#I WAS WRITING THIS WHILE WATCHING DEATH CURE so finger guns

[http-paprika]

what's left / simon "ghost" riley

part two

zombie-apocalypse!au / pairing simon "ghost riley x female reader / wc 2186 / warnings brief gore, illusions to violence, typical end of the world angst, swearing.

summery ghost is tasked with escorting y/n to edinburgh to help with creating the cure for the zombie outbreak. it wasn't in the plan for him to fall along.

note y'all liked my post about writing something for this, so hopefully you'll enjoy this story. um, not actually heavy in terms of zombie appearances, but i have plans for another part to this story if ya'll end up enjoying this.

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Ghost stayed seated, back flat against the wall as he watched Y/N sleep and breathe slowly, her chest rising and falling steadily. He couldn’t imagine that the small cot was comfortable, or even very warm, but she seemed to be at peace. The only look of relief he’d seen on her face since their first unfortunate meeting. The painful memory of sirens blaring, people screaming in confusion, and the gut-wrenching, squelching noise of rotting flesh moving through the compound. 

A shiver ran down Ghost’s back at the memory, he stiffened, hardening his clutch around his gun, but the night stayed enjoyably silent. It was quiet in a way he didn’t know, lacking the noise cities and towns used to have, the area around him was drenched in an inky black, and the only light provided was from the moon and stars above that cut through the cracks in the window. 

She shifts in her sleep next to him, twitching involuntarily, a bad dream he supposed. Without a thought, Ghost reached down with a gloved hand, brushing it against her cheek, down her neck. The touch stills her, Y/N’s body easing again from the gesture. 

“Fucking hell.” He quietly mutters to himself, in the dim light, he moves the blanket to check the wound on her leg. His fingers graze the stained gauze bandaging, wincing knowing how much worse it could’ve been. How much worse Ghost had seen.

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“We’ve got reports of outbreaks in all major cities across the United Kingdom and the world.” The news was completely ignored as the military compound was in disarray, chaos sweeping through as soldiers moved out. Everything was pure chaos, the streets were filled with blood and bones, corpses piling up as the flesh-craving, rabid creatures spread like wildfire. The consequence of biological warfare and the weapons it made. Man had played god and met its destruction when they decided to use their own as a tool. 

Ghost’s body was tired, threatening to give out under him as he gunned down more of the creatures. Maggots was the name Soap had decided to call them as they fought back, killing those who’d once been fellow soldiers. But if he stopped now, he’d be swarmed by the infected, and if not ripped apart limb-by-limb, he’d receive a fate worse than death. 

“We’ve got medical personnel barricaded in the infirmary, we need to get them out of there and moved to the QZ.” Price barked at Ghost over the comms, he was closet to the infirmary, near the outer hall that led to the medical wing. He groaned loudly, fearing what would happen if he tried to move, but the orders stood firm, and while the government was falling apart, he still acted as a soldier for his country. 

“Moving there now.” 

It was in that dark infirmary, where he could hear the Maggots beating against the outside walls that he first saw her. Gun clutched in her hands, blood splattered across her clothes and skin, and a grave of personnel who’d been turned in the infirmary as he dragged her out of the closet. Y/N kicked and screamed, scarred that he was dragging her to her death, but she went limp once he’d thrown her over his shoulder, his arm securing her in place as he moved her to the cleared tarmac. Past the growing swarms of flies that flocked to dead humans and Maggots alike. 

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“Ghost?” Her quiet voice echoed through the dark room, he gazed at her bruised face. Frowning, Simon wiped some of the grime from the journey off. 

“Right here, Y/N.” Ghost sighed, she opened her mouth to speak but closed it again. “How do you feel?” 

“Probably just as bad as you.” Y/N brought her leg up, closing it to her chest so she could tug at the bandaging. “Need to change to gauze.” 

“Let me do that, Y/N. No need to stress yourself, you need to rest.” He tells her, reaching over to her backpack, reaching inside, and finding her small kit of supplies. The container was beginning to run low, he didn’t like to think about what would happen if they didn’t get to Edinburgh soon. What had been planned, had gone astray. 

“Ghost, you need to rest too. I’m not going to be falling back asleep.” She forces the gauze and antiseptic wipes out of his hands and into hers. “You need to rest, otherwise you’ll just be a bag of bones.” 

Wiping his face with his hand and letting out a low groan, Ghost knew she was right. He’d had little rest the past few days and knew how it would delay his reaction time and ability to keep her safe. “Are you sure? I don’t want you-”

“I’ll be fine, and if I have even the slightest suspicion that something is wrong, I’ll wake you up. I promise.” Y/N assures him. Ghost reluctantly agrees, his body grateful at the idea of rest, even if it was for just a brief moment. 

“Swear it.” 

“I swear I’ll wake you up. Please, sleep.” She promises, shifting into a seating position. Ghost stayed seated, but let his head rest against the walls and allowed his eyes to droop. Exhaustion won the battle against his willpower as he drifted off. 

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“We need to get her to Edinburgh, they have the tools, the chance to get a cure made. And she’s got the knowledge they need.” Price more often than not, was raising his voice at people. Even with the QZ safely established, and the initial surge dying down, there was too much uncertainty and too much loss for him to act rationally. Ghost knew this, he acted the same, snapping too quickly nowadays at already terrified soldiers under him. Sometimes he felt as mindless and flesh-eating as the Maggots, sniffing out fear like the infected sniffed out their next victim. 

It seemed selfish to fight against the order he’d be given, foolish and self-centered. But what real chance did they have at creating a cure to stop the virus and its continued spread? Rumors had circulated that the Americans had been in the early stages of developing a counteract to the outbreak, but England had lost contact with all allies months ago. They could only rely on themselves, and even that seemed a stretch. 

“Why don’t you get someone else?” Someone disposable, Ghost thought, as he knew the chances of successfully getting someone across the wasteland of England up to Edinburgh were almost impossible. Vehicles, cars, or helis were out of the question, fuel was strictly saved for powering and keeping the QZ warm. Which left him with no other option but to walk, for three weeks through towns, cities, and country filled with Maggots. A certain death. 

“Because you’re the only one I trust to get her there.” 

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The sun poured into the room, Ghost’s eyes flickered open before he jolted himself fully awake. His heart slammed in his chest, panic seeping through his veins. How long had he been asleep? Next to him, Y/N lay turned into his side, pressed into the side of his ribs. Ghost found the gun still propped against the wall next to him, he brought it back into his grip and surveyed the room around. All was quiet, all was at ease. Almost as if the outbreak hadn’t happened, destroying mankind in its wake. 

Ghost wished Y/N had woken him up the moment she’d grown tired, but he didn’t have it in himself to be mad. For a high-achieving doctor, who always strove to be efficient, Ghost was a bit annoyed by her lack of responsibility. But she looked so beautiful in the early morning light, under the layer of dirt and grime that clung to her skin, Ghost’s eyes lingered on her rosy cheeks and soft lips.

He hated to break the silence or drag her awake, but they needed to move. Their location would only stay safe for so long. “Y/N. We need to get going.” 

The woman grumbled at his words, trying to bury herself closer to Ghost’s side. He smirks at her action, prying her hands off of his body. His fingers grazed the veins and took comfort in the steady flow of blood in her body. 

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Dry grass crunched under his feet as he carried her to the abandoned farmhouse. Set away from the road and society, no Rotten would wander this far from a horde. They’d be safe, safer than they’d been in the town where they’d been attacked by raiders. Y/N let out a whimper as he set her down on the ground, needing his hands to pry open the heavy wooden door. Her hand moved down to the poorly bandaged leg, where the large gash lay from where she’d been struck during the attack. 

The hinges of the door creak as it opens, Ghost steps in, pistol raised and ready to survey the room. The farm, much like everything else around them, was abandoned. He didn’t care to think what had happened to those who’d lived there before, death had lost its sting for Ghost long ago. 

Pulling Y/N back into his arms, Ghost moved back into the house, setting her down on the sagging settee in the living room. He moved down to the wounded leg, and as he began to unwrap the gauze, she winced, cringing as the cold, stale air greeted her wound. Y/N’s body shook uneasily, and her breathing was swallowed. 

“Sorry.” Ghost apologizes, pulling open her medical kit. But his stomach churned uncomfortably at the wound, it was still oozing. 

“S’gonna need stitches.” Y/N groans, dropping her head back down against the arm of the settee after evaluating the wound and its condition. “I can do it myself, but I’ll need you to find needle and thread.” 

“I’ll find it, and I’ll do it myself. You’re in no condition to attempt to stitch yourself up.” He grunts, standing back up and beginning to search the room they were in for the needed materials. 

“But-”

“No buts, Y/N. I’ve done this before, I can do it again.” Ghost states, opening a closet that was still stocked with sewing supplies. Plenty of needles, and a variety of colorful threads. He chose the one that was closest to medical thread, placing it and the small plastic container of needles down on the coffee table. 

As he began to sew the wound closed, Y/N’s eyes began to water, and she gripped the fabric of the settee grinding her teeth. Ghost felt the need to keep apologizing to her, over and over again until he’d tightly secured the stitching with a knot. She let out a strained sob as he wiped the skin clean of dried blood with a cloth and some water from his canteen. 

“I’m sorry, it’s done now.” He promised her, yanking his dirty gloves off and dropping them on the coffee table next to his discarded backpack and the harder outer layer of his mask. “You’re okay, I promise.” Ghost assures her, taking Y/N’s face in his calloused hands. She nods, her lips still trembling.

There wasn’t a thought in his mind as he pressed a kiss on the side of her cheek. He brought her body close to his, breathing in the smell of her skin, the blood, sweat, and tears. They stayed like that for a while, he allowed her to cry into his neck, his hands running through her knotted hair. 

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His gaze falls on her as she fights the knots out of her hair, trying to manage just a bit before they set out again. While Ghost wouldn’t admit it, his body was painfully numb from all the walking they’d done the past weeks, wishing they’d made it to Edinburgh already. But he feared what would happen when they did arrive. The quiet moments he’d come to enjoy with Y/N would disappear. She’d return to her duty, struggling to make a cure. And what purpose would he have? The idea of attempting to return to London alone was a dangerous one. He assumed the military up there would put him to work. But would he ever get to spend any more cold nights, keeping her warm? 

“I’m ready.” Y/N finally announces to him, pulling her backpack over her shoulders.

“‘Bout damn time.” Ghost huffs, offering her his hand to steady herself with. She wobbles a bit, unsure of how much weight she can put on her leg without it giving out underneath her. “Alright?”

“Yeah.” She nods but Ghost drops his arm down around her waist, adding extra support. “Ghost-”

“Let me help you.” He asks, leaning down and kissing her face. The rough material of the mask brushed against her raw skin. Y/N grasps at the mask, trying to remove the barrier between them. With reluctance, he breaks away from her lips, knowing his action is dangerous with consequences that could hurt. “Another time, Y/N. Need to save our breath.” 

note so, i'll admit, i left the worst of the angst out of this. but- i may decide to deliver the rest if ya'll are curious about how gut-wrenching my writing can actually get.

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Chapter 3 - Before The Day Is Over

"Michael?" the red haired beauty asked from the bed, where she was embroidering a dress. "Why did Gallant kill his grandma?" Langdon was sitting on the chair, writing tirelessly at his laptop. His fingers stopped typing, and he blinked for a second, thinking of a proper answer that wouldn't upset her innocence... Too much. "He has been lied to, and oppressed, by a person whom he deemed trustworthy family. His lonesome neediness brought him to desperation once he found out his beloved grandmother sold his life, for a slim chance of living, knowing very well that Venable's rules prohibited fornication." he watched with careful eyes as the woman garbed in grey rags - O, how he hated that unseeming outfit on her. While all the most worthless of pieces of stale meat were enjoying fine silks and royal treatment, she was forced to scrub the floor with her own delicate hands, and see to their every capricious whim. Her fingers tightened their grasp around the soft material of the dress, and her brows furrowed. "And... Why would she tell on her own grandson? Why would she bring him to the gallows herself and cut the rope holding the guillotine above his neck? Acting as judge, jury and executioner from the shadows, against your own family... That is..." she bit that plump, pink bottom lip of hers, and how enticing she looked. "Because, my darling - People are inherently evil. When a situation such as this arrives, where their lives hangs in by a thin thread of hope, they would trample over each other like cattle, just to survive." the blond arose from the chair, and with his hands behind his back, he slowly paced along the bed. 

"But you said you could take all of us, or none. The matter of empty spots was not a problem. And you refused to disclose any such criteria of choosing. They all thought they had advantages and disadvantages over one another... Yet you clarified it was not the age, nor the body that you analysed, but who they are as persons. Acts of betrayal and the impulsivity of revenge did nothing to aid their case nor secure a spot to the Sanctuary." Michael found himself smiling at her. He missed such talks with her so much. It wasn't that she didn't understand the reason for people's evil actions, but that none had any justification, except the fickle emotions tainting their ration. Humans were so easily... Corrupted.

"That is just the nature of mankind, my darling, there is little one can do about it. God - If there even is one out there - Created us in his image, though he cursed us all, because of a single mistake that the first generation did. Even then, the snake with the silver tongue was able to bewitch those two into sinning... But was it the snake's fault for speaking the words it was created to whisper, or Adam and Eve's fault, for listening and choosing to disobey their father? Likewise, it is the gun's fault that one man died from a bullet, or the person pulling the trigger?" Katrina tilted her head upwards, her eyes meeting his own voluntarily, for the first time since they've been reunited. "I would much rather die than allow any harm to come your way, Michael." she admitted in such a delicate voice, that Michael's smile only widened in disbelief. Such a bold declaration of selfless, pure love was something that she would be capable of vocalising. In a swift move, Langdon found himself sitting on the edge of the bed, his hands on her face, eyes wide in wonder, star-struck as though he was seeing Divine Providence, the same way a leper was cured by Jesus from his leprosy, and Lazarus was resurrected four days after his death. "I know, my sweet angel, I know." he said, planting a kiss on her forehead. "You have always been sacred." Michael reached for the needle and the dress, throwing them far away, in a corner. When the beauty attempted to protest, she was silenced by the man shifting his position to kneel between her legs, his hands holding her own.  "No, Michael, I-- I need to finish this dress before the Masquerade!" she whimpered. "I-I don't... I don't want to get punished for disobeying!" he could feel her trembling under his touch. "The last person who dared tell Venable that you are the leader here got... Severely punished." the fear she was so evidently displaying almost aroused him, were it not for the power trip of that wretch who dared terrify his beloved. "My love, what is there for you to fear anymore? Venable's word will mean nothing to you, once we've departed for the Sanctuary." he reassured tenderly. "Your beautiful fingers are bleeding, my darling. How many times have you pricked them, in you attempt at rushing the heavy work?" "Don't blame my incompetence on the work I have been assigned to do." she muttered, snatching her hands back and holding them to her chest. "Until the day that we leave, I have no choice but to obey the rules instilled, be them fair or not." "I will not allow you to do such a silly thing." the man chuckled, leaning closer to her. "You and I will go together to Venable's silly party, and you will be wearing the most beautiful dress there is, and your gorgeous hair will be let loose to dance around you every time I twirling you into my arms - All that, just to spite that self-important bitch who dared torment you." his voice, hushed yet dark, held an ominous tone to it.

Langdon's fingers gingerly trailed down, from her cheek to her jaw, and down to her neck, and to her cleavage, where he began unbuttoning the shirt-like dress with the colour of dust. She said nothing, though she needn't, as her cheeks were a shade of the deepest red. She felt the sash holding the apron over laxing and being set loose, and onto the ground. She felt so vulnerable, being unburdened by another, though she needn't be, as she had slept in his own shirt, just two or three nights prior. Why was it so different, so... Intimate, when another was doing it, looking so deep into her eyes, like a hawk watching its prey... No, rather, like an artist watching his most beloved masterpiece... His magnum opus. For Michael, the woman laying underneath him so timidly, like lamb with the softest, whitest fleece, was his salvation, the single spark of light in the endless pit of darkness, in which he felt himself succumbing like quicksand. She was that single, thin spider web string of silver hope on which he alone was clingy onto, like a man lost at desert, desperate for his oasis.

"Will you ever be able to forgive my unsightly behaviour, my love? I have been waiting so long... I have been pining so long... And search far and wide, agonising over the thought of having allowed you to be lost in this mayhem. I cannot bare living in a world without you, it is half a life, if even that much. Stumbling alone in the dark, without you was what most would describe as torment." his words were seducing, yet sincere. "I have wished to help you remember on your own, at the pace you needed for you to feel safe. I wished to earn your trust, naturally, and for you to develop your own feelings for me, the same as you did back then, when we were so young and impressionable, and so, so innocent." the man sighed, feeling his own arousal burning him hotter than the blight of hell, as though he was walking on brimstone. "But I cannot resist the temptation whenever you are around me. I feel suffocated with desire whenever I see your beauty, and my heart stops with love when those green eyes of yours gaze at me so tenderly. My whole body trembles with greedy concupiscence, just feeling your sweet perfume... And my skin immolates with every spot you touch." his body over hers, unveiled in the warmth of candlelight, the way God created them, Katrina's chest, glued to his own, could feel the rapid and uneven beating of Michael's heart. Her whole body felt incinerated with a hazy sensation of kindliness and heat, a sort of comfort that... Seemed to be transcend her into new planes of existence. "Michael?" she found herself whispering as she wrapped his slender arms gingerly around his torso, pulling him even closer to her, if that were even humanly possible. "Tell me something. Anything. I want to hear your voice." "I love you." the woman let out a soft gasp - She couldn't understand how, or why, but she could feel the honesty of his soul. "... Do you mean it?" she asked, wishing to feel the gentle caress of truth washing her in waves again. "I have loved you since the first time I saw you." he admittance was gospel. "Michael." she whispered. "My soul can... Feel... That your words hold candour. I cannot explain how or... Why... But I can feel it." Michael shifted his body so his own arms will be embracing his lover, one arm around her body, the other, serving as rest for her head. He leaned down to touch his forehead to her own. "As a witch, you were able to feel when people lied to you. It is a variation of one of the Seven Wonders, namely Divination. You are reaching new steps in your awakening, my love. Familiarity is helping you remember who you are." the adoration of his voice, praising and encouraging her so tenderly, made her feel as though she couldn't breathe, yet for once, it wasn't out of fear. It was an overwhelming sense of endearment and fondness. "Have we done this before?" the pink peonies in her cheeks glowed with heat, speaking so sinfully. "No." he smiled. "We were so young back then, and the world around us was dictating our every action. It is different now. It is just you and I, my sweet angel. Just you and I."

Morning had arrived faster than expected, and Langdon's eyes shot open, his head tilted to the side. A velvety curtain of scarlet hair was draped all over the beautiful woman cuddled so peacefully in his arms. She hadn't woken up yet. It was the sole night when she hadn't been tormented by nightmares. Michael was satisfied with the outcome. Not only was his sweet angel sleeping so tranquil, but the events of the night kept replaying into his head, making his smile in delight. Every new expression that he's never had the privilege of witnessing before, and every honeyed thrill she sang to him made him shiver with lust and greed. What a sinner he was, indulging in every one of his hedonistic desires, with the woman he cherished endlessly - She made him feel insatiable, forever hungry, only for her. Though he wanted to spend more time bathing in her restful grace and feel her chest going up and down with every breath she took, to feel the soft crimson locks around his hand and he idly plays and caresses it...  He had work to do. So much work, that ultimately will lead to the supreme climax of each and every one of these worthless urchins dying a most painful death. They deserved it. They were all tainted. Disgusting. Predictable. 

They were all so flawlessly human.

Michael carefully got off the bed, admiring the way his beloved looked, swallowed in his dark, disheveled shirt, the blanket only half draped over her body, and he went to get ready to leave the room. He got off on tempting and toying with all these idiots. She was going to be safe in his room - After all, who'd dare sneak in? Except for the dumbass couple whom he indirectly seduced into searching for his well-written words and finding out the regulations on their own, and encouraging them to sin.

Whilst away, Langdon's door was kicked open, and from inside the room, the red haired Grey squealed in fright, jumping to her knees, wrapping her body instinctively with the blanket. Squinting her tired eyes, she saw Miss Mead and Venable, along with two other large, muscular women who served as henchmen. 

"You know the regulations, Grey." Venable spat, even more disgust, as it was Langdon she was fucking, and not one of the many survivors. "A smart person learns from other's mistakes, they say. Evidently, your spot as a Grey, along with your blatant disregard for the rules, proves that you have earned your spot here for your sheer stupidity." how could they know? Who told them? Who spied on them so shamelessly, like disgusting lechers? "Take her."

At once, the two henchwomen stomped by the bed and one slapped the ant's face so hard that she fell back on the bed, while the other one buried her meaty hand into the cascade of crimson hair, and with inhuman force, she dragged her off the bed. She wasn't allowed to get up and walked  by herself properly - Instead, the first one grabbed her other arm and they roughly got her to the punishing room, where she was thrown to the hard ground. "Do we kill her, Miss Venable?" "Not yet." the woman tapped her cane next to the pitiful form of the woman shaking violently with fear, her face wet with tears rapidly falling down. "Did you think you were smart? Shamelessly seducing and opening your legs for the Cooperative man, thinking he would bring you to the Sanctuary? You are a disgrace for womankind." Katrina looked so tiny and insignificant, huddled into the wall, hoping to just disappear from the world. "Do you know who told us?" the girl shook her head. "You should." Venable smiled venomously. "Langdon." "He didn't." Katrina spat in a tone low and harsh. Venable laughed mockingly. "You shouldn't delude yourself so desperately, stupid girl. Accept reality. Your plan failed, and Langdon abandoned you. In fact, he is pushing for a death sentence, all things considered. Perhaps you hadn't performed to his satisfaction." the three other women laughed tauntingly. "Stop lying. I can sense your lies from a mile away. I know it wasn't him." were it not for her new-found ability, the frightened lamb would have never dared, speak back to a person of authority... But somehow, she had faith and certainty that Michael hadn't betrayed her. Last night was genuine - All of it. Every little thing they did, every declaration, every confession - They were all sincere. Were it not for Michael, she wouldn't have had courage. She wouldn't have seen any meaning in protesting or fighting back. Loneliness was dark and depressing, and solitude was her greatest pain for so long, something beyond her control, something that eats away at her very soul, little by little, eroding at her very core. Michael was different. Michael knew her. Michael was SEEING her. Michael loved her.  "Delusional whore." Venable spat with anger. "Miss Mead." she called out her right hand's name. "The whip."

The burly woman smiled with sadistic glee as she took the black whip into her hand, and with extreme precision and accuracy, she cracked it against the expensive cashmere of Langdon's shirt hanging shapelessly from her body. Venable felt such perverse satisfaction, imagining the Cooperative wretch having flesh being torn from its bone from the repeated whipping, though the annoyingly pitched shriek from the sobbing ant was beginning to get on her nerves. "If you want this to stop, tell us what you know of Langdon." "Nothing! I know nothing! We j-just met! Wh-Why would h-he disclose c-clas-sified information t-to some G-Grey?!" the tortured soul stuttered in searing agony, but the torment went on, and on, and on, with more degrading comments and humiliation. "Stop! Please, stop! I can't take it anymore! It hurts! Please, I beg of you, stop! Stop! Stop! Stop!" but she was so lost in her own personal hell that she didn't hear the door opening, Venable and Mead leaving, letting the other two henchwomen finish the job. "STOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP!!!!!!!!!!!!" her broken shriek that rawed her throat so much that it bled. And then it all stopped.

Only her distressed, broken weeps were echoing through the small, blindingly white room - For how long, she was unaware - But she heard her name being called, by the velvety voice of her lover, who was standing in the door frame, eyes wide with shock at the carnage painting the room like a religious mural. "My love?" though she was unable to move or look at him, she felt comforted by his presence. "What did they do to you?!" Michael rushed to her side, angrily stomping on the discarded leg of one of the torturers, and he fell next to his beloved. He wanted to throw his arms around her, but seeing his shirt being torn to ribbons and shreds. Her flesh was painted red, slashed and abused by the leather rope of the whip. How dare they commit such an atrocity? Didn't they know such folly deserved eternal torment in the deepest pits of hell? Had Dante Alighieri written Inferno for no reason? "I-It hurts so much, Mickey, it hurts so much. I f-feel so weak, I... I feel like -- Like I'm dying." she finally dared twist her aching body to hide in his arms, her fingers holding onto and wrinkling his coat with decrepit strength. "My darling -- Look at me. Look at me." he placed his hands on her pale cheeks, looking at her exhausted, sweaty face, hair aimlessly sticking to her face. "Remember how you healed me, my love? You can do so for yourself. Let me help you." her breathing was ragged and hot, gritting her teeth in sheer agony as Langdom gingerly removed the scraps of black shirt from her body, leaving her bare and vulnerable before his devilish eyes. "Do you trust me?" his hands held hers, giving them a reassuring squeeze, his lips almost touching her own. His whispery voice sent a shiver down her spine. "Venable said you were the one who betrayed me." she replied, a pained vibrato in her voice. "She said you were using me for your own lecherous needs, and that you have abandoned me." "And do you believe her?" the man frowned, feeling wrath taking over his senses. "No." Kat smiles delicately. "I knew she was lying." she continued, taking a few deep breaths to keep herself awake. "It only reinforced my trust in you." the man captured her lips, tasting like salted caramel from all the tears, distracting her from the slight sting of guiding her hands over her body. 

