius shiver before letting out a soft huff at the other manâs quip.
âOh, come on. Shut up,â Loki weakly chuckled, his tired voice slightly muffled against the soft fabric of Mobiusâ shirt. âYouâre enjoying this too much.â
âI love you.â
âFor all time?â Loki teased Mobius, flashing that familiar cheeky little mischievous smirk Mobius knew so well.
Mobius chuckled as he leaned down just enough to press a gentle kiss against the godâs temple, pulling him closer to himself. âAlways.â
loki conjuring illusions of mobius to keep himself sane after season 2??? u might be a fucking genius iâm gagged
đĽšđĽš thank you so much, my darlingâŚ
after rewatching season 2 that ending STILL HIT ME IN THE HEART OUCH!! but i just had to write something like this since it had been in my lilâ ol noggin for days and most definitely wants some form of connection after the finale (of course looooonngggg after it)
CW: Angst, hurt / no comfort.
SUMMARY: The aftermath of Loki replacing himself with He Who Remain's Loom to save his best buds and missing Mobius soo Loki casted a little trick to save himself from the loneliness just for a little while.
A/N: Lovely Lokius! Hell yeah!!!!!!
HERE WE GO AGAIN LADIES, GENTS, IN-BETWEEN, OR NEITHER! I AM BACK FROM DEATH HIMSELF AND READY TO SPAM THE POST BUTTON WITH MORE ANGST.
This shit is barely even revised by the way... so expect a few oopsies. I was too excited to post
âI want to bring back the TVA.â
âNo. Wrong. Try again. What is it that you really want? Come on.â Sylvie immediately interjected, her voice stern.Â
âI want to save thisâ IâŚI want to save everything. All of it.â How much longer must he keep up with these foolish lies? Sylvie could see right through them like glass. After all, she was a Loki, without fail.Â
âIs it really that hard?â Sylvie spoke once more, âCome on, keep trying.â
âI want to save the TVA.â
âWhy?â The goddess retorted.
âI want the TVA back.â Loki repeated as if he was questioning his own words for a moment, a desperate attempt to reassure himself if this was the right path.
âAnd?â Sylvie pressed on.Â
âI want my friends back,â
Ah⌠there it was.
Loki finally admitted with a hesitant sigh, his thin lips quivering ever so slightly. âI want my friends back.â He repeated, his voice almost solemn.
 âI donât want to be alone.â
He had spent almost his entire life in isolation, or so, he felt it deeply. Cast as a shadow alongside his brother, Thorâs mighty presence.
All those âheroicâ adventures with the Warriors Three and Lady Sif? Only tagging along for his own sake thanks to his own brother.
Those were Thorâs companions, not his. They never truly were.Â
Leaving Asgard in a pathetic suicide attempt that led to nothing, only the destroyal of the Bi-frost after trying to fight for Odinâs approval.
Always the outsider, the enemy. The monster parents tell their children at night. Fighting for the title of âKing of Asgardâ, ruler of all the ten realms as if he had the rightful heir to it.
And there it was spat out as if it hurt to say physically; Lokiâs greatest fear was exposed out into the world, to live in isolation forever.
Forgotten.
To have no meaning.
No truth.
The fate every Loki was destined to since the beginning of time.
What a selfish way to live and the God of Lies knew it all too well.
 âSee? Weâre both selfish.â Sylvie stared back at the man in front of her, shrugging her shoulders weakly as to make a point to what she was trying to say.
âI know this is hard. But your friends are back where they belong.â Sylvie continued on, compassion in her words as she slapped Loki with the cold, hard truth he couldnât bear to live with. Â
âBut without them⌠where do I belong?â The god couldnât help but shift his dark eyes downwards, his head following in the same similar fashion. He took in a shaky, almost empty breath.Â
He knew he had nothing to come back to.
Asgard would not be the same as before, all pruned. Erased.
Loki would have to start it all again from scratch but he wouldn't dare step foot.
For what? It would all come back to bite him, all would lead back to the same; it would have been too much.
As the story always went, all Lokiâs were destined to lose no matter what.
But what he found within the TVAâs unwelcoming, cold walls was a stable group of friends.
Friends that would sooner or later fade off into the timeline.
All he touched, it withered away into the past but now it was different. This time, he would choose his own destiny.
He knew what he had to do if he wanted to reach his truest potential. To save them. Lokiâs newfound family inside of those harsh cold walls.
