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#gonna eat dinner and then contemplate suicide
dreamscape-popstar · 1 year
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The Death and Life of Justice
Chapter 1: Til Death Live our Hearts
CW: Suicide contemplation, implied self harm, and implied eating disorders.
Story in the read more!
*SLURRRP* 
A young man downs an entire can of Arizona Tea, oblivious to any noise they make towards themself. He slams the emptied can onto the table they sat at, placing the palm of their hand on the top, crushing it down.
He lets out an exasperated sigh. Office work was the last thing he'd ever thought of, but unfortunately, bills need to be paid.
"Y'know…" a coworker spoke up, "if you keep chugging that stuff in one breath, you're gonna end up vomiting it back up."
The young man sighed, and rolled their eyes at the remark. "Funny of you to care about me so much. Remember who threw me under the bus at the last sales meeting, Joseph?" they spat. 
Joseph laughed nervously, pushing up his square glasses back on his face. Being angrily addressed by Justin was like asking for trouble. He'd never do anything, but the possibility was still too alarming despite that.
Joseph grabbed a freshly brewed cup of coffee from the employee lounge's coffee machine, and scurried out of there. Justin pressed their clenched fists to their forehead, and wracked their brain for motivation. The day is basically over. But he might have overtime. Boss always gives overtime. He's never enough.
Standing up, Justin takes his backpack with all his supplies, and walks out of the employee lounge. As they head towards the door, a hand is placed on their shoulder. It's the fucking boss.
"I know what ya did son. And I ain't too proud. Arson ain't a reasonable solution to rival companies, ya hear me, boy? Not gonna complain about the loss in competition, but I might get charged for your stupidity. Watch it, Justice."
Justin, tensed up, sighs a "yes sir" and when the boss removes his hand from their shoulder, he heads out the door.
The setting sun shines right into their already ruined eyes through the tall buildings in front of them. This area in the city was always their least favourite. Too crowded. But, it's all they've ever known, and will continue to know. Life never changes, and definitely not for them. He starts his path down from the office and down south, towards the more open street. The smell of barbecue wafts through the air, making Justin uncomfortable.
He hated thinking about dinner. Or what dinner he could afford. It was always the same. Cheap packaged noodles. His stomach growls. Justin sighs. Same old story. He begins to walk home.
Life never changes, and definitely not for Justin. The same day repeated over and over again. Depressed life back home, walking to work in rainy weather. Forced inside a small cubicle doing meaningless work. Getting yelled at by coworkers and his boss. A 30 minute lunch break consisting of canned drinks. Going home. Eating like garbage. Sleeping. 
Today, however, will be the last day of life for Justin Justice. On top of the tallest building he stood, the chilled wind grazing his skin like tiny needles. He edges over to the railing, looking down. All he's ever known was menial tasks and a life of pain. He was starving. Starving for anything he could get his hands on. His scarred hands rest on the railing bars on the roof. This is it. 
Today is the last day of life for Justin Justice. And he'll let everyone know it. Climbing on the railing, he stands, staring down at the ground 40 feet below him. Jump.
"Um, what are you doing…?" a voice called out.
Startled, Justin turns around to face the noise. Unbeknownst to him, the railing still remained at his feet, until he lost his balance and began to fall. The figure behind him gasped in horror.
Today was the last day for Justin Justice. The darkness surrounded him like a sickening spiral, driving him mad. But finally, the torment was over. He won. No more thoughts. No more sound. No more living. Today was the last day for Justin Justice.
"Hello? Hellooo? Are you okay? Please wake up!" 
Today… was the last day for Justin Justice.
"Can you hear me?"
Today was the last day for Justin Justice.
"Please say something."
Today is the first day for Justin Justice.
He jolted awake, panting heavily. Sweating, he looked around, trying to find his surroundings. Where was he? Why is it so cold? Who is talking? 
"Woah, woah, hey! It's okay, it's okay! I'm right here. Hold my hands. Yeah that's it. You feel their warmth right? They're very warm. Let the warmth surround you. It's going to be okay. It will all be over soon." They cooed at Justin
Justin's breathing slowed down. Warmth filled his body. He was still shaking.
"Wh-... Wh-what h-h-happened…?" he croaked out.
"You were on that thin railing. You fell and I caught you! You should be more careful though, you lost your balance and could've hurt yourself," the voice replied
Tears well up in his eyes. He breaks into a sob. "No… why did you catch me… why didn't you let me fall… why didn't I die…" he sobbed.
The figure places both of their warm hands on Justin's face, wiping away the waterfall of tears. "I'm sorry… I couldn't let that happen. You seemed so sad. I wanted to help you…" they whispered softly.
Justin sobs more. He continues to cry. Emotion bottled up for so long came flooding out in sadness. He couldn't believe it. Who would care enough to help him? He didn't matter to anyone. Just some extra. He never mattered to anyone.
The figure sat there, letting them cry. The dusk was cold and uncomforting. But the figure's warmth comforted Justin. The first time he's ever felt warm. It hurt.
Justin looked up to face the figure, praying that this was just his imagination's cruel joke against him. Before him was a tanned girl with gentle eyes, her pupils glossed over. She smiled warmly. Her black bangs hung over her face, and tendrils of hair on her side framed her face. She was beautiful.
Justin sniffled, "Um… I'm Justin… Justin Justice. Who… who are you?"
The woman smiled, "My name…"
"Is Jasmine. Jasmine Redd.~"
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brainrot-yumm · 5 months
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tw: third year anniversary of ending one of the worst points in my life uwu so mental health issues SH talk Past thoughts of suicide talk
I'm very not used to people following this account man. Genuinely this is gonna be a very personal ramble I'll be having so be warned. I know since this is online it was always gonna be seen but I'm not used to it. Luckily this didn't happen while my account was peaking or else there'd be a lot more issues than needed.
So! Halloween was my 3 year anniversary of not killing myself, and today (or yesterday as of 4 hours ago) is my 3 year anniversary of going clean from self-harm. It's a bit ironic how I was actually contemplating hurting myself during these days, legitimately not as a relapse thing but because I have some chest acne that's been bothering me and turning them into scabs tends to make them go away faster. I don't count that as self-harm at all since it's not emotionally based on release but more as a weird side effect that I can now do thanks to my self-inflicted high pain tolerance. This anniversary is especially important to me because it's been six years since I planned to die. So now I've spent about as much time suicidal as I've spent recovering. Though it's more like 3 and a half years, so check back next June.
I know it's poor taste to say, but there are a few good things that came from all this mixed in the ocean of terribleness. I genuinely like my scars (how they feel, look, represent). I don't think they make me look better than before but I don't think they retract from my appearance at all. I get tattoos now instead of hurting myself to get the same meaning in a healthier way though. I also love having a high pain tolerance, it gives me more options on how to live my life and keeps me from hurting as much in general. And now that I'm hyper-obsessed with not becoming an abuser like my intrusive thoughts say I will inevitably be, I'm learning a lot about myself and how I function in order to work around and fight against impulses. Uh. And that's all the good things. And I could go on for hours about everything else and the rest is all bad.
I think I'm doing a lot better than I was last year. It's honestly strange. I kind of feel like I'm experiencing my childhood again, because everything's normal now. Middle school and puberty has been associated with being traumatized to me, so now that everything is normal and nobody is hurting me (and it's so fucked up how that tremendously traumatic experience is really just a 7-year event that could have happened to anyone, that I can just stumble upon trauma and will inevitably stumble into pain like that again against my will it's so fucked), it feels like I'm a kid again. A very, very, very, very busy kid. A kid who needs naptime and eats too much candy for Halloween and can still kind of summersault and somehow still has too many expectations for the world. I'm hoping maybe I can reclaim some of the hope I used to have. Normalcy feels nostalgic to me I guess.
But yeah, I'm doing better. I'm always tired, I cry pretty much daily, I have the emotional maturity/understanding of a 12-year-old, and despite having been in the semester for like 11 weeks I still haven't scheduled an appointment with the counseling center, but I got diagnosed with ADHD, I'm having more fun with my fashion than ever, I fully understand and accept myself as trans despite being so cis-passing, and apparently I see myself as worthy enough to ask my splat out. I wasn't able to ask her out on Halloween, mostly cuz I knew she was too busy and didn't wanna burden her further. However we eat lunch together now and if I can get my rizz together I might ask her for dinner. I was not able to see myself as worthy enough for another relationship last year.
I'm happy to be alive. I've always been happy to be alive. It's just that I spent so long not living that I stopped thinking there was a point. And now I'm alive again. It's nice.
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katmoonz · 3 years
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Depression
Pairing: Wolfstar x Fem!Reader
Word count: 3034
Includes: TW suicidal thoughts, depression, mentions of missing meals, crying, fluff, hugs, angst to fluff, comfort
Do not post any of my work anywhere else!!! I’m fine with reblogs but not with people stealing my work. 
Notes: I have depression, this fic is kinda based off of my experience with depression. I wanted more than anything for someone to notice how badly I was struggling and I was in desperate need of a hug. I can’t change the past but I can write down my thoughts, feelings and what I needed at the time.
Thank you @quindolyn for helping me to fix a couple bits and for helping me decide on the ending xx
Depression is completely unpredictable. You might feel on top of the world one minute and suddenly feel miserable the next. You smile around your friends and family hoping that they don’t notice that anything is wrong but deep down you just want someone to notice, to care, to ask you how you are or just hold you while you cry it all out. You want to die yet you can’t bring yourself to do the actions that would end it all because that scares you even more than living.
Lately, you had been feeling very happy. Remus and Sirius were wonderful boyfriends and would do everything they could to make you laugh or smile. Your favourite moments with Remus are the ones where he decides to cuddle with you, there is nothing more relaxing than just resting your head on his chest and listening to the thump of his heart and his steady breaths.
The best moments with Sirius are when he tries to make up his own jokes, most of the jokes he tries to tell aren’t even funny but that somehow makes it funnier when he tells you a bad one-liner whilst in detention. The sweetest thing about Sirius is that when you least expect it he curls up on the bed and sleeps next to you as Padfoot. It’s the sweetest thing ever waking up in Remus’ arms to Padfoot lying across your chest, Remus just watches over the pair of you with a smile upon his face at seeing his two lovers sleeping so peacefully.
This morning you had woken up and felt like crap, you couldn't quite place it so you skipped breakfast and had a lie-in instead. This caused you to miss your first lesson and most of lunch. You managed to go to your next lesson though which was Charms with your boyfriend Remus.
At first, you tried to concentrate but you felt like a cloud had settled itself over your head causing you to struggle with your work.
You’d been feeling better for a while now but for some reason today had just left you feeling miserable. For the rest of class, you sat with your head in your hand gazing out the window.
Remus could tell that you weren’t paying attention to the class and was starting to grow concerned. “y/n, you okay?” He whispers in your ear.
Not wanting to draw any attention to yourself or bother him, you just nod and force a smile in the hopes that you could pretend that everything was fine.
The bell rang a few minutes later signalling the end of the class period. You had History of Magic next, Remus wasn’t in that class with you but Sirius was. Remus walked you to your next class observing your behaviour.
You weren’t smiling and didn’t speak at all on the way there simply looking at the ground. Remus stopped with you at the classroom door and gave you a soft kiss on the cheek. “Are you sure you’re alright love? You know you can talk to me if something is wrong.”
Looking up at him you sigh. “I’m fine,” you say quietly before turning around and walking into the classroom.
Remus was growing very concerned with your behaviour, something was clearly wrong but you weren’t telling him.
Just then Sirius walks down the corridor. “Moony, decided to switch classes have you?” He jokes.
Not wanting anyone to overhear the conversation Remus grabs his arm and pulls him over to an empty classroom shoving him in the door.
“I need a favour,” said Remus in a serious tone.
“What Moons?” replies Sirius, confused at the sudden change in Remus’ behaviour.
“I need you to watch y/n for me and make sure she’s alright. Something is wrong and I want to help her but she won’t tell me anything.” blurts Remus.
Sirius pats him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry Remus, I’ll keep an eye on her.” Sirius leaves the empty room and proceeds to walk into the History of Magic classroom.
Sirius seats himself beside you but you don’t notice at first because you are spaced out not paying any attention to the lecture being given by Binns.
You felt like crap to put it simply. You wanted to focus on your classes so badly but your brain was just telling you no.
Your brain is running at a hundred miles an hour making you feel even worse. *I’m going to fail all of my classes. Why am I so useless? Do the boys love me or do they just tolerate me? Nobody loves me, not really. I wish I was dead, why can’t I just die?*
You feel slow tears make their way down your face. You sniffle softly not wanting to bother anyone.
Sirius quickly notices your tears as you sniffle next to him. *Moony is right* thought Sirius *something is very wrong.*
Sirius reaches a hand out to yours underneath the desk and gives it a gentle squeeze as a reminder that he is there for you.
Finally, you have enough of your self-deprecating thoughts and abruptly stand up, grab your things and leave despite only having twenty minutes of class left. Sirius gets up and follows you, grabbing your hand as you leave the room.
The pair of you walk silently through the castle until you get back to the Gryffindor common room. Sirius seats you at the couch in front of the fire before grabbing your bag and chucking it aside.
Sirius sits down next to you as you stare into the ornate fireplace with tears still slowly rolling down your face. “Y/n love, what’s wrong?” He softly asks.
Instead of answering him, you rest your head on his shoulder. Sirius brings his arms around you to pull you into a hug. The pair of you sit like that for a while, listening to the crackle of the fire and your sorrowful sniffles. Sirius simply holds you whilst tears slowly roll down your face.
“I'm sorry, I’m just tired. I think I’m gonna go have a nap” you say softly.
“Alright doll, I’ll see you at dinner then?” He asks.
“Yeah, I’ll be there,” you tell him knowing full well that you wouldn’t be in the mood to eat.
Leaving Sirius in the common room you walk up to the boys dorm and throw yourself down on Remus' bed. Grabbing a discarded sweater from Sirius’ bed on the way. You curl up in a ball under the covers on Remus’ bed before letting the tears fall down your face again *why can’t I just feel happy for once in my life? I always fuck everything up, I want to die*
Sirius watches you walk up the stairs to the boys dorm before letting out a sigh and putting his head in his hands. You had never been like this, you were usually so bright and cheerful something bad must have happened because Sirius hadn’t seen even the slightest smile all day.
The bell for the next lesson rings and Sirius remains sitting on the sofa in the common room contemplating what he should tell Remus. He didn’t want to make his friend even more alarmed but he couldn’t hide his feeling of concern for your breakdown in class.
Remus enters the common room behind a babble of second years who were complaining to each other about their homework.
Spotting Sirius on the sofa before the fire he rushes over to sit next to him.
“Where’s y/n? Is she alright?”
Sirius takes a deep breath before sitting back on the sofa. “No, I can see what you mean Rem, she’s very upset.”
“What do you mean?” replies a panicked Remus
Sirius turns to face him and puts a hand on his shoulder. “Look mate I don’t want to worry you but in class, she just sat and stared into space, then she started crying and walked out.”
Remus let out a pained sigh and ran his hands down his face before clasping them in his lap. “Is she okay? where is she now?”
“I walked her back here, we had a cuddle for a while then she said that she was just tired so she left to have a nap,” replies Sirius
Remus stands up from the sofa and brushes his sweaty palms off of his trousers, “let's go and check on her.”
Sirius rises off of the sofa too, he turns around and looks around the common room before turning back to Remus. “Maybe she just needs space, she told me she’d come down to dinner so let's just give her some time alone and if she doesn't come to dinner then we can go and check on her.”
Staring into Sirius’ stormy grey irises Remus stays standing for another minute before nodding and sitting back down.
The boys study in the common room for an hour in complete silence, both of them preoccupied with thoughts of their distressed girlfriend. Sirius and Remus then head down to dinner, sitting down at the end of the Gryffindor table closest to the doors so that they could spot you as soon as you walked in.
The boys sit and pick at their food mindlessly for ten minutes continuously watching the door in hope that you’d join them for the meal.
Sirius lets out a deep sigh and drops his fork on his plate rubbing his brow before looking at Remus. Remus looks up at him offering a small smile before standing up. “Come on Pads, our girl needs us”
Sirius quickly stands up and grabs Remus’ hand dragging him out of the great hall. The boys briskly walk hand in hand back to the Gryffindor common room and quickly ascend the stairs to the dorm.
Remus opens the door quietly in case you are sleeping and peers in, he feels his heart break as he catches sight of you. You are lying in his bed fast asleep with puffy eyes from crying.
Remus approaches the bed and sits down on the side closest to you. Gently he starts to stroke your face with his hand whilst gesturing for Sirius to come over to the bed with his other hand. Sirius kneels on the bed next to Remus, reaches out and starts playing with your hair.
Remus watches as you slowly awaken, your eyes fluttering as they adjust to the light in the room. “Darling are you alright?” He asks you softly while rubbing his thumb over your cheek.
You feel your eyes fill with tears but don’t want the boys to see them so you roll over and put your face in the pillow hoping that they leave you alone so that you can compose yourself again.
The boys look at each other trying to figure out what to do next. Remus nods at Sirius gesturing for him to try and get a response from you.
“Baby, why didn’t you come to dinner?” You still don’t respond, making Sirius panic. “Please talk to us, we want to help you.” This makes you feel even worse, they just wanted you to be happy but instead, you’d caused them to leave dinner to look for you.
Your body starts to shake as the tears start rolling down your face. You keep the sobs in not wanting to make them even more worried.
Remus carefully runs a hand over your back worried at the lack of response. “Y/n please talk to us, we love you baby we only want to help you. It’s killing me that you are this upset and we want to be here for you.”
This is the last straw and you lose control of your crying, finally letting out the sobs that had been building up all day.
Remus’ heart breaks even more “Oh baby, come here”. Remus turns you over and carefully pulls you into his lap.
You press your head into Remus’ neck and let out all of the emotion that had been held within you all day.
Sirius sits down next to Remus and yourself at the head of the bed, he runs one hand soothingly up and down your back. “It’s okay baby, it’s okay.”
Your entire body shakes with sobs, tears soak the front of Remus’ sweater whilst the boys continue to make attempts to console you.
Remus rocks you in his arms carefully trying to calm you down. “Shh darlin’ it’s okay”
You start hyperventilating from the force of your sobs, Remus pulls you back from his chest slightly brushing hair away from your face.