"Good." he muttered, his lips moving along her jaw, and to her neck, in trails of romantic kisses. "It was Andre." he admitted the truth, gazing lustfully through hooded lids at the lewd and salacious imagery before him, an angel covered in blood, smearing it all over her body, like a temptress succubus attempting to seduce him. "He was jealous on us." he continued, inhaling a sharp breath, arousal heightening his senses. "The other two were told on, by him also. Nearly died." with each trace of her wounds, they would heal rapidly, until no sign of whip, nor scar existed on her soft flesh. "Venable cooked and fed him his lover, who cheated on him. If he cannot have sexual gratification, no one is allowed to know bliss." "Fool." Kat moaned, feeling her strength returning, bit by bit. "Will you take him with us?" "Not even in his dreams." Michael scoffed, and once all of her injuries were healed, he brought her into an embrace, uncaring of the blood stains on his expensive, elegant clothes. "Nobody who hurts my sweet angel should hold any hope of living." he scoffed, taking off his coat and wrapping her in it, like a blanket. "Let us return to my room, sweetling." he picked her up in his arms with ease, only to realise his mistake, as he exposed her to the eviscerated bodies of the henchwomen, body parts splattered everywhere.  "Wh-Who did this...?" the girl whimpered, bewildered and unable to comprehend what she was seeing. "You did." he smiled tenderly at her. "No, I -- I couldn't have! How could I?" she gasped, looking in disbelief. "There is a limit to the pains a delicate angel like yourself can endure. You must have been so desperate to make it all stop, that your innate powers acted up on their own to protect you." he explained, swiftly stepping out of the accursed chamber. "Will you ever have it in your heart  to forgive me for not being there to protect you?" he placed her on the bed, his eyes desperate and sorrowful for his failure. "What is there to forgive, Mickey? You were not there - I know you would have intervened. I know you would have saved me." she smiled tenderly at him. "Would I be too daring, were I to ask to wear your shirt instead? I love the material of it." Michael chuckled, amused, as his nimble finger unbuttoned his shirt and helped her dress it. "May I... Also... Ask for one of your rings?" Michael looked down at his hands, and picked the smallest one he had, before gingerly slipping it on her thumb.  "You used to wear jewellery every time we met. Rings and bracelets and necklaces..." his nostalgic smile seemed to afflict her also. "But my favourite accessory of yours have always been..." with a swish of his wrist, he created a flower crown made out of black roses, and placed it on top of her head. "Flowers." "I really love flowers." she smiled bashfully, looking down as her fingers delicately traced the ring on her thumb. "Thank you, Michael."

Doomsday was approaching at an unexpectedly fast pace, and the Halloween Masquerade that got everyone so excited was knocking at their door. Venable thought she was being smart, she thought the poisoned apple plan was her own witty idea. If she cannot be saved, no one else can. If only she knew she was the one being played, and the tale of Snow White was going to have a tragically fatalistic tale - For everyone but Snow White, that is. The ugly hag was going to get painfully dismembered by the Prince, and she will never get the chance to harm his beloved Snow White princess. The seven dumb dwarves can die, for all he cared - None meant anything to him. It was only her. Only his angel.

"Would you like me to tell you another one of the angel and demon's adventure, my sweet flower?" the man asked, getting in bed next to his beloved. "No." she turned to him, her palm placed on his bare chest. "I want you to tell me of our adventures, instead. No more metaphors or allegories. Just us. Kat and Mickey." Michael looked at her, and he offered a boyish grin, engulfing her in his arms. "I would be delighted to!" he felt so giddy, like a child being gifted a puppy. "It all happened so long ago, when we were young children, and you found me in the forest..."

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[2battled-blog]

      ❪ ➤ ❫ absolutely ludicrous, was the first thing that came to her after hearing him. ❛ it doesn’t work that way. ‘ it was doubtful that he would listen to her, despite giving her own thoughts about the matter. moreover, it seemed pointless to even go through with whatever he had in his mind -- it wouldn’t even benefit her ( considering that it didn’t seem particularly rewarding to do so ). though she had to wonder what exactly went through his mind he had thrown that suggestion to her in the first place. ❚ @finalkeeper​ ☓ starter call.

[moral-turpitudes]

House Calls:

A/N: I’m in no way a doctor or even a med student, I just used google and went off my own experiences with fevers...so yeah lol. I’m screaming at how cute Soft!Tommy is though like I think I’m dead. RIP to me and my ovaries.

Trigger Warnings: Angst, FLUFF. Some flirty shit at the end.

Word Count: 1,640

Characters: Thomas Shelby x Female Reader

Request: “Could you perhaps write a one-shot Tommy x reader and the reader would work as a doctor and one day she would be called to treat John or Charlie (doesn’t matter) and she would be able to cure them and Thomas would be very grateful for it. I think that might be very cute but if you don’t like the idea it’s okay!! 😃😃”

Requested by: Anon

Summary: Y/N is summoned to Thomas Shelby’s house to help cure his ailing son, not knowing she’d catch the eye of the usually cold-hearted gang leader.

Part 1 | Part 2

Around 5am a rough, rattling cough came from the depths of Charlie’s lungs, startling him awake and causing him to cry between ragged breaths. His frail screaming pierced the air, sending Tommy shooting out of bed, grabbing his gun from his nightstand, and darting straight to his sons room. He panicked internally, while flinging the door open for any signs of danger, only to be met with Charlies cries and outstretched hands.

Tommy took a deep breath and sighed, scooping him up and taking a seat in the rocking chair near his crib. As he fought sleep, he looked at the pale blue ceiling of his sons room, listening to Charlie’s ragged breaths. With a furrowed brow, he lifted him up, bringing his forehead to his lips, confirming his suspicions of a fever. The poor thing was flushed red in the face, a light sheen of sweat developing on his skin as his hot tears soaked his face.

“Shhh...it’s okay. Daddy’s got ya. We’re going to call a doctor okay?” He said, trying to gently coo to calm Charlie down. He was whining and fussy and showing no signs of the fever breaking anytime soon.

Tommy gently got up with him and brought him to his bedroom, sitting him on what would’ve been Grace’s side of the bed, and lied down next to him whilst he dialed the doctors office.

A nice voice on the end of the line answered. “This is Dr. Y/L/N with the Birmingham Women and Children’s Clinic. How may I help you?” She asked.

“Hello Dr. Y/L/N, this is Thomas Shelby. I’m calling about my son. He has a cough, ragged breathing, and a fever that seems really high. Are you able to make house calls?” He asked, watching as Charlie played with a horse-shaped toy.

“Yes of course Mr. Shelby. I’ll just need an address and I’ll be over in about 30 minutes.” She said.

Tommy told her the address and any other details she needed to know. And before he could hang up, her voice sounded again, calming Tommy as the sun rose through the window.

“Don’t worry Mr. Shelby, I’ll have him better in no time. But just for a precaution, get a cold rag and put it on the back of his neck to help with the fever.”

“Alright, I will. Thank you.” He said before hanging up.

“Well Charlie, looks like we’re going to have a visitor alright? She’s going to take good care of ya.” He said as Charlie now laid against his chest, whining quietly. Tommy gently put him on the pillow and went to get a cloth, running it under cold water, and putting it over the back of his neck.

“There ya go, my sweet boy.” He said kissing the top of his head. He whined a bit as the cold cloth touched his neck, protesting the feeling as Tommy watched sleepily over him. It was around 5:30 in the morning when they finally heard the doorbell and a swift knock on the door.

Tommy picked up Charlie, and went to the door allowing the nurse to step in.

“Thank you for coming so early in the morning. I’m surprised anyone’s working this early.” He said, his voice still a bit groggy.

“Of course! I was working the graveyard shift so I’m always the doctor on call at this time. Now this must be Charlie...Hello sweetheart. My name is Y/N.” You said, smiling and in a much more lively tone than Tommy.

“Charlie do you want to show Y/N to your room?” He asked. Charlie looked up at you and smiled slightly, his rosy cheeks alarming you a bit.

“Lead the way you two, I’ll be right behind ya.” You said, nervously walking down the hall and up the stairs, reveling at the grandiosity of the house. You knew the Shelby’s after caring for many of the families wives and children, but this was the first time you’ve encountered the infamous Thomas Shelby. His current state was much less alarming than you thought it was going to be. You expected a ruthless leader answering the door, with a razor-blade cap on and wielding a gun, but instead he was a blue-eyed slim faced man, with a loose fitting shirt and pants on, and an adorable baby boy living seemingly alone in this huge mansion. 

“Here we are, where would you like me to put him?” He asked you. You looked around the blue-toned room, your eyes catching a portrait of a blonde haired, beautiful woman in a frame near his crib that you assumed to be his late mother, as it was similar to the one in the stairwell.

“His crib is fine.” You said, sitting your work bag down and putting your gloves on and putting your stethoscope around your neck. 

“If you don’t mind I’d like to stay, he doesn’t like when I leave...” He said, taking a seat in the rocking chair.

“That’s completely fine, Mr. Shelby. I’ll try to make this quick so you don’t fall asleep.” You said smirking. He smiled and watched on as you did your work.

“Alright I’m going to take this and listen to your heart okay? Big breaths for me, like this.” You said, breathing in a big breath and blowing out.

He did his best to copy you and sat surprisingly still as the stethoscope gently made its way around his chest and back.

“His heart sounds great, but his breathing is a bit rough. His lungs sound like they’re inflamed a little bit.” You said looking over at Tommy who was eyeing you intently, causing you to blush a bit as he nodded for you to continue. 

“Okay sweetie let’s take your temperature shall we?” You say before reaching in your bag to get a thermometer.

“Can you say “Ahh” for me Charlie?” You asked, smiling at him. He opened his mouth just enough for you to examine his throat before raising his arm up to place the thermometer under his arm.

“We’re going to play a game okay? You’re going to hold that under your arm and I’m going to hold this under mine until it’s ready alright?” You said, grabbing a pencil from your bag and placing it under yours, getting him to copy you. You were able to get a reading not too long after, taking the pencil from under your arm and clapping as you removed the thermometer from under his.

“Now I know you won’t like me for a moment, but I’m going to shine this at your eyes for a second okay? Look at me.” You said guiding his eyes with your finger as you examined them.

“Great job sweetheart!” You said leaning down to him and giving him a high-five. You turned to Tommy who was smiling at your all’s little interaction. 

“It’s 101.5...that’s a bit high especially for a toddler, and so from the look and sound of it, I’m going to say he has acute bronchitis.” 

His face turned a bit serious as he took in what you said. Your smile faded slightly as you took in his change of emotion.

“Will you be able to prescribe his anything?” He asked, concern lacing his face and his voice.

“Of course Mr. Shelby. I’m going to prescribe him some cough syrup that will help with the cough and everything, and I recommend cold compresses every few hours to help with the fever or a cold bath if you find it increasing.” You said writing out a note for the prescription.

“Alright, thank you again. I hate to keep you away from your work, but I’d probably be panicking right now if it weren't for you Dr. Y/L/N.”

“It’s no problem at all, especially when my patients are as well behaved as little Charlie.” You said, smiling at him and then at Tommy. You felt his gaze on you as you gathered your things and as you made your way to the door.

“Oh and Mr. Shelby, you can call me Y/N. I’d be happy to help you again if need be.”

“Thank you Y/N. And you can call me Tommy. I know it may not be the right time, but I’d love to pay repay ya in some way, not just with money...” He said lingering by the door to Charlie’s room. You stopped and looked at him, taking a moment to think about what he said.

“What kind of repayment were you thinking Mr. Sh-I mean Tommy?” You asked, catching yourself calling him that out of habit. 

“I was thinking maybe going for a drink sometime, when you’re free of course.” He said. You blushed and took a long look at him. 

“I’d love that actually...I’ll ring you this Friday when I’m free.” You said.

“Then it’s a date.” He said smiling slightly before turning back to Charlie. 

You walked out, hearing the birds singing as you drove off and back to the remaining hours of your long shift, excitedly looking forward to the end of the week.

Later that morning, Thomas called the shop, telling Polly all that went on and decided to take the day off to better help monitor him, but before she could say anything else he spoke.

“Oh and cancel anything for Friday of this week.” He said.

“Why...? Thomas is it serious?” She asked concerned.

“No Poll. The lovely doctor prescribed him some medicine. I’m...actually going to be meeting with her that day...”

“My god you’ve asked out the doctor?” She asked.

“I did. But I know she’s not like the others Poll, you’ll see.” He said before hanging up. 

After Grace’s death, he didn’t know when he’d want to take up dating again, but dating takes risks, and risks were something that Thomas Shelby could never shy away from.

Tag List:

@msbzowy, @nofckingfighting, @aranoburns, @sighonahurricane, @ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes, @gaytommyshelby, @wowjeena, @fifty-shadesof-tommyshelby, @inglourious-imagines, @thebloodyshelbys, @tsolomons, @blinder-secrets, @reveparade, @shelby-fanatic, @ta-ka-shi-ma, @cai-neki, @peakyxtommy

[haokyeom]

ice queen | lee chan

ミ★ synopsis: you’re known as cold-hearted and unkind at your university. your classmates even warn people not to try and talk to you because your glare is deadly. that’s until you meet chan. the man you believe holds the whole sun in his smile.

ミ★ genre: virtue of kindness!chan, slice of life au, fluff, humor

ミ★ warnings: none !

ミ★ word count: 5,282

ミ★ pairings: chan x female reader

ミ★ notes: hi guys ! it’s lila aka, @viastro​, this one was really fun and sweet to write </33 it was a good break from the other ones i’ve written... stares. AHFLSRKHGLKR but other than that, as always, i hope you guys like it ! make sure to give chan lots of love <33

ミ★ previous | masterlist | next

Be kind. 

It’s one of those life lessons everyone learns as a child. You hear it all the time in Disney movies, with the protagonist who has unnecessarily rude family or friends and yet they always grows up to be a sweetheart. 

a bit whack you believe.

You would think that those Disney movies would really stick with you, but you learned at a young age that being nice led your classmates to think you were a pushover. So you were the main target of all of their sick jokes. That is, until you punched a guy in the face in front of the swings. 

You decided at that moment, at the young, tender age of seven, that that was a lot more fun than being kind to everyone.

And now here you are, 19 years old in your second year of university. With a total of two best friends (thank god for Joshua and Jeonghan) whom you met under very suspicious circumstances, but it’s fine. The three of you pair well together, and you don’t feel the need for other friends. It’s not like your peers try to be close to you either, due to you earning the title of ice queen at Seoul University. 

They ended up calling you that when one guy tried to ask you to be his girlfriend in the square. He had a bouquet of flowers and everything, it was truly the whole shabang. With everyone’s eyes on the two of you after he poured out his heart, you coldly rejected him, turning around and leaving the square without another word. Leaving the poor guy standing there in shock. 

In your defense, you hardly knew the man. He was your partner once for a Chemistry project and suddenly he wants you to be his girlfriend ?? No. 

Not to mention the fact that Jeonghan and Joshua told you they were waiting for you at the water fountain so that the three of you could go and get kbbq together. 

While that was the main incident that made everyone come up with the name of, ice queen, what really got people to start calling you that was when they realized you were best friends with Yoon Jeonghan and Joshua Hong. AKA, two of the most charming gentlemen on campus that almost everyone wants to marry. They’re the epitome of the man you’d want to take home to introduce to your parents. They’re that nice.

But they’re evil when it’s just the three of you, with all the pranks the two pull and the cheating they do during games. You have not once beaten them in mario kart, and you’re on a mission to absolutely destroy them. 

Your peers just thought it was rather strange seeing you in between these two bright and happy guys. Who seemed to always have a smile on their faces. While you were just stone faced as they spoke to a fellow acquaintance or waved to someone they knew on campus. 

You think being called ice queen is great honestly. No one really tries to bother you, and if they do you kinda just… squint at them. This whole routine is wonderful for you. 

“Hi! Do you know where the café is? It’s my first day here, I just transferred.” You look up at the voice, prepared to squint at the man for bothering you as you sit on the bench waiting for the two stooges, only to feel your breath get taken away at the sight of his kind smile. 

His hair is blonde, and it’s fluffy over his forehead, making you think of a puppy. You feel the strongest urge to reach out and squish his cheeks as they remind you of bread. His eyes are full of nothing but happiness, and you swear to the Gods above that this man needs to be protected.

“I-it’s over there.” You stutter, pointing in the direction of the campus café. The man smiles happily at you, “Ah, thank you so much. Have a good day!” 

He walks off in the direction you pointed, leaving you absolutely breathless in your seat. You begin to question the authenticity of the sun in the sky when you’re 100% sure that you just saw the whole sun in that man’s smile. 

“I see that you met Chan.” Jeonghan states once him and Joshua walk up to you on the bench. They watch as you stare off in the sun’s direction. Joshua chuckles at your awestruck state, reaching out and patting your head. 

“No, that’s the sun.” You mutter unconsciously, watching as a guy walks up to the man named Chan and wraps his arm around his shoulders in greeting. You feel your cold heart warm at the sight of Chan’s smile, even if you’re only seeing half of it. 

“Maybe Chan is the cure for the ice queen’s heart.” Joshua jokes once you finally stand up from the bench after Chan is no longer in view, and you turn to glare at the two. Jeonghan coos, tilting his head to the side with a grin, “Andddd she’s back. I missed you yn, almost thought he thawed your cold heart.” 

“Shut up, Hannie.” You mutter, and the two laugh at your response. The three of you begin walking in the direction of Joshua’s car, and your eyes trail over towards the university café, your thoughts still on the pretty boy with the beautiful smile.

Maybe the routine can be tweaked a bit. Just a bit.

“You should’ve seen him yn. He literally panicked when he saw Minghao and ran into the wall. I almost pissed myself, shit was so funny.” Jeonghan tells you as he flips the meat that’s being grilled. Joshua reaches out and slaps his shoulder, a small blush prominent on his cheeks at the reminder that he embarrassed himself in front of the pretty exchange student from China. 

“I was nervous! He was walking in our direction and I almost passed away.” Joshua exclaims, causing Jeonghan to laugh at the memory. You just continue to stare at the meat, mind still stuck on Chan, the physical embodiment of the sun. Jeonghan takes notice of your silence, and lets out a grin.

“Wow, never thought I’d see the day where someone would be able to swoon you.” Jeonghan teases, and you finally glance up, shooting the lavender haired male a glare. He sends you a wink, and you take a piece of brisket and shove it in your mouth. “He was just… very pretty.”

“And we’re not pretty?” You glance up at the two, finding Joshua biting his lip aggressively and Jeonghan smiling widely at you. While you know your two best friends are very pretty, you’re not attracted to them. You see them as Thing 1 and Thing 2. You also don’t want to boost their already overly large ego, so you shake your head no. Joshua gasps while Jeonghan squints at you, and you shoot them finger guns. 

“So you gonna talk to Chan?” Jeonghan asks after placing some meat into your bowl, and you shake your head. Joshua’s eyes widen in confusion, “Why not?” 

“I stuttered when I spoke to him today. Stuttered. I don’t think I’m capable of having a whole ass conversation-” You pause when you realize something. 

From the moment Jeonghan and Joshua walked up to you after Chan left, they already knew his name. How could they know his name when he just transferred? How do they know him? Are they acquainted?? 

And so you slowly look up at the two, and they feel their heart drop into their asshole with the intense stare you’re giving them. Jeonghan gulps, and Joshua shoves some meat into his mouth. You tilt your head to the side, and Jeonghan quickly grasps Joshua’s hand under the table with the way your eye is twitching. 

“How did you know his name?” You ask, and Joshua lets out a tiny squeak with the thought that this might be the last thing he ever sees before his death.

he didn’t even get to tell minghao his name yet.

“H-he’s in our economics class.” Jeonghan answers, and you stare at the lavender haired man, the information processing in your head. You lean back in your seat, still glaring at the two as you still feel suspicious. Joshua catches onto what you might be thinking so he adds, “We didn’t send him your way, just so you know. We only knew of him cause he walked into class and smiled so brightly we swear we saw the gates of heaven.” 

You finally nod your head, feeling satisfied with their answers as you begin to eat again. Jeonghan lets out a quiet breath of relief, and Joshua runs a hand through his hair, feeling glad that he’ll still have the opportunity to tell Minghao that his name is Joshua. 

“His smile is rather nice.” You mumble, and Jeonghan chuckles. 

“It really is.”

“Hey Chan! Come sit with us!” Jeonghan says in a cheerful voice once he sees the young new transfer step into the auditorium. Chan smiles happily when he sees them, walking up the steps in their direction. Joshua lets out a grin, “Damn, his smile is so sweet I might just melt.” 

“Bro, same.”

“Hi guys! How was your weekend?” Chan asks as he settles down in the empty seat beside Jeonghan. The lavender haired beauty begins to tell Chan about how fun his weekend was. While Joshua recalls how you fell off his bunk bed at his shared dorm with Jeonghan, ending with you getting a large bruise on your thigh and holding Joshua in a headlock for five minutes. This information Jeonghan chooses to leave out as he and Chan discuss their weekends.

“How was your weekend, Joshua?” 

“What’s she doing here?” 

“Don’t make direct eye contact, I heard her glare is terrifying.” 

Joshua refrains from answering when he takes notice of the increased whispers around them. Jeonghan turns his head once he hears the mutter of the name, ice queen, and he glances up towards the entrance of the auditorium. 

“Oh neptune.” Joshua breathes out when he sees you standing there, holding one of Jeonghan’s sweaters in your arms. He squints when he realizes that’s the sweater Jeonghan’s been missing. You lock eyes with Jeonghan, letting out a breath and beginning to walk up the stairs. 

“Oh! She gave me directions last week. Is she your friend?” Chan asks as he watches you walk towards them, glancing around at all the stares and whispers you’ve been receiving. Joshua nods his head, waiting for the moment that you finally notice that the man you believe is the sun is sitting right beside Jeonghan. 

“Hannie, you left your sweater at my-” You pause when you make eye contact with the guy sitting right beside Jeonghan. Otherwise known as Chan, the man who you stuttered out a sentence to because he’s so fucking bright. 

Ah, there it is. Joshua thinks to himself as he smiles at your reaction.

“Hi! I’m Chan, you gave me directions last week. What’s your name?” Chan asks you, standing up from his seat to go and shake your hand. Jeonghan and Joshua question what you’ll do next, as you’re currently just standing there, staring at Chan with a blush rising to your cheeks. 

Imagine their surprise, as well as everyone else’s when you let out a close lipped smile, reaching out and grasping his hand. “I remember you, I’m yn.” 

“Holy shit.”

“Did she just?”

“There’s no way.”

“Oh my God, the ice queen just smiled and shook someone else’s hand.” 

You release Chan’s hand after giving it a firm shake, and he giggles, making your heart do a backflip within your chest. Jeonghan and Joshua let out quiet chuckles at how pink your cheeks are, deciding right then and there that you’re going to fall in love with Chan. 

“Oh, sorry. I just interrupted you as you were giving Jeonghan back his sweater.” Chan apologizes, and you immediately lift your hands up and give him a reassuring smile. Which causes the room to erupt in more whispers at the fact that you smiled not once, but twice at Chan. 

“It’s okay! I don’t mind.” You tell Chan as you chuck the sweater directly at Jeonghan’s face without so much as a glance. Jeonghan sputters once the cotton hits his face, causing Joshua to burst into his melodic laughter. 

“Bitch!” 

“This isn’t about you Jeonghan.” You say through your teeth, and Chan laughs at the whole interaction between you three. The sound of his laugh is like music to your ears, and you want to be able to hear it again. The four of you turn when you hear the sound of the professor's voice, and you flash Chan a regretful smile. 

“I have to go. It was nice meeting you.” Chan nods his head, smiling and waving at you as you begin to head down the stairs.

“I hope to talk to you again!” Chan calls out, and you stop for a moment. You turn your head and give him a big thumbs up, before walking out of the auditorium. 

The students around Chan all stare at him with gaping mouths, and he raises an eyebrow at all the attention. He walks back to his seat, sitting down and opening up his journal. The students look away once the professor begins speaking again, calling for their attention so that he can take roll. 

“You must truly be the embodiment of the sun if you were able to make yn smile at you like that.” Jeonghan says in awe once his name is called, and Joshua nods his head in agreement. Chan just lets out a chuckle, shaking his head at the two. 

“Yn’s nice.” Chan mutters as he prepares his highlighters. Jeonghan and Joshua turn to share a glance, before bursting into quiet laughter. Chan raises an eyebrow at the two, noticing that they show no signs of letting up, and he lets out a quiet sigh. 

she’s kind to me so far, so i hope i can get her to be kind to everyone else. 

“I’ll have the jasmine green milk tea, less ice, full sweetness, anddd tapioca please. That’ll be all.” You tell the cashier. They nod their head, and you’re about to hand them your card when someone reaches over, handing them their credit card. 

“Add a green tea with fresh milk and tapioca pearls as well! It’s on me, thank you.” You frown at the familiarity of the voice, and you turn your head, only for your breath to get taken away at the close proximity between you and Chan’s faces. His eyes go wide, and you watch as a blush rises to his cheeks when he takes a step back, allowing you to breathe again.

“Sorry.” He mutters sheepishly, and you shake your head, pinching your arm to try and redirect the heat that’s rushing to your face. “It’s fine, you don’t have to apologize. However…” 

The cashier hands Chan back his card, making you both take a pause in your conversation for a quick second. Once he has the order number and the card back in his wallet, the two of you walk over to a nearby table to wait for your boba. 

Chan gulps when you turn and squint at him, finally understanding why the other students seem to fear your glare. You reach out and point at his chest, and his eyes widen slightly, before looking back up at your face. 

“I owe you now.” You simply state, before retracting your finger and running a hand through your hair. Chan shakes his head, giving you a smile, “No, no! It’s fine. I just wanted to-”

“No, I owe you.” You interrupt, and Chan shakes his head again. You find yourself squinting at the pretty guy whom you may have a raging heart boner for, and Chan lets out a nervous chuckle. “I originally wanted to treat you for coffee, but I found out from Jeonghan and Joshua that you prefer boba. Imagine my surprise when I actually saw you ordering.” 

You bite the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from breaking out into a full blown smile. You purse your lips instead, nodding your head, “Well, this is my favorite boba spot. They make really good tapioca pearls, so you made a good choice coming here.” 

Chan grins, opening his mouth to respond when he hears the order number being called. He stands up to go and get it but you stop him by raising a hand up at his face, already on your way to the stand. “I’ll get it. You already paid for the drinks, it’d be crazy for me to make you get the boba too.” 

Chan nods, sitting back in the stool and watching you walk over to the stand. You nod your head at the employee, thanking them for the boba before walking back to you and Chan’s table. You sit down in the stool across from him, handing him his order and straw. You open up the straw, only to pause when you realize Chan is just staring at you, hands folded politely, and you raise an eyebrow. “Aren’t you going to drink it?”

Chan’s eyes widen and he lets out an embarrassed laugh, rubbing the back of his neck as he grabs the straw. “I just. Some people like taking videos of poking the straw through the lid, and I wasn’t sure if you’re that type of person.” 

You let out a giggle at how embarrassed Chan seems, and his eyes widen at the sound, looking up and seeing you smiling softly at him. The smiles he’s received from you have always been just a slight tilt of the corner of your lips, or a close-lipped smile. This is a full blown smile. With teeth and everything! 

He doesn’t register the blush rising to his cheeks due to how pretty you look with a smile on your face. He just finds himself in awe at how he believes your smile might just be his favorite in the world. You shove your straw through the plastic seal before glancing back up at Chan, “I’m not that type of person. I get boba way too much for me to do that.” 

