#*^^;

[mewnbuns]

I WANT TO KEEP PLAYING BUT OH MY GOSH I AM VERY TIRED !!! i will do my skincare and then play a bit more before i pass out SOBSOB— this part was very scary 😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️

[spacethefinalfucktier]

I LOOKED UP STAR TREK DRINKING GAME AND IM DYING GUYS

[chibijinebra]

OH Hi new followers *v* Thanks and I hope you enjoy your stay as long or short as it may be~

[iactaxaleaest-deactivated201709]

"Just let me die." // iacta-aleaest

Dying would have been much, much easier he decided. Pain, hell Fallon could take pain, he understood and could very easily suppress his reaction to it, but this, goodness this was terrible. “Aahhah.” The pained little chuckle he made eased into a hiss when the sanguine-slicked coat drew away from his bleeding side. He’d expected the area too be too numb, or rather drowned in pain to really entertain the cool lick of air that skittered over his drenched side. Ice gripped his stomach and tendrils crept up his spine—body cooling increasingly with it but he listened and he pained attention and he tried not to make a sound that would disclose how badly it all hurt.

Shaky hand caught in Stefan’s grip, he felt it moved and set just upon the gaping gash. Adjusting with discomfort, a low groan rolled through his lips, brows pinch at the center. “No, no my friend, it isn’t selfish.” Reasoning, his tongue felt thick and the words were heavy, to speak them was more difficult than he cared to admit but he persisted. Responsiveness was good, it would ease some of that worry—he hoped it would.

Another trembling hand clamped down upon the one that had been placed against his bleeding side, keen blue optics listed to keep Stefan in view, pupils mere pin pricks. His lips parted again and as Fallon tried to will himself to speak when given an opening, he did not wish to cut Stefan off that would have been rude, it was then that he tasted copper. The taste made him feel sick, as often blood did when consumed. “I don’t think there is much of a story to tell that you cannot already see.” Consciously dragging the top hand away from the wound and along his slacks, he reached out and lightly brushed fingers over Stefan’s arm. A touch could often by reassuring and as much as he disliked being touched, Fallon was not against touching others tenderly to ensure that they knew they had a friend or someone who cared. His heart fluttered, eyes creasing as a strained smile endeavored to creep over his visage. “I could not rightly leave you to the claws of another therapist, you are a very precious, special person, Stefan.” Laboriously he murmured between shallow inhales and exhales. This was quite literally the worst pain he’d ever experienced.  

[findyouinthedrift]

Stefan laughed. It was a miserable excuse for one, breaking a little at the end at what sounded suspiciously like a sob. "You'd better not," he said and would you look at that, you're crying again. "I tried to punch the last guy, you're kind of a m-iracle worker." It's the apocalypse, we can't just let our miracles go that easily.

Four minutes. That was it, that was the official response time. It was also completely useless thing to know or even remember because time passes differently when people are bleeding out, when you've got blood on your hands, when someone is dying right in front of you. That didn't change the fact that the flood of relief that he felt was instantaneous when he finally heard the rapid foot steps from behind because it might actually all be okay this time.

And that didn't change the fact that he started praying -God, it's been ages since you've actually prayed- even as the medics shoved him aside and went to work, yelling things and doing whatever the fuck it was medics did. {"Amahan namo, nga anaa sa mga langit-"}

Time decides to fuck him over again, because the next thing Stefan knows, he's awake from a nightmare he doesn't remember in a hospital, in a room that's way too fucking cold -or maybe that's just him- sitting in a chair next to the bed Fallon's in.