Sirius reaches out to you and picks up one of your hands, he brings it up to his chest so that you can feel his steady heartbeat. “I know you're upset baby but you’ve got to breathe. Can you do that for me?”
Sirius breathes in and out slowly emphasising each breath for you to follow. “In...and out, in…and out.” This continues for a few minutes as you try to regulate your breathing.
“Good girl, you’re doing such a good job baby”
The sobs slow down slightly as you regain control over your breathing, tears still fall down your face but not as quickly as before.
Remus cups your face in his hand wiping away stray tears with his thumb before pressing a solitary kiss to your temple. “Y/n, what’s wrong? Please tell us” he begs.
You let out a sigh, opening and shutting your mouth a few times trying to come up with something to tell them.
Sirius notices your hesitation and gives you a reassuring smile. “It’s okay love, you can tell us anything. I promise you that we’ll try to help you and nothing you say can make us love you any less.”
Looking into his eyes you see nothing but love and concern. You sniffle and wipe one of your sleeves across your face. “I don’t know, I just don’t feel good”
Sirius runs a hand through your hair before giving you a sympathetic smile. “Is it that time of the month baby? You feelin’ sick?”
Tears well up in your eyes again. “No” you reply softly “I don’t feel sick”
“Then what is it babe?” asks Sirius with a small frown on his face.
You consider lying to them for a moment not wanting to burden them with your thoughts and emotions but in the end, it’s the pleading expression upon Remus’ face that makes you give in.
You take a deep breath, “sometimes I just feel really sad, like nothing will get better. I feel like no one loves me. I don't want to bother you guys because I don’t want you to leave me.”
The tears fall down your face again as you turn around and put your face back into Remus’ sweater, your fingers have a firm grasp on him as if letting go would make him disappear.
“Please, please don’t leave me, I’m sorry” you beg them as you cry into Remus’ chest.
Remus feels tears well up in his own eyes but swallows them down in order to comfort you. “No no no, sweetheart, it's okay. I promise that we aren’t leaving you.”
Remus holds you even tighter in his arms “I wish you’d told us that you were feeling like this sooner darling. We love you so much”
Sirius sits in silence listening to Remus comfort you before lifting a hand and rubbing your back. “Look at me baby,” he says with a stern tone.
You look up at him, he has a more pronounced frown upon his face than what was there previously but it softens slightly when he realises that you are watching him.
“You need to tell us when you feel like this okay? You aren’t bothering anyone, we just want to help you and we would never leave you over something like this.”
You remain silent looking away from him, the tears slowing down again so all that remains are the odd couple every few seconds.
“Promise you’ll tell us when you feel like this baby?” He asks, holding your face in his hands.
You sniffle softly before agreeing “m’kay, I promise”
“Good girl, you’re such a good girl for telling us baby,” he says fondly before placing a soft kiss on your cheek. As he pulls away from your cheek he gets a mischievous look upon his face. “Hey babe, what do you call a cow with two legs?”
You look at him confused for a minute before saying “I dunno”
He leans in towards you with a grin upon his face as though he is telling you a secret “Lean beef”
This causes you to giggle, Sirius smirks whilst Remus chuckles. The boys are pleased to hear you laugh after having been deprived of such beautiful sounds for an entire day.
“Good one wasn’t it?” He asks with a cocky smirk on his face.
“No” you reply, still slightly giggling.
“No!” He repeats back to you in disbelief. “What do you mean no? I thought it was a good one”
Remus raises an eyebrow looking at Sirius “c’mon Pads, you can do better than that”
“Fine, I’ve got a better one” huffs Sirius. “What does the perverted frog say?”
“I dunno” you reply again trying to keep a straight face.
“Rubbit” he replies.
This joke was much funnier than the last and you burst out in laughter. You have joyous tears of laughter pouring down your face as you giggle until your sides hurt.
After a while you yawn and rub your eyes, Remus smiles affectionately at you before moving you off of his lap changing positions so that you are laying half on Remus’ chest with Sirius spooning you from behind.
“C’mon darling, let's get some sleep,” he says quietly.
Sirius buries his face in the back of your neck before mumbling out a quick “I love you”
You settle down into their embrace, relaxing all of your muscles and just as you are dozing off to sleep you feel Remus run his hand through your hair as he whispers “I love you darling, more than you will ever know.”
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defectivehero · 3 years
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Hellooo, love your writing 💕 I was wondering if you could write something about a villain taking care of a depressed hero (or it can be the other way around!)?
hey thanks!!  i’m gonna do it the other way around- i hope you don’t mind!
tw: depression, suicidal thoughts, swearing, all that jazz ;(
Alex hadn’t been outside in a whole week.  An ordinary person would be a bit concerned, perhaps putting it down as a sudden illness or a death in the family.  But, no.  Alex wasn’t sick.  Alex wasn't grieving over the loss of a family member.
He looked up what he was feeling on Google, and got a wide variety of results.  Suggestions for how to handle heartbreak, getting over the loss of a loved one, a survey about depression... Alex stopped reading after that.
He had been sitting on the couch, staring blankly at the wall, when a loud buzzing sound made him look down at his phone.  He rolled his eyes when he saw who was calling him.  Cameron.  Ugh.
Alex and Cameron had a quite complicated relationship, that was for sure.  They were mortal enemies, or, at least, they were supposed to be.  Alex was a villain, and Cameron was a hero.  So why was Cameron calling him?
The phone continued ringing, and Alex clenched his teeth in annoyance.  He pressed the ‘decline call’ button, then threw his phone onto the coffee table in front of the couch.   The phone landed with a slam, nearly cracking the glass.  He probably broke his phone, and yet, he couldn’t even find the energy to care. Tears streamed down his face, glistening against his tanned skin.
Everything felt like a chore- eating, brushing his teeth... Even getting out of bed was a challenge.  More often than not, Alex would spend the day laying under his covers, holding back tears.  It was quite a crushing feeling, to be completely honest.  He had never felt so weak.  It had gotten to the point where he hadn’t done any sort of villain work in weeks.   It’s not like you were going to succeed anyways, a small voice in the back of his head said.    His laptop was sitting on his nightstand, untouched from when he last set it down a month ago.  He couldn’t help but think of that laptop as some sort of barrier- a constant reminder of his failure to truly accomplish anything.  It was just barely within reach, so close and yet so far. Every time he thought of reaching out for it, he just couldn’t.  His body wouldn’t let him.  His mind wouldn't let him.
He heard a strange rapping-like noise, and glanced at the front door.  There didn't seem to be anyone there.  He looked down at his hands.  What was he doing?  Why was he here?  Another rapping noise.  He ignored it, shaking his head.  Probably just the rain.  
A couple seconds later, his front door burst open, and a cold draft flew through the house.  “C-Cameron?” Alex whispered, shock evident in his voice.  “Did you break in-”
“I just used your key,” Cameron grinned, holding up the key that Alex kept hidden on the front porch.  The blond ran a hand through his wet hair, wiping his shoes against the carpet in the entryway before walking in.  Alex followed the man’s gaze, his heart dropping to his stomach.  
His apartment looked like shit.  There were clothes everywhere- draped over the couch, piled on the floor... A pile of dirty dishes was balanced precariously in the stainless steel sink.  There were papers scattered all over the table.  
“Wait, it’s not-”
The hero looked at him, then scanned the room.  Alex felt a pit of shame setting in the bottom of his stomach.  Was Cameron here to gloat?  Was that what he wanted?  After all, they were always trying to one-up each other.  Alex felt his eyes burning, and rubbed at them roughly, willing for the tears to stop streaming down his face.
“Go away,” Alex muttered.  Cameron completely ignored him, continuing to amble around the room.  Alex sighed, sitting back down on the couch and putting his head in his hands. He had never felt so embarrassed.  
Alex wasn’t sure how long he sat there, closing his eyes and willing his mortification to go away.  It could’ve been minutes, it could’ve been hours...
A tap on his shoulder made him jolt, whipping his head up and subsequently nearly head-butting Cameron.  “S-sorry,” he muttered, getting up dizzily. He stumbled a bit, and Cameron reached his hand out to steady him.   Once he steadied himself, he looked at the room around him and gasped.
The entire room was clean.  All the dishes were gone, the clothes neatly folded in the corner, and all the other clutter was nowhere to be found.  Alex felt a warm feeling spread to his chest.  “I... Thank you,” Alex whispered, bringing a hand to his face in shock.  
“No problem,” the blond smiled sweetly.  “Now, how about some dinner?”
Alex found himself sitting down at his dining table an hour later, a steaming bowl of pasta in front of him.  He glanced up at Cameron, who was sitting across from him.  The blond nodded, and started eating.  Alex had a bite, skeptical about Cameron’s cooking skills.  But, he was pleasantly surprised.  The pasta was quite good.
“So..” Cameron started hesitantly, waving his fork around.  Alex glared at him.  “You know what I’m going to ask,” he continued.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” “You need to,” the blond argued, shaking his head in exasperation.  “I’m the perfect person to talk to.” 
Alex snorted, rolling his eyes.  “And why is that, may I ask?” he quipped.
“I’m a therapist, duh.”
“Oh.”
“I’m fairly decent, as I’ve been told,” Cameron mentioned nonchalantly, poking his fork into his pasta.  Alex sighed, grabbing his water glass chugging it.
“If you tell me, I won’t bother you about it again,” Cameron offered, raising his hands in mock surrender.  Alex sighed.  He really wouldn’t be able to get out of this, would he?
“Alright, fine,” he groaned, averting his eyes.  “Let’s get this over with.”
“Okay, so tell me,” Cameron started, putting his folded hands under his chin in contemplation, “when did all this start?”
“A couple weeks ago,” Alex replied, thinking back.  
Cameron nodded, “How have you been feeling, exactly?” Alex sighed.  Exactly how did he get himself into this situation?   Oh right, his mortal enemy/friend broke into his apartment, went on a cleaning spree, and then somehow managed to cook dinner with the zero ingredients in his pantry.
“Fine.” Cameron gave him a death glare, and he felt himself start to sweat.  “Alright, alright.  I just feel empty, I guess,” Alex sighed.  “I don’t know, I just don’t feel like myself. I’m really tired, and I can’t find the motivation to do anything?” he met Cameron’s eyes.
Cameron stared at him for a second, studying his face.  “Have you been struggling to sleep lately? Struggling to find pleasure in activities that you normally enjoy to do? Poor appetite? Feelings of hopelessness?”
Alex dropped his fork with a clang, jaw falling open.  How did Cameron know?  He had been experiencing all of those things!  He nodded briefly, not able to find the words he wanted to say.
“Any thoughts of wanting to harm yourself, or thinking you would be better off dead?” Cameron asked, and Alex felt his eyes begin to burn again.  He blinked rapidly.  He really didn’t want to cry in front of Cameron.
“Yeah,” Alex whispered, clenching his fists in his lap.  His lip quivered, and he felt incredibly embarrassed.  He looked over at Cameron, who had a dejected expression on his face.  That only made him feel worse.  He was an expert at fucking things up, wasn’t he?
“Alex, you have depression,” Cameron mentioned, clear voice cutting through the air.  
“No, I don’t,” Alex immediately replied, adrenaline coursing through him. “No way,”
“’Lex, there’s nothing to be ashamed of,”
“Of course not!” Alex exclaimed, breathing hard.  “Of course you wouldn’t care!  Perfect Cameron, such the perfect hero!” he hissed, hands trembling.  “Taking pity on those below him, how kind of him,”
“Are you done yet?” Cameron asked, completely unfazed by his sudden outburst.  
Alex blushed, remembering himself. “Yeah, I am,” he confessed, looking down at his feet in embarrassment.  He was still in shock.  There was a name for what he was feeling?  He wasn’t sick, broken...?
“I think you should start seeing a therapist,” Cameron declared, breaking the silence.  Alex was, admittedly, not opposed to the idea.  He’d try almost anything, at this point.
“Here,” Cameron said, shoving the piece of paper into his hand.  “I wrote down the name for our offices.  Call the number here, it should bring you to our receptionist. They’ll set an appointment up for you,” he continued.  
“Now, I’ll make sure to get you a different therapist,” the blonde mentioned offhandedly, “because I can’t be yours- I’m probably the reason you’re going to therapy anyways,” 
 Alex whipped his head up.  What?  “No, you’re not,” Alex denied adamantly.  For whatever reason, he felt the need to reassure Cameron that it wasn’t his fault.  Why?  He had no idea.  Cameron raised his eyebrows, looking at Alex as if he hadn’t expected him to say anything.  An awkward silence befell the room.
Cameron looked away, leaning back into his chair and looking at the ceiling.  Alex watched him close his eyes, as if in deep thought.  He took a sharp breath, watching the blond’s Adam’s apple bob up and down.  Cameron’s thin, defined collarbones peeked out from the collar of his shirt.  Alex bit his lip unconsciously.
“What’s wrong?” Cameron asked, blinking his eyes open.  Alex swore he saw the hero’s eyes flit down to his lips for a brief second, but when he looked at the blond again, he was looking at the ground.  
Alex shook his head.  “Oh, uh, nothing,” he huffed.
“Hm, okay,” the hero replied, clearly not buying his excuse.  “Anyways, I better get going,” he said, grimacing as if he didn’t want to leave.  Alex raised an eyebrow at that.  Wouldn’t he be happy to leave?  He doubted anyone would want to spend time with him in this state.  He dragged his shoes along the floor, hands tightening on arms of the chair he was sitting in.
Cameron put a hand on his shoulder, pressing his lips together in a hesitant smile.  “Call me if you need me, okay?” he said.  Alex nodded, meeting his eyes.  Cameron nodded at that, thoughtful gray eyes scanning his face as if in search of something.  Alex felt his cheeks darken, as Cameron’s face was only inches from his.  The blond had a conflicted expression on his face, as if he was debating whether he should do something or not.  Eventually, Alex felt Cameron’s arms wrap around him, pulling him into a hug.  The pair stayed there for a bit, clutching onto each other. 
Alex pulled away.  “You better get going, Cameron.  It’s late,” he whispered, secretly wishing he could stay.
“Alright,” the blond replied.  “Good night, Alex,” he mumbled, walking towards the door.
“Good night.”
Alex watched him leave, smiling to himself.  He looked down at the piece of paper in his hand. Maybe he really would be okay.
137 notes · View notes
springday-aus · 3 years
Text
Enemies to Lovers!AU with Xiaojun
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Group: NCT [+ WayV]
Member: Xiaojun / Xiao Dejun
Genre: fluff, comedy, romance 
Type: Bulletpoint AU 
Word Count: approx. 2.4k
so, you’re Xiaojun’s enemy (he thinks of it more of his number one attacker tho)
it wasn’t hard considering he’s always on fight or flight mode and considering his friend group….
fight mode is always activated
(ง’̀-‘́)ง
so it started when you became friends with Ten
the guy is so sociable, so you were bound to meet him and his other friends someday
but jesus christ, there were soooo many of them
it was a party; he threw a literal party of just him and his friends
and then there were others who turned it into a rave (i.e. Hendery, Yangyang, Chenle and Donghyuk)
anyways, you got to mingle and make so many new friends
it was going really well
until Xiaojun entered the picture
things went well with him too, until you made a joke that didn’t exactly land with him
but it landed well with the others
Lucas: “who in their right mind would like mint chocolate”
Xiaojun: “but I like mint chocolate”
You: “then you’re not in your right mind lmao”
YangYang: “I mean, is Xiaojun ever in his right mind tho”
everyone laughs
except for one person
Xiaojun stood up, staring you down for a hot second, before trying to argue back
in which YangYang was the main responder
you didn’t really think much of it, laughing away with the others
but, to him, you just declared war that day
it shouldn’t have bothered him as much as it did
but it did
so, from then on, things just got rockier
bc he started picking fights with you over the littlest things or he would argue with your points no matter what
you didn’t really think much of it bc he was also being picked on everyone else and you were like
every man for themselves huh
it wasn’t until he personally attacked you
it happened on Halloween
and he made an underhanded comment about how he’d look better in anything compared to you
so you made a “friendly” bet
but then you lost
bc Xiaojun looked better in the Jasmine costume than you and he def knew it too
and when he smirked at you
the grudge had been built
that’s probably when the mutual enemy status circulated around your friends
although, if they’re being honest, it’s so entertaining
especially since most of them like to gang up on Xiaojun too
and because of that unity, it’s only made things worse
from what the others can tell
you two don’t hate each other, but you def don’t get along
it ranges to food (e.g. mint chocolate chip incident that NO ONE lets go)
Lucas: “mint choco ain’t shit”
You: “retweet”
Xiaojun: “the attacks”
YangYang: “we cannot trust a man who eats bread with fucking lao gan ma”
You: “you eat what with bread?”
Xiaojun: “shut up. all of you.”
to activities
cue you two fighting about what movie to watch
Xiaojun: “Titanic is a classic!!!”
You: “it’s a joke, there was rOOM ON THE FUCKING DOOR”
Xiaojun: “IT’S ROMANTIC. HE SACRIFICED HIMSELF SO SHE CAN LIVE.”
You: “THAT’S NOT ROMANTIC. THAT’S SUICIDAL, DUMBASS.”
this feud is def bc you’re both petty as fuck
the bickering is nonstop
but, if the nct boys are being honest
they’re lowkey confused bc Xiaojun is supposed to have a really high emotional tolerance
he doesn’t even yell this much at YangYang or Ten
(excluding that one time he hit YangYang with that pillow very hard)
but he does blow off his top when it comes to you
which is sus to a lot of the boys
whenever someone does ask him tho
he just kind of……………
mumbles underneath his breath and then moves onto something else
meanwhile, Yuta: “isn’t he always like that?”