Chan nods his head, snapping out of his temporary trance as he shoves his own straw into his drink. The two of you take a sip of your bobas, both nodding in satisfaction at the sweet taste. Your weekly boba fix is finally being fulfilled, and you’re happy. 

“How did you meet Jeonghan and Joshua? The three of you seem really close.” Chan asks, and you purse your lips at the memory. You glance up at Chan to see him waiting in anticipation and you sigh, “It’s a rather ridiculous story if you’re still willing to hear it.” 

Chan nods his head, and you chuckle, thus ensuing you spending the next half hour telling the pretty boy all about how you met the two stooges. Chan thinks you’re a great storyteller with the way you explain things. From the vivid details, to the way you perfectly mimic Jeonghan and Joshua’s voices, Chan feels as if he’s the one who met Jeonghan and Joshua in the boys bathroom. 

“So you’re telling me that you accidentally walked into the boys restroom, saw Joshua and Jeonghan, and they told you to just use the stall?” 

“Yes.”

“And you did?” Chan asks, and you nod your head. He lets out a loud laugh, and you find yourself smiling at the contagious sound. You raise your hands up in the air, “I told you it was a ridiculous story!” 

“So now the three of you have been inseparable ever since?” You nod your head again, and Chan smiles. You take a sip of your boba, feeling your heart warm at the fact that you’re spending time with the guy you wholeheartedly believe is the sun. Your phone vibrates on the table and you glance down at the screen, and you let out a sigh when you read the text.

joshushu: we’re at your dorm

we have chicken

jeongjeongie: we fought a raccoon on our way here pls come home quickly

we have battle scars

joshushu: no we don’t

jeongjeongie: shut the fuck up joshua im trying to get yn to come back quicker

joshushu: bruh

“You have to go?” Chan asks, and you regretfully nod your head. You turn your phone and show Chan the screen, and he lets out a giggle at the text Jeonghan sent. The two of you get off the stools, and walk out of the small boba shop after throwing away your garbage. 

“It was nice getting to know you, Chan.” You tell the pretty boy honestly, and he smiles. “Likewise. I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

You give him a thumbs up, and with that, the two of you turn around and begin walking your separate ways. Only for you to stop when you hear Chan shout out your name, causing you to turn back around to see what he needs to say. 

Chan smiles, feeling his heart rage against his chest at the visual of the sun beginning to set behind you. It’s as if you’re glowing as you stare at him, and he wonders how anyone could possibly call you the ice queen. He cups his hands over his mouth and says, “You look pretty when you smile!” 

And with that, he turns around and walks away, leaving you standing in the middle of the sidewalk. Your eyes are wide, mouth slightly dropped open, and a furious blush to your cheeks as you watch Chan walk off into the crowd. You raise your hands to your face, biting the inside of your cheek. 

Next thing you know you’re sprinting to the dorms, and everything is like a blur. From the moment you swipe your card to enter the building, to you running to the elevator and basically punching your floor button.

which scares your neighbors in the elevator with you but it’s fine.

You finally make it to your dorm room and shove your key into the lock, quickly unlocking the door and stepping inside to see Jeonghan and Joshua playing on your switch. They pause their game of smash bros at the sight of you panting, and Jeonghan raises an eyebrow. 

“Did the raccoon get you too?” 

You shake your head, and he curses under his breath. Joshua stares at you for a moment longer, taking in the sight of your red cheeks, to the sparkle in your eyes, and that’s when a lightbulb goes off in his head. He sits up from the floor, pointing at you, “Did you just see Chan?”

And with that, you kneel onto the carpet and excitedly tell your two best friends everything that happened at the boba shop. From the moment Chan paid for your boba, to him telling you that you look pretty when you smile, and then your sprint all the way back here. 

It’s a lot to process for Joshua and Jeonghan as they stay silent for a moment. You raise an eyebrow at them, reaching out to your desk and grabbing your water bottle, taking a long sip. Jeonghan purses his lips and he glances at you as you basically chug all the water. 

“Did you get his number though?” 

The water did not make it down when you realized that you absolutely didn’t get his number.

“Yn, can you go and ask Mingyu to come over here?” Jeonghan asks you as the four of you eat in the campus café. You raise an eyebrow at him, and Chan smiles at your reaction. “You have legs. Go use them.”

Jeonghan glares at you, and you glare back. Your lavender haired friend lets out a sigh, “I’ll get you boba later.”

“Done.” You state, standing up from the table without another word and walking over to Mingyu’s table. Chan chuckles, “She’ll do anything for boba, huh?” 

Joshua nods his head, letting out a disappointed sigh at how easy you fall into the hands of capitalism. Jeonghan just shrugs his shoulders, “If it gets her to do stuff for me that I’m too lazy to do, it’s fine by me.” 

You already notice the eyes on you as you finally reach Mingyu’s table, his friends staring at you with expressions that range from fear to trying to appear neutral. Mingyu glances up at you, and he almost chokes on his rice when he realizes you’re standing right in front of him. 

“Y-yes?” Mingyu asks in a quiet voice, and you give him a smile, “Jeonghan asked if you could go over and talk to him, he was too lazy to come over here though. He bribed me with boba so that’s why I’m here.” 

You take in the silence of his friends, and you look them over to see that all their mouths are dropped open. Your eyes fall back on Mingyu to see him also in the same state as his friends, and you bite the inside of your cheek. “Uh, Mingyu? Did you hear what I said?

Mingyu immediately stands up from his seat, nodding his head and giving you a smile. “Yeah! Sorry, yn. It’s just that I’ve never seen you smile before.” You let out an, ah, and grin at him. 

Ever since Chan told you that you look pretty when you smile two weeks ago, you made the decision to start smiling at people and being nicer last week. Today is your first day of trying out that decision, and you weren’t expecting this type of reaction at all.

You and Mingyu begin walking over towards your table, and that’s when you take notice of everyone staring at you. You seriously begin to question whether smiling at Mingyu was truly that big of a deal that you need to be stared at, but alas. 

“I’ve brought Mingyu! Don’t forget my boba later.” You tell Jeonghan as you sit down in your seat beside Chan. You pick up some rice with your chopsticks and place it into your mouth, only to register the silence at your own table. You glance up to see Jeonghan and Joshua gaping at you, while Chan just eats quietly while paying attention to what’s going on. You raise an eyebrow defensively, “What?” 

Jeonghan leans forwards in his seat, reaching up and grasping your face with his hands, looking you over. You swat his hands away and he leans back, still looking flabbergasted. “You smiled.” 

You nod your head slowly, taking a bite of katsu as you do so. Joshua leans forward in his seat this time, poking your cheek, and you smack his hand away. “At someone who isn’t us.” 

You let out a sigh, before gesturing to Mingyu who is just awkwardly standing beside Jeonghan, wondering why he was called over. This seems to snap Jeonghan out of him overanalyzing your every move for a second, and he begins talking to Mingyu about their project in English. 

“I just decided to be nice.” You mutter, and Joshua’s eyes bulge out of their sockets. Jeonghan freezes mid-conversation with Mingyu at your answer, turning to look at you. 

“You? Nice?! What happened? Did you fall out of a tree?” Joshua asks hurriedly, and you shake your head at him. Jeonghan reaches across the table and grasps your hand, “Are you sure the raccoon didn’t get you too?”

You snatch your hand away before reaching out and bonking Jeonghan in the head, making him cry out in pain. “Enough with the raccoon! And yes, I’m fine!” Chan watches in interest as you argue with your two friends, while Mingyu decides to just step away and walk back to his table.

“Listen to me!” You exclaim, and Joshua and Jeonghan quiet down. You motion to Chan, and he points at himself, and you nod your head. “I got the opportunity to become close with Chan because I gave him the time of day when he asked me for directions. I realized that I could end up meeting a lot more cool people like him if I was just nicer.” 

Jeonghan raises a hand to his mouth in shock, while Joshua’s eyes tear up at the fact that you’re being deadass. Chan just lets out a smile, happy that he was able to convince you to be nicer. However, you’re hiding the fact that the main reason for you being nice and smiling at people more is simply because Chan said you look pretty when you smile. 

“Oh my God, she’s no longer the ice queen.” Joshua mutters, and you roll your eyes. “Listen… I’m going to be nice to those who deserve me being nice too. However, it’s still ice queen to anyone else.” 

Jeonghan nods his head before turning to Chan and giving him a grateful smile, “I know I made a joke when you and yn first started talking that you’d thaw her cold heart, but I just wanted to thank you for actually thawing her cold ass heart.” 

You shoot a glare at Jeonghan, causing Chan to laugh. He reaches out and pats your head, making you freeze in your spot, “Happy to help.” 

Joshua coos when he notices how pink your cheeks are turning and you let out a whine, reaching out to bonk his head too. However, Joshua’s fast so he’s able to dodge the power of the bonk. You sigh, leaning back and taking a bite of your food. “I hate it here.” 

Joshua quickly poses by puckering his lips and winking at you, while Jeonghan smiles brightly and sends you a peace sign. You frown at how fast they coordinated their poses, before turning your head to speak to Chan, only for your eyes to widen when you see him winking and sending you finger guns. 

“But you love us, right?” The three ask simultaneously, and you stare at them in silence before you burst into laughter at their antics. The whole café turns in shock at the sound of you laughing, something they’ve never been able to see or hear before. The three all smile at the sight of you giggling at them, and Chan feels his heart burst at the sight. 

“You guys are so stupid.” You finally mutter after you calm down, and they laugh. 

“Oh wait, did I tell you guys about-” You glance up when you see Joshua frozen in his spot, and you turn your head to see Minghao entering the café with his friend Jun. They begin to walk past your table, and that’s when the most shocking thing happens. 

Minghao turns and makes eye contact with Joshua, and he waves at your best friend with a tentative smile, “Hi Joshua.” 

The three of you watch Joshua internally malfunction as he waves back at Minghao, “Hi Minghao.”

When Minghao and Jun finally walk past the table, Joshua turns his head and stares at Jeonghan with wide eyes. You bite back a smile when Joshua stands up from his seat and punches the air happily, Jeonghan and Chan congratulating him on his crush knowing his name. 

You look at the three of them with fondness in your gaze, and you finally let yourself smile, giggling as Joshua jumps happily. You shake your head, taking a bite of rice and placing it into your mouth. 

Who would’ve thought that the ice queen’s heart would thaw when the virtue of kindness joined her life? 

Definitely not you.

ミ★ previous | masterlist | next

[scorched-light]

Here is my The Last of Us Part 2 review for anyone who is interested to know about the leaks and if the story was done any justice. The answer is the leaks were basically on point and no. No it was not. Spoilers below, don't read on if you're after a spoiler free review. Final warning: End of Game Spoilers for The Last of Us Part 2!!! Do not read if you don't want spoilers!

Okay. As someone who adores the first game, it pains me to say this but I'm so disappointed with this overpriced horror show. A complete deconstruction of the first game and the characters you developed a connection to therein. Just a complete brutality to basically every character new and old, and the whole franchise's reputation.

Joel announcing his name to a group of strangers he already seemed suspicious of despite knowing that people could be looking for him after what he did was so forced and out of character. This man hit a guy with his truck on the off chance that he might be faking his injuries. He was always super cautious, wary of strangers, and aware of his surroundings.

Ellie walking in on Joel getting beaten to death, GUN IN HAND, and not immediately shooting Abby was also incredibly ooc. Even if she was shocked, this is the girl who shot a man at age 14 to save Joel, here she charges in through the door instead of shooting when she's had years worth of experience shooting first and asking questions later. A lot of the ooc stuff she does after his death is excusable by her obvious trauma up until the ending, at least, but it's still bad writing.

Poor writing, not just in the overall story but also in terms of the characters, is literally used as a gratuitous stepping stone (AKA a shameless excuse) to get to all of the brutal, gorey violence. Not to mention it ends in a bleak way with no silver lining at all. Compare that to the way the first one, while bleak in nature still had its nice moments. Its moments of "ya know what maybe this hellscape is worth sticking around for." It made you feel things. The giraffe scene? Running out of the hospital holding Ellie as Joel gently, desperately tells her she's okay? Beautiful, complexly emotional moments But this game? I'd get more emotional fulfillment shoving fingernail clippings up my ass hole.

Don't get me wrong, I expected it to be bleak. The tone of the game is post-apocalypse. It revolves around death and the ugliness of man and yes yes it's all very grim. That kind of prepares you for how this isn't going to be a totally happy story. But everything they built up and established in the first game is just burned to the ground.

All the gameplay is basically the same as the first with some exploration buffs and NPC tweeks, companion AI feels clunkier now but a lot of the interactions between your people and between enemies outside of cutscenes feels very fluid and natural. That said, a lot of the stuff that's good about the game is done in flashbacks to when Ellie was younger. The actual current story they're telling had potential but the executuion is poor.

The game is trying so hard to get a specific reaction while blowing holes in why and how you should feel that way. We are supposed to empathise with Abby just because we are exposed to her when we're forced to play as her? We are supposed to think bad of Ellie when she killed Mel after Mel attacked her first instead of just pleading "I'm pregnant!"?

Abby killed the man that saved her life brutally and mercilessly. She wasn't able to empathise at all, but you are expected to empathise with her? She even goes on to have a similar, protective sort of relationship with Lev as Joel did with Ellie. Maybe not in a parental way, but the parallels are still there. A notable one is when she's carrying Lev bridal style in her arms off of the island, the same way Joel carried Ellie.

The writing even frames Ellie as being bad, killing a pregnant woman (even though she didn't know and upon finding out, falls to her knees and heaves), and frames Abby as good/the victim, helping and protecting Lev, a victim of transphobia, and slowly discovering and watching more and more of her friends as they die. They try to manipulate you as the player with bad writing.

It really could have been a good story had they spent more time on Ellie working through her feelings towards Joel and his decision to save her. Maybe Abby kills Tommy so Joel can know what it's like to lose a loved one, maybe Ellie is forced to join with him again on their journey for revenge, maybe she more or less HAS to face up to what happened while begrudgingly working with him. Especially after her constantly telling him she doesn't need his help.

He still could have died, maybe before they *really* fix everything. Maybe he gets bitten, that'd be poetic, he robbed humanity of the cure and then died to the infection. Ellie has to face up to the fact that he'd be alive if she had died, and he has to face that too. He also wouldn't have been bitten at all had he not been out for revenge in the first place, so his death would be the price of them wanting revenge for revenge, AND be a much better way of showcasing the cycle of loss being the cycle of revenge in a way that doesn't come across as incredibly redundant for the environment they're in. Ellie really would be The Last of Us. The last of the iconic duo that gave the series its incredible reputation. She could go on to kill Abby and realise it's not made her feel any better, now they've lost Tommy AND Joel, and nothing is going to bring Joel back.

ANYTHING would have been better than what we got. Joel's death 2 hours in was super premature and such a meaningless way to go for a character like Joel. Not to mention the character that looks like Neil Druckman spitting on his corpse but whatever, I digress.

All of this and the fact that the ending is not at aaaaall worth it makes this feel so incredibly soulless. They wanted to go down the route of "is there really a good guy in this kind of world?", and that idea could have worked even for the grim reality in which the story takes place. But then they butcher the execution, force you to play as the character who beat Joel to death for a massive portion of the game, and leave off with a terrible ending.

!Here come the end of game spoilers!

Ellie stated in the first game that she's most afraid of ending up alone, and they did that to her. She suddenly realises that Killing Is Wrong after slaughtering countless men and women to get to this moment with Abby. She is in the middle of drowning her and suddenly lets her live. This woman killed Joel, almost killed Dina. In fact, upon hearing that Dina was pregnant from a battered and bleeding Ellie, she says "Good.", and proceeds to almost slit her throat only that Lev stops her. But Ellie suddenly forgets all of that and lets her leave.

Ellie goes back to the farm she and Dina were living on with their baby only to find Dina has left, as she warned Ellie she would if she leaves for revenge again. The revenge Ellie didn't even get. She goes into a room and sees her guitar in its case. She pulls it out and learns she can no longer play the way Joel showed her all those years ago because she had her fingers bitten off during the struggle with Abby. She props the guitar up by the window, almost as if in memory of the man who taught her to play, and leaves it behind. She has no use for it now. Ellie walks through the field outside, alone. Joel dead. Tommy partially paralysed but his characterisation definitely got massacred. Dina gone. Cut to credits. Game over.

There isn't even a slither of happiness in this game. Was the lesson "revenge is bad"? Because if so, they should have rolled the credits as soon as Abby killed Joel and told players "if that made you uncomfortable, do not seek revenge." In big writing before rolling the credits.

Either way the ending would leave you shifting uncomfortably with a bad taste in your mouth.

I won't even go into how the trailers lied. "You think I'd let you do this alone?" Tell that to Abby's driver. I'm interested to see how quickly the price drops on the PlayStation Store. Even if it gets cheap, I wouldn't bother subjecting yourself to this trashfire.

[thatshankcallednewt]

The Death Cure: Gally - Forgive You in a Heartbeat; Part One

Summary: Set in The Death Cure, you and Minho are prisoners of WCKD as Thomas and Newt reach out to a ghost from the past for help in your rescue. 

Usually, I write character’s physical description based off the books (Thomas’ blue eyes, for example) however, this time since I’m following the film plot, I decided to change it up and go with the cast. Hope that’s alright!

You felt the grass between your fingers, and you peered up at the sun, your hand raised over your eyes to keep your face shaded from the sunlight. The blue sky was clear, and you could see the top of the maze walls. The vines snaked up the grey concrete and birds nested near the top.

      There was an echo of voices. You turned, still sitting in the green grass, and saw your friends lining up for lunch at Frypan’s kitchen. By the look on most boys’ faces, you could tell Fry’s stew was on the menu again.

      “Hungry?” a voice asked beside you.

      You turned at the sound and met eyes with a pair of blue ones. Gally sat across from you, his damp shirt clung to his chest from all the sweat of working hard during the day. You stared at him as if he weren’t supposed to be there… but that moment passed quickly, and you smiled.

      “Not sure… I think I just want to enjoy the sun a little while longer.”

      He nodded; a look crossed over his eyes as he stared at you. You couldn’t place the emotion behind it.

      He scooted closer to you so that he sat beside you instead of across from you. He was so close that his leg brushed by yours. He glanced up at the clear sky, “Sun’s beating down on us today, I think I might have to call it quits with the Builders.”

      “Too much sun never hurt anyone,” you said, a little too suggestively.

      He realized you were commenting on all the sweaty guys hard at work, and he shook his head, an amused grin spread his lips thin, “You’re gonna get in so much trouble if Alby hears you talking like that, you know.”

      “I’m only joking… mostly,” you teased.

      Gally smirked, “Hope you’re not joking about me.”

      You shook your head, laughing. You covered your mouth with your hand as you laughed, with hopes to hide the blush that flushed your cheeks pink. “How do you know I was even talking about you?” you asked, playing his game. “Maybe I was talking about…” your eyes quickly scanned the group of boys still out in the sun, “Maybe I was talking about Newt.”

      Newt was out near the gardens again, chopping down another dead tree near the forest line. He was sweating hard, so much so that every few minutes, he would wipe the sweat off his forehead with the front of his shirt, exposing the skin of his stomach.

      “Yeah right,” Gally remarked, rolling his eyes. But he watched Newt a little longer anyway, his jaw unusually clenched, his eyes narrowed.

      You suddenly felt a wave of sadness hit you, all too quickly. You couldn’t understand where it came from. It was a beautiful day, though a little hotter than usual, but there wasn’t anything to complain about. You had everything you needed.

      You felt a pang in your chest as you stared at Gally, who was now too preoccupied with a frayed strand of his pants to notice you looking at him. He was tugging at it carefully, trying not to rip a new hole in them again, otherwise you’d have to sew them up for the seventh time that week.

      “Gally?” you suddenly asked, and there was an unusual sound to your voice, like you were afraid.

      He looked up at you quickly, noticing the way your voice changed. His eyes narrowed as he tried to figure out what was wrong. He blinked, “You okay?”

      You breathed in and out. You swallowed the dryness from your mouth. The sadness… the fear… it disappeared as quickly as it had come. You looked at him, a little confused, “I’m okay.” You frowned, looking at your hand. You found his eyes again, “I’m happy… to be here. I always liked these moments, sitting on the grass in the sun. Waiting for you to go on break so you could sit with me. It was my favorite part of the day.” You spoke like it had been a million years since you last saw him.

      He smiled and his hand reached for your hand in the grass, his fingers brushed over the back of your hand, “Me too.”

      Gally disappeared and instead of sitting on the grass amongst the bustling Glade, you were standing in the maze. The change of scenery was a sudden shock and you felt that same fear and confusion as before. You peered up at the giant walls, the sun was going down, and it would be night soon. Which only meant one thing.

      You ran towards what you thought was the Glade. As you got nearer, you heard sudden shouting from the others. You urged yourself to go faster, to beat the sun, beat the walls from closing at the entrance. You were out of breath, but you kept pushing your legs harder and harder, hoping against all hope that you would make it through in time. But as you turned the last corner and saw your friends shouting at you from within the Glade, they quickly disappeared behind the doors as they slid shut.

      You stopped in your tracks; your mouth open as you sucked in oxygen. You turned around but instead of seeing the maze walls, you saw the room where Gally had died. Sudden memories spilled into your mind of escaping the Glade and coming here, only to witness the deaths of two friends.

      You were breathing quickly as you walked through the room. You looked at all the fallen bodies laying in the broken glass. A lot of them you didn’t recognize… until you found him. You shouted his name and ran to where he lay, dropping to your knees, you hovered over his body. It didn’t seem as though he was breathing, the spear in his chest stuck out still and blood drenched his clothes and pooled around him.

      You felt tears fill your eyes and his face grew blurry with your vision. You wiped your tears away with your fingers, only to wipe his blood on your cheeks. You searched the room for your friends but there wasn’t anyone else left alive, only you.

      A clicking sound echoed down the hall. It clicked and whirred and there was metal against metal. It clanged and echoed as it grew louder and louder. You lifted your head, tearing your eyes away from Gally, and saw it. A Griever.

      You slowly stood up, eyeing your only other exit. When it moved again, you dashed out from where you stood and made a run for it. You could hear the thing chasing you, racing to catch up to you, and your heart leaped in your throat, but the adrenaline you felt kept you going. You ran down a long stretch of a hallway, where you had exited the maze, and screamed for someone to help you—

      You opened your eyes, briefly. You fought to keep them open. The room you were in was white and clean, sterile. You could smell a faint chemical odor. You glanced around the room at the people who supervised you, though clearly unaware of your consciousness. They wore white lab coats and a bunch of machinery surrounded you, flashing and lighting up. Computer screens. All monitoring your physical health.

      You spotted Teresa with a clipboard in her hands by the entrance to your room.

      Your cheeks were wet with unconscious tears. They had put you under again, tormenting you with memories and trials from the maze. Using your memories with Gally to lull you into some kind of compliant participance.

      You remembered when Janson and Ava came for you all out in the Scorch with their Berg. You remembered getting captured with Minho. But everything else between then and now was a blur. But you knew that they were only using you for more of their WCKD experiments.

      It wasn’t fair. You never agreed to this. And to spend most of your days trapped in the maze, running from Grievers again… only to produce the serum they so greedily wanted… but most of all, to force you to see Gally alive and well again, only to show you his death, over and over… it was too much.

      You struggled against your restraints, a loud groan escaping your lips. You shook your shackles and it got the attention of your doctors. They rushed to your side, despite your loud protests, and you felt a needle prick into your skin. It stung for a moment before you started feeling drowsy again. You pleaded with them to let you go, to not let you go back into that place again, but it was already too late. Soon, you would go back under, and who knew where you’d end up next.

      The last thing you saw before everything went dark was Teresa’s blue eyes.

                                                            ***

Gally couldn’t believe his eyes when he spotted Thomas and the others in the crowd of rebels. He almost choked on air when he met eyes with his, but he quickly realized that Thomas couldn’t see through the dusty visor of his mask. He was thankful for that, at least, because no reunion with him would be a happy one.

      He hopped off the truck and kept close to the edge of the crowd that advanced towards the Last City walls. He ordered a couple guys to park their cars around the edge of the outskirt ruins, and then told the others to follow him. He instructed them of their target. He would just have to hope that Thomas and the others would forgive him.

      The first to notice their apparent stalking was Newt, of course. Gally could’ve picked it. Newt was always looking out for trouble. But it wouldn’t matter soon, because there were way too many people for all of the Gladers to realize they were gaining on them.

      He spotted Frypan and Thomas near the front of the crowd, with Newt still lingering behind, glancing back at him and his men every so often. There was a girl with them that he didn’t recognize, she had dark hair that was cut into a bob and she was much shorter than the boys. Then there was a man with them, he looked older with grey hairs speckled through his scruffy face.

      When Gally realized that they were the only ones left from the maze, he felt his stomach drop. He double-checked, searching for the only person that really mattered to him, but he couldn’t find you in the crowd at all. He gripped his gun and nodded to his men.

      They started advancing towards the group, which only caused Newt to finally inform Thomas about their existence, when the tall machinery near the entrance to the city suddenly swung at the crowd of people. Everyone stopped by the security gate and stared. Gally knew all too quickly what was about to go down.

      He only had seconds before the guns started shooting at people. A mass of bullets, shouting and exploding dirt ensued as he ran towards the vans that they had parked behind the city ruins. He caught up with his men and they prepared to kidnap the others as they came around the corner.

      He grabbed the girl and Thomas and shoved them both into his van, and he climbed in with one of his men before it could take off. They would drive back to home base.

      Thomas looked at Gally a little too hard and Gally squirmed under his stare.

      They finally arrived back at the compound and Gally hurried his hostages out of the van. He couldn’t take waiting anymore. He practically threw his mask off and ditched it somewhere on the ground. He caught eyes with Thomas.

      Thomas leaped and him, punching him square in the mouth, and Gally fell to the floor. His men began to make a move, but he ordered them to stop. Thomas held the collar of Gally’s shirt, it twisted and bunched up in his dirty fingers, and he swore at him for killing Chuck.

      Newt was the one to calm Thomas down, gently pulling him off of Gally. Gally looked at Newt gratefully but there wasn’t kindness in his brown eyes, only betrayal.

      Gally swallowed, “What the hell are you doing here?”

      Thomas shook Newt off him but didn’t go for another punch-up, “We’re trying to get into the city.”

      Gally stared at him. He rubbed his shaven head and glanced at his men.

      “Who is this guy?” the old man asked, a threatening tone to his voice. He was still angry that they separated him from the girl.