Now sitting in his throne at the Citadel at the End of Time, the throne he had longed and thought about for so long finally in the palm of his hands as he stared out into the dark abyss of green timeline branches.
 Loki sat ever so still, unmoving but his thoughts wandered on and on. They had never stopped ever since he made the sacrifice needed to save all he held so dear to his heart. Mobius, Sylvie, O.B., Casey, B-15⌠he knew they would be just fine on their own as he overlooked their protection from the sanctity of this newfound kingdom but that familiar loneliness was already creeping and consuming his very being.Â
He found his place and knew this was the role he needed to play, but before it all he couldnât help but think back before he decided to make the sacrifice.
All of those hours with his trusty Mobius by his side at every waking moment, all of the harmless bickering, the peaceful key lime pie breaks before getting right back to work.Â
âLet time pass byâŚâ He heard the familiar disembodied voice from one of those green branches he held tight within his grasp, the TVA branch he knew and wished to see the man who spoke at least once more.
The God of Stories felt a ghosting weak smile tug slowly at the ends of his lips as his grip around the green branches tightened.
He missed him.
He missed all of them collectively but there was no one else Loki missed more than Mobius.
That sass, the endless jokes, the way his smile shined and the skin in the corners of his tired eyes crinkled into soft crowâs feet, and his leading touch.
Oh, how they were always so clingy with one another.
When they went back to 79 A.D Pompeii to figure out how Sylvie had been able to go undetected by the TVA for so long? Mobius just watched the godâs mischievous antics and blabbering all of that nonsense of nothing mattering anymore due to the eruption made Loki actually enjoy himself for once the time being⌠or was it because his theory was correct? Probably the latter but it didnât matter anymore.
He missed him.
His partner.
Loki sighed to himself as those thoughts kept plaguing his mind, each and every memory shooting a bullet of pain straight into his heavy heart.
His viridian gaze slowly shifted down to stare at the cracked rock littered with specks of gold, his head following along with it as his eyebrows furrowed for a moment before turning up to see the one the god yearned to see once more.
â...Mobius.â His hoarse voice croaked from his scratchy throat as the sight made him choke up just a bit.Â
Loki knew deep within his heart that it wasnât real. Just one of his own conjurations to soothe himself but he pretended it was real⌠just for today. It was real just for today.Â
âLoki?â Mobius replied with a gentle breath, taking a few gentle steps closer to the seated god in front of him with such ease.
Loki couldnât help but let out a shaky gasp in response to the manâs warm voice filling his ears, his pulse quickening at the mere sight and his aching heart pounding behind his ribcage drove him mad.
He wanted to reach out in desperation but knew it was futile, knowing how his sole duty now was to manage the timelines with his life and with letting go meant chaos within the multiverse.
âPlease⌠I-â The Norse god began with a tiny gasp of exasperation, having to pause and break away his gaze from Mobius in a weak attempt to calm himself the best that he could.
His lips trembled as he tightly shut his eyes to stop those now stinging tears from making an appearance but it couldnât be helped.Â
âMobiusââ Loki tried to speak once more, but only managed a strangled breath, his throat finally closing off.
Before he could process the sound of his own gentle sobs, Mobius pulled the trembling god into his arms.Â
âCâmereâŚâ Mobiusâ murmuring words hit Lokiâs ears gracefully as they both sat there for hours it seemed like, now unspeaking.
Loki instinctively tucked his face into the other manâs shoulder at his familiar voice, hiding himself away as he swallowed back against harsh stinging tears at the touch he had missed for so very long.
Loki tensed underneath the other man's touch, his entire body convulsing as he finally let those unforgiving tears slip down his cheeks in short sobs and dampening the collar of Mobiusâ suit.
The tightness around his body was the only thing which held Loki from falling apart entirely. He had cried before but always within his own private chambers.
He could never allow himself to look so vulnerable in front of anyone but he had changed.
The TVA, Mobius, changed him.
He finally allowed himself to cry and cry until fatigue overtook his very soul, his body now completely limp in Mobiusâ hold.
Mobius held Loki firmly in his arms, completely silent as his hands slowly rubbed away at the other manâs rigid shoulders before slowly setting to rest his palm in the middle of the godâs back.
â...Mobius, I donâtâ I canât do this alone. I understand that this was the only way but I just⌠Iâm sorry.â Lokiâs muffled whimper now filled the empty space.
