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tmr is one of those fandoms i can always turn back to tbh

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OH MAN NOW I HAVE A MUSE FOR THOSE TWO THINGS AS THREAD IDEAS RIP

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oh yeah i got reminded of two things today

one) that thing in clints history where he basically gets strangled by a glader going through the changing

two) my idea abt him getting himself stung near one of the doors (kinda like gally did) when trying to help someone like idk a runner probably

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heyo hopefully ill be back online this weekend but for now ive been feeling like a zombie bc of my meds so i apologize for my inactivity

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        ╳▒░≡჻ ——— ⌠ ♥ ⌡ Clint merely nodded in reply to her statement, not really going to argue. At that point he was thoroughly exhausted, but the adrenaline buzzing through his veins wouldn't allow him to rest. Not after that.

        He was still stuck on the words he'd uttered, he had no idea what they meant in relation to him -- hell as he'd spoken any memory of the night terror had slipped through his fingers. It all was giving him a headache. When she girl spoke again he welcomed the reason to divert his attention.

        ❝ You're uh -- in the Glade. ❞ He blinked a few times, trying to process and figure out what he wanted to say, the panic he’d woken up in thoroughly having jarred his thoughts equilibrium, ❝ You'll probably be shown around eventually, if the guys aren't too paranoid that is. ❞

        Of course they probably would be too paranoid, but he supposed if no one else would he'd be willing to explain some things if he had time. Though after a few moments a thought struck him, && he gave her a questioning look.

        ❝ ... Do you remember your name? ❞

    “ No, no it’s alright. I’ve slept enough for days by now, I think I’ll be fine.”

She leant back against the pillows just to settle, watching him shudder in front of her. Instinct told her to do something to comfort him, but the last thing she wanted was to make him feel worse. Her voice had been hushed, noticing most of the boys settle back down where they had lain. Maybe hold his hand? No, that might just be embarrassing. He’s still shaking though… what was he dreaming about?

Rachel wouldn’t dare ask, if it had that reaction then it had to be painful at least.

    “ Although if you’re still tired… or if you want to talk… where am I?”

There wasn’t much of a chance to stop and think about it before. She was curious, and slightly alarmed but the people sleeping around her told her it had to be at least safe. Why else would everyone be so relaxed?

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His fingers idly messed with a few curls as the other woke up further, && he noted the wince. With a slightly furrowed brow he replied ❝ ‘S about noon. ❞

He grimaced again, squeezing his eyes shut and whining. He didn’t want to wake up. Waking up meant pain in his leg and itching in his rib and just no. “Shuck me,” he mumbled. “What time is it?”

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❝ Yeah. ❞ He nodded some, eyes snapping to the others leg for a moment -- expression even more concerned than before ( if that’s even possible ), as he set the other down on the bed. Still, he answered his question, ❝ I don’t think it would, not completely sure, but I guess it’s just Gally’s oh so flawless logic at work again. ❞

He paused for a few moments then, before turning to the doorway for a moment ❝ ... I’m gonna get you some of that tea. You need it. ❞

“Serious?” he asked. He actually laughed at that, despite the pain still lancing through his leg. For just a second he felt okay–then he shifted minutely in Clint’s arms and winced again. Shuck, that wasn’t good. That hurt. “How would that even work?” he asked, voice suddenly strained.

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Clint motioned to Jeff that this was his time to leave, && the other Med-jack did so without fuss -- leaving the two. Past that he watched the other with concern, nearly wincing himself at how fast Newt bolted down the drink. He knew for a fact it was hot, && he gave the others shoulder a slight squeeze.

❝ Hey -- maybe slow down with that. Don’t need you puking it up or anything. ❞ Another concern with the injury, && its other side affects from the pain.

Lucky for Newt  he’d had the Keeper’s undivided attention, and Jeff had had little to do with his treatment. Alby had made sure of that, specifically ordered that the best of the Med-Jacks treated his new adviser.

He gulped down the tea, barely noticing the scalding heat. The pain in his leg was worse than the burn on his tongue.

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❝ Yeah yeah. ❞ He smirked slightly at that, && with a slight roll of his eye he sat himself down on the grass. Drawing a breath he reveled in the fresh air for the first time since he’d come outside,  a welcomed change from the usual smell of sweat && feet ( among other more unpleasant things ) in the medical part of the Homestead. Clint’s shoulders actually slumped a little then, releasing tension he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

He didn’t want to be around people, and that alone almost made him ask Clint to help him back to the Homestead. But he liked being outside and feeling the sun on his face, so he’d tolerate it a little longer. At least for now. “Sit down,” he told Clint. “You’re blocking the light.” It was teasing, at least the reason was. He didn’t want Clint to tire himself out, wanted him to relax.