      “An old friend,” Newt replied, somewhat sarcastically.

      Gally looked them over. They’d definitely seen better days. But the pang of hurt in his heart was almost too much, he clenched his jaw and tried not to think too hard about you. “Okay,” he said, looking at Thomas, “Why the hell are you here?”

      Thomas swallowed, looking to Newt for some kind of reassurance. He was still pissed and on edge. He never expected to see Gally again, after witnessing his “death” with Chuck… but Newt was right, Gally was stung out of his mind and not thinking straight. He’d known that all along, but he never wanted to admit it because it was so much easier being angry at him.

      Thomas sighed, looking back to Gally, “We’re here to… rescue Minho and Y/N.”

      Gally’s eyes widened, “Y/N’s alive?”

      Thomas nodded, “We think so. WCKD took her and Minho back in the Scorch. They wouldn’t have taken her if she weren’t important… if she weren’t Immune. They wouldn’t kill her if they could use her for something, so…”

      “So, she’s one of the Munies being used for the serum,” Gally concluded, glancing away from Thomas. He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t describe how he was feeling. From thinking you must have died to now having this hope that you were alive… “I think I might have a way inside.”

      “You’re going to help us?” Thomas asked, doubting his motive.

      “Lawrence will have to have a word with you, but I’m sure he’ll see reason to let you help us,” Gally said quickly, ushering them toward Lawrence’s room. “Besides,” he eyed Thomas as they walked, his stare suddenly firm, “If there’s a chance of saving Y/N…”

      “And Minho,” Newt added.

      “And Minho,” Gally repeated, glancing back at the blond boy, “then I’m all in.”

      Thomas nodded, realizing that Gally would risk anything to get you back, which was the kind of help they needed right now, “Good that.”

[writingsbychlo]

feels like loneliness (12)

word count; 8976

summary; you make a last minute decision to save your friend, even f it means risking your own life, and thomas can’t accept it.

notes; I sobbed while writing this, y’all don’t stand a chance.

warnings; character death, injury, gore, violence, explosions, gun use, bombs, near-death experience, angst.

“this is the last time I play this game”

You had barely made it three streets over before the screaming of the kids caught your ear, stonework crumbling and metal screeching behind you and you shook your head, a small smile on your lips as you watched the bus roll awkwardly along the side of a building as it gained more and more height. “I’m so glad that’s not me.”

It was soon lifted over your head, and you stopped your movements for a second in order to watch it go, the crane twisting as it made it safely over the wall, and you squeezed your eyes shut, your heart lifting a little at knowing at least the busload of kids were safe, as was Brenda. Now, you only had to worry about the rest of your friends.

Spinning, you ran forward through the cities you knew, being careful to stick to shadows as you navigated the buildings, more and more guards flying past on foot and in cars, but they were all too preoccupied to notice your lonesome presence sneaking back towards the tower. After all, why would anyone still be trying to sneak in?

You were almost there, you could see the building before you, the entrance to it, the pool at the bottom, and the guards still laying unconscious on the floor. Before you could take another step, the ground shook, an explosion booming loudly and your eyes tore to the suddenly formed hole in the wall, the glass on the building shattering from the sonic boom and you stumbled from the impact.

You weren’t sure what had happened, you were staring at the gap, before suddenly it had clicked with you.

The group beyond the wall, the freedom fighters who had been determined to take down WCKD, now with their defences down as you all fought to save Minho, they had the chance to fight, and they’d taken it. The sweeping realisation of why Lawrence hadn’t wanted anything in return for the equipment you had needed came flooding over you like a tidal wave and you gripped at your stomach as crushing emotions poured in.

The man had never needed time to get more cure, he had needed time to take down the organisation that took everything from him, and unknowingly, you had given him just that. With a small smile, you nodded your thanks towards the explosion, knowing he may be out there somewhere, or perhaps already dead, but he wouldn’t make it to the end of the night no matter what. 

After taking a moment, you were quickly on your feet again, bolting across the roads to stand outside of the building, peering up at it carefully, just to realise how high up you were going to have to go. At your feet, a guard lay unconscious, twitching and jumping as electricity still jumped over his body occasionally and you grimaced, leaning down to pluck the keycard from him carefully, before making your way cautiously towards the entrance. 

Lawrence’s distractions had surprisingly done wonders for you, with the level of people fleeing and darting around the building in pure terror, you were able to navigate your way through the lobby easily, nobody even casting you a second glance as you walked right through the crowd, shouldering past people aggressively. 

Kicking your way into a stairwell, you panted as the door shut behind you, the muffled sounds of continued explosions and gunfire picking up outside as the city was raided and reclaimed by the outsiders. Your breath was the only thing you could hear clearly, the sharp and crisp sounds as you tried to pull breath into your lungs rung out and echoed loudly as you began dashing up the steps, checking the signs at each level for ones that read labs. 

Your body was aching, muscles sore and you were you had climbed so high that you could no longer see the floor at the bottom of the winding staircase when you looked down, your vision blurring as you dizzied and you had to drag your feet up to the next level.

You checked the sign, reading it twice as the likelihood of finding the words you were looking for had felt like they had become impossible, but there they were, written clear as day on a sign and you dropped your head back for a second, a small cheer leaving your lips as you found the level you were looking for. 

With a renewed sense of hope, you could finally enter the corridor, and the second you opened it, the peaceful silence of the staircase was blasted away, your eyes widening and adrenaline flooding your system as alarms blared and workers screamed while they ran, the fight outside much louder now as broken windows allowed the amplified sounds to travel into the building with ease. 

Dropping your bag at your feet, you rifled through it, pulling out your notebook and gripping it tightly as you swung the pack back up onto your arm, only bothering with the one strap, your fingers drumming against the worn leather as you stepped from the gentle ease of the staircase and into the panicked ess of the corridors.

You followed along, your body constantly being shoved and rammed by those who were desperately fleeing but you pushed on, checking inside each window for the room you were looking for along the vacating floor, and you beamed when you found it. Sliding the card through the scanner on the door, the light flashed from red to green in a split second, and you quickly made your way into the room, stopping in your tracks as you saw who was still sitting at the desk, her head lifting to look at you and shock covered her own features when she registered your presence.

Her gaze flicked from your eyes, to the notebook clenched in your hands, and she was still for a moment as the cogs turned in her head before she gasped loudly, spinning in her chair to face you. “You know, don’t you? You worked it out, you know how to make the cure!” You licked over your lips, your hand flying to the gun on your thigh and she held her hands up quickly, shaking her head as her jaw hung open. “No! No, wait! I can help you!”

“And why the fuck would I trust you, Teresa?” 

“I can get you access to the equipment you need, to save Newt. To save everyone!” You hesitated, before swallowing thickly, your head dipping in a nod. 

“I see one dodgy thing I don’t like, I will shoot you, with zero hesitation, you got that?” She kept her lips pursed shut, nodding her head as she stood up and you made your way towards her, placing your book down on the desk and flicking through it to find the pages you needed. 

You yelled out equipment to her, and she dashed around the room, setting up your workspace as you grabbed at the different chemicals, your hands shaking with your nerves as your heart raced in your ear, so fast you thought you may hyperventilate, and you pushed down the panic attack you could feel beginning to rear its head.

The door hissed open as you were stirring chemicals and you froze as you looked at the woman who had walked in, your hand flying to your thigh as she looked between you both in shock. “Teresa, and.. (Y/N)?” Your eyes narrowed as she said your name, and she was almost taken aback by seeing your presence. “What are you doing here? You need to leave!”

The war around you continued to rage on, the lights in the room flickering as the screaming and fighting outside never ceased, the situation only growing more dangerous every second you were here, and you flashed her the dirtiest look you could muster, a growl on your lips as you did. “Not without my goddamn cure!”

“Cure? Wh- No, the city is falling apart! It’s too late for that!”

“No!” You snapped your gaze to her, leaving the work you were doing alone and she flinched at the volume of your voice, you were seething, and you were sure she could see the fire in your eyes as you glared at her. “It’s not! Look, just look!” You dripped some of the blue mixture you had made onto the slide carefully, placing it under the microscope as the tentatively made her way across the room, cautious of your borderline hysterical state. 

Looking around the room, you caught sight of the cabinet you were looking for, and you had given up bothering with scanners and keys, instead, you used your elbow to smash the glass on the door, cold air and mist seeping out into the room from the chilled cabinet as you scanned your fingers over the vials, only to curse when they weren’t sorted by name, but by code.

“What serial code was Thomas?” You waited a few seconds as you looked at the samples, before spinning on your heel as you looked at the two confused women behind you, Ava Paige with her fingers brushing against the pages of your book, her jaw dropped. “Serial code! Which damn serial code was Thomas?”

She snapped out of it, fumbling over her words as she tried to string them together; “H-He was.. was.. A-Two! Thomas is subject A-Two!”

“He was A-Two.” You muttered to her, quickly plucking his blood sample from where it was stored as you made your way across the room. She glanced down at your slide, brows raised at the liquid sitting on it.

“What is that?”

“The Flare virus.” She stepped back suddenly, eyes wide and you smirked slightly, taking seat before it uncaringly, knowing you were immune. You lifted the vial carefully, using a needle to extract some of the blood from Thomas’ sample and drip it gently onto the slide, before peering through the lens and adjusting it, a loud and happy cry leaving your lips in shock that it had worked. “Holy shit!”

You backed away, your hand flying up to cover your mouth suddenly and Teresa moved forward, peering through the lens to look, a gasp leaving her own lips as she checked, checking again before pulling back to look at you. “It’s not just slowing down the virus, it’s destroying it.” The woman who was the source of all your torture stepped forwards, curiously looking into the microscope as she took in the sight before her, and you shot back up, searching the shelf, snatching a few others before you searched for clean slides. “What are you doing?”

“Seeing who else has the genes. Who else is the cure, not just an immune.” You began mixing at the vials, turning to look at her carefully. “We need Thomas back here, we need more blood if we’re going to save Newt.” She paused, before nodding her head carefully, taking off with Doctor Paige as the two ran to find him and you only hoped you could trust her to come back.

Alone, you began to work on all of the vials. You would test and note who else was immune, as you began mixing for a cure quickly. You were stopped, however, when the door hissed open, and Jansen stood before you, a wicked grin on his lips and your hand flew to your thigh, but the barrel was pointed on you before you could and you dropped the vial in your hands, blood spilling across the floor and ruining the cure-sample as you stood, hands raised in the air.

He advanced into the room, tutting quietly as he looked around, mumbling insults about how you should never have returned. Upon his instructions, you were backed into the wall, pressed to it as you held your hands above your head, and before you knew it, the base of his gun was colliding with the front of your skull, the world around you going back as you dropped from consciousness.

Newt slumped against the wall, his body weight becoming too much for them all to run with and Thomas panicked as the had to stop, leaning him down gently. The second he was on the floor, he keeled over, coughing up thick mouthfuls of black blood onto the floor beside him, the residue dribbling down along his skin as he was too weak to even wipe it away. 

Thomas had no idea what to say to his friend, his eyes finding Minho’s and clearly the other runner had no idea either, because the look on his face was certainly reflected in his own, Thomas was sure of it, utter hopelessness seeping in. Light suddenly seemed to find them as Thomas looked up at the humming sound he recognised overhead, and like a lightbulb going off, Brenda’s words made sense as he watched the Berg they had used barely two weeks ago in an attempt to save Minho showed up again, cruising slowly over the skies towards the tunnels they had designated as their meeting point.

The second he tried to pull the infected blond to his feet, the wheezing and rasping in his lungs only picked up, increasing tenfold as he could barely catch a breath, coughing up more of the black substance as it filled his lungs and his body slumped down even further.

“Minho, you gotta run ahead and grab the serum, get back to us as soon as you can.” Minho looked at Thomas lie he was insane, but from the reaction to simply trying to stand up, Newt was definitely not going to be able to make it himself.

“He’s right! I can cover.” Before he could leave fully, Newt grasped onto his arm, meaningful thank you’s falling from his lips to his friend and Thomas’ heart broke as he heard the emotion in them, knowing he wasn’t just referring to the serum, but to their entire friendship altogether. 

He watched the two go, monitoring them to make sure they made it through, and the second he looked back down, fear spiked in his system as he looked at his friend’s head, lolled to the side as he rasped for breath. “Newt! Hey, Newt!” Grabbing the edges of the boy’s jacket, Thomas shook him roughly. If they were going to make it, they needed to meet Minho half-way, because Newt was quickly running out of time, the virus catching up to him quicker than expected. “We’re gonna try this, okay? We gotta move, now. Let’s get you up, come on! Let’s go, come on.”

“No Thomas..” He seemed to become coherent again, all his strength going into tugging at the string sitting around his neck as Thomas tried to scoop him up, and Newt wriggled in his grasp, holding it out to him. “Take it!”

He held the bundle out to him, and Thomas shook his head, “Later! Really got to go, right now! Come on!” This only caused Newt to struggle more, pushing against him as he pushed the necklace in his direction once again.

“Take it!” He had never heard Newt scream in such a way, and Thomas stilled, nodding his head and wrapping his hand around the charm on the end of the string, the metal cylinder sitting in his closed fist. “Please. Please Tommy, please.”

“Alright.” He shoved it into his pocket securely, watching as the life seemed to drain from his friend even more. It was like everything in Newt had given up, and Thomas realised if he was doing this, he was doing it alone now. “I need you to give me everything you got you hear me? One, two, three!” On the final number, he hauled the boy to his feet, receiving very little assistance and he grunted as he lifted him up, Newt’s arm settling over his shoulder as he grasped at Thomas weakly for support, his feet dragging in what could barely be classed as steps and the two stumbled their way out into the crossfire, following the trail Minho and Gally had just taken moments ago.

They had stumbled across the road, dodging bullets and explosions as Thomas tried to take the fastest route, no longer taking the roads, just weaving through broken buildings to get there as fast as possible, and the fight was soon fading away behind them. 

The tunnels were in sight, he could see the Berg sitting across the building and it was only a few more streets to go, but as Newt’s legs finally gave out, his toes caught on the edge of the concrete, dragging him backwards as the pair tumbled to the floor. Sprawling out, Newt jerked violently, his eyes fading out as he lost focus, staring over Thomas’ shoulder and into the sky as he gurgled and coughed on his own blood the substance spattering out with each breath.

Gripping at his side, Thomas tried to pull his jacket out from under him where it had gotten trapped under the boy’s body, grabbing handfuls of the material to pull him back to his feet and a sharp sensation stabbed at his hand, and he was quick to recoil in shock. He couldn't see anything, but as Newt twitched and jerked, Thomas felt around on the inner pocket, finding the weapon that had injured him as he pulled out the exposed and empty needle.

His eyebrows were furrowed for a second, before realisation flooded him and he plunged his hand back into the storage flap, feeling around before his fingers found the little container he was looking for. Pulling it out, he lifted it to his eyes, the clear liquid you had given Newt being revealed and he dropped his head in relief, a tired grin on his lips as he looked at his almost unconscious friend.

Lifting it with shaky hands, he turned towards the flickering lights of the streetlamps around him, leaving Newt unattended for only a moment, as he tipped the liquid gently into the needle, watching what he was doing. “Thomas?” 

His head snapped up as Teresa’s voice rang out over the com-system, his eyebrows furrowing as she called out to him, and he momentarily forgot about the serum he held in his confusion. 

“Can you hear me?” She paused again as he spoke, his head whipping around as if he would find any answers, anywhere. “I need you to listen to me. I know you have no reason to trust me, but you can trust (Y/N), and the work she did. I need you to come back.” He reeled at the sound of your name on her lips, his head spinning. “You can save Newt, there’s still time for him!” He glanced back at his friend, laying unconscious on the floor where he had been dropped, and his thoughts were racing, head too busy to be able to do anything as he tried to think straight. “There’s a reason Brenda isn’t sick anymore, it’s your blood! You cured her! She doesn’t have to be the only one, all you have to do is come back, and this will all finally be over. Just come back to us, I know you’ll do the right-”

She was suddenly cut off, and Thomas’ stomach twisted at the word us, his brows furrowing and he shook it off, trying to think about his options, trying to decide what needed to be done. When he turned around, Newt was stood back to his feet, head tipped to the side as his body twitched and spasmed, no recognition showing on his face as he stared at Thomas. “Newt?” 

The boy growled, lunging for him and Thomas dropped the needle in his hand, pushing his friend to the floor in shock as the boy tried to attack him. “Newt! It’s me, it’s me!” He reached down to find the needle, before Newt’s arms wrapped around his middle, tackling him to the ground and the two rolled across the floor as Newt scratched and bit, trying to tear at Thomas, and he barely kicked the half-crank off him 

Rolling onto his knees the boy gasped for breath, holding himself up shakily before looking at Thomas. “Tommy, kill me!” As fast as the recognition had come about, it had gone, the infection taking over his mind once again and he snarled, rasping and growling as he threw himself against Thomas again, taking him to the floor. Newt’s hands wrapped around his throat, choking him as his body was straddled and he fought to try and push the blond boy off from on top of him, oxygen no longer making it into his lungs and he reached out to his side, searching, but the needle was too far away, laying idly on the concrete. Again, his friend peeked back through the haze, his eyes widening as his hands left Thomas’ neck “I’m sorry, Tommy!”

“It’s okay..” He took ragged breaths, panicking as Newt’s hand fell to his thigh, lifting the gun from its holster and pressing it to his temple. Swinging his hand forward, Thomas screamed as he knocked the weapon from his friend’s hand, and he pushed the boy off of him, crawling rapidly towards the needle lying on the floor and grasping it between his fingers, lifting it up triumphantly. “Just let me give yo-”

A laboured scream cut him off and Newt was lost to them once again, but he now had a knife clutched in his hands as the crank version of his friend stared him down menacingly. Swinging the blade at him, it sliced through the air as the boy advanced on him and Thomas backed away desperately. There was no rhythm or flow to his swings, he was just chopping madly at the air as he ran forward, gaining on Thomas quickly. With a deep breath, Thomas stopped backing away, raising the hand with the needle as Newt aimed the blade towards him once again. Plunging the needle into his neck, he pushed the serum into his skin, feeling the boy go limp in his grasp and relief flooded his body. 

The feeling was quickly pushed away when a hot and sticky substance began to leak out against his fingers, no pain following it and Thomas knew it wasn’t his own blood. Pulling back in fear, he found the blade buried deep in Newt’s own flesh, fondness once again showing in his eyes as he looked up to meet his friend’s glance and Thomas panicked as the boy collapsed to the floor.

Cupping his head softly, Thomas laid him down, tears filling his eyes as he looked at his friend, blood dripping along his shoulder and beginning to pool on the concrete below, and Thomas assessed the severity of the wound, his hands holding down around the knife to put pressure on it as he mumbled to his friend to hold on.

He held the boy with fondness as he watched his consciousness begin to drip away from his eyes, before his head snapped up at the sound of footsteps approaching, Minho and Brenda slowing to a rapid halt as they took in the scene before them, Thomas on his knees sniffling as he held a bloodied Newt, and his mouth dropped open to speak.

“I-It’s okay! It's his shoulder! Just get him t-to the ship, put the serum in him! H-He’ll be okay!” His words were shaky as he spoke, and Minho approached carefully, hiking his unconscious friend up into his arms as the boy’s chest rose and fell slowly and weakly, but the breaths were still being sucked into his lungs, and the veins on his neck were already beginning to recede.

Looking around, Brenda offered a hand to a weak Thomas to pull him from his knees, and he followed her gaze as she looked out at the empty space. “Where’s (Y/N)?”

“..With you?” Thomas questioned, the plan having been that the two of them would go together, get a bus, get the kids, get safely outside the wall. He felt bile rise in his throat as he watched Brenda shake her head, his heart skipping a beat as her worried eyes found his. 

“No, she left the bus. She came back. She said she had to save Newt a-”

“She what?”

Thomas’ body physically wretched with dry-heaves as he tried to calm the pure terror swimming in his veins at knowing you weren’t safe, and suddenly, the plurals Teresa had used made sense, he knew exactly where you were, and both of them turned to look at the building in the centre of the city, the crowds already making their way toward the main base of operations to take it down.

“She went back to make a damn cure.” He shook his head, the fight or flight instinct kicking in so hard that Thomas was sure in this moment he could’ve wrestled a griever and won, the spikes of adrenaline in his system powered by his crushing fear were overwhelming. “I have to go and get her!”

“You’ll never make it back in time!” He turned to look at Minho, who shook his head aggressively at Thomas’ actions in order tot alk him down form the path he was about to take. 

“I have to try! I-”

“She wouldn’t want you to risk your shucking life! There’s a reason she didn’t tell you she was doing this! She’d want you to live!” Minho insisted, and Thomas bit his lip, bouncing on the balls of his feet at the newfound energy drowning everything else out.

“I don’t want to live without her! Not again!” His friend opened his mouth to speak, but Thomas wasn’t having any of it, and both Brenda and Minho knew it. There was nothing for him if there wasn’t you. “Get back, take Newt. I’ll be okay!”

Before either could protest, he was bursting out in a sprint, heading back toward you as his eyes fixed on the upper levels, knowing exactly where he would find you now.

When you finally came to, your head was throbbing, and you could feel the cool air in the room and the breeze that was carrying through smashed windows catching on the exposed wound on the back of your head, sticky blood still dripping along your neck. Your vision was blurry, the lights above you making it hard to open your eyes but when you finally did, you realised you were still inside the WCKD labs, staring up at the ceiling. 

It took a second, before suddenly, the recollections of what had happened came crashing back down on you and you tried to sit up, your arms and legs bound to the surgical chair you were in as pure fear flooded your system. Whipping your head to the side, you caught sight of Thomas, his worried eyes on you in the same position as you were, fists clenched as Teresa drew blood from his arm slowly. 

Your eyes narrowed on her as you looked up to her, and her sights were already set on you, eyes wide as she ducked her head to cover herself slightly, nodding further into the corner. Tipping your head back, you strained against the seat, a hiss falling from you as the cut on your skull throbbed, but then you remembered what had happened; Jansen. 

Teresa had gone to call out for Thomas with Ava Paige, and then Jansen had found you.

Looking around for the other woman, you found her nowhere to be seen, your brows furrowing and you let your gaze roam back to Thomas’, his eyes looking over your face carefully. Jansen was watching out of the window, and even from your restrained position, you could see the orange glows of the fires that had taken over, the darkness the smoke was causing in the sky, and you could hear the tremendous crashing of buildings crumbling and falling to rubble on the ground, as they always should have been.

“Do you know what this place is?” His voice was eerily calm, more at ease than you had ever heard Jansen speak before, and you tipped your head to look at him, watching as he finally turned to face you both, directing his attention from the scene outside to instead assess Teresa’s work with the two of you. “It’s a lifeboat. The whole world might be sinking, but that doesn’t mean we have to go down with it.”

You struggled in your restraints, your arms thrashing as you tried to sit up, and the man merely chuckled at your futile attempts, making his way between the chairs to lean over you. He raised a hand, smirking as you flinched, before he gently brought his fingers up to brush some hair away from your face, and Thomas thrashed in his own seat the second Jansen had touched you, shouting threats behind him, to which the man simply ignored. 

“How much longer?” He waited for Teresa’s answer, the girl mumbling as steadily as possible that it wouldn’t be much longer, and with his back turned to her, he missed watching her slowly packing your back with equipment, your eyes focusing on it as she tucked needles and syringes into your pack and hid them. “It’s some good work you did there, (Y/N). You were so close to a cure before, that little notebook you had always had on you, who knew the secrets to saving the world would be in there. You were days away, perhaps even less had you just shared your work, and instead, you let your emotions get in the way. You had yourself sent up into the trials instead.” 

You scoffed at his words, trying to lean away from his touch on your face and he tutted, shaking his head, before slipping his hand to your head, pressing down on the cut from the gun he had hit you with as you cried out, sharp pains shooting through you from the injured patch on your scalp. “Get your fucking hands away from her!” Thomas screamed, thrashing in the surgical bed beside you and his hands retracted, your whimpers sounding lowly as the stinging began to subside. 

“Why don’t you just kill us?” You mumbled, and he grinned, turning to walk away from you as he headed over to check on Teresa’s progress. 

“Kill you? No, no, we couldn't do that.” He seemed to stop, contemplating his words as his head tipped to the side. “Well, we can now we have your notes. You are going to die, but Thomas here, we have to take special care of him.” Jansen promised, and you fell still in your bed, your eyes darting over to your notebook. “You are just here to break his will. Once he’s watched you die before his eyes, he’ll have nothing left to fight for, and I will have a living, breathing, cure.”

“So, do it, you fucking coward! You’ll never be able to read those notes! You’ll never understand them!” He grinned at your bravery, unholstering the handgun sitting on his hip and nodding in agreement with your words.

“You’re right, I was never much one for science, I’ve always had stronger passions, made the hard choices, not the difficult theories, but Teresa here, she understands them perfectly.” He hummed, and your eyes flicked to look at the girl behind him, in her hands, a dark blue swilling in the needle as the injected it into tubes for safety, and your eyes found hers, a subtle nod being cast in your direction as she placed them down silently. 

Your eyes moved to the side, Thomas shaking his head rapidly as his he looked at you, fighting and tugging on the restraints, his skin red and raw as he tried to wiggle out of their tight hold, tears lining his eyes and spilling down his cheeks as he looked at you. Giving him a soft smile, you nodded, swallowing thickly as the barrel of the gun pressed to your temple. “Don’t let them break you, Tommy.”

“He’s already broken.” Jansen scoffed his thumb flicking the safety off as he curled his finger around the trigger, and your eyes closed tightly, your breath held and Thomas’ pleading and shouting fell silent, everything drowning away as the sound of your own steady heart rate filled your eyes, relaxing you and easing your mind to go.

The sound of shattering glass filled your ears, a grunt, followed by a thud and your eyes snapped open, finding Jansen laying on the floor as Teresa held the bottom of a large glass container, dropping it to the floor as she dived forward, fingers shaking as she tried to undo the straps on your hand and you took deep breaths, your head practically spinning as nothing but complete relief flooded your system, the joy making you feel high as you collapsed back into the chair, bringing your wrists up to rub at the raw skin as soon as they were free. 

She had barely freed one of your feet, when you looked back up at her, your eyes opening in a scream as Jansen rose from the ground and Thomas shouted out to warn her, but before she could move, the man had a fistful of her hair and a hand on her shoulder, pulling her back and throwing her into the table she’d been operating at. Her body flew right over it as she knocked everything with her, glass shattering as liquid spilt out across the floor, your notebook sliding towards the window as it left the table and you shot up, struggling to free your other foot. 