 âHey, heyâŚâ Mobius cooed. âYou did what you needed to do. Youâre a hero, Loki.âÂ
He leaned back just enough to face the seated god, those hazel eyes of his filled with worry gracefully falling onto the godâs viridian ones before reaching out just enough to wipe away the tear streaks staining his pale skin with the pad of his thumb gently before moving one hand to intertwined with those beautiful raven curls of his and the other cupping Lokiâs jaw. âYou saved everyone, Loki. Remember that.âÂ
âI miss you.â
 âHuh, I miss you too.â
And just like that, the heat that once surrounded Loki's body gone into the wind. The emptiness slapped him across the face and it's deathly cold pierced his aching heart.
Third-person limited; Steven Grant
A/N: FIRST FANFIC EVER POSTED! I finally decided to put on my big boy pants and write this stupid thing after weeks of thinking about it. I am so sorry, Steven. This one might tug at the heartstrings a little. *looks around and gulps nervously...* Okay, back to business. Enjoy, lovelies.
SUMMARY: After months of pushing everything down and turning his back on his own problems. A bad day single-handedly caused Stevenâs world to crash down.Â
READER DISCRETION: HELLA ANGST, self-deprecation, detailed breakdown, implications of depression, destructive habits (?). not too use what else to add to this.. LMK! (P.S. Stay safe guyz)
âYou know, like the super group of Egyptian gods?â Stevenâs gesturing hand moved almost as if to exemplify what he had just said. âYouâve got Horus, Osiris, Tefnut..-â
He began to list without a second thought. He shifted his full focus onto the poster of The Ennead before being interrupted by Donnaâs begging pleas, her exhausted voice breaking his chain of focus.Â
âIf this is some weird audition to tour guide here, the answerâs still no.â
Steven couldnât help but let a weak subconscious chuckle escape his throat at those words that only tore him into two, the locked chains around his heart prickling the organ at the thought of never really being able to spread his true love for the world of ancient Egypt.
 âNo. What Iâm tryingâŚâ He trailed off for a moment to register her words before continuing on, âThatâs actually crushing to hear. But what Iâm trying to point out⌠and Iâm not trying to slag off marketing, but thereâs been a major blunder because theyâve got seven gods here, and The Ennead has nine.â
He finished those last words with a sort of sass, a mild unconscious smirk twitching at his lips as he threw out that piece of knowledge. Before he knew it he could feel Donnaâs piercing gaze shoot through him like fiery bullets.Â
âI fired two of them for beinâ late.â Donna practically spat in distaste.
âListen, if you donât stop natterinâ at me, I swear Iâll shove you in a sarcophagus,â
Slowly, Stevenâs proud smirk faded off into a ghostly frown as he slowly shrank into himself.
âYou can tell the bloody pharaoh in there whatâs wrong with them and all. Go on.âÂ
Steven finally lowered the poster back onto the marble floor with a subtle frown, attempting his best to rest it against the wall of boxes behind him in a slight tilt.
In his mistake as he backed away from the inaccurate poster, the piercing shrill of a wooden frame scraped the marbled floor obnoxiously, slowly falling backwards. Steven's pathetic attempt to catch the poster before it fell to the ground and failing miserably only earned a harsh, low growl from Donnaâs pursed lips.
 âGo. Now. Just leave it! Get out. Go away from me.â
She spat out to the poor man with pure poisonous venom in her tone. Those familiar words made the gift shopist shrink into himself fully this time.
In response to Donnaâs barking orders, Steven retracted his hands away from the poster and instead turned to the door with his tail tucked right in between his legs.Â
âAll right, always lovely to chat.â
Just lovely. First missing the bloody bus⌠then getting chewed out. Thanks, Donna.
All Steven Grant thought of now was stepping foot into his not too shabby apartment and lying in bed just to repeat the hellish cycle once more for the rest of his bland life until the day he lay 6 feet under.
The poor gift shopist walked along the dimly lit halls of the Egyptian museum, his shoulders sagging forward making his average frame seem almost smaller in appearance.
His eyebrows furrowed tightly as he thought back to the rough morning, sulking as he passed by J.B., the charming security guard he knew very little about.
Other than that, he enjoyed spending most of his time on the job watching silly otter videos instead of actually securing the damn place and watching the cameras as instructed by Donna.
The sound of Stevenâs shuffling footsteps didnât go by unnoticed by the security guard, making him perk up just enough to acknowledge his presence but barely enough to earn Steven even a glance away from the screen.
âLater, Scotty!â J.B.âs chirpy voice sang Steven a goodbye like usual.
Scotty. Fucking âScottyâ.