Kun: “who wants to tell him”
lmao, I’m kidding
kind of
anyways, you two are really just going at it
what changes?
you have to go to the dentist and get your molars removed
which means someone has to take you and go pick you up
obviously, Ten was going to do that, considering you two were the closest
so he dropped you off and you had your surgery
so what happened?
welp, your buddy Ten forgot he had a prior engagement and, hence, was unable to pick you up
cue him spamming the groupchat
and Lucas exposing Xiaojun
Lucas: Xiaojun isn’t doing anything Xiaojun: you don’t know that Lucas: I do tho, go pick up (Y/N) Ten: I’ll buy you anything from that green tea cafe you like for a week Xiaojun: deal.
so he came to pick you up, both willingly and unwillingly
and you……. you were more than a hot mess 
you were just a mess 
you basically were just blacked out that entire time after they gave you the laughing gas and completed the surgery
so you remembered absolutely nothing.
your roommate: “this is what you get for doing drugs”
You: “IT WAS PURELY FOR MEDICINAL USE”
You: “IT’S NOT LIKE I DID CRACK”
either way, your roommate let you know of the situation, taking note of how your enemy had to take you home
which
again
no recollection
your roommate: “he’s fucking hot tho”
You: “ugh, I know”
but that’s also when you decided
Ten is a dead man :)
Ten: “I’M SORRY”
You: “YOU BETTER FUCKING BE”
Ten: “I KNOW”
Ten: “............................................but………………………………….”
Ten: “maybeyoushouldalsothankhimfortakingcareofyou”
You: “sorry not sorry, I’m contemplating murder rn”
Hendery: “what do you call a murder against a friend?”
Kun: “don’t”
Ten:
You:
Hendery: “it’s a homie-cide”
You and Ten: “NOT NOW”
anyways
you knew he was right
so after you calmed down, you went to Xiaojun’s place (thanks to Ten), with some sweets to thank him
Lucas opened the door, let you in, and left to go to the gym with Sicheng
Xiaojun came out of his room, a couple of minutes after, disheveled from his nap
and when he saw you in his living room couch, his eyes widened, darting around to avoid looking at you
You: “hi”
Xiaojun: “hello”
You: “why do you look so scared? I’m not gonna jump you”
he stays quiet, the blush becoming more apparent on his cheeks
You: “Ten told me you took me home after my surgery, so…………………… thanks”
Xiaojun: “he bribed me with pastries”
You: yeah, sounds about right
You: “still”
You: “um, I didn’t know what you would like, so I brought some sweets you can just go through”
Xiaojun: “thanks”
it’s silent for another moment and you consider bolting out from the apartment, Wizards of Waverly Place, Harper-style: “see ya in p.e.!” kind of a thing
but he speaks up once more
Xiaojun: “are you feeling okay now?”
You: “uh, yeah, my jaw still kind of hurts”
You: “but I have meds they prescribed to me for the next month or so”
he decides to stop beating the bush: 
Xiaojun: “so do you remember what happened yesterday?”
You: “to be completely honest, no”
Xiaojun: “you… did a lot of things”
You: “what do you mean I did a lot of things”
Xiaojun: “you also said a lot of things too”
You: “..... are these things recorded?”
Xiaojun: “maybe”
Xiaojun: “some”
You: “dELETET HEM”
you actually considered tackling him, but deemed as too Yang-Yang-like
You: “what did I say”
Xiaojun: “I didn’t realize you thought I was handsome”
You: “wait what?”
Xiaojun: “you said, you had a crush on my ‘fine ass’”
You: “you know what? I think I’m gonna pull a Jack and commit suicide, goodbye”
Xiaojun: “ah, ah, ah, you said like, which is… present tense”
You: “semantics”
Xiaojun: “but did you like me at some point?”
You: “does it matter?”
Xiaojun: “yeah, it kind of does”
Xiaojun: “bc even tho we bicker, it’s, like, our thing”
Xiaojun: “plus, you’re kind of cute when you’re threatening to rip off my eyebrows”
You: “I did what?”
Xiaojun: “it’s no different from how you treat me now”
You: “I thought it’s because you don’t like me”
he just kind of shrugs, rubbing his neck rather sheepishly
Xiaojun: “you’ve seen my friends; arguing is our way of showing our affections”
You: “so, you’re saying this is your way of telling me you like me?”
Xiaojun: “I mean………“
Xiaojun: “are you saying you like me?”
You: “are you saying you like me?” 
*cue another argument about who likes who*
eventually, he found a way to shut you up
( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
cut to Lucas and Sicheng coming back from the gym to you and Xiaojun making out on the couch
Lucas: “NASTY”
Sicheng: “what did we…. miss?”
Ten somewhere: I fucking called it.
anyways
you both decided to date that day
and you two still bicker an insane amount, which includes you nitpicking Xiaojun’s tastes to Xiaojun refusing to delete those videos of you under the laughing gas despite your threats
but, the only difference is, your arguments can end with a kiss
and it always freaks out the guys whenever you do
Donghyuk: “I’m too young to be seeing this monstrosity”
Mark: “ngl, this is nice for them—they’ve stopped arguing”
YangYang: “I weirdly prefer them arguing over them with those sappy eyes tho”
You: “we can hear you”
Chenle: “but when have we ever cared?”
You: “I’m gonna beat your ‘01 liner ass istg—”
Xiaojun: “calm”
oh, you know what’s fun about your relationship?
you two can’t agree on some stuff right?
so whenever you have to decide something, say a movie or dinner, you two just heads-or-tails it
(there’s also this cute app where you put your options on a wheel and let that decide—the amount of times you’ve used that on your dates…… anyways)
most of the time, on these dates, you seem more like an old married couple and it’s super cute
it’s bc you’re already used to your worse sides coming out—the really petty ones, the screaming ones, the ugly ones
ofc these aren’t from serious arguments that occur
(remember folks, it isn’t healthy for you and your partner to always be fighting)
but when serious arguments do occur, you both take time to sit down and talk face-to-face
it’s hard to get into actual arguments with him, especially since he really is understanding and tries to pay attention to the smaller details
Xiaojun: “I like learning more about you”
You: “you can’t just say that kind of shit to me”
like, yeah, he’ll debate with you all night about why he needs to read the words of his book out loud but, by the end of the day, you’ll lay your head in his lap and listen to his voice as you fall asleep
speaking of which, you love listening to him sing to you
he gets a bit embarrassed sometimes about it, but seeing you smile so brightly at him makes him forget about it
because even tho you two bicker about little things, in the end, it just makes you two laugh at one another and how ridiculous you’re being
I almost forgot, so Ten thinks of him pairing you two off right?
so, whenever he does something annoying to either of you, he’ll constantly bring it up
Ten: “I guess this is how you two treat me, your personal cupid—”
Xiaojun: “yes, yes, we are grateful for you”
You: “but it would be nice if you would stop making those annoying sounds”
Ten: “what annoying sounds?”
YangYang: “that’s just you talking”
okay, no, but yeah—the nct boys are glad this rivalry is over because it was really just…. stupid to the core
but also bc you two look super sweet together and seeing you two making each other happy rather than annoyed is adorable
but just bc you two got together doesn’t mean the pettiness isn’t still there
You: “what type of freak sleeps with their eyes opened?”
Xiaojun: “I’m sleeping next to you, of course I need to keep both eyes open”
You: “RUDE”
Xiaojun: “and yet here we are”
You: “son of a bitch”
Xiaojun: “YOUR son of a bitch”
You: “eh, I’ll take it” 
60 notes · View notes
bad268 · 4 years
Text
Together (TMR Newt X Reader)
Fandom: The Maze Runner
Requested: Nope
Warnings: Glade slang, attempted suicide, mini angst
Word Count: 2177
Summary: Newt and the reader face the struggles of the trials together.
My requests and ships are OPEN
MASTERLIST // HITLIST
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~~(^Pinterest)
As the only girl in a group of boys stuck in a maze, my life is pretty hectic. First off, I arrived with Alby. He and I built this place from the ground up, and I’d say we did a shucking good job at it. Now, we run the Glade with Newt, my boyfriend's help. He's second in command while Alby and I are co-leaders. Every time a greenie shows up in the box, Newt and I have to put them in their place and show those shanks who’s in charge.
“Supply day is tomorrow, love. You know what that means,” Newt says as he walks up behind me in the map room. His arms slip around my waist as he hugs me and kisses me below my ear.
“New greenie to question me,” I sigh. “Come on, I gotta check with Gally on his ‘projects.’ Meet me at the Deadheads in like 20?” I turned around to face him before putting my hands on the nape of his neck and kissing his jawline.
“Alright. I’m gonna be in the kitchen getting food from Frypan,” He said as he put his face in my neck while he held me tighter. 
“Save me something. I haven’t eaten since my last run day.”
“(Y/N) that was almost three days ago! You should be the one eating while I talk to Gally.”
“Something tells me you’re not talking to him,” Minho jokes once he walked into the map room. “Don’t you two need to be setting up for the greenie?”
“Maybe if you took care of yourself, I wouldn’t need to watch you,” Newt snaps.
“Maybe if you went to Fry already, this conversation shouldn't have started,” I snapped back. At this point, Newt is by Minho and the maps, and I stand by the door.
“Maybe if I hadn’t saved you from trying to kill yourself, we wouldn't have made the mistake of getting together!” He yelled.
~~
There were only 10 of us in here total. It was before we were there for a full year.
“Alby, who would lock us in a place like this? I don’t like being closed in like this.” Alby and I were walking passed the doors after dinner and the doors were going to close soon.
“If you wanna leave so much, go try the maze. If the runners can’t find a way out, what makes you think you could?” He threw at me. I looked at the doors and contemplated running in before they started closing. Unfortunately, they closed before I decided. I walked towards the hammocks since Newt is technically still healing from his ‘accident.’
“Hey, Newt. how’s your leg?”
“Fine. Alby thinks I’ll be able to work in the gardens tomorrow. How was your day?”
“Normal, I guess. Alby said I could run tomorrow.”
“Why? You were never interested in being a runner. You wanted to be and are a builder.”
“I asked if I could try it for a day.”
The next morning, I got up earlier than the rest, even before Minho. I went over and waited by the South doors until they opened. Once they did, I ran in and started grabbing at the vines on the wall before pulling myself up.
“(Y/N)!” I heard Newt, Alby and Minho yelled for me. I just hoisted myself higher. Newt rounded the corner and looked up at the vines that were moving and made eye contact with me. “(Y/N/N), please. Don’t do it. It’ll get better, love, I promise.”
“You can’t promise that, Newt. You did this same thing like a month ago.” I adjusted my slipping grip. “Newt, there’s no coming back from this. Why should I come down safely? I’ll still be stuck in here because the creators are full of klunk.”
“If you come down, I’ll help you. I’m not the best, but we can work together. Please, I can’t lose you.” I thought about his offer but before I could attempt to slowly climb down the vines, the ropes snapped, sending me falling. 
I woke up later that day in the med hut with my left leg wrapped like Newt’s, and Newt holding my hand with his head laying on my arm. He must have felt me shift because his head shot up immediately.
“Please don’t scare me like that again. I love you, (Y/N).”
~~
“If being with me causes you so much pain, then we’re done. Bye, Newt. I need to talk with Gally,” I rasped, tears fresh in my eyes from the memory. I turned around without letting him respond and limped out of the map room and towards the builders.
After my talk with Gally, it was near lunchtime, so I decided to go for a fun-run while the runners were having their meals. Running always cleared my mind, and I need to blow off some steam from our argument. About 20 minutes into my run, I saw Minho sitting by the cliff.
“Penny for your thoughts.” I sat next to him before taking a drink from his water.
“Three years we’ve been here. When will we find our way out?”
“Well as long as we have runners like you who will find a way, we’ll get there. Maybe not immediately, but eventually.”
~
The next day, I looked around my small treehouse I made when I first came here. It was much colder than I remember, but Newt wasn’t here. I changed into one of Newt’s shirts that went down to my lower thighs before tying my jacket around my waist. I was going to be with the greenie and Newt all day. As I was climbing down the ladder, the sound of the box rang through the Glade. I dropped down and walked towards the kitchen to grab an apple since it takes a while for the box to actually open.  When I got to the kitchen, Frypan was talking with a red-eyed Newt. Their conversation stopped once I closed the door.
“Hey, guys. I just came for an apple, and I’ll let you carry on.”  I proceeded over to the pantry and tried to reach one of the fruits. I heard the boys murmuring before one of them left since one of the main doors opened and closed. Not long after, Newt was entering the pantry holding a plate.
“I’m sorry for everything, (Y/N/N). I’m just worried about you, and I can’t live without you. Can you please forgive me or at least eat something other than an apple?” He had tears in his eyes as he gazed into my (E/C) eyes.
“I will only forgive you because you have food, and I miss you. Just know I am still slightly mad at you for wishing we were never together, but you’ll just have to make it up to me.” We sat at the table and both shared the pancakes Fry made as well as eggs and sausage. “Come, we have a greenie to meet.”
“Gally, pull him out,” Newt said once the box was open. The boy looked up at us confused. 
Gally jumped into the box before saying, “rise and shine, greenie.” We pulled him out and he stood there looking around. I looked towards Newt before silently counting down until the greenie took off. Just as I predicted, he sprinted to the Maze doors, but he didn’t last long since he tripped.
“Alright, greenie. I’m (Y/N). I’m the co-leader. This is the second in command.” I grabbed his arm while lifting him out of the dirt.
“The name’s Newt, greenie.”
“Why do you keep calling me ‘Greenie’? Where am I? Why can’t I remember anything?” 
“All newbies are greenies. We call this the Glade. That’s because of the creators. They put us here. Anything else?” I said as we led him towards the hammocks. 
“When will I know my name?”
“It’ll come back in a day or two. Shuck, Alby told me you couldn’t remember your name for a week, (Y/N/N)!” Newt laughed, pointing at me.
“I will kill him.”
“No harming another glader,” Chuck said from his hammock.
“Chuck, you should be working,” Newt said. “Here. You two get acquainted. Your bunk is next to Chuck’s.”   
“Tonight there’s gonna be a bonfire. It’s just some fun where we fight around the fire and drink Gally’s mix. We’ll see you there. Chuck, you wanna tell him the jobs?” I said to which Chuck nodded spastically. I tilted my head before bidding my leave to the two newbies and walking to the map room with Newt.
~
After dinner and after the doors closed, we started a large fire in the center, and Gally already challenged Ben to a flight. I was sitting on a log off to the side of the main events, and I had an easy view of the fights. Newt sat next to me while handing me a jar of Gally’s concoction.
“Thanks, Newt.”
“Don’t mention it, love. Who’s gonna win?”
“Gally. Is that even a question? Gally always wins. I’d pay to see greenie go against him.”
“What about me?”
“Gally! Take on the green bean!” This led to Gally and the greenie dancing around the fire before Gally pushed him down. “I said take him on not kill the kid.”
The greenie was mumbling something before he jumped up, looking around. “My name is Thomas!”
~
Right now, I was hiding in my treehouse having a slight panic attack. Alby died, the doors won’t close, and the boys and new girl are causing chaos in the field. Newt is trying to get everyone into the Slammer with the help of the other keepers minus Gally. He ran into the maze I think.
In the distance, I hear Newt yelling for me. I got a random surge of confidence as I jumped down and ran towards his voice while wielding one of the spears we made. “What’s the plan, Newt?”
“Do you have a better one than hiding in the Slammer?”
“As a matter of fact, yes. Help spread the word to get everyone up to my treehouse. Tell them once it fills, start climbing trees as high as possible. Whoever wants to join can come with me; I’m going after the grievers.”
With the Gladers up in the trees minus the Keepers, Thomas and myself the grievers came rolling into the Glade. Winston, who was near the East door, shouted that he hears their wiring from around the corner. Newt and I were in the middle of the field in front of the North door along with Thomas and Minho. 
“Are we sure this is the best option?” Minho practically yelled. Some of the Gladers in the trees began to scream, so we knew there were grievers already in the Glade.
“It’s the only option until we get enough time to get out of this shucking place without being stung by the grievers.”  We all took off towards the mechanical animals. Each of us split off to take on different grievers. After I killed one of the monsters, I could see Chuck struggle as one of the grievers spotted him.
 I ran over to help just as Thomas and Newt also saw him struggling against it. Thomas and Newt immediately attacked the griever while I climbed the tree to help Chuck get back on the branch. I pulled him to me as I leaned against the trunk. I pulled my legs up along with Chuck’s when I noticed the griever become less interested in the boys and more so with us. 
“Newt! Thomas! Do something!” I yelled as I moved my body to protect Chuck more. I hear the boys running, but I also hear the wiring of the mechanical beast behind me. I look at Chuck before noting his widened eyes staring at the griever behind me. I leaned in to whisper “Chuck, I want you to climb up to that branch as slowly as possible. Got that?” He nodded prior to grabbing at the branch and lifting himself to it.
I reached to grab a branch opposite of Chuck before quickly swinging my body around the griever and stabbing it with a stray branch. I looked back at Newt and Thomas who stood with their jaws open. “Close your mouths or you’ll catch flies.”  
“We didn’t see any more of those shanks. Ready to make a run for it?” Newt grabs the stick I was holding, and he replaces it with a stake with both ends sharpened. Thomas went around to rally the guys. Newt looks into my eyes and notes that they are still bloodshot and puffy from witnessing Alby’s death. He slowly grabs my hand. “We’ve got this; you and me’ll lead them out of this maze. Good that?”
“That’s not what I’m worried about now.” He tilts his head in question. “What if there is nothing outside the Glade? What if everything else is ruined or non-existent anymore?” “Whatever is out there, we’ll face it together.” “Together.”
~~~~~~
Thanks for reading! For legal reasons, I am required to state that I did NOT take the picture. I got it off Pinterest or Google. Thanks for, hopefully, enjoying. Please like it and/or reblog. If you want more content, follow or send requests. You can add this account (made for content made by me), my ship/master account, @ship268​, or my other account, @thing268​, where I share other writers’ work. That’s all for now, Lads. Thanks for attending the Academy.
~BAD268
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ddixons-angel · 4 years
Text
Fated: Season 1
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Summary: Gloria Rhee narrowly escapes Atlanta with her brother as the outbreak reaches the city. Luckily, they find a camp outside the city and together, they fend through encounters with the living and undead.
Starts a little before Season 1 and then follows the main storyline of the show.
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Glenn Sister!OC
Warnings: major TWD spoilers, language, violence (the typical TWD stuff), implied smut/sex
Word Count:
A/N: Okay so I’m kinda nervous about this chapter! This is the last chapter of Season 1, and I think I’m just going to keep posting without a break so Season 2 will be starting to roll out next week Monday! I also have another fic idea I’m working on so I might be posting two things at once? Or would that get messy? Let me know what you think! 
Chapter 8:
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The giant metal doors to the CDC started to open for the group to enter. Rick looks around to his family and the others with a grin before turning around and leading everyone inside. The group follows Rick hesitantly and wary of their surroundings, the kids looking around in curiosity and awe as if they’re on a field trip. 