He followed her, a tube ready to use for the injection in his hand and she crawled under tables, trying to escape, and Thomas called out her name frantically, trying to tear himself from the chair as you stood over him. You pulled at the leather locked around his wrists, freeing one of his hands and he immediately moved to free his other as you worked on free the straps around his feet.

The second he was no longer bound, he was rolling from the chair, leaving your side as he dashed to help her, and Jansen held onto her head tightly, slamming it down against the edge of a metal table and her body fell limp. Pushing one of the cartridges of blue liquid into the device, he rolled up his sleeve, exposing his own Flare covered arm, but before he could administer the injection, Thomas’ arms wrapped around his waist, tackling the man straight through one of the glass walls. You were stopped for a second, the complete catastrophe of what had happened in the last few hours just beginning to hit you. The two were fighting, and you snapped away from the scene outside, glancing between your bag on the other side of the room and Teresa laying unconscious on the other, a curse falling from your lips as you dashed towards her and dropped to your knees. 

Casting a glance out into the corridor, you watched the two men fight, punches being thrown and grunts sounding out as the swung at one another and you held the girls face gently, tapping her cheeks as you mumbled her name, eventually just resorting to shaking her roughly. She stirred in your arms and you cried out in relief, turning to watch as Thomas landed blow after blow on the man attacking you, before his fist was blocked, worry replacing how proud you felt and you turned away as you watched Thomas be thrown to the floor, your hands grabbing onto Teresa’s as you helped her get to her feet shakily. 

When the two of you stumbled to the doorway, your eyes widened, a scream falling from your lips as the same gun that had been aimed at you was now aimed at Thomas pointed directly at him and you shook, Teresa now being the one to hold you upright as you desperately tried to find a way out of this, to figure something out, to be able to save the man you loved. 

Before you could process it, the corridor lit up so brightly you could barely see and a second later, the building shook, metal support beams and walls crumbling at the impact as your body launched forwards, the glass along the entire side of the building shattering, but it gave you enough time for a distraction as Jansen hit the floor, the gun sliding away from him. 

It soon sounded again, more chunks of building falling and Thomas dashed over to you, his hands finding your face as he cupped your cheeks, his hands trembling so violently in fear he could barely hold on and his body was sagging. “Let’s go, come one, let’s go!”

He began to drag you away, Teresa swiping the device Jansen had been planning to use to inject himself from the floor and you hesitated, the villain groaning as he pushed himself out from under the rubble. “Wait! I have to get the bag! Go!” Thomas looked like he was ready to argue and you pushed him away from you, nodding your head as your eyes stayed locked with his. “I’ll be there, just go!”

With a moment's pause, he left, bolting away from you with Teresa as Jansen began to free himself and you ducked back into the room quietly, the building wobbling as fire took over the lab, plumes of smoke filling the air, dust causing you to cough loudly. Gunshots sounded behind you, the shadow of the man chasing your friends retreating down the corridor and you waved a hand in front of your face, you pushed around in broken furniture and equipment, before spotting the strap of your bag, layered with dust but it was there. 

Lifting up the table that had fallen over it, you smiled victoriously, searching about on the floor until your fingers brushed the worn leather of your notebook, the keys to the cure sealed safely inside and you pushed it into the heavy pack, sealing it tightly and securing it on your back. As you made to stand, more missiles and bombs hit against the side of the building and it jerked violently, beginning to tip heavily to one side and the room around you began to collapse in on itself, the corridor falling in as debris, concrete and rubble blocked off any chance you had of leaving.

Your eyes narrowed and you stared at it, a loud scream falling from your lips in anger. Your throat was raw as you let out the sound, your own ears aching as you cursed and screamed. “No! No fucking way!” You stood up, fists clenched so tightly by your sides that you were sure your nails would draw blood from your palms and you stared at the blocked exit, the room sealed around you as it began to crumble. “I have not come this fucking far! I will not die at a goddamn WCKD facility!”

You heaved in ragged breaths searching the room. There was no way you were going to be able to move all the chunks of concrete and metal blocking the doors. Looking above yourself, you found no access to vents, the support beams giving way in the roof anyway, and you were left with the open window. As you peered out, you found nothing but concrete below, the flames of the lower floors twisting up and roaring in the air, the heat reaching you simply from looking down and you took a moment to calm yourself.

You watched the Berg in the distance, seeing its rotors slowly begin to move as it prepared to lift itself off the ground and you dropped your head with a smile, cheering to yourself among the burning building. “Okay, guess we’re going up.” Peering out, you plotted your route carefully. You were close to the top of the building, and it was only five floors. You could do this. 

Your hand shot out, grabbing onto rolls of bandages as you wrapped up your hands as much as possible, covering your palms and your knuckles, tightening the laces on your boots and tucking them in as you prepared yourself, shaking your body down and hoping it would help dissipate the fear filling every inch of you. Leaning out of the tilted building, you grasped onto a chunk of loose rock, tugging on it to check it was still secure before holding onto it tightly. 

Your foot followed, finding a gap in the framework and with a deep breath, you swung your body out from the relative safety of the floor you had been stood on, your free hand reaching out to grab onto the rock, fingers digging into cracks as your toes did the same, and you huffed out an unbelieving laugh as you successfully clung to the side of the building. 

Lifting one hand, as far as it could reach, you grasped onto a metal support beam, testing its stability before raising a foot, pushing off as you climbed higher. You had soon set a rhythm, your eyes searching for things to grab onto and stand on, and before you knew it, the room you had left was now pouring with fire, two floors behind as the edge of the roof only got closer and closer to you. 

Your head was throbbing, the cut at your hairline was spewing blood from your exertion, and you could feel the trail of it trickling own your temple and along your cheek, blood dripping from your jaw but you couldn’t waste time focusing on it now. Ash, dust and crumbled building covered your sweaty skin, sticking to you, and as it burned, it made it easier to climb, your dirtied skin making your grip dry and strong, and you panted, looking up at the distance you still had to go.

“This is the last time I climb a broken building for the rest of my life, I swear to shuck.” You whispered, taking a laboured breath and groaning as you pushed yourself further up. “Damn tunnels and damn skyscrapers, never again will I go near either. I refuse it.” You huffed, your own audible complaining being the only thing keeping you going.

Three floors up, and you found a hole in the side of the building, dragging yourself into it carefully as your exhausted body lay out on the concrete, your legs still hanging over the ledge as you secure yourself on the floor for a few seconds breather. You could hear the Berg now, getting closer and closer to you, only minutes away and you heaved yourself up into a sitting position, a cry on your lips as your muscles screamed out in agony. 

Looking around yourself, you identified the broken and partially collapsed stairs before you. The sign reading ‘roof access’ was barely hanging onto the wall and you looked between the outside of the building you had been climbing and the broken stairs. Both were dangerous, and both would probably result in your death, but as you looked down at your hands, you made your decision. 

Your nails were ripped and torn short, the tips of your fingers burned, scraped and bleeding from all the hot debris and jagged rock you had needed to cling to in order to climb, you made your decision. Using the metal railing to pull yourself to your feet, your body leaned heavily against the quickly warming metal for support as you inched your way up the stairs. 

You had narrowly avoided holes and gaps, the rock simply crumbling beneath your feet in patches as your foot pushed straight through and you had to catch yourself from dropping, but soon, you were finding the door that read ‘roof’, already gaping and flapping in the wind as you pulled it open. 

Tears lined your eyes as you coughed, the smoke thicker up here, as the fire reached where you were, and you waved a hand in front of your face, stepping out onto the shaky metal platforms as you stumbled forwards. By the time you could see straight, you made out the forms on the floor, Thomas sprawled out on the ground as Teresa sat behind him, supporting him as much as he could and his hand was gripped to his stomach, blood pumping between his fingers violently each time he coughed and spluttered.

You moved forward, stumbling as quickly as you could before dropping to your knees before the boy on the floor, the hot tears in your eyes beginning spill down your cheeks as you sobbed on a sore throat. His free hand rose, wiping the blood away from your cheeks carefully as your tears mixed with the dirt smeared across your skin. “I told you to drop your hero-complex, look at you.” He wheezed, his hand settled over your cheek delicately as his thumb stroked at your face, his eyes locked with yours as he stared at you, like you were the only thing in the world that mattered. 

You let out a choked laugh at his words, more tears spilling down your cheeks as you brushed hair away from his forehead carefully, your hands resting over his on his stomach and his blood spilled out and covered your own fingers, as his separated slightly, yours sliding between them as together the two of you held pressure on his wound with your linked hands. “What? And let you have all the fun?”

He shook his head with a smile, his eyes closing gently as he clung onto you, and you looked up to Teresa, trying to blink away your tears as she cried desperately herself. “I-I’m sorry, I tried!” She whimpered, her shaky hand holding out the last vial of the cure and you took it, wiping as your eyes and tucking the blue vial into the pocket of your bag, because it didn’t matter now. 

“I know, T.” You took a hand away from Thomas’ face to hold hers, squeezing it reassuringly before letting it return to Thomas’ face, holding him in a soft grip. “I forgive you.” As soon as you said those words, she seemed to break, a loud cry leaving her as she leaned over and you looked down at Thomas, a small smile on his face as he watched you.

“I need to tell you something.” You shook your head, biting on your lip as you pressed a tender kiss to his forehead and he whined, insisting you listen to him. “I have to say it now, so you can remember hearing it at least once!” He groaned, and a fresh set of tears began to find a place along your eyes as they glazed over and you willed them back as you looked at him. “You need to know! You need to know just how much I care, how much I truly, irrevocably, lov-”

He was cut off as a wind swept over you all, violent coughs leaving you and you looked up to the source, the Berg skimming up the side of the building just in time, lights shining into your eyes brightly and you covered them, the machine spinning around to face away from you and the back dropped open as it swayed, trying to hold itself steady next to the building. 

With a happy cry, you looked down at him, both of your hands coming to cup his cheeks as you looked at him intently, neither of you caring about the blood smearing across his skin as you stared at one another. 

“You’re not telling me here. Okay?” He nodded weakly as he looked at you. “You’re going to get up, and you’re going to fight, you hear me? One last time, and then you can tell me when we’re safe, and happy.”

“When we’re safe and happy.” He confirmed, his words wheezed as both you and Teresa reached under his arms, pulling him to his feet as he cried out in pain, but you ignored it, dragging him towards the ledge. The gap was too far, and no matter how many times Teresa shouted at them to get closer, you knew they couldn't, the building was teetering dangerously as it began to give way under its own weight, not to mention the flames that were rising higher and higher around the edge of the building, and you knew you’d have to throw him. 

Putting all his weight on Teresa, you took off your bag, placing the straps around his dropped head to hand from his neck as you lopped your fingers into his belt, motioning for Teresa to do the same. The building beside you collapsed, the entire front side of it falling away as a loud explosion sounded and your eyes widened. The metal on the opposite side began to buckle under the weight of the top chunk, and in only a few seconds, it would be falling towards you, and it would take out the rest of the platform you stood on with it. 

There was only once chance to save Thomas’ life, and you knew you had to take it, now.

You nodded to her, counting down carefully before you both put all your effort into it, your muscles aching under his weight but he flew forwards, just enough across the gap for his torso to land roughly on the lowered platform and immediately Vince was able to pull him inside. The second they had him inside, they were reaching out again to the two of you, but the deafening and crashing sounds of the building beside finally giving out were ringing out and all of your attention snapped towards it as it fell. 

It hit the roof of the building you were on, jolting it to aggressively that you stumbled in place, but your eyes turned to Thomas, the building trembling beneath your feet and his eyes were wide as you gave him a small smile, nodding to him. “(Y/N)! Teresa!” His voice was laboured and you shook your head with a smile, choking back the tears you wanted to release as you raised a hand, gripping at the charm that hung around your neck. 

“Happy and safe, Tommy.” You whispered, and he shook his head, his hand stretching out to you as the building fell away, and with it, the platform you were beginning to crumble beneath your feet as it’s support was lost. The ground beneath your feet slipped away, your body falling as your eyes stayed locked on Thomas’, a scream leaving his lips as you began to fall away from him. 

Your shoulder jolted, the skin of your wrist stinging as nails scraped at your skin, your body swinging in the air and Minho peered down at you, shaking his head from where he hung from the aircraft, his hands wrapped tightly around a rope, a grimace on his lips as Gally held the other end, pulling it taut as he supported both you and Minho hanging from the craft. Looking down, you watched as Teresa’s body fell away into the smoke, the floors collapsing around her as debris and shrapnel flew up, sarks and flames filling the air. 

You were limp in his grasp, your body being slowly pulled back up towards the edge as Gally and Vince pulled Minho inside, all three men tugging you into the craft as the ramp finally slid shit and Minho swept you up into his arms, holding onto you tightly. “I’m not losing any more friends to WCKD.” He whispered, mumbled by your hair and your legs gave way beneath you as you collapsed, and he slowly sunk the two of you down to your knees. 

The second you were released, you struggled for air, the panic attack you had been pushing off had finally had its chance to shine and you clawed at your throat, Tears falling down your face and the only sound was that of your shaking sobs and the humming of the engine. Brenda placed a hand on your back, pulling your hair out of your face as you fell forward, your hands holding you up as your body wracked with dry heaves. Your heart was pounding, and Vince fell to the floor before you, his hands finding your shoulders as he rolled you to the side, sitting carefully on the floor. “You’re okay, kid. You did good, you can rest now.” 

You nodded at his words, the fatigue in every inch of you was taking over, and you slumped back against the wall. “Where’s my bag?” Your voice was croaky and hoarse, and Brenda rushed to lift it from Thomas’ head, ringing it over to you carefully as you dug into the pocket, holding the vial of blue liquid between your fingers and you pressed it into her palm. “Make sure Newt gets his cure, Bren.”

Her eyes were wide and teary as she looked at you, gripping onto it tightly and you gave her the strongest smile your tired body would allow. You could feel everything in your body beginning to shut down from the stress and exhaustion, and you rolled to the side, Thomas’ head lolled towards you, eyes closed as Minho and Gally worked on patching up his bullet wound, fresh bandages being pressed to it and you reached over, your fingers lacing through his limply.

With a final nod at your friend, you let your eyes slide closed, calmness and serenity taking over your body as you slipped away into the peaceful darkness, smiling as you drifted off, safe and happy, among your friends.

[scarlet-bernard]

Some Writing Prompts I found!

001: "You're really soft."

002: "You smell nice."

003: "I'm here for my daily fix of hugs and kisses."

004: "Is it possible to love too much?"

005: "I don't wanna get up-- you're comfy."

006: "I will always be there protect you."

007: "I'm cold. Come closer."

008: "I love you a lot, but please stop trying to cook me dinner, you suck.”

009: "The stars look especially lovely tonight."

010: "I've never seen such gorgeous eyes before."

011: "May I have this dance?"

012: "I can't stop thinking about you."

013: "You'll never feel alone with me by your side."

014: "Let's get to know each other over dinner."

015: "All I want is you."

016: "I could never leave you, I love you too much!"

017: "A fairytale with a happy ending always brings a smile to my face."

018: "I want to hear you sing."

019: "I don't think anyone could ever be as lovely as you."

020: "You look incredible in that."

021: "He/She's quite stunning, isn't he/she?"

022: "Sometimes I just can't control myself when around you."

023: "Do you believe in love at first sight?"

024: "I think I'm in love."

025: "I’d like it if you stayed.

026: "People are jerks, but not you."

027: "I'll share the blankets with you."

028: "I have never felt this way about anyone."

029: "I want this to never end..."

030: "Can I kiss you?"

LIVING TOGETHER

031: "I waxed the floors, grab your fluffy socks."

032: "Who changed the thermostat settings? I’m freezing to death."

033: "Can we just watch a movie and fall asleep on the couch?"

034: "You can put your cold feet on me."

035: "Your stray red item turned my whites pink."

036: "A thunderstorm is rolling through town and you’re scared of lightening/thunder so I’ll protect you."

037: "There was a power outage and now we have to have dinner by candlelight."

038: "Rock Paper Scissors to see who has to go talk to the neighbors upstairs for being too loud."

039: "I just came home to you crying while watching a movie, please tell me what’s going on."

040: "Our AC is out and it’s the middle of the summer."

041: "You found me crying on the kitchen floor in the middle of the night surrounded by a shattered jelly jar."

042: "My parents are coming over in 10 minutes so please put some clothes on"

043: "We’re repainting the apartment and going to the hardware store together to pick out color swatches."

044: "IF YOU USE UP ALL THE HOT WATER ONE MORE TIME IM GOING TO BAN YOU TO THE COUCH FOR A MONTH."

045: "We’re watching Toy Story 3 and we can’t stop crying."

WEDDINGS/PROPOSALS

046: "I caught the bouquet"

047: "My ex just invited me to their wedding and I need you to be my date so it doesn’t look like I’ve spent the last few years failing to get over them."

048: "We accidentally got married in Vegas oops"

049: "I’m really drunk, please help me get safely out of the way so I don’t ruin our friend’s wedding."

050: "I planned out this super romantic proposal and you just ruined it by beating me to whole proposing thing."

051: "I wasn’t planning on asking you, but it appeared to me that life is short. Will you marry me? "

052: "If you shove cake in my face this will be the worst wedding night of your life."

053: "Do you take this man/woman to be your lawfully wedded husband/wife? "

054: "May I have this dance, wife/husband? "

055: "You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’m so happy I can finally call you my wife/husband."

056: "I jokingly told you that the only way I’d marry you was if you did this weird outlandish thing, and you actually did it, and I’m kind of charmed."

057: "This is probably a bad time, but marry me?"

MARRIED LIFE

058: "We’ve become the clingy newlyweds you always complained about. "

059: "Your ‘miracle hangover cure’ couldn’t possibly beat mine."

060: "I know you haven’t had the best experience with dogs in the past but look at its face please please can we keep it?"

061: "I wanted to surprise you for our anniversary, but everything that could go wrong, did go wrong."

062: "I beat you at Mario Kart and now you're banishing me to the couch for the night?”

063: "I surprised you with tickets to see our favorite band… WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU SURPRISED ME WITH TICKETS TO SEE THEM TOO?"

064: "I know we had a big fight but we still need to decorate the house for the holidays."

065: "Oh! Hey! Could you come and taste this to see if it's okay?"

066: "We’re arguing over book versus movie."

067: "I came home to a Nerf gun on the front porch and a note that says ‘Here is your weapon. I have one too. Loser cooks dinner. Good luck. xo’"

068: "We’ve been celebrating our wedding anniversary on the wrong day for the past nine years."

069: "You had a business trip and I missed you so much that I kind of tore up the house in your absence like a dog with separation anxiety… sorry?"

070: "We both have nowhere else to be so we get to spend our rare day off at home."

PREGNANCY

071: "I bet it’s a girl/boy."

072: "Do you think it’s possible that I…might be… pregnant? "

073: "I thought I was pregnant but the test must have been wrong. I’m not. "

074: "You’re lucky I’m pregnant!"

075: "Can you help me up, your child is pretty heavy."

076: "I could really use a foot rub right now."

077: "Your dad is really excited to meet you soon, it’s driving me crazy."

078: "Do you wanna know the sex of the baby?"

079: "The baby’s kicks are keeping me up at night."

080: "Did you feel that?"

081: "I can’t fit into my favorite dress anymore. "

082: "OH MY GOD I’M GOING INTO LABOR. WHAT DO WE DO NOW?!

083: "I can’t be pregnant… or….OH MY GOD! "

084: "I think you might be pregnant.”

085: "It’s 2 am but you’re craving cake and we’re both up anyway so let’s bake in our underwear."

PARENTING

086: "I knew it was a mistake to get the twins matching clothes."

087: "Sh…they’re asleep."

088: "I think someone had a little accident with the finger paint."

089: "Mondays are your diaper days."

090: "Our kid is totally the one who wanted to build a pillow fort, not me."

091: "Ooh…someone’s got a tummy ache."

092: "Are you sure you don’t want me to drop them off myself? I don’t think you could handle seeing them off alone."

093: "I told you we should have just gotten that German Shepherd puppy."

094: "What do you think for their punishment? Grounding? No video games? No going out for a week?"

095: "Mm…your kid before five in the morning."

096: "Come on now, I think you’re being too harsh. He/she’s just a kid. Remember all of the stupid things we used to do when we were their age?"

097: "So, how should we break the news that they’re going to have a new baby brother or sister?"

098: "I think we should have another."

099: "Why wasn’t I invited to your wedding?"

100: "Okay fine, one more story, but then you really have to go to bed."

101: "…They just grow up so fast."

[bugaboobss]

a ladynoir fic with "Please just kiss me already" from this prompt list bugaboobss(.)tumblr(.)com/post/188047623205/sentence-starters please c: congrats on 420 followers

A/N: Okay this is super super late and I’m so sorry it took so long to write this I’ve just been real busy with school but here it is and it’s way longer than I was going to make it originally so I hope you enjoy!!

Sometimes, Chat couldn’t help but think back to the first—and only—time he kissed Ladybug. 

She would be telling him their latest plan of attack for the akuma, and Chat would only be able to remember the feeling of her warm body pressed against his. He would watch her swing around the Eiffel Tower, her red ribbons flowing behind her in the breeze, and he would be thinking of how she tasted like sugar. They would fistbump after defeating yet another akuma, and Chat would look at her hand, remembering how it felt to have those fingers twist in his hair. 

Her earrings would beep and she would say goodbye, and he would remember her other goodbye, after she had pulled away from the kiss and told him it was too dangerous for them to do this. That they couldn’t be together because it could distract them. Make them falter in their duties to Paris. And that’s what came first. The safety of their city. 

He thought about that kiss more than he should’ve. He thought about Ladybug more than he should’ve. He thought about pressing a kiss to the top of her head, running his fingers through her hair, interlacing her fingers with his own, he thought about all the things he shouldn’t. And he wondered if she thought about those same things too. 

It had been almost a year and a half since that kiss. Chat knew he needed to move on, but it was next to impossible because it was her. It was impossible not to love Ladybug.

But he never acted on these thoughts. When he was younger, sure he would’ve continued to flirt with her despite her constant rejections. But this was different. It wasn’t a matter of her not feeling the same, she had been the one to kiss him on that clear summer night. But Ladybug’s responsibility was to her city, and Chat had to respect that. 

So now here they were. 

They were in the middle of another fight with an akumatized person. This akuma’s power was nastier than most. Somehow, it had the ability to create tiny, hard balls that would explode on impact. Like paintballs but with a chance of death. 

The destruction was already bad by the time they had arrived on the scene. Pieces of cars and buildings were scattered around, and Chat didn’t even want to consider how many people were injured. 

The two of them were doing their best to avoid the projectiles, but it was difficult. The akuma had good aim, and more often than not Chat found himself having to jump to push Ladybug out of the way. 

It’s odd, usually she’s so on top of her game but today she seemed… off. She kept glancing to Chat nervously, and jumped anytime he had a near miss. If he was less distracted by the fighting, he’d realize that she’d been doing this a lot lately. Keeping a closer eye on him, being more worried about him during fights. But at the moment, he was more focused on not taking an exploding ball to the face than anything else. 

“Chat! I think the akuma is in her paintball gun!” Ladybug shouted as she yoyoed away from another barrage. 

“Yeah, that would make sense!” Chat shouted back. The akuma turned her gun on him, and he barely had time to vault away before an explosion rang out under his staff. 

They both landed a little bit away from the akuma, and Ladybug wasted no time. 

“Lucky charm!” She called out. There was a flash of pink, and Chat watched a small, red and black piece of cork fall into Ladybug’s hands. 

“A wine cork?” Chat questioned, frowning at the object. “Does it really just want us to plug up her gun?” 

“Look out!” Ladybug shouted. Chat barely had time to jump out of the way before another round of paintballs came firing at them. 

Ladybug and Chat shared a nervous look. They both knew it was going to be tough to get that close to the akuma without getting their heads blown off. So it was obvious what Chat was going to do. 

“HEY OVER HERE!” Chat yelled, waving his arms in the air and running close to the akuma. The woman whipped her head towards him, and he laughed as began ducking and jumping to avoid the paintballs going his way. Behind him, he heard Ladybug yell something about him being irresponsible, but he couldn’t hear her over the explosions burning the soles of his shoes. 

The cobblestone streets were blown to pieces. Chat had to watch where he was going to make sure he didn’t trip on a giant piece of rock, so essentially there was a lot of multitasking going on. 

From the corner of his eye, Chat could see Ladybug make her way to the akuma. To keep her attention, Chat kept jumping closer, like he was going to make a grab for her gun, before bouncing away again. The akuma growled at her inability to hit him, and he could tell she was getting pissed off. 

After backflipping away from another explosion, Chat heard a yell as Ladybug swung from a lamppost directly towards the akuma’s back. The akuma whipped around and pointed her gun at Ladybug, and Ladybug had to pull up from her swing to avoid the paintballs. 

Chat could only watch as the akuma turned the gun to the lamppost Ladybug’s yoyo was wrapped around, and within a half a second the metal pole was crumbling to the ground. 

Ladybug yelped as the lamppost collapsed, and Chat rushed over to her. She fell onto the ground in a heap, and Chat’s eyes widened when he saw the akuma point the gun right at Ladybug. 

It was instinct at this point. Throwing himself in front of Ladybug to protect her had become so ingrained in him, it was his natural response anytime she was in danger. He was her shield. That was his job. And so as muscle memory kicked in, Chat didn’t even worry about how much this was going to hurt as several paintballs slammed into his chest. 

The noise was deafening. Chat tumbled backwards and distantly he heard Ladybug scream. After a second of rolling, Chat came to a stop, and he landed against the wall of a building. 

It took a moment for the pain to kick in, but when it did he had to bite his tongue to keep from yelling. His entire body felt heavy, with his limbs feeling like they were made of lead as something heavy sat on his chest. With blurry vision he looked down at his chest, sighing in relief when he didn’t see any blood or gore. His suit protected him from a lot of damage, so while the shockwave of the explosion got past his suit, the flame from the explosion itself did not. 

But it still hurt like hell. 

Through half-lidded eyes, Chat watched as Ladybug ran towards him. He wanted to open his mouth to greet her, but he didn’t have the energy to make words. Everything was ringing, and all he wanted to do was take a nap. 

“Chat! Chat are you okay?” Ladybug asked, kneeling down next to him. 

Even though it felt like pushing a boulder, Chat managed to lift his arm enough to give her a thumbs up. 