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( also i did this while i was gone/finally posted it bc i was working on this for a while tho its not finished )

Can’t hide; Chapter 1

Warnings: Graphic depictions of gore (burns, body horror, dismemberment)

Fandom: The Maze Runner

Next Chapter 

Keep reading

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         ╳▒░≡჻ ——— ⌠ ♥ ⌡ Somehow, luckily, her words -- && her comfort manage to coax him from his waking nightmare. He sits there shivering for a while, releasing a deep breath he hadn't realized he’d been keeping in his lungs when she holds him. Clint is far from alright, in any respect, but despite the occasional broken inhale ( fighting back tears ) he manages to keep himself under control as best he can.

         ❝ I keep hearing her ... whenever I go to sleep or ... or get upset. ❞ He murmurs, not completely aware of his words, trembling, ❝ Screaming for me -- ‘Bastian, Bastian’, and I c-can’t get it to stop ... ❞ He falls for a few moments, before drawing a shuddering breath && giving the best explanation he can given his state❝ They -- they took the Swipe out ... WCKD ... I -- I didn’t escape with the others at first because of my injuries and -- ❞ his voice breaks, ❝ -- there was a glitch or something, when they where removing it and I ... sometimes I can’t remember anything, I think I’m 6 again and t-they’re taking me away ... it -- they shucked up my head, w-worse than would’ve been without the d-damn Swipe ...❞

the girl draws in a rather ragged breath of air at hearing his words, her own nightmares– or rather memories– flooding into her mind once again. she had tried for a number of years to bury all that happened then deep within her, but it never left her and was more prominent when she was forced to work for the very people who had caused her so much pain to help her survive. ❛ i’m– i’m so sorry clint. ❜ for a moment the girl sits in silence fingers still running themselves through his hair in an effort to comfort him. she can feel her throat tighten slightly, but she knows she can’t cry, right now she needs to be the stronghold he can cling to.

❛ the same thing happened to me when i was younger– they killed my dad. he was trying to protect me too, came at them with a rolling pin and they shot him– killed him. ❜ sharing her frighteningly similar experience was an attempt to show him that he wasn’t alone in the pain that wicked had caused, that she understood his pain. ❛ i know nothing i say or do will ever ease the pain– but i want you to know you’re not alone, you’re safe now and i won’t let anything harm you. ❜ brenda leans forward lips brushing lightly against his forehead before her fingers do the same.

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❝ I-I w-want my O-Oma ... ❞ The boy didn’t uncurl, speaking in a manner similar to that of a small child’s -- && heavily accented. He didn’t really process the entirety of the others question, the first half remaining unanswered verbally -- but it became apparent by his words that he most likely didn’t remember anything past the event he was mumbling about.

Clint didn’t continue, a hand gripping the heavily grayed hair on the side of his head tightly as tears continued to drip down his face.

He actually felt relief, stupid as it was, when Clint said that. It wasn’t him. It was a flashback, a night terror just like back in the Glade, only now he was awake. At least now Newt knew something about where those terrors had come from.

“I’m sorry,” he said, taking a step forward. He swallowed. “Do–do you know who I am? Do you want me to do anything?”

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[12:46:24 PM] permesmol: Like i almost forgot the n in Clints name and that would have gone so wrong [12:51:39 PM] ✫ Sans ✫: oh mygod [12:51:55 PM] permesmol: It just shows how [12:52:03 PM] permesmol: Immature I am bc I started to l augh tbh [12:52:08 PM] ✫ Sans ✫: sAME [1:00:19 PM] permesmol: wOW OMG [1:01:05 PM] permesmol: Is it bad I'm just imagining someone texting clint and they typo his name aND JUST "i aM SO FUCKING SORRY B UT I N EED A MINUT E I CANT BREATH" in like a modern au

this has happened in my modern au

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quick warmup doodle of clint just cause

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( oh yeah as soon as i started reading tmr again i got reminded of this verse/plot idea ive had for a while now where basically clint gets stung by a griever somehow probs near one of the doors who knows )

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( alrighty so! i think what im gonna do is queue up 4 replies a day, or at least try!! so i wont get too overwhelmed with the threads i have to do etc. some days some stuff wont get replied to but! ill do my best )

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( im queueing up all my replies n such, some make take longer to get done bc i have to literally

re-read them to figure out whats going on agAIN )