“Who are you people?” a man in a white lab coat asks them, looking at them warily. 
“Survivors.” Rick answers simply.
“What do you want?” the man questions again, looking at everyone filing into the large room.
“A chance.” Rick replies, eyeing the man. 
“That’s asking an awful lot these days.” he spots Carl and Sophia then his features soften, “you’ll each need to do a blood test, that’s your price of admission.”
Rick nods, “we can do that.” 
The man allows the group to enter, introducing himself as Dr. Jenner, the only person in the entire C.D.C. facility. He explains that everyone else either left for home or committed suicide, ‘opted out’ as he put it. He answers the questions the group has for him and looks over to Carl when he voices that he’s starving.
“You know what little man, you’re all free to help yourselves to the food storage just down the hallway.” Dr. Jenner smiles at him as the boy gleems happily. 
The others take Dr. Jenner’s offer gratefully, feasting and drinking to their hearts’ content. Everyone but Gloria is happily eating and conversing amongst themselves, although she does pay attention to the conversations and Daryl trying to get Glenn drunk. 
“You better not throw up on me.” Gloria says as she pushes him away from her, Glenn always gets clingy when he drinks.
“My baby sister!” Glenn grins as he wraps his arms around Gloria, slurring his words and giggles to himself.
She rolls her eyes and playfully glares at Daryl, “see what you caused?”
Daryl laughs and takes another swig of the large whiskey bottle in his hand. The others laugh, amused at Glenn’s drunken state and Gloria’s failed attempts to get him off of her. As quickly as it started, the mood is killed when Shane continuously questions Dr. Jenner about whether there even is a cure. 
“Ugh, you are such a buzzkill.” Glenn groans, now fully leaning on Gloria for support. 
“Alright, time for bed, let’s go.” Gloria says as she gets up with Glenn’s arm around her shoulders, supporting him as he isn’t able to even stand up properly. 
The rest of the group retreats to wash up and get ready for the night as well. Gloria escorts Glenn to the washrooms where Glenn ends up vomiting in one of the toilets. She pats his back, letting him relieve himself of the alcohol in his system. Once he signals to her that he’s better, Gloria wipes his face with a wet towel, making sure there is no residue on him. She carries him back to the room he had claimed earlier and tucks him into bed where he quickly falls asleep. 
“You are so gonna regret this tomorrow.” Gloria chuckles as she takes one last look at her brother, then she leaves to wash up herself.
After Gloria is freshly cleaned up, she retreats to her own claimed room and sits down on the bed, letting out a deep sigh. Being alone, she lets her mind wander back to the past few days, particularly what happened back on the rooftop with Merle. The guilt had been consuming her the more she thought about it. She shouldn’t have ever given him the hacksaw, what was she thinking? It would have never cut through those chains, and knowing how crazy a guy Merle is, she should have seen something like that coming. Now he was missing because of her, Daryl was missing his brother because of her. The sound of the door opening snaps Gloria out of her thoughts as she looks over to the door and sees Daryl peering in, a bottle of alcohol in hand; she wasn’t even sure whether it was the same one from dinner.
“Haven’t you drunk enough for one night?” Gloria teases him, a half smile on her face. 
Daryl walks into the room, “there might not be many nights left for us anyway, so why the hell not?” he says as he takes a swig from the bottle. 
Gloria nods at that, then looks down to the ground, her thoughts still trying to eat at her. There’s a moment of silence between the two before Daryl clears his throat, purposely loud, snapping her again from her thoughts.
“Wha’s up wit’ ya?” Daryl asks, now leaning against the wall, facing her, “ya din’t eat much, pickin’ at yer food like some kind o’ teenager.” 
She scoffs at his words, “nothing, we got shelter now, wouldn’t exactly call this place home, but it’s four walls and a roof. We’re safe for the night, there shouldn’t be anything wrong.” 
“Bu’ there is.” Daryl finishes for her. 
Gloria looks up at him as he stares back at her, she lets out a deep and heavy sigh, “it’s Merle.” she admits.
Daryl furrows his eyebrows in confusion, not expecting that answer, “wha’ ‘bout him?”
“I feel bad... for what happened to him.” Gloria says, her voice small. 
“Ya crazy, girl... ya know you’re the only one who shouldn’ feel bad for wha’ happened? You’re the one who stayed behind wit’ him.” Daryl tried to reason with her, he doesn’t understand why she would feel bad about the situation. 
“I should have done more,” Gloria sighs, trying to keep her composure but failing as tears start to fall, “I should have known he would have done something stupid like cutting off his own hand. I gave him the damn saw! That’s on me!” 
Daryl watches helplessly as Gloria sobs, wallowing in her own guilt. He’s never been good at comforting people, never knowing what to say or do.
“Merle... he’s...” Daryl tries to think of something, “he’s insane, ya can never predict what he’s gonna do, ya can’t blame yourself for that.”
“I told him to cut the chains...” she says in a whisper, sniffling. 
Daryl shuffles on his feet uncomfortably before making up his mind and sits beside Gloria on the bed, he hesitates to put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her to lean on him, “stop blamin’ yerself.” 
Gloria shakes her head, “I can’t..”
Daryl pulls away from Gloria at her words and turns her to face him, he looks into her eyes, “I don’ blame ya.” he says, sincerity pure in his voice, “I’m Merle’s blood, his family, and I don’ blame ya. So tell me, what right do ya have to blame yerself?” 
She tries to compose herself again, taking deep breaths and nods at Daryl’s words, she sniffles a bit more as she wipes her tears away, “sorry you had to see my like this.” she looks away in embarrassment. 
Daryl grunts and looks away from her, wanting her to feel comfortable as she wipes away the last remaining tears from her face. He looks down at the bottle he had placed on the floor then picks it up again, taking another swig from it then offering it to Gloria. 
“This should help wit’ all that guilt and shitty feelin’s.” Daryl half smiles at her. 
Gloria looks at Daryl then glances at the bottle, and after a moment of contemplation, she grabs the bottle from him and takes a few big gulps. Daryl chuckles as he watches her, she hisses at the burning sensation down her throat. 
“Hope yer tolerance is better than yer brother.” Daryl teases, taking the bottle from her and having another swig himself.
“I’m the drinker in my family, ya don’ need to worry ‘bout that.” Gloria giggles as she mocks his accent. 
Daryl rolls his eyes at her making fun of his speech. The two of them take turns drinking from the bottle, eventually getting tipsy together. Gloria starts to lean on Daryl, giggling more as the alcohol takes over her. 
“Ya wanna know something?” Gloria grins at him, her face close to Daryl’s.
He eyes her carefully, “wha’?”
“You. Are an extremely attractive man, Daryl Dixon.” Gloria says, her eyes never leaving his. 
Daryl purses his lips together, then lightly pushes Gloria off him, getting up from the bed but wobbles slightly from the head rush, “ya should sleep, you’re drunk.”
Gloria grabs hold of his hand and tries to pull him back towards her, “Daryl...” she calls, “I want you.” 
He scoffs at her, feeling his face flush as her words but tells himself it’s just the alcohol getting to him, to both of them, “Nah, ya don’.”
“Don’t tell me what I want Daryl! I may not know what I want tomorrow, but tonight... I want you!” she looks up at him, “I’ve wanted you for a while now.” she hiccups and shoots him a flirty smile. 
“Ya ain’ gonna regret it?” Daryl looks at her, biting his bottom lip.
“What’s there to regret? It’s the end of the world, like you said, there might not be many nights left. What could one night hurt for us?” Gloria uses his own words against him.
He stares at her, his eyes wandering from her eyes to her lips, down to her body. Gloria patiently waits for him to make his next move, her eyes beckoning him to come closer. Daryl looks away then lets out a breath.
“Fuck it.” he breathes, then moves towards Gloria on the bed.
He leans down and catches her lips with his, kissing her roughly, earning a soft moan from her as she wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her as she lies down. Daryl’s hands move down to her waist, caressing her skin underneath her tight black tank top. His tongue licks her bottom lip, asking for entrance which Gloria gladly grants. Their kiss deepens, Gloria is pleasantly surprised at how soft and gentle his kisses could be. 
Reluctantly, Daryl pulls away, both of them breathless and panting for air, “ya sure ya wan’ this?”
Gloria smiles up at him, leaning up to peck his lips before answer breathlessly, “yes.” 
He smiles down back at her then claims her lips with his again, this time at a more gentle pace. Daryl bites and nips at her lips, then moving down to her neck, leaving marks on her porcelain perfect skin. 
The night goes on with endless kisses, skin on skin, full of passion and lust for one another. When the two would wake up in the morning in each other’s arms, they’d blame the alcohol for their choices, but they were both okay with that. Gloria rolls around on the bed and smiles lazily at Daryl who’s already smiling softly at her, playing with her hair, his arm on her waist.
“Morning.” she whispers.
“Mornin’.” Daryl says back, then he sits up, ruffling his hair with his hand. 
Gloria stretches as she’s still lying down, she looks over at Daryl who was getting off the bed, putting on his pants but his bare back was facing her, giving her a full view of the scars that littered his skin. Something in her heart broke when she saw those scars, but she knew better than to ask about something so personal even if they did just have sex the night before. Daryl picks up his shirt along with Gloria’s clothes and throws them at her. 
“Thanks.” she says from underneath her clothes.
Daryl chuckles at her and puts on his shirt as Gloria starts to get dressed as well. 
“Hey, Daryl?” she looks up at him once she’s fully dressed, “I was hoping... you could keep last night just between you and me.”
Her request causes Daryl to frown, “why?” he says in a rather harsh tone, sounding angry.
“I...” Gloria stutters, taken aback by his sudden harsh tone, “nobody needs to know.”
“You’re just embarrassed that ya spent the night with me, ain’t ya? An’ now that ya sobered up, ya regret it, that it?!” Daryl snaps angrily as he paces around the room. 
Gloria frowns, “No, Daryl, it’s nothing like that.”
“Bullshit! Tha’s exactly what it is!” he exclaims, getting more worked up as he talks, “ya, the high and mighty doctor of our group, not wantin’ to get caught up wit’ some good for nothin’ redneck!” 
Gloria gets up from the bed and puts her hands on Daryl’s shoulder to try and hold him in place to look at her, “Daryl, stop! Will you just shut up and listen to me?” 
Still breathing heavily from anger, Daryl glares at her, but waits for her to speak.
“All you had was Merle, right? No sisters?” Gloria asks when she sees that he’s actually willing to listen.
“Wha’s that got to do with anythin'? ” Daryl retorts back.
“It has everything to do with it. You grew up with your brother and you guys might have shared stories about who you slept with because you have that brotherly bond, but it’s not like that when you have a sibling who’s another gender. It gets awkward.” Gloria explains, “I don’t want to know about Glenn’s sex life and I know he doesn’t want to know about mine, so to spare each other the awkwardness, that’s why I asked you to keep it only between us.” 
Daryl's breathing calmed down as he registers her words, “sorry...” he says after a moment.
Gloria lets out a small sigh of relief that Daryl finally believes her, she smiles at him, “it’s okay, and by the way,” she leans close to him and whispers into his ear, “you were amazing last night.” 
Blushing hard at what she just told him, Daryl scoffs, trying to play off his embarrassment and wraps his arm around Gloria’s shoulders, “ya still drunk, let’s get some food in ya.” 
Gloria laughs as Daryl ushers her out of the room and towards the dining table. Glenn was already sitting there but his head was laying on the table, groaning from the pounding headache of his hangover. 
“See what you did to him?” Gloria says, playfully eyeing Daryl and he laughs, going off to the kitchen to get some food, she sits beside Glenn and wraps her arm around his shoulders, “you okay, bro?”
Glenn groans in response which causes Gloria to chuckle in amusement. She gets up and heads to the kitchen to get him some breakfast. T-Dog had cooked eggs for everyone so Gloria helped herself to a plate, bringing it to Glenn and also put a bottle of water in front of him. 
“Here, eat. It’ll help you feel better.” Gloria nudges him gently, making him sit up. 
He looks at her groggily and groans as he starts to eat the eggs, “Ugh, I’m never drinking ever again.” 
Gloria pats his back gently in hopes to somehow comfort his throbbing head. When the others have all woken up and had their breakfast, they follow Dr. Jenner into the lab where he shows them the demonstration of their last test subject, TS-19, who he reveals to the group was his late wife. She was the reason he was staying in the building and is the last person left, he had made a promise to her to keep going as far as he could. Unfortunately, he breaks the news to the group that there is no cure for the outbreak. He also tells the group that they don’t have much time left as the place will face total decontamination once the power runs out. 
“Total decontamination? What does that even mean?” Carol asks, her voice filled with worry.
“The place is gonna blow... disintegrating everything... nothing left... total and complete decontamination.” Gloria sighs, remembering that this was talked about in one of her classes in university. 
Gloria’s explanation causes the others to start panicking, even more so when Dr. Jenner refuses to open the doors, saying he isn’t able to, locking everyone inside. Shane and Rick start to yell at Dr. Jenner to open the doors and let them out as Daryl starts to try and break open the doors with an axe. Thinking as practical as she can, Gloria decides to go back into the food and water storage of the building, grabbing as many bottles and dry food items as she can and stuffs them into her bag, she returns to the room where Daryl is still trying to break open the door, now joined by Shane. 
“Those doors are designed to withstand a rocket launcher.” Dr. Jenner says in their futile attempt to break open the doors.
“Yeah,” Daryl says as he goes over to the doctor, axe still in hand, “well yer head ain’t!”
He attempts to swing the axe towards Dr. Jenner only to have Rick, Shane and T-Dog stop him, T-Dog grabbing the axe from him. Gloria goes over to Daryl and puts her hand on his arm to try and calm him. He looks at her and huffs, shrugging her hand off his arm and runs back to the door to continue to try and break it open. 
“Dr. Jenner, please, open the door. It’s not fair for you to keep us locked up in here without giving us a choice!” Gloria shouts at him, pleading for the group.
“What’s the point? Wouldn’t you rather die here, painlessly, not feel a thing rather than getting ripped to shreds out there?” Dr. Jenner tries to reason.
“That may be your choice, but that’s not ours! You don’t have the right to make that choice for us, for all of us! You may prefer to go that way, but I don’t!” Gloria shouts, getting more frustrated as Dr. Jenner doesn’t budge.
She lets out a frustrated yell and goes to Shane, grabbing the axe from him and joins Daryl in trying to destroy the door. Both of them continue to try and hack at the door until gunfire is heard as Shane erupts, firing shots into the computers and more of the equipment in the lab. Finally complying, Dr. Jenner presses a button to open the doors; whether it was the group’s pleas or Shane’s gunfire that made him do it, they’ll never know but at least now they have a chance to escape.
“C’mon, let’s go!” Daryl yells as the doors open. 
Gloria and Daryl quickly usher the group out of the building, fearing that they won’t make it out in time. The group is stopped by the bulletproof windows surrounding the outside of the building. Glenn, Daryl, Gloria, and T-Dog start throwing anything they can get their hands on to break the windows. 
“Look out!” Rick shouts as he approaches the window and lets go of a hand grenade, “everybody down!”
The group looks for anything to take cover as the grenade explodes, shattering the glass and giving them their path to freedom. They all run quickly, jumping out of the building and dashing to their respective cars. Daryl pushes Gloria towards his truck, ushering her to get in and closes the door behind her as he gets in from the other side. They both duck down, waiting for the unmistakable explosion of the C.D.C. Gloria peeks her head out of the window to see the wreckage of the blast, fire, smoke and debris painting the scene. Daryl sits up and starts the truck, seeing the others doing the same. He drives off, following the others to a safer place, a place away from the destroyed C.D.C to regroup and figure out what to do from there.
---
Next Chapter
Yep! So that happened! I feel like I have to have an explanation for this because this might be really out of character for Daryl for some people. I see Daryl as an emotional drinker, meaning that he acts differently depending on his mood and the people he is with. We saw that with him drinking at the C.D.C., he was happy and excited, but when he was drinking with Beth, he was miserable because of the events that happened prior. So here, I used the alcohol to bring out his caring side as well since he really does care about Gloria and (I reveal this in later chapters) he has a really heavy attraction for her as well. Hope that helps everyone accept what happened in this chapter haha~ and with that, I am done rambling! 
I would really appreciate any comments left for me! I’ll be replying to any comments in a new post because this is a sideblog!
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moonlit-imagines · 5 years
Text
Prime Time
Bellamy Blake x reader
warnings:
a/n:
prompt: @everydayimfangirling: “Could I request a Bellamy Blake x reader imagine set in s6? Maybe where the reader is a nightblood and instead of Clarke being chipped and going through all that shit, its the reader who goes through it all? Super angsty. Hopefully that makes sense! I'm sure it'll be great! Thank you so much! ❤❤❤❤❤❤”
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Your blood was black and more valuable than you could possibly know. You thought that after the time of the commanders was over, the only good thing that came from your blood was radiation immunity. But it’s never that simple, is it?
When you arrived on Planet Alpha, you weren’t sure to expect. You were definitely mesmerized by the new scenery, and confused by its current state. After a very long day of being cuffed to a wall and hoping you would survive this eclipse, the population of this village arrived, along with some answers.
You and Bellamy sat across from each other at the table in the cute little bar your friends were trapped in. Their hospitality skills were unmatched. You hadn’t felt this welcome somewhere since Lexa had a group of you over for a feast. That is, before she was almost poisoned and a war almost broke out.
Getting off track here: Bellamy and you were discussing the current situation.
“What if they don’t let us stay, Bel?” You spoke lowly. He grabbed your hand and squeezed it reassuringly.
“Don’t worry, Clarke’s going to take care of this. Everything will come together soon enough.” He explained.
“Do you ever still wish you were on the Ring?” You asked. Bellamy sighed.
“Sometimes. Too much has changed, I wish I had been able to preserve old memories, now their just tainted with the truth.” Bel frowned, causing you to frown, as well.
“I’m sorry, Bel. I truly am.” You rested your head on the table.
“Hey, y/n, it’s not your fault.” He told you. “Don’t stress yourself out. You’re the only thing that’s kept me sane through these past few years. Remember that.” He gave you a weak but genuine smile.
“I love you.” You leaned forward to give him a kiss.