“I-I’m okay,” he choked out. 

Ladybug covered her mouth with her hand, and it sounded like she was… stifling a sob? Meeting her eyes, it was then Chat realized tears were streaming down her cheeks. 

“M’lady, I’m okay, really,” he whispered. He wasn’t going to die or anything, he knew that. Yeah, this hurt, but he was going to be fine when Ladybug performed her Miraculous Cure. 

He wanted to reach out and wipe away her tears, but he couldn’t lift his arm a second time. 

Then, his eyes focused behind Ladybug’s head, and he could see the akuma reloading her gun for another shot. 

“Ladybug, you have to finish her off,” he told her, his voice so hoarse it made Ladybug wince. 

Glancing behind her, Ladybug sniffled and wiped her cheeks with her hands. “Okay, you’re right.” Turning back to Chat, she hesitated before pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll be right back.” 

The fight didn’t last long after that. Ladybug ran back over there, and Chat watched as she punched the woman in the face and slammed the cork into the barrel of the gun. Then, she grabbed the gun from her hands and broke it in half over her leg, revealing the dark butterfly. 

Ladybug didn’t smile as she caught the akuma in her yoyo. She didn’t say her usual ‘bye bye little butterfly’ either. When the swarm of magical ladybugs eventually swept over Chat, he felt warm as the pain faded away. The heaviness in his limbs lifted, and he could breathe normally again. And now that the pain was gone, he was finally able to process the fact that Ladybug kissed him on the cheek. 

As soon as the ladybugs disappeared, Chat was on his feet and running to where Ladybug was still standing in the center of the street. When she turned and met his eyes, she didn’t reach out for a fist bump like they always did. Instead, she reached out her arms and wrapped them around his back, pulling him close and burying her face in his (now healed) chest. 

“You scared me so badly, Kitty,” she whispered. “Can you get us out of here?” 

Chat wanted to ask why she was so upset, but he knew reporters were going to be swarming them soon and they didn’t have time to wait around. So he just made a noise of affirmation and wrapped one arm around her waist, before using his staff to vault them onto a nearby roof. 

Ladybug clung to him as he ran to get them to a more private roof. She kept her eyes closed, and didn’t look up until he had slowed to a complete stop. Then, he let go and stepped back, and Ladybug wrapped her arms around herself. 

“M’lady, what’s wrong?” Chat asked softly, heart aching as he noticed more tears on her cheeks. 

“I’m sorry, I’ve just-” Ladybug hiccuped and looked to the ground. “I just haven’t been sleeping well so I’m a little out of it.” 

Chat frowned. “Why haven’t you been sleeping well?” 

Ladybug was pointedly not looking at him now. “I’ve been having… nightmares,” she whispered. She hiccuped again and tightened her arms around herself. “Nightmares about you getting hurt, and my Miraculous Cure not healing you.” 

Oh. 

Oh. 

“So today-” 

“It was almost identical to one of the nightmares I had a few weeks ago,” Ladybug murmured. “When I saw you laying against the wall, I was terrified you were… you know.” 

More than anything, Chat wanted to step over there and wrap his arms around her. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and pull her close to him, and whisper into her hair that he was fine and wasn’t going anywhere. That’d he’d always be there for her. He wanted to rest his hands on her cheeks and wipe her tears away, and tell her she was never going to lose him. 

But he held himself back. He couldn’t do that. They had an agreement. 

“That didn’t happen though,” he told her instead. “I’m right here. I’m fine, and I’m not going anywhere.” 

“I know it just… felt so real…” Ladybug murmured mostly to herself, finally looking up to meet his eyes. Tears were pouring over her mask now, and the pained look she was giving him made his chest physically ache like he’d been hit all over again. 

“What can I do to tell you I’m alright?” Chat asked, his voice barely above a whisper. 

It was silent between them for a moment. Her earrings beeped, but she didn’t move. She just kept her eyes locked on his. 

“Please just kiss me already,” Ladybug whispered. 

Chat’s heart stopped. 

“But-” 

“I know what I said, but I can’t stand this anymore,” Ladybug said, stepping closer to him. “I can’t stand not being to hold your hand, or run my fingers through your hair, or-or-” she paused and shook her head to collect her thoughts. “I can’t keep pretending I’m not in love with you, Chat.” 

Chat stared at her. He stared at her as her words kept ringing through his ears. 

She loves me she loves me she loves me-

Chat felt himself moving without even thinking to do it. He wrapped his arms around her small frame and buried his face in her shoulder, a shudder running through him. 

She loved him. 

He wanted to tell her how much he loved her, but… she knew that already. 

So instead, he pulled back slightly and brought a hand up to her cheek. She gave him a small smile as he wiped the tears away with his thumb, and he leaned in. 

This kiss… was better than the last. It was so full of longing from both of them, their mouths needy as their bodies pressed flush against each other. It was slow and sweet and made Chat feel so warm inside, it was as if he was radiating sunshine. His fingers twisted into her hair, and he couldn’t help but realize she still tasted like sugar. 

Her earrings beeped against, and Chat sighed as she pulled away. 

Her cheeks were flushed pink and her lips were slightly swollen, and Chat felt his heart skip a beat at the sight. 

“You didn’t use your Cataclysm, right?” Ladybug asked, her voice a little hoarse. 

Chat frowned. “Uh, no. Why?” He had no idea what that had to do with them kissing. 

Ladybug smiled at him, and there was no hint of sadness left in her eyes. 

“I have cookies in my pocket, so if you wait here for five minutes, I’ll be right back.” 

Then, without waiting for a response she yoyoed to a neighboring rooftop and ducked behind a chimney. Chat smiled as he sat down on the ground, watching a pink light flash from behind the brick. 

His chest felt funny, but it wasn’t pain that was causing it. No, all he felt was warmth.

[grim-faux]

4 - Committed to Survival

Rather fix the camera in its hoister now, I’d wait until I wasn’t around the water.  The path out of this place felt long and oppressive, the sharp smell of mildew at this point drilling a painful ache in my head.  I shut the mesh door behind me and trudged up the stairs to the first landing, where a tolerable light source awaited.

MKULTRA program, CIA document no. 190691, p. 1, excerpt  To: File  Subject: Hypnotic Experimentation and Research, Febuary 10, 1954  On Wednesday, 10 Febuary, 1954, hypnotic experimentation and research work was continued in Building 13 of the Mount Massive Preserve in Colorado using the following subjects.

  <material abridged> 

1. A posthypnotic of the night before (pointed finger, you will sleep) was enacted. Misses Jackson and Pierce immediately progressed to a deep hypnotic state with no further suggestion.  Miss Pierce was then instructed (having previously expressed a fear of firearms in any fashion) that she would use every method at her disposal to awaken miss Jackson (now in a deep hypnotic sleep), and failing this, she would pick up a nearby pistol and fire it at Miss Jackson. She was instructed that her rage would be so great that she would not hesitate to “kill” Jackson for failing to awaken. 

2. Miss Pierce carried out these suggestions to the letter including firing the (unloaded pneumatic pistol) gun at Jackson and then proceeding to fall into a deep sleep. After proper suggestions were made, both were awakened and expressed complete amnesia for the entire sequence. Miss Pierce was again handed the gun, which she refused (in an awakened state) to pick up or accept from the operator.  She expressed absolute denial that the foregoing sequence had happened.” In the least my little souvenir was interesting.  Hypnoses to cure fears, or force a person to perform a desired function.  I read files on this but the fancy didn’t strike me, people liked to read those sorts of articles but I wasn’t prime on reporting them. I left the file on the landing and made the ground floor.  I exhaled a breath of relief to see my surroundings unchanged, whether good or bad.  At least the big fucker had left most of the building intact.  I made my uneventful trek back to the Security room, I didn’t like the idea of a gaping hole behind me at this point, but I wasn’t about to prop that heavy metal door up with that little rolling chair. Call me lazy, I just wanted to get the doors open and put a fuck lot of distance between here, and the remnants of my healthy psyche.  I wasn’t going to be normal after this, alright? The terminal looked like it would still function, some of the monitors seemed to be spazing out from the abrupt shut down.  The main root, system controls, was up and ready to go. I managed to type in the first half of Security before someone crashed into me from behind, I didn’t even hear them enter.  I tried to push back and throw them off but they had braced a knee into the back of my leg, the edge of the terminal bit into my bruised thigh.  I already knew who it was even before he braced his arms over my chest, pain rippled up my side as he wrenched my head up.  Something metal flashed across my vision.  A needle! It was jammed into the base of my neck, my vision flashed as whatever the hypodermic was filled with drowned my senses.  He released me and I collapsed against the desk, my forehead started to tingle and I immediately worried over what was in that needle.  I leaned against my arms struggling to drag my failing strength back, but it was impossible.  The blue chair rolled over the clean portion of the floor as he nudged it aside, and moved close beside me.  I turned my head to watch his movement, his foul black robe swelled along my peripheral vision.  Getting hard to focus.  Felt like my legs were turning into jello. “I’m sorry, my son, I didn’t want to have to do this to you.”  He revealed the needle and grasped my hand.  “But you can’t leave, not yet.”  I jerked my hand away from his clammy grasp and brushed him off.  I tried to turn, push him away.  I want nothing to do with you.  Nothing!  Just let me Leave!   Without the support of the desk my legs gave out.  The Priest caught me under the arms and lowered me to my knees.  My shoulder pressed into the side of the metal desk as I stared up into his face.  He was bald, with wild eyes that frightened me.  “There is so much yet for you to witness.”   Oh god. “Will you see it?  Can you?”  With one arm latched to my side, he used the other hand to turn my head towards a gray video feed.  My thoughts were muddled, it was a room.  Camera looking down in a room, with a desk, wall with windows.  Bright windows.  Everything in that room was bright.  A symbol.  Rings on the floor.  Sharp ovals.  People in the room.  Holding guns.  Looked like MHS cops.  The guy I watched die.  I tried to get out…. “Our lord the Walrider, tearing His truth into the unbelievers.”  They were dying.  My eyes drooped but I fought to keep focus, what was killing them?  Dragging them off, throttling them, blood everywhere.  This place was turning red, full of blood.  Blood up to my knees, I was running from my shadow.  What did they see?  What was killing them?  What did he put into me? “The only way out of this place is the truth.”  My head rolled back to him.  The drugs made me weak and heavy, and I couldn’t care less for what he was saying.  The lights dimmed and I sank to my side.  His last words rang through my mind.   “Accept the gospel and all doors will open before you.” The dark. There was safety in the dark.  There was comfort in the dark.  The dark was the unknown.  The dark was all encompassing.  The dark was unmovable. Unless there was light.  That terrible light. I awoke once, enveloped in white, everything was bright and painful to bear.  By my side was a dark shape, the Priest.  I blinked and he was outside the door, it looked like he was speaking to a man with ants crawling on his face. Maybe it was a dream.  The road was very long, and it was already night.  It didn’t matter what time visiting hours ended, I planned to snoop around the grounds anyway and pick up whatever looked incriminating.  But I had to film something concrete, or my contacts would just scoff. When I arrived, the patients were wandering the front lawn in white shrouds.  Something without form was tearing through them, tossing their bodies like broken toys against the walls, muscle and lungs were tangled in the barbed wire.  Amidst them was Chris Walker, the other patients had bowed before him.  It didn’t look like he cared.  His face was splint back in a cruel grin, but his eyes were milky and dead. Once I had gotten away from the Asylum, I collapsed in the woods.  Everything hurt, my body was broken.  Death wasn’t the punishment anymore.  I didn’t have to worry about paying the bills, a boyfriend, my next job - nothing mattered.  The fight was over.  I curled up in the wet leaves and sank into a deep sleep, the dead of winter closed in, but not even the cold could reach me.  There was just the indiscriminate black that awaited at the end of it all. A soft groan escaped me as I roused, clearing the short rest from my stiff lungs.  I opened my eyes to view murky shapes, odd lines in the white walls.  The damn light was too bright, I turned my head and felt the dull pain in my neck reminding me of the previous events.  Everything felt muggy and pointless to my mind, but at least I was alone.    It felt like I had slept on the world’s hardest substance, the material crinkled nastily as I shifted.  Smelt like a retirement homes bad day, but at this point I didn’t give a damn.  Same scenario if you were drunk off your ass, you didn’t give a damn where you passed out.  I put a hand to my collar and brought it back.  No blood.  Probably bruised like hell, but otherwise fine.  My brain was still working out the crap that guy injected me with, should probably be the least of my worries.   For a while I lay on that stiff cot, staring at the walls until they came into focus.  Crosses and words scrawled everywhere.  Some of it in blood.  I took it this was His cell. I didn’t feel ready to resume my personal vendetta for freedom, but options were a luxury I feared I was now banned from.  Time was my worst enemy, and my chances of walking out alive dwindled the longer I wavered.  Either way, I didn’t want to be here when He returned. Slowly I sat up, making mental note of the injuries that had set into my body.  I coughed a bit of blood onto my sleeve, but that didn’t alarm me.  But I would check in to the hospital first chance I had.  A real hospital. Very considerate of the Priest to leave the camera, but he had reinforced his desires into me that I was to be his Apostle.  I flipped the visor open and raised it to the walls. “The priest, FATHER MARTIN brought me here to show me something. Thinks I’m going to be a witness for whatever batshit crazy he’s trying to sell me. This DR. WERNICKE is at the center of whatever went wrong here. But he died more than ten years ago. ‘Rest in Peace,’ says the blood on the wall.“ Fuck the story, when I get out of here I was going to write a New York Times best seller.  “How I Survived the Worst Tip in my Career.”  By Miles Upshur.  In your face, Oprah. The door had no visible lock or latch mechanism.  How did I get out?  Maybe if I pushed. That didn’t seem to work, but as I peered out of the small window a face shot into the lens of my camera startling me.  A click echoed, and the figure darted off.  Though the door was now wide open, I waited.  I had no idea what was out there, let alone where the hell I was NOW.  I hadn’t seen much before he unlocked the cell.  But the question I needed answered immediately, where was I in this god awful place?  Far from the safest exit, of course! Tentatively, I crept forward, but what was I going to do if someone decided to come in next?  I wasn’t hiding in here. This was better than Disney land.  I think every ghost hunter in the world would donate a kidney, just to spend a night in this place.  It was the main ward of the asylum, its heart, where all the crazies hung out.   Below, I saw a few of the frequents.  One man patrolling, smashing his skull into blood stained concrete with bone cracking force.  I winced with each impact. “Back!  Get back!”  To my right a man lunged at a segregation gate rattling at the bars, shrieking his lungs out.  “Get the fuck away from me!  Rrah!  Huh…don’t look at me.  Don’t you dare….” I whirled away from him, relying fully on the doors capacity to withstand his violence, even if fate did not favor me this hour.  I walked along the bland and gray wall, glancing down to the people on the lower floor.  Had they been this messed up before Murkoff got ahold of them?  They were using dream therapy to alter their higher cognitive functions of the mind, didn’t look like these people had that treatment.  Even if they had, I still wouldn’t be able to distinguish them from your typical lunatic. I shuddered to think if Murkoff had been trying to cure their mental deficiency in order to use them for further experimentation later on. The smell.  Like all the filthy alley ways and slums in every city in the world.  I could hardly breathe without gaging, filth was everywhere.  It was a miracle these people weren’t dead from contamination.  Or maybe it was some sort of curse.  This was no sort of life for a human. The window parallel to my face burst open and a hand shot out, grabbing for my head as I ducked.  I smashed against the rail and stared up as the arm continued to grope blindly for nothing, then withdrew.  The shock wore off quickly and I stood up to gaze on the face that met mine. Skin had been cut and moved, tacked down in cruel areas.  It looked like his right eyelid had been removed, the eye now a shriveled sack in the socket.  Despite his earlier ‘attack,’ I think I felt sorry for him. I was still glad his door was locked. The next door was open, but I could change that. “Said he shouldn’t hurt you,” a voiced hummed from within. Inside, opposite to a blood splashed corner, stood a man pawing at his face.  He too had been mutualized by some form of surgery, one eye stitched shut and his face scarred by malpractice.  “Is what he said.” I glanced around, then turned back to him and raised the camera.  “Father Martin?” “Our Father,” he corrected.  “Told him not to hurt you.  But when the cat’s away….Hmmmm….Mmmmm.” Everything in me screamed, slam that door now.  But I didn’t.  Quietly, I backed away and left him as he was.  If he was a danger, he was the least of my concerns.  Shutting the door might agitate him, and there were people on the floor below that seemed to not have noticed my presence yet. I slipped around the pillar of the next corner and walked towards the metal door on this side of the level. “Who’s this?” I stopped in my tracks and stared at the speaker, cloaked by shadow.  That was all they were cloaked by. “Maybe…Farther Martin’s man.” “Maybe.”  The first seemed excited by my presence.  My hair stood on end and I knew without a doubt, I should not be near them. The thick metal gate stood between us and presumably was locked, but I couldn’t make that gamble.  Even without the NV I could distinguish their lack of apparel, their shapes were tall and sinewy, and they appeared to be identical twins.  Splattered with blood. “He looks nervous.” “I would like to kill him.” I hid behind the pillar a little more. “As would I…”  His voice made the task sound tedious.  I really didn’t want to be here at this particular moment. “The preacher asked us not to.” “It would be impolite.” “Not here.” They paused. “We give him a running start?” “There’s an idea.” “And when we kill him, we kill him slow.” “Such patience.” I was done.  I was gone.  I was staggering down the steps searching for a way out of this mad house.  “I want his tongue.  And liver.” “They are yours.” Was there a way out?  Not from down here, the only route I could see had the camera shy freak and my new fan club.  They were giving me a running start.  What the FUCK did that mean?! “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”  Said the man staring at a pillar.  I decided from this point on, for the safety of my psyche and my body parts I did NOT need to speak with ANYONE.  They could talk to me, I was not going to converse back. Someone darted from the group into an open door, and slammed it.  One less to worry over.  Two men still roamed, there was a third sitting in a wheelchair.  I didn’t trust anyone in a wheelchair anymore. The two rooms on either side of the stairs had nothing to offer, no tools or messages, or items of interest.  I had a fear of standing in the doorways, unless someone opened the door from the outside I could be locked in.  The man staring at his pillar, he had been the one to let me out in the first place.  I didn’t want to ask if there was a way out of this area. The Priest had brought me here, how the hell did he get out?  Unless, he was still here…. “Don’t trust them.”  I jerked away from the man in the wheelchair, I had given him his distance though it was doubtful he could do much.  His mutilation went beyond the laws of humanity, scars and broken flesh healed over.   I raised my camera and knelt down, but I refused to get too close.  “They’ll tell you it’s science but it’s not.  They were…waiting for us.  In this place.  Billy understood.  They’ve always been here.” I wanted to ask him about Billy.  About the experiments and the Walrider, and what he meant by ‘they.’  But I was frightened by what he might say.  If he said any more.  Uttering this information had seemed to exhaust him, and his head wilted to his shoulder.  Briefly, I wondered if he had fallen asleep or had he finally escaped this place. I shivered and stood.  A way out that involved my body and I escaping together, and in one piece.  That seemed like a naive dream. I didn’t bother with the door behind him, or the one after that.  Though, as I passed by a face appeared in the glass.  I stared, and ‘he’ stared back.  My mind was attempting to fathom how someone without a mouth could survive, unless there was a tube in his nose, but even his nostrils were compromised.  It looked like there was an opening in his throat, reminiscent to smokers that suffered cancer and had their larynx removed. This place was god awful.  I had to keep reminding myself that, the more I looked around, the more I felt.  Even for a clutch of crazy people, murderers, whatever.  I think the worst ones were the men and women that consciously decided they were going to mangle the part of them that wasn’t broken beyond function.  Then, crack their minds open and figure out to what extent they could fuck their thoughts up even more. I was between feeling terrible and feeling like bitter justice was served.  Everything was a whirling mess of gray with globs of black. One room I entered on the far side had a patient curled up on his cot, trembling.  I knelt down to film him through the nightvision feed, taking in the details of his misshapen face.  Many of the patients I had encountered thus far had scars or wounds of unknown origin, from experiments Murkoff was performing on them.  It was briefly mentioned in Chris Walker’s file, many of his injuries were self-inflicted, but the report indicated not all.  Were the patient’s the one mutilating their bodies, prior to Murkoff’s fall?  Not all of them shared these injuries, some appeared almost normal or unharmed.   It must have been a part of the process Murkoff was putting them through.  But what sort of process I couldn’t begin to imagine.  Some of the scars appeared almost like chemical burns in theory.  What sort of monster would give an order to maim humans? “Too many voices.  They followed me back.”  He stumbled into me as I swayed to get out of his way.  “No more sleep.”  He grabbed my collar and forced me aside, and then continued on toward a bloody spot on the wall without pause.  Wack. Smack! Crack! Clack! “They’re in my blood and they want to get out.  Can feel….” I continued to back away until I was a safe distance, concealed in shadows.  My back pressed against the cold wall and I slid down to sit. “We angered Him with our science.  He only wanted faith.” The voice sounded very close, but when I turned my camera to find him, he was a few feet away curled up tightly in a corner.  I sat there for what felt like a long time observing the habits of these people, lost in madness.  Eventually the man whom stared at pillar did move, at first leaning on his subject matter, then slipping down until he was on his side facing the cold concrete structure.  I turned my attention back to the man in wheelchair, but he had not yet moved since he spoke.  I wondered if he did indeed die.  It made no difference to me, not at this time, but I did feel a unique chill in my veins at the thought.  How many people have I watched die today? “Voices in my head follow me back!”  When the head banger made his third round, I decided it was time to find a way out. Without a word of farewell to the squatter, I crossed to the other side of the wall to doors that had not been examined.  I was beginning to despair, surrendering resolve to the idea of returning to the upper level, to the twins. It was very likely they would open the door only to murder me.  There was no place for me to run, or hide.  Especially with the two of them, they’d corner me with little effort if I tried.  My heart thudded against the stress, and that persistent pain in my chest.  I needed a doctor. A door I opened finally offered some promise, the back of the room was shattered revealing a crack into an open work space.  A shred of concern did remain in me to enter a room in which I could not open from the inside, but I didn’t give a damn at this point.  I squeezed through the gap and pulled up the nightvision, it sounded like someone was struggling. I wasn’t confident in facing the source, if I had someplace to run I might felt more assured.  Truth was safety was an illusion in Mount Massive, my only hope for survival was my capacity to elude danger.   There wasn’t much to see in the work hall, pipes for water, pipes for gas, I couldn’t tell which from the static green NV feed.  The noises were muffled but grew louder as I moved through the work space.  I didn’t like the sound of them.  Overhead the cement had been torn out, where the debris was removed to remained a mystery but it was a direction to take. I climbed onto a crate and made sure it was sturdy before leaping up to an overhead ledge.  For a span I was completely blind in the dark, the camera strap I stuck in my mouth rather the case so I could reach it quicker.  Once I had pulled myself onto the floor I knelt and took it up, looking immediately into the visor. A face covered in ants stared back. I gave a sharp yelp and toppled sideways, catching the jagged edge with my elbows before I fell through, my legs swung beneath me and I struggled not to drop the camera in my hand.  Groaning, I pulled myself back up and crawled away before checking once more. “Agh!  God damnit!  What the fuck is the matter with you?”  One of the patients had plastered himself against a wall and was fixing his shirt.  He wasn’t wearing pants.  On the floor across from him was a bloodied and decapitated body, nude, in a…suggestive position. “You weren’t invited to this, you god damned sicko.” Just….This place needed to go to hell.  Some of the people here did deserve what they got. “What, you like to watch?”  He pointed directly at me and reaffirmed his diagnosis.  “It’s sick.  You’re sick.” And thus my pledge, not to speak to any of these people, was solidified.  You couldn’t stage better propaganda. “Fuck this place. Seriously, just fuck this place. Dying keeps moving lower on the list of the worst things that could happen to me here.” I jogged down the hall, an otherwise good mood literally—No, no.  I needed to forget.  Positive thoughts, healthy thoughts.  I was terribly fucking lost, had no map, two naked men were admitted into my fan club, and dying was no longer top of the list of shitty ways to ruin this day. Or night.  I had no fucking idea. “Hey!  Hey!”  I stopped in an intersecting hall when someone called for me, and rattled a gate.  He was on the other side, which made me happy.  “You… Oh.  I….”  By the time I had my camera zoomed in he had already spun about and was running away.  The small event had me smirking despite everything, who did he think I was?  A friend? Lord give me strength, I was just mistaken for a loony.  And I thought it was funny.

[moonstruckbucky]

Made to Suffer [one-shot]

Summary: In a world where you’re surrounded by death, you just want to feel something.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, graphic violence, death, SMUT EXPLICIT 18+, please don’t read if under 18!, major character death

Notes: Probably one of my favorite crossovers to ever write. The Walking Dead is my favorite show besides Game of Thrones and when Fatima (@revengingbarnes ) came up with a Marvel/TV crossover challenge, I had to enter! Congrats on the milestone and thanks for hosting such an awesome challenge!

Forewarning you all, this will be graphically violent. I’m a sick bitch who loves writing gorey scenes and, come on, it’s the zombie apocalypse. There’s nothing tame about it. It’s also long as hell. Enjoy and let me know what you think! x

P.S. - For those who don’t watch TWD, “walkers” are the zombies; they don’t use the term zombies in the show.

When Bucky, Steve, and Nat were sent into a Hydra base with the intent of extracting biological weapons, they hadn’t been counting on that weapon being rigged to the entire facility, set to be released into the air upon the decimation of the building itself.

The changes weren’t immediately known. When the bomb Bucky rigged had gone off, there were no strange colored clouds dissipating into the air, no inclinations that something sinister had occurred. So how could they have known?

Patient zero was a thirty-three-year old woman from Queens, who displayed symptoms of the flu, intensified by chronic vomiting and a fever that never dropped below a hundred and five degrees. Her temperature had continued to rise until her body merely burned out and succumbed. No one, least of all the doctors assigned to her case, expected her to reanimate and escape the morgue.

Even less expected was her attacking the morgue attendant and sinking her teeth into his jugular. It only snowballed from there; hospitals and care centers rapidly filled with the sick. The military was dispatched to contain them. Sanctuaries and refugee centers were erected in all major cities.

The Avengers were outnumbered. Bruce and Helen Cho worked tirelessly on a potential cure, experimenting and testing and recalibrating until both of them were overtaken by the sick—the dead—and Steve and Natasha were forced to put them down.

It had been discovered by accident, the way to kill them for good. Destroy the brain, destroy the monster.