The wrong name never truly bothered him as much as Donnaâs almost infantilizing âStevie,â but the way his day was going, he wanted to at least take some control of it. Right? Itâd do something to soothe his pathetic self. âŚRight?
âSteven. Itâs Steven, actually. With a âVâ.â
Grant replied neutrally as he walked by, but it seemed his suggestion fell unheard in the security guardâs ears.
âHuh?â J.B. hummed in reply as his eyes remained fixed on the bright screen, fawning over those cute little otters as if nothing else in this world mattered.
Yeah. How Steven felt better alright. Being left unnoticed was a daily part of his routine, but now it felt worse than ever before. Gods how he just wanted to get home and feel that warm embrace of his comforter, as well as seeing his little one fin wonder âGusâ.
âGoodnight, J.B. Iâll see you tomorrow.â
Steven barely uttered as he finally passed the front desk and stepped foot outside those pillars of an entrance that led out of the museum, shuffling out onto the dark and meeting those desolate streets of London.
He kept his head down most of the time, his shoes dragging behind him as he moved through street by street, his feet following their usual designated pathway back to the apartment.
Though there were some signs of life here and there as he walked, his exhausted eyes slowly flicked up to watch the most adorable couples pass by⌠families laughing and enjoying themselves.
What did Steven have? Other than Gus, the endless knowledge and companionship he usually found in books in his usual routine⌠his mother?
He would miss her calls every time.
He knew how busy she was due to all of those endless travels. I mean, who else would send those charming little postcards every week?Â
The silence that followed quickly behind those signs of laughter and joy felt almost comforting; the peace Steven longed for ever since he woke up was a miracle to his frustrated soul.
His head hung low, watching the cars pass by with a silent hum of their engines droning as he continued his way underneath those dimly lit streetlights above him.
That hum settled his overworking brain to a slow stop, silencing all of those nerve-wracking thoughts of today for even just a while.
Deep within his moments of thought, a jet black car sped right past the man, the roar of the engine howling in his ears as it made him jerk right back into reality and stop dead in his tracks.
Before Steven was about to yell out in protest against the careless driver, he could feel his favorite navy jacket and trousers stick onto his skin uncomfortably, making him wince and a subtle groan escape from his tightly pressed lips.
The absolute bastard had sped past a puddle of muddy rainwater that had been collecting since the afternoon.
 âJustâŚlovely,â Steven grumbled under his breath, shuddering mildly as a breeze ran through the air and chilled his aching bones.
Everything just kept piling up and up and up. Was the universe against him?
Continuing with his almost seemingly never-ending path back to his apartment down the now barren street, the more tears seemed to sting the corners of his down-turned eyes, biting down on his lower lip instinctively to prevent a pathetic sob from ripping through his throat.Â
Come on, Steven⌠just a few more blocks, mate? Come on, you bastard, get it together. You canât just cry like some baby in the middle of the street, ya lazy sod. Just a few more blocks, and then you could finally feel sorry for yourself.
Thoughts... and thoughts just raced through his never-ceasing mind. These streets only seemed to get longer and longer-
Before he knew it, he was standing right in front of the familiar apartment door he had longed to see all day.Â
The exhausted man stared silently at the blue door briefly before slowly slipping his left hand into the back pocket of his messenger bag, fishing for the apartment keys sluggishly.
The second the tips of his fingers even brushed the cool metal, he slung them out almost as if he were in a quick draw and shot the bullet straight into the lock, turning the key into the welcoming darkness ahead of him desperately and stepping into that engulfing black void.
Steven barely even bothered to properly store his bag, letting the heavy thing slowly slide down his sagging shoulder and drop onto the dark oak hardwood floor with a gentle thud.
A gentle murmur escaped his lips once those gentle and exhausted eyes turned forward to meet Gusâs tank, his facial features relaxing momentarily at the sight of his fishy friend.Â
âHello to you too, GusâŚâ Steven smiled weakly to himself before moving quickly to feed Gus his usual dinner of pellets.
He hated and knew how sluggish he was moving, but he was too tired to do anything about it.
He just wanted to sit in peace before repeating the cycle once more tomorrow without fail. Finally, setting the plastic little bottle of goldfish flakes back down, another exhausted grumble passed through thin lips.
âMission accomplished⌠finally get to settle down for the night.â He couldnât help avoiding a ghosting smile of relief on his face. A little quick studying session to forget about todayâs nightmare and tomorrowâs upcoming inferno.