“Y/N?” One of the guards walked into the bar and informed you of a change of plans. “You’ve been invited to tonight’s dinner, as well. I suggest you get ready?”
“Oh,” you blankly stared at the messenger, “uhh—”
“You can borrow a dress of mine, I don’t mind!” Delilah told you.
“Very well, we’ll see you soon.” The guard exited the building and Delilah led you and Bellamy to her closet.
“Thank you so, so much, Delilah. You’re so kind, it’s almost baffling.” You complimented.
“It’s my pleasure, you can pick whatever you’d like in here.” She told you. “I’ll leave you to it.” She closed the door and you heard her footsteps fade away. You looked through the array of dressed that Delilah gave you access to.
“I’ve never worn a dress before.” You admitted to Bellamy.
“I figured.” He replied with a sweet little smile. “You’re gonna look amazing in something that’s not inherently post-apocalyptic. Not that I don’t love your gear as it is.” Bel corrected himself.
“Yeah, yeah.” You chuckled as your eye caught a beautiful sky blue dress. That was the one, you pulled it out of the closet and held it in front of Bellamy for his opinion.
“That one’s perfect for you.” He observed the perfect stitching on the dress. “Try it on.”
You removed your jacket and pulled off your shirt and pants. Bellamy helped you get into the dress. It’s not like you needed help, but he was sweet enough to do it anyways. He adjusted the back for you and tied it up, then turned you around and admired this new side of you.
“I feel very out of place.” You crossed your arms.
“It’s only a few hours.” He kissed your forehead and held you in his arms for a moment long enough to call “forever.” But forever couldn’t be achieved, and you had to keep working. Bel fixed your hair up a bit, you told him it looked fine, but there were hairs sticking up every which way.
“Bel, please. Just help me get these weird shoes on.” You instructed. They were similar to gladiator sandals, reaching to just below your knee. Your borrowed dress was cut above the knee in the front, but reached to your ankle in the back, flowing perfectly behind you. Soon Clarke came upstairs to retrieve you for this dinner.
“Wow, y/n, you look great.” She looked you up and down, giving you a warm smile.
“Look who’s talking.” You quickly went over everything you needed in your head and said your goodbyes to Bellamy.
“Good luck, y/n. You guys are going to do great.” He followed you back to the bar area and while you left, you avoided everyone’s compliments toward you. You were a bit flustered. Clarke was more exhausted by it all.
The pair of you were welcomed into the palace and sat down in front of Sanctum’s leaders. Russel was a kind man, made an effort to make your people feel welcome, but his wife, Simone, didn’t share that quality.
“It’s rude to not eat when you’re a guest.” Simone told Clarke. You clenched your fists every time she spoke. You grabbed a piece of food and had to admit, it was one of the best things you’ve ever tried.
Your luck never was that good, tonight luck wanted to inflict pain onto you. While chewing something that was perfectly delicious, you bit your tongue. Very hard. Hard enough to draw blood. Your black blood unevenly reached your lips as you covered it wih a napkin. The Lightbornes stared at this new discovery.
“Oh dear, could we get a nurse in here?” Simone asked a guard who, in turn, rushed out to obey the Prime. “I’m sorry to cut this short, but I think it’s time you should go, Clarke.” Russel nodded in agreement.
“We need to contemplate our decision,” Russel told you two, “but y/n, please stay. We’d like to take care of your minor injury.” Russel motioned to a guard to have Clarke escorted out, then took you with him to a lab where the nurse would meet you. He quickly patched you up and left so that Russel could speak to you. “Black blood, hm?”
“Oh, yeah, Earth didn’t have many of us Natblida’s.” You told him.
“‘Natblida?’” He repeated.
“That’s our word for black blood.” You told him.
“Are there any others like you?”
—————
You woke up in a familiar place. Where was this?
Arkadia.
What could it be? A fever dream? The last you remember is speaking to Russel, then it all went black. Someone drugged you. But who’s there? A girl you didn’t recognize walked through an interesting looking red door. She twisted her hair in her finger and walked closer.
“What are you still doing here?” She asked.
“Where is here, exactly?” You looked around at this fabricated world.
“Your mind,” she replied, “well, my mind now. I’m Josephine Lightborne, your body belongs to me now.” She informed you, observing Arkadia. “Nice place.”
“What’s going on?” You asked. “How are you here? Is this even real?” You walked into camp and found all your dead friends, ones who had stayed back during Praimfaya. They were burnt to a crisp, just staring at you.
“Gross, what’s up with these guys?” Josie asked, standing next to you.
“During Apocalypse Two, they refused to come to shelter. Suicide by radiation.” You sighed and moved along to the next room. “Care to answer my questions?”
“Right,” She rolled her eyes and followed behind you, “This is all your mind, your memories. My memories were uploaded into you, so you were supposed to die during that. I’m not entirely sure how you’re still here...”
“My consciousness hid. I remember that much.” You opened a door in Arkadia and walked straight into Polis. When Alie had taken over. Kane was being crucified, there were chips floating all around, blood puddled on the ground, bad memories all around.
“Damn, I got blood on my boots.” Josie complained. “Well, I gotta say, this mind is a shit-show and I’d like to leave, meaning wake up, but I need to know how to get you out first.”
“Have fun with that.” You remarked and Josie’s jaw dropped.
“Listen, I’ll make sure your friends can stay here if you just give up now.” She promised. “We can’t both survive in here, and it’s pretty much over for you.” You walked away from her and she kept chasing you. “I’m gonna wake up soon, I expect you to tell me what to do when I get back, kapeesh?”
Josie disappeared and you were left with your own thoughts. You tripped and fell to the ground, but stood back up and found yourself on the Ring. There stood Alie at the computer, awaiting your arrival. She explained her comprehension of the situation and showed you how to defeat this intruder. You watched her movement throughout Sanctum on the monitor. She was with your friends, pretending to be you. You watched as she watched your friends watch a video of her being put into another girl’s body, it was awful. Your friends had immediately protested.
Bellamy was confused as to why you were excusing this behavior, only it wasn’t you. He could tell something was off.
“Hey, y/n?” He rested his hand on Josephine’s shoulder and she tensed up. “What happened after dinner last night, are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she told him, “they’re going to let us stay, Bellamy. As long as we follow their customs. I’m guessing snooping around here isn’t going to bode well for us, so let’s get going.” You stared at Bel through the monitor, hoping she wouldn’t look away. It had only been one night, but it was a long one.
“Alright guys, let’s move out.” He instructed the group.
—————
You were exhausted. Mentally exhausted. The fighting was nonstop, and the place was falling apart. Poor Bellamy found out that you weren’t you, but you couldn’t tell him that you were still there. It broke your heart. Josephine had told him the news herself, it destroyed him immediately. His grief showed through anger.
“Give it up, Bellamy. She’s dead and you get to stay here, that was the trade off.” She shrugged and paced around him. “At least you get to survive.”
“Survive? How many chances have you gotten to survive? Her life was just cut short and for what?! So you could live another life as royalty?” He shouted, tears streaming down his face, shaking out of rage.
“It’s my right in Sanctum.” She told him smugly. Bellamy stomped away and hid from the others while he calmed down. You sat in front of the computer, crying and watching Josephine walk back to the palace to brag about the pain she had just inflicted on the man you love. Meanwhile, Bellamy was sobbing quietly in a secluded area, figuring out his next move, but before he could do that, guards knocked him out and locked him up.
“Y/N, you’ll need to act fast.” Alie told you, next thing you knew, Josephine was back and gloating.
“You know I’m going to win, just give up.”
—————
Bellamy and the rest of your friends rushed to get you away, but Josephine decided to stall and threated Murphy with a knife. Emori was hesitant on her next move, but got the radiation shield down. Bellamy took Josephine through the woods while she protested, nearly begging him to turn back.
Captured and afraid, you were trying to communicate with Bellamy through morse code. Blinking was your way of telling Bellamy it was going to be okay. He was scared, he didn’t know what would happen next. When you started bleeding and were put on the chopping block, Bellamy fought his restraints.
“That’s Josephine Lightbourne! I don’t think Gabriel would be pleased if you killed her.” Bellamy shouted at them, making them stop suddenly. Josie made a run for it and left Bellamy in the dust, it was time for you to hide.
You got full control, Josephine merely instructed you on which way to go, leading you underground until you seized and went down. Josephine waited patiently for help to arrive. Finally, Bellamy, Octavia, and Gabriel came to your rescue, Bellamy panicking ask he ripped the vines from around your neck.
“Y/N, y/n, stay with me.” He told you as he lifted you up and brought you to Gabriel’s base. He was begging you to keep fighting for your life, but you were unaware. You were still fighting, though. Josie’s memories had to be burned. After she showed you a little about herself, it was another memory in the pit. She cried and went on to the next one, and then you both died. Her drive got taken out and it was dark, you stood there, waiting for something to happen.
On the other side was Bellamy, freaking the hell out because you weren’t waking up.
“I’m sorry...” Gabriel told the siblings. Bellamy wouldn’t take it, he started to try resuscitating you.
“Bel, she’s gone...” Octavia placed a hand on her brother’s shoulder while he rushed to save you.
“No!” He yelled at her as he beat on your chest. “No she’s not! Y/N, listen to me, everything’s gonna be fine, just like you said. Stay with me.” He moved to your mouth briefly and back to your chest. “Just like you said, everything would be okay!” Tears started to escape his eyes, dropping onto your exposed skin. Gabriel and Octavia watched him with pity in their eyes. How long would he do this before he gave up and accepted the truth.
You opened your eyes wide and gasped, Bellamy stared in disbelief before grabbing you and pulling you close, Octavia let go of the breath she had been holding for so long. Bellamy started to cry again.
“I thought I’d lost you.” He whispered in your ear.
“I’m right here, baby. I’m right here.”
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Note
Anyway, thank you! I hope you have an amazing day! Can I ask if you’re doing something special to celebrate? Or do you not celebrate? I know some people think that birthdays aren’t a huge deal. Tbh as someone who has struggled in life and has contemplated (and even attempted once or twice) suicide, I think, with seeing all the bad stuff on the news too that living a whole ‘nother year is actually such a blessing! Lol maybe that’s dark, but I think it’s important to celebrate life! 💖🙌🏻
I don’t think I’m doing anything special, although I have a friend who’s birthday is on the 8th. So on the 6th, we are gonna have a facetime cake eating dinner date 😂?? LOL
I’m sorry that you had such a low point in life to feel/attempted that, but I get it (from a depress person to another). I use to hate my birthday because I hate myself a lot lmao. Now that I have been on an antidepressant for a year-ish, I think it’s the first time in a long time that I’m like “maybe my birthday is not bad”. I’m very much a person of “live to die another day”= “not today satan”, so I’ll continue living and enjoying life as much as I can! Even if everything is shitty right now, I/we just gotta try our best.
And of course, thank you so much for your fic gift and the birthday wishes!!!💕🐹
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fanfictrashdump · 4 years
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Queening a Pawn, 4
Last of the night.
TW: Small (barely worth the warning) mention of suicidal ideation, drug effects.
Summary: During the Time Heist, Loki stole the Tesseract and escaped. He did not expect, however, to be pulled through a Time Loop that delivered him to a Midgard more than a decade older, wiser, and bitterer. Having just lived through his unsuccessful attack in New York, Loki must learn to live in Midgard after the defeat of Thanos (post-Endgame). The question is, who is Loki without a quest for a throne or total domination?
Loki x OC
=
"Delilah, you have a visitor." FRIDAY echoed overhead, making the only occupant in the room start from her slumber.
Lilah groaned in bed, turning her back to the door and burrowing deeper into the bedsheets. "Nope."
"They're kind of insisting, Del."
"What time is it, FRI?" Delilah wiped at her eyes, whining pitifully into the darkness that surrounded her.
"It is three forty three in the morning. The temperature outside is twelve degrees and internal temperature is sixty seven degrees, Fahrenheit. Do you want to know the weather?"
Delilah growled. "Just tell me who's at the door, FRIDAY!"
"Rock of Ages is–"
"For fuck's sake, Loki," she grumbled. "Let him in and just… he'll figure it out."
The door slammed open a second later and heavy footfalls followed. "Lilah! Deh-LI-lah! Where's your hidey-hole –hahahahaha, hole… Delilah?" Just as she sat up in bed and contemplated going to her living room, her bedroom door swung open. "Hey, pocket pixie. Are you awake?" He was whispering with all the grace of a rambunctious three year-old.
"Lord above, Loki, what is going on?" She growled, as he suddenly flipped the light switch and turned the dimmers up to an almost sun-like glow. She shielded her eyes against the light as Loki nosed around her room. "Are you drunk?"
He paid no mind to her queries. "You said we were friendly, but Thor told me you were my only friend because no one wanted to work with me after the… you know… the genocide," he added another whisper.
"You had other friends, Lo." Delilah peeked with one eye to watch the pacing demigod. He looked probably worse than she did right now. His hair was disheveled and his button-up had become crumpled and had, at some point, been taken off, as it was currently mis-buttoned.
"No! I had colleagues with which I shared mutual tolerance." He pouted severely, staring blankly at a corkboard full of pictures before letting out an insane cackle. "You're making funny faces in this photograph." His hand reached out to touch a rabbit plushie on the table below. "Oh, this is so soft."
"Oh, fuck. You're tripping balls." Delilah gently herded him away from the stuffed animal, dumping him into an armchair in the corner of her bedroom. "Loki, what did you take?"
Loki smiled and patted her hair down from the bedheaded mess it was in. "Dinner with you and some more beer with Thor." His smile faltered and his hands fell to hers. "You should have stayed. We had a bad talk." Loki's eyes shimmered with tears that were gone as soon as they appeared. "Your eyes are so green."
Lilah chuckled, despite herself. "So are yours, buddy. Or they would be if your pupils weren't blown as hell." She tilted his chin to focus him back on her. "What else did you have?"
"I had a headache, afterwards. I walked around to find something to get rid of it and the nicest agent gave me some pills." He turned his face and placed a kiss on her bare wrist before cackling again. "I feel great now."
"Alright, then. That's good, bud." Lilah puffed out her cheeks and pondered. She had not had the privilege of dealing with someone who was this sort of high before. After all, stoners were a lot more chill than this. Though, mercifully, Loki was entertaining himself by wrapping his fingers in locks of her hair until they became a curl. "Hey, FRI. Awkward question, how can I tell what kind of drugs someone is on?"
"Any answers to that will have to be on record, Delilah."
"OK. How do I know whether someone's heart will give out and die?" She asked through gritted teeth.
"If they are awake and alert, there is little risk of overdose." Delilah breathed, wincing when he tugged on her hair just a little too hard. "Loki's vital signs are within normal range, if that Is what's worrying you."
There was silver lining in this hazy cloud, after all. "Thanks, FRI. Could you–"
"Completely off the record. Keep subject hydrated until they come down."
The tears were back, and this time they had run down the sharp planes of his cheekbones, unhindered. "Will do, FRIDAY. Thanks." Sighing, she brushed away at the trails on his cheeks using the hem of her oversized sleep shirt. "Hey." His lip quivered at her soft tone. "What's wrong, buddy?"
"My mother is dead."
Lilah winced at the pain in his tone. "I know, Lo. I'm really sorry."
"I am adopted, a monster, a genocidal prick, my mind was controlled, and now my mother is dead. Must I be a walking curse? An omen of ill will?" His voice was shaky, same as the hands in her hair and clasped in her own. Delilah felt awkward. He was never a touchy-feely kind of guy, but it seemed that being high out of his mind and without his magic left him vulnerable.
"You are Loki and you are whatever you want to be, all the time. Today is no different."
He scoffed, his eyes hardening and his jaw tight. "Dead sounds like a pretty good option, at the moment," he muttered.
The snap of her hand on his cheek broke the undisturbed silence of the night. He had yelped, releasing his hold on her hair to soothe the digits-shaped mark. For a moment Lilah was glad he was out of it, or he would have definitely injured her without a second thought in a fit of rage. Instead, his lower lip quivered more, tears flowing freely.
"That's my friend you're talking about. You don't say shit like that, got it?" Face to face, they were mirror images of each other, tears forming salty trails down both of their cheeks before Delilah hastily wiped her face, palm still stinging. "I'm gonna get you some water."
When she returned with two large glasses of water, Loki was still rubbing his cheek, though now it was simultaneous with doing the same to the armchair. "So soft," he kept mumbling, over and over.
"God, you're high as a kite." He looked up with bright, glazed eyes, looking conflicted as to which hand he wanted to unoccupy for the task and not making any headway. "I'm not going to hold the cup for you, Loki."
"But it's so soft! I can't let go now! What if it changes?" He cried, his brow furrowed in concern.
Delilah swallowed the retort bubbling in her throat. "If I'm ever this high, you better take care of me, Lo." The glass tilted towards his lips and he greedily drank the liquid down, some dribbling out the sides and down his chin to land on his shirt. He didn't seem to care, as he finished the first glass and quickly asked for the second, drinking with as much fervor as before.
"You're a pretty Midgardian, Delilah." His hand had migrated from his cheek to his hair, and through the still-flowing tears, he let out a peal of laughter. "Delilah cut my hair and now I'm weak, just like… er… What's-his-face!"
"Samson–"
"Samson!" Loki giggled, though his smile turned back into a frown a second later. "Samson was liked, though. He was a hero. I'm a no-gooder. I deserve to be weak. All Samson did was love!"
"OK. You're clearly spiraling. How about we get you in bed, buddy?" With a few tugs, she managed to get Loki on his feet and travel the short distance to her bed. He instantly reached for the teal fleece blanket she had been snuggled under before her slumber was rudely interrupted. "Sleep it off, OK?"
"Don't leave!" He called just as she was about to flip the lights off and crash on the couch. "My skin is ants and I don't want to be lonely in case they eat me."
"You skin is… ants?" He nodded frantically. Her hesitation only bought her an exaggerated pout that made her feel guilty. Groaning, she flipped the switch off and slipped into bed beside him. His left hand drew large circles onto the fleece blanket, but his right burrowed under her sleepshirt and made tidy circles on her stomach. "That is… an HR complaint. For sure."
"So warm. And soft."
"Loki, you need to be quiet and sleep now," she whispered, ignoring the flutter of his fingers over her skin. To his credit, he tried to still himself beside her, though his body was still practically vibrating. It was going to be a long night.
...