Bucky couldn’t believe his eyes, couldn’t believe what he was seeing on the news as images and videos of burning houses and buildings flooded the screen. The news anchors couldn’t keep the terror out of their voices as they narrated what was happening behind them. He sat in the common room, eyes red-rimmed, glassy, and focused as his leg bounced anxiously. Bruce and Helen’s deaths hit everyone hard, especially Nat and Tony, and the two of them fell into a deep depression while at the same time working furiously to recreate some kind of serum that would reverse the effects of the illness.

It was a dead end.

Eventually, Steve, Nat, Bucky, Tony, and the others were forced to leave Avengers Tower. Not even Tony had enough resources to keep them fed through this. With everything they could carry on their backs—changes of clothes in Nat and Clint’s packs, the entire Avengers pantry in Bucky and Steve’s, and the notes on a serum in Tony’s—they left the city.

It was tough, those first months out on the road. Tony insisted heading south towards Georgia, where the CDC may have held answers. They never made it. The freeways and main roads were so congested with cars and the dead that they were forced to head west instead. They ran into trouble: other, less friendly groups, hordes of the dead, packs of dogs who’d forgotten how to be the family pet.

Tony was the first of their group to die. Tetanus, if you could believe it, after scaling a building in an attempt to get their bearings. His footing slipped as he climbed, and a sharp edge of the rusted ladder sliced the inside of his forearm wide open. Sam had stopped the bleeding, but none could have predicted the symptoms that followed.

They buried him in the trees somewhere in Illinois. Nat and Steve weren’t the same. The two of them became harder, colder, more ruthless. A dangerous duo that began taking unnecessary risks in order to keep them all safe.

It cost Sam his life. It gravely injured Clint, which only caused Nat to spiral further. With the loss of Sam, Steve was inconsolable and hard as steel, so far gone that Bucky saw no trace of his best friend anymore. He and Steve butted heads; Bucky questioned every choice Steve made as the unofficially appointed leader of their group. Nat took Steve’s side every time, often resorting to physical blows when Bucky stepped out of line. He’d forgotten how lethal she could be.

It’s what inevitably led him to leaving the group. He waited until nightfall, knowing neither Steve nor Nat would willingly let him leave. Steve wouldn’t be able to handle losing his oldest friend, but Bucky could hardly be pressed to care. Steve was no longer the boy he grew up with or the patriotic, self-righteous hero who fought for Bucky’s innocence all those years ago. 

He had a feeling Nat’s super spy instincts knew when he snuck out of camp, one pack slung over his shoulder full of pilfered goods from their stores, but she either saw it coming or didn’t rightly care. He’d bet on the latter.

Survival took a toll on his body. He did his best to keep himself in peak physical form, using fallen trees as weights to bench press and jogging here and there, but he knew he was far smaller than he was. Still well-muscled and still gazelle-graceful, but thinner, paler, face sunken in with the lack of nutrition. He had trouble sleeping, nightmares flashing in his head. Only this time, they were images of his dead friends—Tony, succumbing to tetanus, unable to move a muscle; Sam, overcome and taken apart by the dead when one of Steve’s suicide runs went awry; Bruce and Helen, pale, milky-eyed, with snapping jaws and dead fingers reaching out.

He didn’t sleep much after those started, took to moving from place to place at night. He stayed in abandoned houses, raided cabinets and closets and garages for any food or weapons, slept in a storage unit once after picking the lock. His super-soldier senses aided him in avoided the dead; he could hear, smell, and see them before they saw him, giving him ample time to hide either in a building or up in a tree if he was in the wilderness.

It became routine, hide, eat, move. The loneliness didn’t bother him so much as the silence did. He didn’t have Sam’s stupid jokes or nicknames to annoy him, didn’t have Steve’s chastising voice in his ear, did have Nat giving him advice on how to combat the nightmares. Hell, he’d take Tony’s cold indifference to him over the silence. It gave him too much room to dwell, to think about anything other than survival.

Somewhere near the border of Missouri, he stopped in a gated neighborhood. His body was running on empty despite the racing of his mind. His stores were depleting, and he desperately needed to sleep. He’d risk the nightmares, just this once.

He chose a house with its door wide open. A knife in each hand, he crept through the doorway, icy eyes searching each room thoroughly for danger. Furniture, covered in layers of dust, lay tipped over in the living room. The kitchen was in a similar state of disarray, but his sharp eyes didn’t miss the disturbance of dust on the counter. The marble was stark white where something had brushed the dust away. Immediately Bucky was on high alert, ears straining for any noise.

There it was. The creak of a floorboard upstairs. Fingers tightening on his knives, he crept up the stairs on silent feet. He steadied his breathing, jaw clenched as he ascended. He rounded the corner of the stairs, gaze flitting between the three doors of the second floor. The first door bore a bedroom, a kid’s if the posters and toys was any indication (Bucky had to swallow down his unease). The second was a bathroom, revealing further evidence that someone was staying here.

He stalked to the final bedroom, poised like a predator hunting his prey. Bucky allowed just a sliver of the Soldier in, just enough to keep his focus. His body went rigid as the Soldier crept to the forefront of his mind, attention firmly on the task at hand. Shoulders straight, Bucky inched forwards, gently pushing open the door and hovering just inside the frame. His eyes swept the room, settling first on the unmade bed that looked recently slept in and continuing on to the closed closet door.

Eyes narrowing to slits, Bucky stepped forward until his nose nearly touched the door. He could pick up a heartbeat behind it, surprised to find it steady and strong. Not a dead one, then. Bucky inhaled, ready to throw the doors open, but he startled backwards as they flew open of their seemingly own accord. Before he could blink he took a boot to the chest, sending him backwards into the bed, where he collapsed and bounced upon the soft mattress.

As he sat up, he grunted as a body landed atop his chest, knees pinning his arms and a gun held to his forehead. Eyes wide with surprise, he took in the figure straddling him.

Your breathing was steady as you glared down at the man trapped beneath you. Your grip on the gun was firm, index finger hovering just over the trigger. The man’s icy eyes were wide but without any trace of fear. Instead, he looked mildly annoyed at having been bested.

“What do you want?” you growled, voice hoarse from disuse.

The man’s eyes flickered yours before they took in your gun. Jaw muscle twitching, he moved like lightning, knocking you off balance enough to wedge his hand between his head and the gun. His gloved palm pressed, disengaging the slide and rendering the gun useless. With a growl the man twisted his body, pinning you to the bed and knocking the gun out of your hands. It clattered to the floor, forgotten as you lay helpless beneath him.

Bucky held your wrists in his hands, barely having broken a sweat, and as he looked down at you, he caught a brief flash of fear behind your eyes. Coming back to himself, he loosened his grip on you just a little.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said. “I’ll let you up, but please promise me you won’t go for that gun and shoot me.”

You stayed silent, watching him closely as he released your wrists and straightened up off the bed. A small part of your brain felt saddened by the sudden loss of his weight on top of you, but you shut that down quickly. Now’s not the time.

You sat up as the man backed away, hands raised in front of him. Now that there was some distance between you, you took time to appraise him. Tall, muscular form, long-sleeved shirt that only just hid his physique. Glove on one hand, the left, long legs supported by thick thighs. Your eyes traveled up. Sharp jawline, high cheekbones that were slightly sunken in, a sharp, straight nose, deep circles under wintry blue eyes. Long, greasy dark hair hung limply in his face. 

Well, he was certainly the most attractive visitor you’d entertained recently. Another glance at his face revealed his smirk, as if he could hear your thoughts, see where your mind had gone. It hadn’t helped that you’d subconsciously tugged your bottom lip invitingly between your teeth.

Bucky was no stranger to desire, though he had to admit it hadn’t been the first thing on his mind as of late. But now, as he stood before you under your scrutinizing gaze, he couldn’t deny the rush of heat as his blood warmed beneath his skin and his heartrate increased just slightly. His own eyes roved over your form, took in the shape of your body, the curves of your waist, hips, and legs clad in tight dark pants. You wore unlaced boots.

“Who are you? And what do you want?” Your voice pulled him from the recesses of his mind, where images of you underneath him had him shifting his position as his pants grew tighter.

“Name’s Bucky. I was looking for somewhere to lay low for a bit, recharge.”

His voice was smooth like honey with a smokiness that made you shiver. The sound curled over you, warming and filling your body with want. His mouth quivered with a smile, detecting the rise in your heartbeat. 

“I can find somewhere else, if you’re uncomfortable,” he offered, eyebrow raising a little. With the way your eyes were devouring him, the hitch in your breathing, he knew it wasn’t what you wanted, but he put it out there.

“N-No,” you stammered, clearing your throat as your voice was a raspy croak. “You can stay. I have some spare supplies.”

“What’s your name?” His voice made you pause in turning around to head downstairs. You told him quietly and he nodded, stepping forward to follow you.

You shared a few canned goods with him after warming them in the fireplace, the two of you dining on opposite sides of the room. Bucky’s eyes found you in the fire light, dancing across your form as you scraped the last of your Spaghettios out of the bottom of the can and set it aside.

“How long have you been alone?” he asked, almost hesitantly. Your eyes lifted to the flames, glossing over just a bit as you thought.

“Not long,” you eventually replied. Your sister was the last to die, only about three weeks ago now. He didn’t press further. “You?”

“Few months, I think. Gets hard to keep track of time.”

You hummed in agreement but froze as footsteps on your porch pulled your attention. Bucky was on high alert, back straight and shoulders rigid, eyes flying to the door. A muffled gurgle made you relax.

“Just a walker. It’ll go away,” you muttered, shoulders sagging against the chair. Bucky took a little longer to relax, wanting to make sure one wouldn’t turn into fifty.

When the walker wandered off, its interest pulled somewhere else, Bucky sat back with a sigh. Crossing his arms over his chest, he tipped his head back against the couch and closed his eyes. It allowed you a moment to look him over again. He was a specimen, that’s for sure, even with his slightly-sunken face. Your body warmed again, flushing deliciously. You shifted on the floor, attempting to quell the sudden ache between your legs.

When he shifted and straightened again, you averted your eyes to the fire, trying and failing to hold back a yawn.

“Get some sleep,” Bucky’s voice cut through the silence. “I’ll keep watch.”

You thought about arguing, took in the darkness under his eyes, but his strong, insistent gaze tied up your tongue. You nodded, sighing as you stood and stretched. You bid him a quiet goodnight before heading upstairs to your bedroom.

You hadn’t been asleep long when the nightmares began. They were always the same: your family, falling victim to the dead one by one. Your father, taken by surprise on a supply run; your brother, shot by accident when your sister tried to save the two of you; your niece and nephew, far too young to experience something as agonizing as starvation; your mother, so overcome with grief that she walked herself into a group of walkers; and finally, your sister, killed by another group, hostile and barbaric.

Downstairs, Bucky dozed lightly, brain still very much awake. A quiet whimper jostled him awake before a louder shriek spurred him into action. He took the stairs two at a time, just as you let out another scream. He slammed into the bedroom door, nearly taking it off its hinges, and his eyes found your body on the bed, sheets twisted around your bared legs, sweating shining in the moonlight streaming through the window.

He said your name, winced when all he received was another painful whimper.

“Mom,” your voice cried out. “Please, no!”

No stranger to nightmares, Bucky walked to the bed and grasped your shoulders in his large hands, shaking you gently. He repeated your name.

“Hey, wake up, doll, wake up! It’s a dream!” he implored, jumping back when you awoke with a gasp. Your hands came up to grasp his wrists, your brow furrowing when the gloved one didn’t give under your grip.

“Bucky?” you asked breathlessly, and, damn it, if that wasn’t the sexiest sound he’d ever heard. His body reacted, stomach clenching, cock twitching in his pants. He swallowed down the desire welling up within him and licked his dry lips.

“I’m here. Are you all right?” he whispered, gloved hand reaching up towards your face before he rethought it and pulled it back.

Your eyelashes fluttered against your cheeks, damp with sweat and tears. Wordlessly, you reached out for him, fingers curling around his forearms to pull him down closer. Noses brushing, he could feel your breaths on his lips, his muscles straining with restraint. 

“I need you,” you pleaded, the words hovering between you before you could rethink it. You could see the slight hesitation in his eyes even as his pupils dilated, nearly swallowing the icy blueness of his irises. “Please, just let me feel something.”

Your lips swallowed his gasp as you surged upwards off the bed and you gave him no time to pull away. Your mouth opened under his, tongue gliding along the seam of his mouth. His brows furrowed in momentary confusion until your tongue licked into his mouth, tasting him. His moan was muffled by you and he let himself fall forward onto the bed, propped on his elbows.

His mouth was pliant against yours, filling you with a warmth you haven’t felt in....years. Curling your fingers into his shirt, you tugged him down, causing him to nearly lose his balance as his feet slipped along the floor. He adjusted, lifting a knee onto the plush mattress, and settled above you.

His hands lit a fire under your skin wherever he touched, your waist, your hips, your breasts. When he gently squeezed the soft mounds, you mewled into his mouth, back bowing to arch into his touch. He squeezed his eyes shut when your hands splayed against his chest before diving low to the hem of his shirt. Stomach clenching as your nails tickled him, his mouth dropped open and he sighed.

His head felt fuzzy yet awakened as you pressed yourself against him, lifted the shirt from his torso and bodily rolled him over. Your lips carved a path down his scruffy jaw, to his neck, where your teeth nipped at his pulse point and his cock twitched inside his jeans. He felt your smirk against his skin as you continued to map out his body, hands and lips and tongue combining to nearly make him combust. 

It had been so long since he’d been touched, and with the way your hands and mouth were working him over, he was momentarily worried this would be over far sooner than he wanted it to be. Your deft fingers tugged his belt buckle free, slid the zipper on his jeans down. He lifted his hips, blushed crimson at your smirk to find him bare beneath the denim.

You nipped at his inner thighs, sending pleasant shivers right up his spine. He was harder than marble, his cockhead purple and leaking and begging for your touch. Yet you continued to dance around it, pressing kisses to his hip bones, dipping your tongue along his Adonis belt, driving him mad with want. He gasped, head thrown back against your pillow when you suckled at one of his balls, the wet warmth of your mouth nearly his undoing. 

“D-Doll,” he whimpered, his flesh hand drifting down to tangle in your hair. “Please. Please touch me.”

Your eyes flickered up to him, pupils wide and wanting and full of mischief. Minx. “Since you asked so nicely.”

Bucky would swear he died and went to heaven when you finally, finally put your mouth on him. Eased down his length inch by slow, agonizing inch, and it took all of his super-soldier strength not to thrust upwards and bury himself down your throat. His mouth dropped open, a deep groan wrenching from his throat when he hit the back of your throat and you swallowed around him.

Sweat beaded across his forehead, bottom lip pinched painfully in his teeth as he rocked his hips to the rhythm of your mouth. Fire gathered in his belly, electricity zipping up his spine, and he strangled out a protest, fingers tightening in your hair.

You pulled off him with a wet pop that had the muscles in his thighs clenching. Climbed up his body to settle yourself on his lap. Fire radiated from your core, and he could feel your wetness, itched to bury himself to the hilt. But he took his time stripping you of the sleeping clothes you wore, admired each reveal of bare skin.

Finally, naked on top of him, your wetness allowing him to glide along your folds. Nails carving crescents into his chest as he arched his hips and slid seamlessly inside you. Head thrown back as your body found a rhythm. Bucky danced his hands along your sides, watching as goose flesh rose in the wake of his metal one. When a silver fingertip circled a nipple, you whimpered and pressed your breasts closer.

With your velvet warmth engulfing him, he released embarrassingly fast. But you continued to rock even as his warmth gushed inside you and reached for his metal hand. Brought it to the apex of your thighs where he wound tight little circles to send you careening over the edge with a sharp cry.

Jesus fuck, he nearly came again with the sensation of you tightening around him, fluttering around him as your body went lax above him. You leaned forward over his chest, eyes glassy and completely blissed out. Brushed a wayward lock of his hair behind his ear and kissed him once. Head tucked under his chin,  him softening inside you, it was peaceful, quiet, the sounds of your breaths the only sound in the room.

He swept a hand over your back. The metal one, and you shivered, nudging closer with a hum. You fell asleep like that, and after a few moments of your soft breaths, Bucky followed.

The next morning, he was woken by a buzzing. A steady, but rising hum that had his eyelids fluttering. He was on his side, curled around you as you slumbered away. He lifted his head from the pillow, blearily looking around the room. Nothing.

Rising from the bed, padding to the window, a moment of silent shock before he was thrown into action.

He shook you awake at the same time he tugged on his pants, a sense of urgency pulling you out of your deep sleep. Took in his panicked eyes, mouth moving, telling you you need to move. A herd outside, bigger than any he’s ever seen.

Must’ve been walking for days, gathered numbers beyond countable, made its way here.

You insisted you could wait it out, stay silent and let it pass. But Bucky wasn’t hearing it, countering that the herd would take down the whole house and end  up inside anyways. He tossed you your belongings, nearly knocked you out with a boot, and you hurried to dress and gather your weapons.

You led him out the back, quick and silent and through the trees surrounding the yard. There were stragglers out here, not enough to be cumbersome but enough to keep your alertness on high. Bucky’s assassin training went into overdrive, ears and eyes straining for any sign of the massive herd. A deafening crack as it no doubt nearly leveled a house with its strength. He wouldn’t say it, but he was scared, especially since you weren’t as silent as he was, and more and more walkers appeared out from behind trees like some kind of Halloween walk.

Sweat poured into his eyes, hair plastered to his forehead, he went cold when he heard your shriek. Three of the dead around you, dead fingers had your arms in a vice. Bucky saw red. Disposed of them with a brutality he hadn’t seen since his Winter Soldier days while you looked on in a weird combination of pride and horror. Arm gripped tightly in his metal fist, he pulled you along. It wasn’t a mission this time driving him, it was fear. For you.

In a day he’d found you wormed inside him, inside his heart, and instead of a mission to kill, he was on a mission to save. The thought would have been amusing had he not turned into a tightly-clustered copse of trees and barreled straight into five of them.

He went down, two of the dead following him while the others went right for you. With the strength of ten men he bashed their dead heads together, grimacing at the explosion of decayed, viscous, black brain matter that probably would stain his clothes. He pressed his mouth in a tight line as it dripped onto his face, and your shout of agony filled him with both ice and fire. 

He turned, body stilling completely as he took in the jagged shape of teeth in the junction of your shoulder and neck. Blood seeped into your clothing, leaked from the wound in angry red torrents, and you pressed a hand uselessly to it. It oozed between your fingers, dripped down your arm like something out of a horror movie. Your complexion was paling quickly. The snarling of more walkers made you turn, resigned. You turned glassy, shining eyes to him when he approached, hands hovering over the wound.

He didn’t think he’d ever felt so helpless. Not when he was strapped to that machine in Siberia. But this was a new sense of helplessness, watching you bleed out in front of him. The new walkers stumbled closer, driven by the scent of blood, and you pulled a gun from the waistband of your jeans, usually a last resort, and he knew.

“You need to go,” you said, voice quiet and hoarse and barely restrained with the fear that was so obvious in your eyes. Your fingers racked the slide, thumb flicking the safety. Rolled up on your toes to press a deep, salty kiss to his mouth before you wrenched away and began yelling, leading the walkers in the opposite direction of Bucky.

Bucky, who still hadn’t moved an inch. Only watched as the small group stumbled after you. One at the back strayed off, was put down by Bucky’s metal fist, and then he ran.

He could hear you yelling, urging the dead after you. Then the shots started, your yelling punctuated by a gunshot then.

Silence.

No more shouting, no more gunshots, and Bucky wanted to go back for you, though he knew it would be for nothing. He let himself cry as he ran, weaving in and out of trees until a lone hunting cabin loomed in the distance.

It was free of the dead. Cleared of anything living, dead, or otherwise, and he laid low. Mourned for you, threw a few of the cabin’s belongings in a sorrowful rage.

He spent a few days there, gathered a couple of squirrels and a fish from a nearby creek, and then he moved on. It was all he could do.

Move on.

[malecftw]

Saving Newt from the flare but paying the price -TMR imagine

A/N: I actually can’t believe I’m sitting here, writing this! My short break turned into a couple of months of little to zero activity on here so I’m kinda weirded out but impressed that I’m actually here. Thanks to everyone for being patient and giving me the space I needed. I can’t guarantee my updates will be consistent, but I’m going to try my best.

I’ve been all up in my feels for my teenage supercrush Dylan O’Brien lately so excuse this freaking throwback. Not ruling out the possibilities of writing for Stiles, Mitch and Thomas in the future cause my sugarpuff deserves all the love and attention in the world.

Warnings: angst, injury, possible character death, spoilers for The Death Cure however it doesn’t follow the original storyline

Word count: 1607

I really hope you like it! 

If you want you can check out my masterlist here X

“Y/n no, it’s too dangerous!” “Just shut up and help me, Thomas!” You felt his brown eyes burning through the back of your skull as you pulled cold the iron lever that would give you access to the restricted area of the building. “If they catch us, just take the cure and run okay.” 

The warmth of his hand on your shoulder offered you a genuine, rare feeling of comfort. “I’m not leaving you behind y/n.” At this you turned around quickly, whispering in an urgent tone: “Thomas, you’re the fastest. You’re the one that can save him.” He shook his head, eyes focussed on his feet as he struggled to come to terms with the harsh reality. You, however, quite liked the idea of getting out of there alive so you turned back around and kept yanking the lever, your hope of saving your best friend turned unbiological brother diminishing with every passing second you failed to make the damn thing move.

“What the hell are you shanks still doing here!” A figure shouted from across the -for now- abandoned hallway. “I can’t get this thing to fucking move!” The strain in your voice was evident as you clung onto the metal with your entire body weight. Minho looked at both you and Thomas, yet in a split second, he managed to get his gun and shoot the glass door to pieces. “What the fuck! The whole point was to do this thing quietly!” You shouted at Minho while Thomas ran in to grab the cure.

Minho’s pained expression, however, was not something you expected. “We’re running out of time y/n.” Your mouth opened slightly. The way Minho spoke as if he’d rather die than have to think of his best friend’s current state brought chills to your spine. He was dying.  As Thomas ran passed the both of you, there was no time to dwell on the impending doom you all felt looming over you.

Minho stayed behind a couple of steps, ensuring your safety as he kept his gun aimed at your rapidly changing environment. Keeping up with Thomas was not easy as he started sprinting, the only thing on his mind now was saving Newt so you were grateful for Minho keeping an eye on you and making sure you didn’t fall behind.

Your steps slowed when you saw a lifeless body sitting against the wall of an abandoned building. Debris scattered around him, his silhouette illuminated by a street light. Thomas started shouting his name as he approached him, not slowing down, yet the body remained still. No no no. This couldn’t be it. After all you’d done to get here! To save him. You couldn’t be too late. “Newt! Newt we’re here okay! We got the cure! Come on Newt open your eyes,” Thomas shouted, not caring who or what would hear him.

Newt’s head flung around limply on his shoulders as Thomas tried to shake him awake, a low groan passing his lips. You and Minho shared a look of relief and crouched down on either side of Thomas. What happened next, however, no one could’ve seen coming.

Just in time, you noticed the shiny blade of the knife Newt held in his bloody hand before you pushed Thomas back. The blade missed him by a couple of inches which gave you three the time to take a few steps back while Newt recovered from his sudden burst of energy. “Newt! Newt come on it’s us. You don’t wanna hurt us! We’re here to help you!” Minho said loudly over the crackling of burning buildings.  Newt didn’t seem to acknowledge Minho in his struggle to get up, using the wall to shift his body weight to. 

“Newt, please! Let us help you!” You tried. His gaze immediately shifted to you and his body stilled. You finally got through to him you thought. A long couple of seconds passed before he made a beeline for you, letting out a loud, feral growl. The impact with the hard concrete was almost immediate as Minho’s strong arms pushed you out of harm's way and you looked up to see Newt stabbing Minho in the shoulder.

The thing is, Minho could easily defend himself but he refused to risk getting Newt even more hurt than he already was so he just took the blow. Thomas leaped forward as he watched the scenario unfold, he wasn’t going to watch Newt kill Minho.  Newt groaned as he felt Thomas’ body weight on top of him, yet he was too far gone to come to the realization that this were his best friends trying to help in. Thomas’ body was violently pushed off of him when Newt got another burst of seemingly inhuman strength.

With Minho immobilized and Thomas passed out on the ground from hitting his head against some debris in his fall, you were the only one left that could determine Newt’s fate. You army crawled towards Thomas’ body as quietly as you could, the syringe with the cure sticking out of his back pocket. Minho caught on to what you were doing and was talking to Newt, trying to distract him for long enough so that you could grab the damn thing.

Newt had calmed down, the alien look in his eyes slightly fading but not enough to be sure he was him again. The words Minho spoke seemed foreign, yet they still had a familiar ring to it. Y/n, Newt couldn’t ignore the odd feeling in his stomach when he heard her name. He couldn’t really remember her, but he felt a sense of safety as the words were being processed in his brain. A constant fight between his mind and the flare keeping him from getting through to his real subconscious.

In the meantime, you’d slowly taken the cure from Thomas, waking him up in the process. You put your index finger in front of your mouth, urging him to keep quiet since he was still kind of out of it.

You’d gotten up immediately behind him without a sound, everything seemingly going to plan if it wasn’t for your moving shadow being caught by Newt’s eye. As you got ready to inject Newt, he turned around instantly as if the flare knew what you were going to do. You reacted fast, piercing Newt’s heart with the one thing that could save it. As you watched the liquid quickly making its way out of the syringe and into Newt’s body you felt another liquid running down your shirt.

In confusion, you looked down, still on the high of saving Newt. That’s when you saw the crimson liquid dripping from the handle of the knife, now stuck in your stomach. You looked back up, now sadness was painted all over your features when Newt’s face changed from twisted and flare ridden to pure regret, the cure working quickly.

Minho and Thomas still had no idea what had happened, they just watched with smiles on their faces as they saw their old best friend come back to life. Newt’s head dropped down to touch your forehead, his hand regretfully abandoning the knife in your torso, carefully trying not to cause you any more pain.

Tears pooled in your eyes as you felt his hands slowly make their way around your back, offering you support and comfort as you started to feel weaker. A way of saying: “It’s okay, let go if you have to, I’ve got you.” 

A sob escaped Newt’s chapped lips as he looked at you. Your eyes slowly turning hazier by the minute. “It’s okay,” you whispered, your fingers gliding over his cheek, savoring the moment you fully got your best friend back.  He shook his head. None of this would ever be okay. He would never be okay.