The last thing he was looking forward to, other than that welcoming blue apartment door.Â
Stevenâs feet moved on their own once again as he turned his attention towards his little private corner of the world, a warm sensation of relief falling through his tense body as he saw the desk, which was barely even visible with how many books were stacked or open upon each other.
The beautiful sight was practically calling for the man; geography, scientific studies, you name it, and he had it available on hand without fail.
As soon as Steven sank into the creaking chair, the weight of the world fell off his shoulders while he buried his nose in the books, his eyes diligently skimming page after page in an attempt to forget how miserable he was with whatever he could grab first.Â
A pen sat still in his right hand while the other moved across the top of a page, following and scanning the words before writing something down in a notebook he had laid open beside him.
The grip he had on the quite sensitive pen tightened unconsciously- A sharp pop echoed throughout the entire silent apartment.
It had snapped.
And before Steven knew it, the sudden flow of dark ink had completely ruined the crisp and pristine paper flooding the page in a single, unstoppable wave.
The notebook he had saved up to buy for himself on his birthday was now ruined by a stupid, careless mistake, and the smell of fresh ink filled the air.
In seconds, the page was a mess.
The perfect storm of ink and paper, which in turn described these hellish weeks alone with himself.
The sharp pop echoing, followed by the void which engulfed the paper, was loud enough in Stevenâs mind to let out a wail, tears quickly rushing and prickling the corners of his eyes. Louder than the truth, heâd been swallowing for months.
He quickly let the pen fall onto the table, shoving his face into his hands as his jaw clenched and his breathing came out in short puffs. He felt pathetic.
He knew he was pathetic. Sitting here all alone in his shitty apartment, crying to himself while he could have been doing something better.
 âI.. I canât- FuckâŚâ
He mewled out to absolutely nobody desperately, his fingers pulling tight on those dark curls of his as he felt everything he had been shoving deep into the closet for months fight its way up his throat.
Look at yourself, damn fool.
Canât do a single thing right if he even tried! Disgusting. Donnaâs right, you know! Youâre nothing but a useless snob. A messy blot plaguing.
Harsh tears stung the edges of his eyes like fiery flames as they rushed down his cheeks with no signs of stopping, his clammy hands clinging onto his face almost in a desperate attempt to hide himself away from the world in such a vulnerable state.
 âI canât⌠I canât do this- Oh, GodâŚâ
Steven repeated over and over out loud like a never ending mantra, his broken sobs growing more and more violent as his entire body shook like a leaf now in his unmoving spot.
The heavy weight in his lungs kept pushing down his tightening chest, causing him to choke on whatever air he had remaining in his throat, his cries coming out in convulsive gasps now as he heaved.
That familiar sensation of loneliness slowly engulfed his mind, plaguing it with a heavy void he couldnât ever escape for good.
Suddenly, Steven wasnât sure what his body was doing as he found himself in a stray corner of the apartment, curled up into himself like a scared child hiding away from the monsters lurking in his closet.
His nails dug deep into his sides as the pain in his chest only grew heavier by the second.
Those deafening wails fell quiet and had turned into horrible grunting due to the weight in his lungs, making him choke on air.
The stuffy walls of his apartment seemed to close in on him rapidly, an unbearable nausea filling his entire being as he continued to grunt.
It came to the point where Steven tried his hardest to push himself off of the cold ground in an attempt to rush off into the bathroom, but failing miserably as his limbs felt too heavy as if he was held down by chains, so all he could do was lie there like a dog.
Suffering. Aching. And wishing. Wishing for it all to fall short into a deep slumber.Â
In degrees, Stevenâs unstable state subsided within the hour or so of just laying on the oakwood floor helplessly, the grip at his sides remaining tight in sign to comfort himself.
The nausea finally passed as he stayed there a grunting mess before finally taking in a deep breath of air in-between quiet broken whimpers, each gentle sob sending a shudder through his curled frame.
His aching limbs screamed for release from the tight hold he had on himself but mentally refusing to let go of the only pressure he had distracting himself from falling back into that debilitating state.
Fatigue quickly took over his body now, once he had managed to calm himself down, but still too weak to move, so Steven lay still in place without a single protest⌠allowing himself to bathe in the darkness quietly.
And thatâs where he remained unmoving until Hypnos had finally come to claim his restless, desolate soul.Â
A/N: So.............................................................. YEAH! Hope you fellers enjoyed reading and thank you. yaahooo! I AM SO SORRY.
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