"This is your wake-up call, Delilah," FRIDAY announced, just as the sun was streaming in through the windows of her bedroom.
"FRIDAY, tell Sam I am going to be late and cancel my eight am, please. Wake me in another hour," she growled, pulling her blanket closer. Except her blanket was not a blanket, it was a white Oxford button-up shirt and its owner was plastered against her back, snoring.
"Should I tell Thor his brother is here?"
Delilah pressed her eyes tight, trying to pretend that the world outside was non-existent. "Take a wild guess, FRI."
"Thor is looking for him."
"He's indisposed." Loki whimpered in his sleep and tightened his grip around her stomach. "And crushing me."
"Thor is asking for GPS tracking."
"For fuck's sake, just tell him that Loki will meet him in a half hour in the canteen, OK?" Loki started at her half-yelled response, clutching his head immediately after at the sudden jolt. "Lights on at ten percent, please."
"No," a voice hissed darkly into her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. "Leave me in the dark to rot." His face hid itself into the crook of her neck and groaned miserably.
She patted his hand, trying to squirm out of his steel grasp. "Loki, I need to pee." With another groan, his fingers reluctantly left the comfortable heat of her stomach and he faced the dim lighting overhead.
"My face hurts," he grumbled, rubbing the cheek she remembered plainly striking the night before. "Oh, Hel. My head." Without so much as a backwards glance, she scurried off to the washroom, taking her sweet time brushing her teeth and washing her face, hoping against all hope that the Asgardian left on his own. Delilah was never one for awkward conversations, and she was more than certain that this would be the awkward chat to end all awkward chats.
When she re-emerged, he was sitting at the edge of the bed, head hung between his shoulders in a pitiful stance. He had, fortunately, managed to sling his shirt back on, though it hung open over his frame. "You still breathing there, bud?" Loki barely nodded. Her traitorous legs moved on their own accord, stopping only when she reached him. Unsure on a course of action, she waited quietly for him to acknowledge her.
Loki's eyes swept slowly from the ground, up her form until they reached her own. There was the slightest shadow of lavender dusted on his cheek that made her stomach churn. "Do you always attend strange men who call in the night in your underthings?"
Delilah frowned, glancing down at herself. Her sleepshirt was several sizes too large, and covered her thighs, but she had definitely not had the opportunity to put on shorts before letting Loki in. "In my defense, it was three in the morning when you barged into my bedroom  and I, frankly, had more important things to worry about." He dropped his head again, without so much as a snarky comment, which was more worrying than not. "Your brother is looking for you."
"I heard." He whispered.
"Do you need help getting back?" Her tone matched his. She assumed it was for the benefit of his head.
There was a long stretch of silence and Lilah wondered whether or not he had even heard her. "I don't know why I came to you." The sentence held no malice or mocking, just an expression of confusion to a question she had not even asked.
"I don't mind, actually." She carded her fingers through the gnarly mess of her hair, wincing when her fingers met the occasional knot. "Hey, Loki?"
"Yes?"
Now came the awkward part. "If you were to see the agent that gave you the pills, would you recognize them?" This drew his attention back to her face. His brow furrowed as he gave her the slightest of nods. "Good… because I am going to need to fire them."
Loki's eyes drew closed with a sigh. "Don't make yourself enemies for my stupidity. I should have just come to you last night."
"I'm required to, by law." She raised her hand to halt his protest. "Someone deliberately drugged you and they may not stop at doing it to you out of spite. You were buzzed, but some human might die."
Her hand patted his cheek on its descent, and she was startled when his own grasped it as she pulled away. A ghost of a smirk was forming onto his lips, the dark circles under his eyes making him look manic. "Why does my face hurt?" Loki held her fingers in almost the exact place the had made contact during the night.
"I was trying to slap some common sense into you. It didn't work. Your skull is too thick," she replied, deadpan. "Can I get some clothes on, now?" With a half grin, he released her hand. "Thank you. Do you need help getting back to your room?" He shook his head in the negative. "Want me to grab you on my way to the cafeteria?" He nodded, but didn't move. "Cool. Can you get the fuck out now, or…?" 
With a chuckle, Loki stood, making his frame as large as possible and forcing her to take a step back. When Lilah didn't make a surprised expression, he held her gaze in an irritatingly intense lock, but she seemed to not even blink at the challenge. After another moment, he stepped away, skirting around her, not even bothering to listen in to the muttered cursing she was doing as he left her abode.
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ofthemuses · 5 years
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True Detective Sentence Meme: Season One (another of my favorites, well, the first season at least.)
WARNING: Triggering content, NSFW content, religion/death/violence/sex/drugs/suicide mentioned. Lots of foul language 
Regular Quotes
I'd consider myself a realist, alright? But in philosophical terms I'm what's called a pessimist...
Oh, just a regular type dude... with a big ass dick.
People out here, it's like they don't even know the outside world exists. Might as well be living on the fucking Moon.
It's all one ghetto man.
Stop saying shit like that. It's unprofessional.
So what's the point of getting out of bed in the morning?
I tell myself I bear witness, but the real answer is that it's obviously my programming. And I lack the constitution for suicide.
Let's make the car a place of silent reflection from now on.
Can I ask you something? You're a Christian, yeah?
I know who I am. And after all these years, there's a victory in that.
Can you get pills pretty easy?
Listen, when you're at my house, I want you to chill the fuck out.
There's nothing I can do about it. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but... I'm gonna have a drink.
Given how long its taken for me to reconcile my nature, I can't figure I'd forgo it on your account.
Hmm. That sounds God-fucking-awful.
Isn't that a beautiful way to go out, painlessly as a happy child?
Trouble with dying later is you've already grown up. The damage is done. It's too late.
I can be hard to live with. I don't mean to, but I can be... critical.
Sometimes I think I'm just not good for people, that it's not good for them to be around me. 
Such holy bullshit from you. It's a woman's body, ain't it? A woman's choice.
Girls walk this Earth all the time screwin' for free. Why is it you add business to the mix and boys like you can't stand the thought? I'll tell you. It's cause suddenly you don't own it the way you thought you did.
Is shitting on any moment of decency part of your job description?
Nothing man, sorry, forget it.
You got some self loathing to do this morning, that's fine, but it ain't worth losing your hands over.
What's your deal?
I don't have "a deal".
You're kinda strange, like you might be dangerous.
Of course I'm dangerous. I'm police. I can do terrible things to people with impunity.
Now what do you mean exactly... these visions you mentioned.
Shiiiiit, just what have you two heard about me?
What the hell good is cake if you can't eat it?
You know, throughout history, I bet every old man probably said the same thing. And old men die, and the world keeps spinnin'.
What do you think the average IQ of this group is, huh?
Just observation and deduction. I see a propensity for obesity. Poverty. A yen for fairy tales.
I think it's safe to say nobody here's gonna be splitting the atom.
You see that. Your fucking attitude. 
 Not everybody wants to sit alone in an empty room beating off to murder manuals.
Yeah, well if the common good's gotta make up fairy tales, then it's not good for anybody.
Well, I don't use ten dollar words as much as you, but for a guy who sees no point in existence, you sure fret about it an awful lot.
I mean, can you imagine if people didn't believe, what things they'd get up to?
Exact same thing they do now. Just out in the open.
Bullshit. It'd be a fucking freak show of murder and debauchery and you know it.
If the only thing keeping a person decent is the expectation of divine reward, then brother that person is a piece of shit; and I'd like to get as many of them out in the open as possible.
Well, I guess your judgment is infallible, piece-of-shit-wise.
You figure it's all a scam, huh? All them folks? They just wrong?
People incapable of guilt usually do have a good time.
Do you wonder ever if you're a bad man?
World needs bad men. We keep the other bad men from the door.
But I think I'm all fucked up.
You don't have to fall in love at first sight, you know.
Every time I think you've hit a ceiling, you, you keep raising the bar. You're like the Michael Jordan of being a son of a bitch.
Fuuuck! Hell of a bedside manner you've got.
Ahh, you know, being stupid is different than going in sick, and this is a bar, not a fuckin' bedside.
All the dick swagger you roll, you can't spot crazy pussy?
So, enough with the self-improvement-penance-hand-wringing shit. Let's go to work.
Oh God damn it, I am so done talking to you like a man.
What the fuck you think I want with you, huh?
I'm sorry. What are you suggesting, exactly?
I will skull-fuck you, you bitch!
This is none of my business... I don't want to hear it.
Do you know the good years when you're in them, or do you just wait for them until you get ass cancer?
What always happens between men and women? Reality.
Someone once told me time is a flat circle.
The newspapers are gonna be tough on you.
No, buddy, without me... there is no you.
Yeah. Fuck this. Fuck this world.
You know, people that give me advice, I reckon they're talking to themselves.
A man's game charges a man's price. Take that away from this, if nothing else.
I'm the person least in the need of counseling in this entire fucking state.
Thought maybe we should talk.
If you get the opportunity, you should kill yourself.
Hey, man, look. Why don't you just get out of here, please? I don't want to get arrested. Just - just get... before I do something to you.
I slept with someone... And you know him/her... You're close.
Oh... Now, what-what are you saying?... What - what are you - what the fuck are you saying to me?
Life's barely long enough to get good at one thing. So be careful what you get good at.
If you were drowning, I'd throw you a fuckin' barbell.
Why would I ever help you?
Hey. You better get those jumper cables ready, the motherfucker is lying.
Get on out of here, you're classin' the place up.
My family's been here a long, long time.
He ain't gonna talk with you.
I got a car battery and two jumper cables argue different.
A man remembers his debts.
Fuck, I don't like this place... Nothing grows in the right direction.
What happened in my head is not something that gets better.
Well you know what, I just got here; I was gonna leave, but then you woke up - Jesus, what's your fuckin' problem?
Not a care in the world.
I'm not supposed to be here.
Yeah... well, I'll come back by tomorrow, buddy.
Don't ever change, man.
Agh. Ah, fuck. Ah, he got me pretty good...
Do I strike you as a talker or a doer?
You'll rip out your fucking stitches. Stop it.
This is the place.
Everybody's got a choice, ____... Shit, I sure blamed you.
There you go... Everybody's got a choice.
It's hard to find something in a man who rejects people as much as you do, you know that?
Come die with me, little priest.
The DEEP SHIT™
I think human consciousness is a tragic misstep in evolution.
There can be a burden in authority, in vigilance, like a father's burden.
I think the honorable thing for our species to do is to deny our programming. Stop reproducing, walk hand in hand into extinction - one last midnight, brothers and sisters opting out of a raw deal. 
This place is like somebody's memory of a town, and the memory is fading.
I contemplate the moment in the garden; the idea of allowing your own crucifixion.
I don't sleep, I just dream. 
You got kids? I think of the hubris it must take, to yank a sole out of nonexistence into this meat; a force of life into this thresher.
I know who I am. And after all these years, there's a victory in that.
Yeah, back then, the visions, yeah most of the time I was convinced... Shit... I'd lost it. But there were other times... I thought I was mainlining the secret truth of the universe.
I mean, it's like somethin's got your name on it, like a bullet or a nail in the road...
People... so goddamn frail they'd rather put a coin in the wishing well than buy dinner.
This... This is what I'm talking about. This is what I mean when I'm talkin' about time, and death, and futility.
They welcomed it... not at first, but... right there in the last instant. It's an unmistakable relief. See, cause they were afraid, and now they saw for the very first time how easy it was to just... let go.
All your life--you know, all your love, all your hate, all your memories, all your pain--it was all the same thing. It was all the same dream, a dream that you had inside a locked room, a dream about being a person.
And like a lot of dreams, there's a monster at the end of it.
You see, we all got what I call a life trap - a gene deep certainty that things will be different...
Nothing's ever fulfilled, not until the very end. And closure - nothing is ever over.
I have seen the finale of thousands of lives, man. Young, old, each one so sure of their realness. You know that their sensory experience constituted a unique individual with purpose and meaning. So certain that they were more than biological puppet. The truth wills out, and everybody sees. Once the strings are cut, all fall down.
In eternity, where there is no time, nothing can grow. Nothing can become. Nothing changes. So Death created time to grow the things that it would kill.
And you are reborn, but into the same life that you've always been born into. I mean, how many times have we had this conversation? Well, who knows?
When you can't remember your lives, you can't change your lives, and that is the terrible and the secret fate of all life. You're trapped by that nightmare you keep waking up into.
I can see your soul at the edges of your eyes. It's corrosive, like acid. 
Sometimes... this feeling like life has slipped through your fingers... like the future is behind you, like it's always been behind you.
There's a shadow on you, son.
I saw you in my dream. You're in Carcosa now with me... He sees you... You'll do this again... Time is a flat circle.
There's no such thing as forgiveness. People just have short memories.
All my life I wanted to be nearer to God. But the only nearness - silence.
Some people, no matter where they look, they see themselves.
You see, sometimes people... mistake a child as an answer for something, you know, like a way to change their story.
Look, as sentient meat, however illusory our identities are, we craft those identities by making value judgments: everybody judges, all the time. Now, you got a problem with that... You're livin' wrong.
Once there was only dark. If you ask me, the light's winning.
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Guardian Angel - Chapter 3
Summary: Virgil, sick of always dying and being resurrected again, decides to finally work out a way to end it for good. The only problem- he left Patton alone and depressed. Virgil makes it his goal to keep Patton alive until the time comes for him to join Virgil in the land of the dead.
If you missed: Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2
Warnings: Suicide mention, crying, minor mention of eating disorder
(If there any more, please tell me!)
Word Count: 1.8k
Pairings: Royality, eventual Moxiety
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Virgil
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The bus driver snitched.
Based on the evidence given—what the driver saw, the time, the circumstances—they figured out that it was suicide. They even looked for a note. There wasn't one, of course. But then, they started questioning my friends. Well, and Demitri.
The asshole himself sits uninterested in the office chair, one leg crossed over the other, his eyes wandering around as if he'd rather be anywhere else. I lean on the wall to listen; the information might be interesting. 
"Did you notice anything off about his behaviour in the weeks prior to his death?"
Demitri huffs. If you wanted, you could play it up just a little more, I think. "I don't know. I never really talked to him because I wanted to. He was just there. If we're being honest—" Oh, ha ha, Mister Deceit over here, "—he was kind of a wimp." My wings give an irritated flap at that, but because I'm used to it from him, it's easier to blow off. Doesn't make me hate him any less, though.
"So he wouldn't have told you anything about what he was planning?" 
"No. We hated each other. I really don't think I can make that more clear. He acted like he thought he was so much better than me." Oh, that's just gold. "Listen, can you just call in one of the others? I'm bored, and I have no information."
The officer sighs. "We can move on for now. But you must be prepared if you're questioned again in the future." She drags her pen down her notepad and then taps it. "Can you bring Logan Crofter in as you leave?"
"Yeah, sure," Dee says, pushing himself to his feet. A smile breaks out on his lips as he leaves. He just flicks Logan's glasses, saying, "you're up."
Logan fixes his now askew glasses and stands up. None of them had been told exactly why they'd been called. All they know is that they're being questioned. Until they walk in and sit down, they don't know what about. I don't know if I like that better or worse than just telling them outright before they came. Patton looks a little stressed, but not excessively upset, though, which is a bonus.
As he walks into the office, Logan is tucked into himself. Giving the officer a small nod, he sits down and awkwardly places his hands in his lap, gaze wandering to his curled fingers. He was never good at eye contact anyway. 
"Mr. Crofter," the officer says. Logan flinches, and his face falls just slightly more.
"Good afternoon, ma'am."
The officer goes about carefully explaining exactly why Logan is actually here. He actually lifts his eyes to meet hers, almost as if silently begging her to say she's lying. I can tell how hard he's trying to keep himself from crying. 
"I didn't realize that he was... going through that," Logan whispers. I can hear the quiver in his voice, even at the low volume. I step forward and place my hand on his shoulder. He moves up into my phantom touch. I don't know if I'm cold or warm, but just the distant contact seems to relax him just the littlest bit.
"So you hadn't noticed any significant changes in his behaviour?"
Logan bites his lip. "I didn't. He always acted so happy. It was always him who would cheer us up." Then, his eyes drop back to his shoes, and he lifts a hand to lay on his arm, right near where my hand sits on his shoulder. I shift so that my fingers overlap with his. He crumples when he tries to say something else. "I'm sorry, I-I... Can I come back another time?"
They definitely should have told them before they got here. I kneel in front of Logan, reaching up to wipe tears from his cheeks. He blinks at my touch, which I'm starting to understand has a sort of soothing effect to people in the overworld.
The officer nods, dismissing him. She's starting to understand her error too. "Send in the last two, okay?" she asks. As Logan turns to leave, she brings her fist to her mouth, thinking. I reach out and brush Logan's arms with one wing as he steps through the doorway. He tells the other to come inside, and then keeps walking with hardly a glance back.
---
Patton and Roman hadn't been questioned. The officer, learning from the error of her ways, only told them the news, leaving the questioning for a later date. Patton had reacted dismally, collapsing into himself and sobbing into Roman's chest as his boyfriend rubbed his back reassuringly. Roman looked more reserved, but I'm sure that was for Patton's sake, because his expression was strained the entire time they were there, and his reassuring smile was forced on the drive to Patton's house.
When he got home, Patton didn't wait before making a beeline straight for the stairs, looking drained as he crawled onto his bed. All his tears had already run out, and he just sat, tucked into himself as he shivered. I sat with him for awhile, until he finally went to sleep—without accepting his mom's offer for dinner. I hardly have time to worry if he's going to stop eating again when a little light shoots into the air above his head.
It doesn't do anything. Just hovers there, right over Patton. I lift a finger and poke at it, and when I connect with it, it expands ever so slightly, showing a grainy image of a grassy hill. I reach out and press it to my palm, and it grows bigger yet, until it's matched the height of my hand, heel to the tip of my middle finger.
I can see Patton inside when I squint. He's wandering through the field; the grass is up to his hips, and he runs his fingers through it as he walks, staring bewildered at the sky. Is this his dream? I lean forward to see better, and the light grows bigger again, this time to the size of my torso. I reach out, and my arm moves through it—no, inside it. 
After a few seconds of contemplation, I lift myself up into the air, and the dream portal grows to accommodate my size as I fly through. I have to shield my eyes for a few second because it's so much brighter now that I'm actually inside. The dream is warm, ignoring the continuity of the real world. I guess it doesn't have to make sense.