As your knees slowly gave out, Newt’s hand slowly carried your body to the ground. Minho and Tomas’ expression turned from happiness to disbelief and utter sadness as they watched your weakening body fighting for a couple more moments. “It’s not your fault okay.” Your voice spoke softly.

Newt shook his head. It was his fault. This was all his fault, and now he’d have to live with the fact that he killed not only his best friend but the best friend of his brothers as well. “Newt,” Thomas started, laying a hand on his shoulder but Newt was quick to shake it off.

From that moment, things started getting really hazey for you and quickly you drifted off into an endless sleep you wouldn’t wake up from.

Newt cried and shouted and shook your body to no avail. Your breathing slowed down and before he had time to process what was happening, you passed in his arms.

Eventually the crying lessened and all that was left was silence. Silence in the chaos. The warmth of your body started to fade as Newt laid his head on your chest, trying to hold onto every piece of you. Anything he could to savor your touch, your essence, for he knew that was the only thing he’d have of you for the rest of his days.

Newt remembered that moment, as he carved your name into the big stone on the beach at the Safe Haven. The peaceful sound of the waves on the shore offered comfort and the stability of a home they’d only ever dreamed of. Supported by both his brothers on either side of him he looked out at the horizon you so desperately wanted to see again but never got to.

He’d brought you home finally.

[vinylgomez]

the way i wear my noose like a necklace

WARNINGS: death, ptsd, heartbreak, insecurity, loneliness, domestic abuse (verbally/emotionally & physically), car accident, self harm, mentions of suicide, intrusive thoughts, depression, anxiety, trust issues, guns (kinda), implied dissociation, sad ending, also she forgets to feed the dog

seriously, do NOT ignore the warnings if you are easily triggered

Pairings: Fuuka Yamagishi x Minato Arisato/Makoto Yuki

Summary: 10 years after the events of Persona 3, Fuuka is still having trouble dealing with her trauma. She blames herself for her boyfriend Minato’s death and is still processing everything that happened with S.E.E.S but also in her home. Meanwhile everyone else, even Junpei, seem to be okay, Fuuka is on the path of self-destruction. [AU]

Word Count: 1,509

A/N: before you read, please note that this is in no way belittling abuse survivors, the only reason it might seem like that at some parts is because it’s from fuuka’s point of view and she doesn’t believe that she deserves better. this is not meant to make it seem like minato cured her either, so i’m sorry if it comes off that way!! also the writing is amateur but i’m just here to vent.

this is an alternate universe of the game persona 3 from 2006 developed and released by atlus (massive spoilers so don’t read unless you’ve finished the game!!), none of the characters are mine.

it’s been 10 years since her hero had sacrificed himself to save the world, and she was forever grateful

and fuuka actually thought she was getting better for a while

but most nights ends with her curling up in a ball sobbing silently to herself in her bed

recalling the way she was the reason for his first smile in months

and the way he used to look at her like she’s the reason the world keeps spinning

she thinks about the way she had always been insecure about their relationship

because really, who in their right mind would choose her over someone like mitsuru kirijo or yukari takeba?

but he was so patient, understanding and sweet. every time she voiced her concerns he just smiled faintly

“i will always choose you” he had whispered, resting his palm on her cheek

he was the quiet type, but whenever he did speak, it was always something important

it always made her feel better

but then he had died in another girl’s arms

and it just so happened to be the girl who always had a close connection to him

and everyone knew about it

i'm not the right match for him, i never was

doesn’t trauma cause you to lose your memory?

then why did she remember those moments so clearly?

almost as if it was the present

like when they all ran up the stairs leading to the rooftop

and the way he looked so peaceful

almost as if he was only sleeping

she remembered the sinking feeling in her stomach when she realized what was happening, her throat tightening, and the way it felt like time slowed down as she fell to the ground, wailing. this can’t be happening

at this point, she had lost count of the amount of times she had wished her evoker could be used as a real gun, just so she could put herself out of her misery.

over the years, she had slowly lost contact with her former teammates, because she kept herself isolated in her stupid room in her stupid apartment, afraid somebody would notice the scars on her wrists or the way her whole body flinched at the faintest sounds.

koromaru had stayed at her place for a while

but then yukari had visited

they were only supposed to have a cup of coffee

but really the girl came to check up on her friend

and she had noticed how thin the dog was getting, and how pale fuuka was

“fuuka-chan, are you sure you’re okay?”, her voice cracking

fuuka had tried to reassure her worried friend that she was just fine

but of course, yukari wasn’t stupid, and had seen right through her lie

weeks later, koro no longer lived with her, now he was with akihiko.

because fuuka had apparently forgotten to feed him.

but she didn’t understand it, she was sure she had filled his bowl everyday

was her mind playing tricks on her?

and to make matters more complicated, yukari kept recommending therapists

she knew she needed to talk to professionals, and she had tried. but really, how can they help? they can’t time travel, and the anti-depressants had never seemed to help her feel any better. she was a lost cause, too far gone.

yukari was the s.e.e.s member who had tried the hardest to help, but eventually she had given up as well. fuuka couldn’t say she was surprised, it’s not like she was ever going to escape the destructive lifestyle she was trapped in. she was grateful for her friends, but she stopped feeling understood a long time ago.

sometimes she felt like she was losing her mind completely. the trauma of everything that had happened when she was only 16 haunted her everyday.

why can’t I just be like the others? at least they’re functioning like normal human beings.

but minato had been the best thing that ever happened to her

and some nights, she can’t escape the guilt. the guilt of so selfishly wishing it had happened to somebody else. does that make her a terrible person? no, she tells herself. but her mind tells her otherwise. her disordered mind always makes matters worse for her.

“it’s your fault. it’ll always be your fault, you could’ve stopped him. and look at you now, it’s been a decade and you’re still crying. how pathetic. you’re a failure, fuuka.”

every time she thought of that horrible day, her head would repeat those words over and over again. isn’t grief supposed to have five stages? she knew that much, but for some reason, she seemed to be stuck in the worst one. she screams into her pillow, hoping something would make all the pain go away. but who was she kidding, this was a routine.

or a cycle, a never-ending cycle of pain that was far worse than anything she could’ve ever imagined before it had happened.

it was worse than being lost in tartarus surrounded by dangerous shadows.

it was worse than how her father would hit her and call her a disappointment when she refused to become a doctor.

and it was certainly worse than having to accept the fact that her parents didn’t look for her when she went missing for 10 days.

“why can’t you just be like other girls, fuuka? why do you have to be so special? what’s so interesting about that damn computer? you think hacking will get you anywhere in life? grow the hell up and get a proper job! think about your mother and i, and how humiliating it is for us to have a daughter like you.” her father would shout, while her mother sighed and looked the other way as he threatened their daughter, saying that he would disown her if she “didn’t get her shit together”.

those days always ended with her upper arm covered in bruises, tears streaming down her red cheeks as she fell asleep wishing she was somebody else.

she knew it was sad, tragic actually, that she would go right back into her abusive household in a heartbeat if it meant that he would come back to life.

but the thing is that at least she had a safe place back then. it was him, no, it’s not like in those cliché love stories where the boy saves the princess from all of her problems. it wasn’t like that at all, but she had him to talk to about anything, he always listened so well.

and whenever she was around him it felt like nothing was wrong with the world.

like when he first kissed her, she had never felt so safe.

pressing a shaking finger to her lips, she smiled faintly at the memory.

but it only lasted for a moment.

“he’s gone and he’s never going to come back. you’ll be alone forever, fuuka.”

now she had nowhere to go, no one would truly understand her

she had once thought that maybe junpei would understand, he had lost chidori in a similar way

and he had lost his best friend, too

but then she realized she didn’t know how to talk to him anymore

and there was no way she could tell him everything

not to mention, she wouldn’t want to upset him. he deserved better than having to deal with her shit too

all the bad memories replayed in her head. like a nightmare.

or a horror movie that constantly rewinds and plays the scariest parts over and over again

she thought about her fathers words, and she knew he was right.

but he had died in a car crash a few years back, and she no longer had contact with the woman who used to be her mother.

so she couldn’t tell them that they were right about her all along.

not that she would’ve given them the satisfaction, anyway.

maybe if he had just killed me when he wanted to, they could’ve had another daughter, or a son, who would’ve been picture perfect. and they would’ve been happy.

once she gets up and slumps towards the bathroom, she knows it’s just another messy night that proves how weak she is.

fumbling through the cabinets, she retrieves what she was looking for.

she's not crying anymore, everything feels slow and distorted, as if time had stopped passing and nothing was real.

dragging the razor blade across her skin, tears start to flow again. watching the blood drip to the floor, she can’t stop telling herself that she deserves everything bad that has ever happened to her.

she smiles.

[elfroot-and-stars]

In This Moment (MShenko)

              Commander Shepard put his hands over his ears.

              The ringing didn’t stop.

              He lowered his arms, wincing at the movement. Injury. He needed to…to…he was hurt, he had to…

              His thoughts were muddled, and the ringing didn’t help his concentration. He tried to stand, but his legs wouldn’t cooperate, and he found himself lying on his stomach a moment later.

              A thick cloud of dust made it hard to see where he was. He should know this. Where was he? What had he been doing?

              He tried to focus, to think back to what had happened. His head ached, and there were pains all over his body.

              He heard a muffled noise and opened his eyes, unaware he’d even shut them. He looked up, the room spinning a little as he did. He shut his eyes again, slowly reopening them and feeling relieved as the world stayed still this time.

              His vision sharpened a little as he focused on the shape in front of him. Kaidan came into view, his face urgent and concerned. His mouth was moving, but his words couldn’t pierce the ringing in the Commander’s ears.

              Shepard tried to get up again, but Kaidan held him down. He took out medi-gel and began applying it to Shepard.

              As some of his pain started to ease, Shepard looked back out towards the dust. He could see figures moving- Garrus and EDI? Yes, he could definitely make out the shape of Garrus. But there were too many moving figures for it to be just them in the room. It was making his head spin again.

              A figure emerged from the cloud of dust, gun pointed at the Commander. Shepard tried to get to his feet, but his legs still weren’t cooperating, and his words wouldn’t seem to come out to warn Kaidan.

              But Kaidan was already shooting at the figure, and Shepard could finally make out that it was a Cerberus operative. They fell to the ground, unmoving.

              Kaidan knelt back down in front of Shepard, lips moving but words too muffled to make out. He carefully lifted Shepard to his feet, and Shepard winced at the pain in his back.

              The world was spinning again, and Shepard staggered. Kaidan kept a careful hold of him, dragging Shepard and his useless legs along.

              Explosion.

              It came back to his mind so fast he nearly fell again in surprise. Kaidan stumbled but managed to keep Shepard upright, pulling him along, his muffled voice yelling out something that Shepard couldn’t make out.

              Yes, he’d gone ahead of his crew, and there’d been an explosion. That explained the ringing in his ears and the pain.

              Kaidan sat Shepard down, propping him up against something sturdy. He peeked out from their current cover and Shepard assumed he was shooting at something.

              Shepard looked down at himself, realizing there was blood staining his hands and his uniform. He tried to grab his gun, but Kaidan pushed his hand away and shook his head firmly. He held up his own gun, squeezed Shepard’s shoulder, and went back to shooting over their cover.

              Shepard opened his eyes as he felt someone shaking his shoulder, wishing he’d stop failing to notice he’d even closed them. Kaidan’s lips were moving, but Shepard still couldn’t make out the words. He felt tired and sluggish, but he knew they needed to move. He tried to get up, tried to grab his gun and lead his crew.

              Kaidan caught Shepard’s arms, shaking his head. He lifted Shepard to his feet, and Garrus hurried over to support Shepard’s other side. EDI was crouching by a panel, but she got up and joined them as they pulled Shepard along.

              He was so tired. But he couldn’t sleep, not now. They were on a mission, and they needed their Commander. Maybe he was injured and disoriented, but he had to pull himself together and be a leader.

              But as he struggled to move his legs, he felt his body giving out on him again. He tried to force himself to keep going, keep moving, keep leading.

              But this time, he was aware of his eyes closing.

                                                                                         ***

              “Feeling better, Commander?” Kaidan asked.

              “Much better,” Shepard said, starting to get out of the medbay bed.

              Kaidan put a hand on his chest and pushed him back down. “Uh, maybe not that much better. You’re not cleared to go yet. Don’t get stubborn.”

              “Cerberus planted bombs in that facility to destroy evidence. We don’t have time to waste, Kaidan,” Shepard argued.

              “Yes, we do, actually. EDI managed to download some information before they tried to blow you and the facility up, and she’s piecing it together now. You have time to rest,” Kaidan said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “John, listen, I’m…sorry. We should’ve been more cautious.”

              “I chose to go on ahead while you searched their files,” Shepard reminded.

              “When we realized the place was rigged with bombs, I tried to get you out of there before they went off,” Kaidan said, looking away from Shepard. “I’d just reached the room when the explosion went off.”

              Shepard reached out and placed his hand over Kaidan’s. “You got me out of there.”

              “Barely,” Kaidan said, turning his hand so that they could lock fingers. “When we realized there were bombs, I just ran for you. All I could think about was the Normandy being destroyed. That moment when Joker told us you hadn’t made it to the escape pod. I couldn’t go through that again. I couldn’t lose you again. And then I saw you lying there, and I didn’t know until I reached you.”

              “Kaidan,” Shepard said, and refused to say another word until Kaidan finally met his eyes a moment later. “I’m fine. I was giving the orders back there. I put myself in a dangerous position, and you got me out alive. We both live to fight another day.”

              “I pull your ass out of the fire and you’re ready to jump back in.” Kaidan let out a small laugh and shook his head. “Sometimes it’s hard to tell if I want to kiss you or smack you.”

              “Try the first one and see where that leads?” Shepard offered.

              Sound advice that Kaidan took. He pulled Shepard close, kissing him and savoring every moment of it. He knew they lived dangerous lives. They were soldiers; he’d accepted there might be a mission they didn’t return from.

              But losing Shepard back then had been the most painful experience of his life. He’d never told Shepard how he felt.

              Now, though?

              Now he’d told Shepard. And Shepard had returned those feelings. Now losing Shepard was something Kaidan didn’t know if he could recover from.

              “I’m glad you’re okay, John,” Kaidan said, and just hugged Shepard against himself. Every moment of these little intimacies was precious.

              Shepard held Kaidan back. Shepard went toe-to-toe with death so often he never lingered on the close calls long. But seeing Kaidan stressing over it reminded him how lucky he was to be alive, and to have people who’d do anything to protect him.

              They released each other and Kaidan let go of Shepard’s hand, standing up. “I should go get the doctor. Let her know you’re getting restless.”

              “If you leave, who will force me not to get up?” Shepard said.

              Kaidan narrowed his eyes. “You’re not a child. No one should have to force you.”

              “No, I’m not a child. Meaning I can look after myself,” Shepard said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed to get up.

              Kaidan pushed him back onto the bed, heaving a sigh. “You’re insufferable.”

              “Hey, you’re the one who saved me,” Shepard said.

              “Even if I hadn’t, you’re obviously too stubborn to die,” Kaidan said, sitting back on the bed. “Fine, I’m staying, I’m staying. But only if you promise not to overdo it until you’re cleared. EDI will let us know when she has something, but you can’t shoot off into the next mission until we know you’re okay.”

              Shepard didn’t bother making a promise he couldn’t keep. The fate of the galaxy was at stake, and his headache was just going to have to suck that up and keep going.

              Kaidan slumped his shoulders in reluctant acceptance of Shepard’s stubborn sense of duty. He reached out, cupping Shepard’s cheek in his hand and lightly tracing his thumb over Shepard’s skin.

              “I’m glad you’re here to be stubborn,” he said. “Asshole.”

              Shepard reached up, curing his hand around Kaidan’s wrist just to have contact. “I had help.”          

              They stayed like that, comfortable silence falling between them. There was nothing more to say. Another tragedy of war narrowly avoided, another day they got to just sit together and take a little time to remember how lucky they were for these small moments.

              And when EDI reported that she’d found something, Kaidan didn’t complain about Shepard’s willingness to jump right back into danger. He just helped him out of the bed. He couldn’t change Shepard, wouldn’t want to. He could just watch Shepard’s back and make sure he made it through the next mission.

              Still, they stopped before leaving the medbay, taking a moment to hold hands one last time before their next mission.

(I’m so sorry I suck at writing these two, consider this practice! You can find more of my work on AO3 here!) 

[truthbeetoldmedia]

iZombie 5x11 "Bye, Zombies" Review

It feels like I’ve been waiting for this episode the entire series, in more ways than one. Buckle in, there is so much to discuss!

The episode opens with Liv tending to all the Freylich brain kids at the headquarters, and she gives a quick rundown of events via voiceover. I wish this narrative device was used more consistently this season. I have a love-hate relationship with voiceover, I think it can often tip into cheesy and unnecessary. On iZombie, however, the use of voiceover was crucial in the early seasons. If Liv is on a different brain every week, her personality and character development can get lost in the mix. Her voiceover bookended the episodes and was a good way to touch base with her, and to make sure the audience still had access to inside her head. Liv sums up the events that have happened thus far, and how stressful things have been. But her hope remains in the cure; it’s the only thing they have to look forward to. 

This hope becomes complicated fairly quickly. Liv walks in on an upset Ravi, who tells her that the CDC has decided to use the uptiopium for treatments, rather than a cure. Charlie has been kicked off the project, and it’s been moved to a high security building. Ravi points out there’s more money in treatments than cures, and the CDC doesn’t actually have any interest in being helpful to the suffering people of New Seattle. It’s a good call back to Ravi’s fraught relationship with his old employer, the CDC. He was fired for taking biological warfare too seriously, and it seems he finds himself back at square one with them. He and Liv decide the only thing to do now is to pull off an Oceans 11-esque heist. Obviously the only answer! They gather with Clive, Peyton, and Major to tell them the plan. If I’ve said it once, I’ll say it again, this show is always at its strongest when it trusts its five main players to drive the story, and let them drive it together. Getting the entire gang involved is part of what made this episode so great. 

It turns out there can be advantages to being zombies — they don’t actually have to learn any heist skills overnight, they can just consume them. They order a ninja and acrobat from Don E (who is in a really foul mood due to Darcy’s death) and Clive thinks of some old petty criminals he knew back in the day. At first, Clive doesn’t plan on going with them. He gives an emotional goodbye to Liv and Ravi, including hugs, and maybe there were a few tears involved. But Bozzio tells him to get his butt out there, and to save the world for their daughter. “You’re the Clooney,” she reminds him. How are they going to pull this off without him? Clive finally steps through the closet of the Renegade quarters, and it’s one of my favorite moments of the whole series. Everything is coming together for one last adventure, and it was an immensely satisfying scene. 

In order to get the pickpocket brain Clive recommended, Major and Liv dig up his grave together. It’s difficult to write this scene objectively, without taking into account the uproar in the Veronica Mars fandom this week. A shocking twist at the end of the new revival season regarding the show’s main couple has left many fans feeling betrayed, confused, and frustrated. Rob Thomas, the showrunner for both Veronica Mars and iZombie, has expressed multiple times that he’s not interested in writing main female characters with boyfriends or writing couples with happily-ever-afters. He didn’t see a way that he could incorporate hard-hitting detective stories and a healthy romance into the same show. 

I have only seen a few episodes of Veronica Mars, but I’ve seen every episode of iZombie, and several things about this show now make sense. I now understand why all of Liv’s boyfriends have been killed off and then never mentioned again. I now understand why when Clive and Bozzio finally got together, Bozzio got pregnant and practically dropped off the face of the earth. It makes me wonder if romance between Ravi and Liv was never explored because the showrunner believed it meant he had to eventually axe one of them, and didn’t want to do that. And most of all, it makes sense why Liv and Major haven’t had any significant progress in their relationship in several seasons. 

Rob Thomas has basically admitted that he doesn’t know how to successfully juggle murder and love on his shows, and he has no interest in finding out. So the timing for this Major and Liv scene is terrible, in more ways than one. Not only do I wish I could have enjoyed it without the baggage of another show hanging over it, but I really think it should have happened sooner in the series. Regardless, now we know why it didn’t. 

The scene itself is actually incredibly sweet. “I’m really glad we’re at this place in our relationship,” Major says. “We can dig up graves without having to talk.” The two of them reminisce on their relationship over the entire series — from how they used to be engaged to wed in a pre-zombie world, to how they’ve both done things that hurt the other, and how they’ve wound up here. “We’ve both done a lot of well-intentioned crap to each other. But here we are, still here,” Major says. He gives her a heartfelt pep talk, telling her that he believes she’s the only one that can pull this off. And pull this off, she must. The fate of the world depends on it. Not only is this a commentary on their deep friendship, but also on who they are as characters. They both have gone through immense changes throughout the series, but it feels like the core of who they are is still there. Major and Liv are both good people, with a capital G. A war-torn, zombie world has tried to change that, but it never succeeded. I’m forever grateful for this show for giving me these two. Major tells Liv she’s a badass, and she kisses him, right in the middle of the grave. Within the world of iZombie, it felt true to the show, and something I’ve been waiting on for so long! 

It means, however, that I’m incredibly worried about Major’s life. The tension between humans and zombies is finally at a breaking point. His Fillmore Grave squad tells him that zombies are riding in the streets, provoking humans and wanting to start a war. Major takes a team out to hopefully quell the riots. “They want to start a war, let’s not give them the satisfaction,” he says. He and his team ride out, but while Major is giving orders, a huge explosion hits their van. My heart skipped a bit, because I really thought Major might have been taken out in this moment. He crawls out of the van, bleeding and confused. Enzo rolls up in a Fillmore Graves van, and the final stand that we always knew was coming finally happened. Enzo convinces all of Major’s men to betray him, leaving Major standing alone. Fillmore Graves has never believed in Major, never totally committed to him as a leader. I’ve never felt the show built a convincing argument as to why Chase Graves inspired so many more followers than Major and that Major was a bad leader. Major has tried to keep the peace in New Seattle for as long as he’s been in charge, but his zombies are out for brains. He escapes by the skin of his teeth, and Enzo goes on TV letting everyone know that he’s the new sheriff in town, and humans had better hide. Dolly and her people watch from their fish food truck, and she gives the go ahead to retaliate and recruit. 

Meanwhile, Blaine discovers that Ravi has stolen his Freylich brains. He tells his smuggler that if he sees Ravi, shoot to kill. This season has really doubled down on Blaine being evil, with no interest in redeeming him. This episode sees him doing some truly unforgivable acts. While Liv is gone, she asks Peyton to housesit at the Renegade quarters. Because Blaine is the worst, he and Don E “follow Ravi’s favorite thing” to lead them to where the Freylich brain kids are hiding out. He and Don E muscle themselves in, and Peyton emotionally begs Blaine to leave them alone. It’s hard not to imagine a season that had gone all in as Blaine as the Big Bad of the entire series. If they had whittled down on nuclear threats and off-shoot human supremacist gangs, and beefed up even more on Blaine’s goal of taking control of New Seattle, I wonder if the season would have been stronger. Thankfully, the show did cut back on forcing real world political parallels that it didn’t have the range for, as I was afraid it would be the main focus of the season, but I think a centered focus on Blaine would have made everything much more focused. This scene, for example, was absolutely terrifying. Both Aly Michalka’s emotional performance and David Anders cold brutality elevated the tension in this moment, and left the fate of both Peyton and the Freylich brain kids in the balance. I’m holding out hope that this will be the moment that our dark horse player, Don E, will emerge as an unlikely hero of this series, but we are going to have to wait until the finale to find out. 

In Atlanta, Clive, Liv, and Ravi actually pull off the heist. Despite Liv on pickpocket brain having the stickiest fingers ever, Ravi being incredibly unpleasant on Russian hacker brain, and Clive getting momentarily distracted by busting some serious moves on the dance floor, they manage to hit their mark, Gladys from HR. For the second half of the heist, Liv and Ravi switch to the ninja and acrobat brains, and sneak into the high security building. Clive saunters passed a guard that thinks all black people look the same, and helps Charlie smuggle in too. For a moment, it seems like the CDC has caught on to our heroes. Saxon rushes in and opens the vault to make sure the uptiopium was still there. Unfortunately for him, he fell right into their trap. Liv points a gun at Saxon and smugly tells him they knew they wouldn’t be able to get into the vault, so they tipped him off so he could do it for them. Saxon tries to bargain with Ravi, and to apologize for how the CDC has treated him, but Ravi is done standing by. No one knows better than Ravi the importance of this cure. Not only is he a man of science, he’s watched his loved ones deal with the zombie virus for several years. He’s had a front row seat to Liv and Major’s trials and watched Peyton buckle under the pressure of being New Seattle’s mayor. He watched Isobel pass away, and then when he tried to avenge her by ethically pursuing a cure, he kept losing to Blaine and the CDC. Well, not anymore. After five seasons of setbacks, there’s no way Ravi’s going to let go of the cure that easily. Ravi rages out. He knocks out Saxon, and Liv grabs the uptiopium. There’s just one more piece they needed for the cure — the Max Rager from Fillmore Graves. Liv calls Major, and he reassures her not to worry about it. When the camera cuts to him, we see him hiding out in the waterfront, injured and alone. 

There is a lot of things to wrap up next week, but I thought this penultimate episode was exciting, character-driven, and showcased elements of the show that made me love it so much. Next week, I’ll see you back in New Seattle, for one final time. 

Stray Thoughts: 

“You’re not that great with boyfriends, are you?” Don E tells Liv, which is the first time all season anyone has mentioned that Liv’s boyfriends have short lifespans on this show. 

“His hair makes me so angry!” 

Clive mentions that if Liv eats the pickpocket brain, to “get ready for visions of me rockin’ a mustache” and I’m so mad the show didn’t make good on this promise. 

“What are you going to do without me?” Liv asks Clive, pointing out that she’s no use as a police partner without her visions. What’s their relationship going to look like when Liv is no longer a zombie?

Peyton tells Liv that she’s probably going to marry Ravi. Pavi forever. 

“We are in the south now, you don’t put stolen jewelry in a black man’s pocket.” I squeaked at this line! Between the racist janitor and this line, Clive was really coming for Atlanta in this episode. 

I thought it was a hilarious gag to have someone remember Ravi from his CDC days, even if it was a one night stand that didn’t really reflect well on his character

Haley’s episode rating: 🐝🐝🐝🐝.5

The series finale of iZombie airs Thursday, August 1 at 9/8c on the CW.