A run-down shed sits on top of the hill, and I soar down to land next to it. The wood is splintery and extremely dry when I press my fingers to it. If it weren't for the tall grass, I'd say it never rains around here. 
Okay, again, you're trying to analyze the logistics of a dream, I tell myself. 
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Patton turn around. Instinctively, I swiftly turn the corner. I don't know what compelled me to hide from him, but a growing feeling of dread keeps me from revealing myself. What would happen if he did see me in his dream? What would he think in the overworld? Would it make him feel better or worse? 
As if sensing my turmoil, the dream portal reappears as a tiny dot in front of me. I press my hand against it and fly through.
---
Patton
---
I could have sworn I saw a wing.
Maybe it was my eyes playing tricks on me, but it looked like there were feathers moving around the wood of the shed. I stare for a few seconds and nothing happens. No movement, no sound. My fingers move absentmindedly through the grass at my sides, enjoying the soft feeling.
This place makes me feel... happy. Distantly, I know its not real. But I decide to pretend, for now. An overwhelming calm has enveloped me, and I just want to bask in it for one more moment...
And then the moment is gone.
My alarm clock wakes me from my sleep. I don't even know why it was set, but I trudge across the room and turn it off. For good measure, I even tug the cord from the socket. I haven't been using the clock, it's not like I've been going to school. Tears force their way into my eyes, and I shove the heels of my hands into them, frustrated with myself. It was a dream. It was going to end anyways.
I just stand at my dresser for a few minutes, in a dazed state of half-sleep. I start to think that maybe I can slip back into the dream, but quickly will the thought away and lean down to open my drawer, pulling on a hoodie. The alarm had gone off at four am. I decide I'm not getting back to sleep and instead take a walk, hoping I can clear my head. 
It really has been dreadful the past couple weeks. By not going to school, I'm subjecting myself to hours and hours of time where I have nothing at all to do. My friends can't even visit, because they're actually going to school. I don't know how easily I could take it, especially after I just learned what happened to Virgil, but the aspect of another day spent on the couch, flicking through the channels to find something that I won't even watch—
I didn't know I was going to Roman's house. My feet brought me here by their own volition. An overwhelming urge to feel his arms around me has me moving to the door. He told me I could come in without knocking, especially if it's this early. I don't want to wake up his parents, so I press my spare key into the lock and open the door quietly.
The door to his room is cracked open, as usual, and I slide in, shutting it again when I'm inside. The single strand of light from the dimly lit hallway leads to the foot of his bed, and I follow it, carefully pressing my fingers onto Roman's forehead. 
His eyes flutter open, and he recognizes the pressure, shifting so that there's room on the bed for me. Wordlessly, we readjust ourselves until we're comfortable, his arms wrapped around me—just like I'd wanted—and my head pressed just under his chin. I curl my fingers in the fabric of his sleep shirt.
"I'm gonna try school again tomorrow." I don't know why that's the first thing that comes out of my mouth, but I can feel Roman smiling.
"That's wonderful," he whispers. "Because I missed you." He moves his head to press a soft kiss to my forehead, and I huddle closer into him. 
We don't say anything else. I find it much easier to fall asleep with him nearby.
I don't go back to my dream.
---
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ticklesandstuff · 5 years
Text
Valentine’a Day
Tw: self harm, suicidal ideation
I know a lot of people don’t like this day but I do, at least this year I do.
I’m single but I’m not exactly ready to mingle because at this point in time, I really only want to love myself.
I can’t help but think about how last year, right at this time, my life was so different.
A friend from the community took me out for a nice dinner and I had a wonderful time. I wore a cute dress, ate at a wonderful place I never dreamed I could and got my shit wrecked. I was happy.
Two days later I called off work, binge ate all days and seriously contemplated taking my own life. I don’t know why I didn’t. Fear? Maybe. But I like to think I had enough hope that things would get better. That I would get better.
And with some help, they did.
Am I healed? No of course not. Depression doesn’t just go away. It lurks and it waits. But the good news is, I’m learning to combat it in healthier ways than self harm, than eating til I vomit or pushing people all the way away.
I learned my life is worth living. That if I did something so foolish, no one would be relieved or happy. I would leave heartache in my wake.
I’m learning that I’m pretty okay. I’m learning to not hate myself. I’m learning to not talk shit about myself. Piece by piece I’m learning.
So this year, my Valentine is myself because goddamnit, I’m gonna love myself.
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schwiftit-blog · 6 years
Note
Hiiiiiiii! I was wondering if you could do an image where Rick finds out the reader has depression/suicidal thoughts. Thank you!
Major trigger warning for suicidal contemplation, “casual” suicidal thoughts, and over all harsh topics. This fic is pretty long too, so hopefully its still what you were looking for. Enjoy and thanks for the request!!
>>>
You’re what the kids are dubbing now as casually suicidal. Well, more specifically you were depressed with casual suicidal thoughts. You couldn’t believe the term when you googled your symptoms: The constant just do it, you can end it right now paired with the delicate why not? why not just jump off the edge, put your hand on the burner, throw yourself out the car, grab the knife, slice––
These intrusive thoughts would be less worrying if they came at appropriate times. They surfaced after a normal day, while you ate dinner, or when you were driving. They popped out during the most normal of times and that was when you realized you were beginning to normalize them. They were as part of everyday life as was brushing your teeth or even sleeping. 
And somehow, you always managed to ignore these…Urges. These babbling, compulsive thoughts that, at the time, don’t seem too abnormal. Until you start scrawling down how many of these particular thoughts you’re having a day. 
The journal is worn out, something you snagged from the discount bookstore from downtown. The front and back are an mottled light brown. There’s a small drawstring that slips around it so you can tie it up. There was no spiral spine, the paper a bit thicker than printer. It fit in the palm of your hand, almost mimicking the small size of a planner. The journal was a few bucks, a cheap steal really. You picked a blue ballpoint pen to go along with it and thus began your journey of journal keeping.
If you just ended it now, you won’t have to deal with traffic ever again. 2
Why not just do it to…Do it? 1
Each time you had one of these thoughts, you would quickly jot it down when you had the chance. Next to it, you’d rate the level of motivated you felt to actually commit the action. Most of these thoughts stayed within the 1-4 range of “seriousness”. However, some days the thoughts were blunter, harsher, and you found yourself jotting down a 7 or an 8. Never had you had a 9 or 10 thankfully.
Once you began filling pages with these thoughts, you realized just how in deep you were. 
>>
Somewhere along the line you decided telling Rick about these thoughts would be a Very Bad Idea and therefore, plan Very Bad Idea was marked off the list of “things to do about this issue”. You knew you needed to take action, to be properly diagnosed, you even had the journal to show you were actively taking part in recognizing these thoughts.
However, at some point, the journal became something too personal to ever share with anyone and so, began the real mission: Keep the Journal from Rick.
Rick Sanchez was an extremely nosy person, for that you were certain. The genius was not only a master of deduction, but also a mastermind at observing the little signal people shared about their lives. So, it is when you are sitting in your apartment, knees curled up to your chest and journal out, that Rick of course decides to portal in. Unannounced.
Completely unannounced. 
You scramble to throw the book under your covers, but before you can Rick is stumbling forward with his flask in hand and coat whipping wildly behind him whilst the portal shrinks away. You know you look a deer in headlights and Rick decides to just––
“S-Shit babe, you seen a ghost or what?” He asks, words slurring and feet unstable. He collapses on the bed, face in your lap and long limbs dangling off the edge of your bed. He kicks off his shoes with squirming difficulty, a sure sign he plans to stay a while and bug you. Probably even sleep over if he’s drunk enough to pass out.
Do drunk comas count as sleepovers? You’d like to think so.
The book is plastered to Rick’s cheek and somehow he is still unaware of it, or rather simply, he probably doesn’t care. With a calm motion you run your fingers through his hair and hope you can slip it from his face and slide it to the edge of the bed.
Operation: Out of Sight, Out of Mind is a go. 
Your fingers graze the edge of the pages.
“No, but I am seeing sorosis right in my lap.” You counter, tugging not even an inch of the book out.
He shifts.
“Oh, one of those moods, huh ba-babe?” Rick rolls his eyes, then meets yours with a drunken grin spattering his face. “I know just how to fix that up.”
Long fingers begin to scour your stomach, lightly leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You squirm, unable to move due to the journal and Rick’s weight on you. He sits up a touch, craning his neck to press a kiss, then a bit to your lower abdomen. You suck in a harsh breath before he sits up and––
The pages stick to his cheek and then plop onto the sheets. Rick’s eyes land on it and you know its downhill from there. In half a heartbeat the mood in the room shifts from sexually-tense to stressfully-tense. Rick reads over the words, the numbers, feeling the thickness of the filled out pages.
“What is––What the fuck is this shit?” He asks you, half serious, half kidding. Like he thinks this is maybe a college project or perhaps a coding system for one of your other more obscure hobbies.
“Its, uh, well I mean…” Your hand goes to your neck and that is a definite sign to Rick that this is what it looks like.
“What do the numbers mean.” It isn’t a question, but rather a demand. The words grinding out and, most alarmingly, without a stutter.
You hang your head in shame for a moment, eyes not daring meet Rick’s again. “How…Close I got to trying out whatever thought…I had?” The words get stuck coming out, but they eventually do.
Rick’s quiet and you hear the constant flip of pages before a bony hand is lifting your chin. The grip is firm and near painful leaving you no choice but to look up. This was turning out to be just as painful as you thought it would be.
“Op-Open up,” Rick mumbles, his other hand grabbing something you can’t see. Cool metal is pressed to your lips a second later and not too long after that the searing burn of whiskey is choking you. You take the drink in stride for a moment before sputtering, residual alcohol slipping down your chin and your sinuses on fucking fire. “Thats it…G-Good girl, alright, alright, enough. I can’t take your sniffling, its just a-alcohol. Sheesh.”
You sat with your back against the wall, your hands fisting the sheets while you waited for Rick’s next move. Already you could feel the liquor in your toes and the warmth was spreading from your chest. 
“I’m not gonna––There’s no magic lesson here, alright?” He leans back on one hand, drinking more from his flask with the other. Drool settles on his chin and you watch it as he leans forward and points at your chest. His finger just continues on until it is jabbing you right where you think he thinks your heart is. Rick is only a little off, to cut the guy some slack at least. 
“But you can’t be––Y-You can’t obsess over this shit. People, their brains, trust me. Sometimes they’re fucking just not working, you know? And we have––There is t-this whole fucking universe spanning around us, and yet…W-W-We have thoughts against ourselves like that.” Rick was becoming slightly more animated as he spoke, beginning with gestures and eventually shifting so he was in your personal space.
You nod for lack of words to say, your shoulders slowly losing their tension.
“And the fucking benefit to it all is b-babe, you’re with Rick Sanchez!” He finishes off, like it makes any sense. “Y-You wanna ge-get these feelings out of your system? W-W-Well we can. We fucking can and with no fucking repercussions because I just want to give that big ol’ fuck you to the universe. Loopholes bitch, now th-thats what we’re all about.”
“I don’t…Understand?” You ask, voice apprehensive.
“Tonight, we’re gonna lay low. Eat that pussy, get you all boneless and relaxed. Tomorrow we’re g-going to head out to one of my favorite spots along the galaxy. You’ll see. Trust me.”
And you do, because if Rick was good at one thing, it was earning people’s trust. 
“Now here, t-t-the only real cure for this shit is liquor so…Drink up.”
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tellerford-mayhem · 6 years
Text
Americano: No hablo su Jesus Cristo Chapter 3
Masterlist
Ship: Chibs x OC
Word Count: 2,500 Words
Synopsis: Isa learns that the Sons may not have been involved in the death of her father.
Rating: M
Warnings: Strong Language, Mentions of Death and Suicide
A/N: As promised, here is part 3!! Next part, which I have already started features a very different dynamic in the relationship between Isa and Chibs as he comes to terms with what she means to him.
Her POV
Isa hadn't seen SAMCRO in 2 weeks, which she had found rather odd, but at the same time she felt relieved. She had hoped something fell through and the tribe was no longer selling to them. However, when she heard a group of bikes approaching that day, her heart sank. She walked outside and saw them park in front of her house. Chibs smiled at her as he took off his helmet. She rolled her eyes and stormed through them. “If looks could kill…” she heard Tig day under his breath.
She huffed and continued walking until she got to Wolf Tamer’s house. She knocked loudly on the door. “Wolf, let's go!”
He stepped outside in his boxers and shielded his eyes from the sun. He saw the bikes outside her house, so he knew why she was there. “Can you wait until I am dressed?”
She nodded and stepped inside. “We are going to Oakland.”
“Why?” She heard him ask from down the hallway.
“I'm not supposed to be here while SAMCRO is here, and I don't want to be followed while I'm alone, again.”
“You were followed?” He asked as he walked towards her while pulling a shirt over his head.
“Jax had his Scottish Bulldog follow me into Charming. They don't trust me because my uncle is Alvarez.”
He grabbed a hat off the kitchen table. “I'll tag along. Why are we going to Oakland today?”
She smiled as they walked to her car. Chibs and Tig watched her as she climbed into the driver’s seat. “To make them nervous,” she said as they backed down the driveway.
“Please don’t get me killed,” he said, looking back at the biker who was close behind them.
Chibs POV
He watched her walk into Wolf Tamer’s house and instantly grew uncomfortable. He kept a close eye on the door, waiting for her to storm back out. He heard movement coming from there before the two of them walked out and past their bikes. He heard her mention Oakland before getting into her car, smiling at them. “Shite,” he said under his breath.
“Where’s she going?” Tig asked.
“Tell Jax I’ve gotta run.”
“Chibs!” he called after him as Chibs sped away.
He followed at a distance. As soon as he entered Mayan territory, he pulled over and removed his patch; anything to lessen his chances of being spotted. He watched as they pulled into the same driveway as a few weeks ago. She got out of her car and hugged her uncle who met her in the driveway. He watched Wolf Tamer get out of the car and shake Alvarez’s hand. He sat against his bike, watching carefully until he felt the cool of a gun touch the back of his neck. “You’re a long way from home,” said a voice from behind him.
“Aye, and yer treadin’ in dangerous waters.” He put his hands up and slowly turned around. He was face to face with one of the Mayans. “Don’t worry. I’m not here for Alvarez.”
“I’m well aware. I saw you following his sobrina.”
“I’m not followin’ her,” he lied, “I’m followin’ her friend.”
“Either way, you’re awfully brave heading down into Mayan territory alone.”
“Pedro, lo dejó ir.” Her voice was a blessing. It gave Chibs a chance to find a way to escape.
“Ha estado siguiéndote todo este tiempo,” he said.
Chibs dropped his hands and turned around. Isa was standing behind them with her arms crossed. She looked sufficiently annoyed. “Lo sé. Le pedí que lo hiciera.”
Pedro shook his head and dropped his gun. “He stays here until you leave.”
She walked confidently towards him. “He can go wherever I damn well tell him to, Pedro. Now go inside before I have another conversation with Uncle Marcus.”
“Ten cuidado, princesa.”
She waited until he was out of earshot before she said something to Chibs. “I’m not going to tell my uncle anything. Go home.”
“Not gonna happen, mo leannan.”
She pushed him backwards. “Go home, Chibs!”
“Isa!” Marcus called to her from across the street. He drew his gun. “What is he doing here?”
“Ay dios mio. I had him follow me!”
“Why?”
“Why? Porque estás trabajando con el diablo.”
“So you hired SAMCRO?”
“Yes. I don’t trust your new partner, so I can’t ask one of our guys.”
He rubbed his hand across his face before looking at Chibs. “You realize if anything happens to her…”
“I know.” Chibs said.
Alvarez looked between his niece and the Scot. Anger and hatred welled in his eyes. “Diana has dinner ready, Isa, let’s go.”
“I’ll be right in, Tio.”
She turned back to Chibs. “Looks like you’re stuck here, now,” she smiled. “But when we get back to the rez, we are going to talk.”
“I’m countin’ down the hours, lass.” He said with a wink.
“Bleh.” she turned and headed back in.
Chibs watched her walk away. Despite the fact he was doing something they normally give to the Prospect, he was glad his tail was something sweet to look at. He grabbed his cellphone and sent Jax a text telling him that he followed her to Oakland to her uncle’s home and that he was stuck there until she left.
Her POV
She peered through the curtain to see him leaning against his bike, smoking. Wolf and her uncle were still sitting at the table, full from dinner. She had made him wait all afternoon while she spent time with her family. Her aunt came up from behind her and said softly, “Nunca he visto a Marcus tan molesto por SAMCRO.”
She turned to Diana. “Si lo supieras, tía.”
Wolf was leaning back smiling as he continued talking with Alvarez. It was like when she was younger and her parents would bring her over to Uncle Marcus and Aunt Diana’s home for holidays. They would allow her to bring Wolf so she had someone to talk to. None of her cousins were her age, so she had no one to play with or keep her occupied. Marcus was as much his uncle as he was hers. “He’s grown up quite nicely.” She turned back to the window. “But this one out here…” She looked back at her. “He’s not half bad either.”
Isa shook her head. “The Scot outside can go fuck himself.”
“Isa…”
“Don’t worry. I’d tell him that to his face, and as for Wolf…”
She rested her hand on her niece’s arm. “I’m only giving you a hard time. Come with me and help me fix dessert.”
Isa followed her aunt into the kitchen. “Your uncle tells me that you want to move back to Oakland.”
“I do,” she said as she poured another glass of wine. “I can’t live on the rez anymore. I love my family there, but I miss it here.”
Diana sighed. “I remember before your mother’s accident, she made me promise to her to watch over you. She wanted you out of this life and as far away from the Mayans and SAMCRO as you could get. If you moved back here, you’d only be in deeper.”
“It doesn’t matter where I live, this life will follow me. Literally. Have you noticed the biker sitting outside?”
She grabbed plates out of the cabinet. “Look at what has happened to your family. Your sister is gone; your brother is dead; and then there’s your parents. This life killed your parents. You are all that is left of Mateo and Aiyana.”
“I am not leaving this life until SAMCRO feels my pain,” she said.
“Isa, what are you planning?”
“I don’t know, yet, but I can’t rest until I’ve avenged my father.”
Diana shook her head. “Is that why he’s following you? They know you're up to something?”
“Why they're following me doesn't matter. They don't trust me because of who I'm related to.”
“They aren't following anyone else, so why you?”
Isa contemplated on telling her aunt their relationship with the Wahewa, but she knew if SAMCRO found out, they'd kill her. “I guess because I live too close to Charming for comfort.” She hated lying to her aunt, but it was something she had grown accustomed living this style of life.
“Please be careful. MCs are dangerous. If our crew finds out, this is going to put you right in the crossfire.”
“I can handle myself, Tia Diana.”
Diana handed her a plate of Tres Leches Cake. “Serve this to your uncle.”
Isa picked up another plate for Wolf. Her aunt handed her two extra plates when she came back into the kitchen. “I’m sure your tail is hungry.”
“I’m not taking him anything.”
“Es hora de hacer la paz con el pasado, Isa.”
“I will when the person responsible for my father’s death feels my pain.”
Diana sighed. “If you don’t take this to him, I will.”
Isa rolled her eyes and took the two plates outside. Chibs was sitting on the curb next to his bike, smoking a cigarette. “Oy, Cabrón, aquí esta su postre.”
He smiled and put out his light. “Thank ye, lass. I was getting a wee bit famished sittin’ out here.”
“Don’t start thinking I actually care about you. My aunt made me bring this to you.”
He grabbed the plate from her and began to dig in. She stood across from him and ate her dessert. “Finish the dessert and go back to the rez.”
“Look, Lass, I ken that ye aren’t gonna say anything, but you and I need to have a talk about yer da’.”
She stopped eating and glared at him. “No, we don’t.” She took the plate away from him and stormed back across the street. She found her aunt, uncle, and friend sitting around the table enjoying her uncle’s favorite dessert. “I think it’s time we head home, Wolf.”
He finished his last bite and took his plate into the kitchen. “Marcus, Diana, it’s always great seeing you two. Thanks again, for dinner!”
Diana hugged him and Isa. “I’m so happy you were able to come for dinner!”
“Te amo, Sobrina,” Marcus said from his chair.
“Te amo, Tio.”
His POV
They got back to the reservation after SAMCRO had left. Chibs parked his bike behind her car and leaned against the trunk. “Run along, Wolfie. Yer girl and I need to have a talk,” he said, shooing Wolf Tamer away.
“I’ll wait here with her.”
“Wolf, can you wait inside? I’ll holler if I need you.”
He shook his head. “I’ll sit on the porch, but I’m not going inside.”
“Fine.” She crossed her arms and turned to him. “Look, today is the only day I will cover for you in Oakland. I only did it because I wanted a peaceful day with my family.”
He smiled. “Still. Thank ye, Lass.” He adjusted against the truck and sighed. “We still need to talk about yer da’.”
She grew rigid. “The last thing I want to talk about with you is my father.”
He shook his head. He still had no information to give her, as Otto was still looking into it on his end, but he wanted to at least put the doubt in her mind. “SAMCRO didn’ kill yer da’.”
She looked up at him, anger welling in her eyes. The look cut through him, stinging every fiber in his body. “I have no reason to lie to ye,” he said “I just know we didn’ kill yer da’. We were in talks with him about a peace. We had lost too many, just like the Mayans did, but when Mateo died it sent us right back into the war with them. Someone framed us, Isa.”
She crossed her arms. “How do you know this?”
“I was there.”
“Then who killed him? Who carved the Anarchy ‘A’ into the middle of his chest and left him to bleed out on his bathroom floor?”
“I dinna ken, Lass. Tha’ I’m still trying to figure out for ye.”
“Or you’re trying to cover it up for your club.”
He shook his head and took a drag of his cigarette. “Just think about it, will ye? Why would our club kill yer da’ if we were tryin’ to make peace with ‘im?”
She looked over to Wolf who was watching them intently. “I think it’s time for you to leave.”
“Think about it. I’m sure I’ll see ye in a couple of weeks.”
“Great.” She quickly turned and stormed past Wolf with tears in her eyes.
Wolf looked between the two of them and glared at Chibs. “She might need some of yer comfort,” Chibs said motioning to the house.
“I get why my tribe trades with you, but you don’t need to be here.” He stood tall as he approached the Scot. “You aren’t going to follow her anymore; you aren’t going to come around her anymore; and you certainly aren’t going to talk to her about Mateo anymore.”
“Is tha’ right?” Chibs took a step towards him. “Well, maybe I intend to find out who really killed her da’ so she can ‘ave peace o’ mind. After which, I’ll kick yer red, Indian arse for even thinkin’ about tellin’ me what ta do.”
Wolf stared at him. “You think that because you’re some big, bad biker that you can walk over anyone. I’m not going to let you do that to Isa. She’s been through enough, and I swear if you don’t leave her alone, my red, Indian arse will be kicking your pale, Scottish one back to where it came from.”
Chibs smiled. “Oh, I’m sure ye will,” he said, “tell yer girl I’ll be in touch.”
He stared at the biker as he drove away, angry at the pain he was causing Isa. He knew she was in her room, staring at old pictures of Mateo and Aiyana with their three beautiful children. Wolf had been there through everything: her sister’s suicide, her brother’s overdose, and her parents’ deaths. Isadora had no one left, except aunts and uncles. She was completely and utterly alone, she felt, in her suffering, and there was nothing he could do to help her. All he felt he could do was keep her away from the Scottish prick that was tormenting her by digging up her past. Whether or not the Sons killed Mateo didn’t matter. Chibs was bringing up something that she didn’t want to think about.
As Chibs drove away, all he could think about was the look on her face. Doubt. It was there. She knew the Sons didn’t kill her father, but they were the closest Mayan enemy she could think of to blame them. He didn’t know why it bothered him, but he didn’t want her to think of him as a cold-blooded murderer. He wanted her to see his club and him in a better light, and he was going to make damn sure she did.
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hannahindie · 7 years
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Not What She Seems-Chapter 17: The One Where Ava Leaves
Characters: Dean Winchester x Ava Walker (OFC), Sam Winchester, Audrey (OFC) Word Count: 2.614 Warnings: Difficult conversations, insinuated suicidal thoughts A/N: This is the second to last chapter in my first fic ever. It’s been a journey, I’ll tell you that. If you haven’t caught up and you love super dark, Criminal Minds-esque fics, the master list is here. IF YOU ARE NOT 18, DO NOT READ THIS. Alright? The master list includes a detailed warning as to why.
Beta’d by the beautiful @trexrambling, who has been with this since I started. Thank you for all of your help, waterbear. “ Straight up chills.”
As always, tags are at the bottom. If you’d like to be added, please let me know!
Summary: Dean calls Audrey but isn’t sure why. Ava finally wakes up and Dean makes her a promise he hopes he can keep. Ava does something she wishes she didn’t have to, and prays that Dean can forgive her.
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Dean dropped the last of the grocery bags into the trunk and slammed it shut. He was still contemplating on whether it had been a good idea to leave Ava alone with Sam and Cas after the conversation they had just had, but he’d needed to get out of the bunker. The assumption that they would wait until he came home may have been a dangerous one, but after all they’d been through, he had finally determined that the choice he’d made had been the right one. He put his hand in his jacket pocket to retrieve his keys when his fingers brushed the folded receipt paper that he had found earlier.
He leaned against the car as he pulled the paper from his pocket and carefully unfolded it.
Hey Deano,
Sometimes you need to remember instead of forget. If you ever need anything, there’s a certain foul mouthed Southern girl that’s willing to listen. Don’t be a stranger.
P.S. There’s an apple pie waiting for you if you’re ever back this direction.
Audrey
He stared at the number at the bottom of the note, the small writing neat and cramped on the narrow piece of paper. He barely registered that he had pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed until he heard the shrill ring as it tried to connect.
“Hello, this is Audrey’s. What can I do ya for?”
Dean cleared his throat, “Audrey?”
“Aww, hey there Deano! You found my note! How’s it goin’, pumpkin?”
Dean chuckled, “Well, it’s been better.” His smile faltered as he thought back to Ava and how frail she’d looked when he left. “Things are weird, Audrey.”
“Honey, what’s goin’ on?”
“It’s a long story. Listen, I’m sorry...I don’t even know why I called.” He climbed into the Impala and put the keys in the ignition but made no move to actually drive away. “I’m sure you’re busy, I’ll give you a call later-”
“Dean Winchester, I can smell bullshit from a mile away. I know I’m not exactly an expert, but I’m damn good at listening. You called me for a reason, even if you don’t want to admit it, and I’m pretty sure it’s not because of my award winning pies. So, are you gonna tell me what’s eating at you, or not?”
For some reason that Dean could not explain, he told her. He told her how they’d gotten this case, to figuring out what Sebastian was trying to do, to rescuing Ava. He told her about Ava, and how strong she was, and what had happened after their night together. Audrey remained silent, humming and interjecting with questions on occasion, but mostly she just listened. By the time Dean finished telling her the entire story, it had felt like a weight had lifted. Both of them remained silent for a moment, and Dean wondered if he’d made a mistake in telling Audrey what had happened.
“Well, Dean, that sure is a shitstorm of suck. So your brother and this...uh….angel, right? This angel, Cas, thinks you’ll need to kill her?”
“Yea...well, in their defense, I don’t think they actually want to. I think Sam has feelings for her and wants to protect her just as much as I do. Cas didn’t seem excited by the idea. But what are we going to do? If Cas is right…” Dean started the car and slowly pulled out of the lot as he waited on Audrey’s response. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting her to say; if none of them had the answer, she wouldn’t either.
“I don’t have a good answer for you. I think you need to wait for her to wake up to know for sure, but I also think Sam and Cas are right. She’s dangerous, she could hurt all of you. I think you need to be careful, but don’t give up on her. Maybe there’s a compromise you could come to so that you not only keep yourselves safe, but also Ava.” She paused as if she were considering her next words very carefully, “She sounds like a very strong woman, and I believe she can maybe fight this. But Dean...you have to be strong, too, and if something changes, if she lets go of her control for even a second...you have to end it. Do you hear me? Use your heart and your mind, but don’t let one overshadow the other.”
“I hear you. Not that it makes me feel much better, but...thanks, Audrey.”
“No problem, kiddo. Let me know if ya’ll need anything...and good luck.”
Dean hung up, unsure if he felt better or worse than before he’d called Audrey. Her response was really no different than what he already had been thinking, or what Cas and Sam had already said. It just felt nice to have someone else who wasn't fully involved to talk to.
He cranked up the radio and sped towards the bunker, Audrey’s words echoing in his mind.
By the time Dean arrived back at the bunker, Cas wasn’t anywhere to be found and the entire place was silent. Dean quickly put the groceries away and went back to his room. He opened the door slowly, half expecting Sam to be on the bed next to Ava. Instead, the younger Winchester was sitting in the chair next to the bed, his long legs stretched out in front of him, fast asleep at what looked to be a very uncomfortable angle.
“Sammy...hey, wake up, man.”
Sam sat up with a jerk, then settled back in the chair when he realized it was Dean. He rubbed a hand across his face, “What time is it?”
“It’s dinner time. There’s stuff in the fridge, we should be good for awhile.” Dean looked at Ava, “Did she wake up at all?”
Sam shook his head, “No, not really. She mumbled your name a couple of times, but she never actually woke up.” He stood up and stretched, then looked at Ava for a long moment before moving his gaze to Dean. “Listen, I’m sorry about earlier...I know we can’t just-”
Dean held his hand up, interrupting him, “I know. I get it. We have to be prepared for the worst. I'm going to fight for her, but I've got to be strong enough to end it. We all do.  Doesn't make it suck any less, but...Cas was right. We were lucky with Jesse. We might not be that lucky again.”
Sam nodded, then walked to the door. He paused as he reached the hall and looked back over his shoulder, “Yell if you guys need anything, okay?” He shut the door behind him, and Dean sighed. He felt bad for Sam. He wasn't having an easy time with this either, but at least Dean was able to be with her; Sam didn't have that luxury.
Dean emptied his pockets, carefully removing Ruby’s knife where he usually stashed it in his jacket, and laid it on his desk. He sat down on the edge of the bed to remove his boots and grimaced as his sudden weight caused the bed to dip. When Ava didn't react, he pulled off his boots and sat them under the bed. He stood and pulled off his shirt, then tossed it in the hamper and began digging through his drawers to find one to sleep in. He was exhausted.
“Dean?” Ava’s voice was quiet, but stronger than what he'd anticipated.
“Hey...how are you feeling?” He sat back down and combed his fingers through her hair, and she smiled at him.
“Like a demon is trying to turn my body into his own personal incubator. Otherwise, I'm feeling pretty good.”
Dean would never cease to be surprised by her sense of humor when she was obviously in pain. “You're a funny girl, you know that?”
Ava shrugged, “I've been told. If you don't laugh you cry, right?” She looked down at her hands, then back up at Dean. Her eyes had lost the laughter that had been there a moment ago. Now they were just filled with sadness. “We can’t fix this...can we?” It came out a whisper, but the pain it held was deafening.
Dean shifted so that he was laying next to her on the bed, his back against the headboard, and pulled her into his side. “Honestly, I don’t know. But I��m going to do everything I can, okay? Sammy and I both. We’ve even got an angel on our side, who else can say that, huh?” He wanted to sound convincing, but he could tell that it had fallen a little flat.
“But if we can’t fix it...it’s going to be bad, right? I don’t know much about what’s going on, but I can feel it. And...and the dreams that I’ve been having, they aren’t me, I know they aren’t. It’s Sebastian. I can’t let myself hurt you and Sam...and you can’t let me go free if there’s a chance I’m going to do something terrible.”
Dean turned to face her and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. Her blue eyes appeared even brighter in the light from his bedside lamp, tears shimmering as she tried to keep from crying. “I am not going to let anything happen to you. We’re going to find a way to fix this without doing anything drastic, okay? Nobody knows for sure that there isn’t a fix.” He gently kissed her forehead, lingering for a moment as he waited for the tightness in his chest to go away. “I’m not going to leave you, no matter what. You believe that, right?”
Ava wrapped her arms around Dean’s waist and rested her chin on his shoulder, her gaze falling behind him to land on the bone-handled knife she’d been looking for earlier. “I believe you,” she whispered, unable to make the same promise to him.
She pulled back and looked at him and wished that she had the time to memorize every single freckle sprinkled across his nose, or how his green eyes shifted from a darker moss to a bright emerald depending on the light. She wanted him to tell her the stories behind his scars, whether they were from hunting or if they happened when he and Sam had had the brief opportunity to actually be kids. She wanted to help them protect the world from monsters...no matter who the monster was.
She leaned in and brushed her lips against Dean’s, almost like a whisper, and he leaned his forehead against hers. “I’m glad we found you, Ava,” Dean said softly.
“So am I.” She curled up into him, and as he pulled a blanket over both of them, she took a deep breath, breathing in the smell of leather and gun oil and mint. She sighed happily and pressed her ear against Dean’s chest, his heartbeat vibrating through her. Her eyelids grew heavy, and she let herself drift off into a dreamless sleep.
Dean woke slowly and gradually rolled over as he reached for Ava. Instead of coming in contact with warm skin, his hand landed on cool sheets. He opened his eyes to find that her side of the bed was empty. He squinted at his watch and groaned; it was four o’clock in the morning. He got up and walked towards the bathroom and was surprised to find that the light was off. He walked back towards his room, then continued past it and made his way to Ava’s.
The door was cracked open, so he gently pushed it wide enough that he could enter. “Ava?” Her desk lamp was on, and other than a few things laying out on the worn desktop, nothing was out of place. Ava was nowhere to be seen. Dean sleepily shuffled over and picked up the piece of paper that was laying out under the lamp. It was folded in half and Dean was written neatly in what he assumed to be Ava’s handwriting. It occurred to him that he’d never really seen her write anything. He flipped it open and his eyes scanned the hurriedly written note.
Dean,
How do I even start this? I’m terrible at these things, and I never have the right words… I’m already rambling.
You saved me. And yes, you saved me from Sebastian, but you also saved me from...well...me. I had allowed myself to live a safe life. I’ve always known deep down that there was something else for me to do, a whole new family out there waiting for me. I’ve never fit in, and now I know why. You literally pulled me out of hell and showed me a life that I would have loved to live.
I know we haven’t known each other long, but you and Sam...you both mean the world to me. There is something about you, Dean, that makes me feel so alive. I don’t know how to say it, or explain it. Maybe it’s too early to say that I love you, but if this isn’t love, it would have grown into that. I don’t know that I believe in love at first sight, or soulmates...but I’d like to believe that you’d be mine.
I’m not sure why I’m saying this now, but I needed you to know. I’m not great with goodbyes. I need you to understand that the last thing I ever wanted to do was to just leave. I wish that I had the time to learn more about you, about myself.
But...this is how I can save you, and Sam. This is how I can help. I can’t let you have this hanging over your head. I don’t want anyone to have to make the choice regarding whether I live or die. It’s not fair, and I won’t put that on you. I won’t put that on anyone.
So...I made the decision for you. It’s time for me to go back to the beginning and end this, once and for all.
I love you, Dean.
The paper shook as Dean read and reread the note twice before it finally sunk in what she planned to do. He raced back to his room and began to dress. “Sam! Sammy!!” He grabbed his phone and threw his jacket on. “Sam!” He reached for Ruby’s knife and realized that it was missing from where he had left it. “Shit! SAM!” He ran down the hall and slammed his fist against Sam’s bedroom door. “Wake up, Sam! Dammit!”
The door flew open, and Sam looked at him with narrow, sleep hazed eyes, “What the hell, Dean? It’s like four in the morning, why are you….are you dressed?”
“Ava is gone.”
Sam’s eyes widened, “What?”
“Ava is gone, and so is Ruby’s knife. It was on my desk when we fell asleep, and now it’s not. So unless you snuck in and took it, Ava has it.”
“Why the hell would she do that? Where’d she go?” Sam grabbed a pair of jeans off his desk chair and quickly pulled on his shoes.
“I don’t freaking know, Sam. Her note...shit, her note said she was going to go back to the beginning and end it.” Dean’s eyes widened, “She’s going back to the warehouse.”
Sam finished buttoning his shirt and grabbed his jacket, “Well, come on! If we hurry, we can catch her. She can’t possibly be that far ahead of us.”
Sam and Dean ran to the Impala, and Dean prayed that they would make it to her in time.
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