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starryluce · 2 years ago

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Level one

Eddie Munson x reader

(No specific pronouns are used but Eddie does refer to reader as the hellfire princess)

summary- After Sinclair bails on another DND game, Mike and Dustin bring in the reader who has never played DND (desperate times call for desperate measures). Usually news like this would upset Eddie and cause him to just delay the game, but he thinks he can make an exception but only for you of course.

warnings- grammar errors

words- 1k

Mike and Dustin knew you weren't the ideal player for DND, you've never played in your life but the poor boys were desperate to find a sub for Sinclair. And they knew Eddie wouldn't take too long to warm up to you even if he would be annoyed that they sent the most inexperienced player they could ever find.

"Y/N L/N?" Eddie questioned, surprised to see you in a school you haven't attended in over a year. Let alone the Hellfire Club room.

"Hi Eddie" you smiled at him, a genuine smile, a smile Eddie rarely receives.

"Y/N is going to sub in for Sinclair" Dustin blurted, Eddie moves his head to his side as a confused German shepherd would.

"You play DND?" Eddie asked, biting his lip. "I do as of today," you responded, Eddie, sighs at your words.

"Eddie look are other option was Sinclair's little sister!" Mike defended himself and Dustin, Eddie just shakes his head. "I would be an idiot to not want to introduce DND to the new hellfire princess," Eddie stated, "Take a seat, princess" Eddie suggested, pulling out the chair seated right next to him.

"But that's where I si-"

"Not anymore" Eddie stated, glaring at his bandmate. "Now let's work on making your character," Eddies said, pulling out a bunch of papers which you assume are character sheets.

"Can I be a half-elf?" you asked him, with those eyes that Eddie found to be the prettiest in all the kingdoms. "You can be whatever you like," Eddie responded, words falling out like a man in love.

The other members of hellfire all gave each other weird stares at Eddie's behavior. Eddie for one hated new players, he thought it was a waste of time teaching them the ropes and helping set up a character. Mike even remembers when some poor kid tried to join hellfire with no experience, and Eddie stressed the kid out so much they didn't even get done making his character. But with you, Eddie seemed to not mind at all. In fact, the boy seemed ecstatic to help you figure out your character.

After about thirty minutes your character was all set up, you may be a level one half-elf, but Eddie spoke like you were going to defeat every bad guy you came across. Saying shit like "With this skill, you're gonna make them sorry they were ever born".

---

"Congratulation Princess you defeated Vecna on your first round" Eddie bowed, as you smiled at him.

"Excuse me we all won," Mike snapped "And y/n barely did anything" Mike added on. "Keep it up Mike and you'll get kicked out of hellfire," Eddie snapped back, staring daggers into Mike's eyes. "Anyways I suggest you move up to level 3," Eddie stated, the entire group in shock because they couldn't even remember the last time Eddie suggested any of them level up.

"Anyways all of you out!" Eddie exclaimed, Mike and Dustin were out the door first, you not too far behind. "except you, you stay" Eddie said, pulling you back into the room, while everyone else went out the door.

"Don't listen to Mike you did a good job those losers couldn't have done it without you," You smiled at Eddie's words. "I'm not sure about that," you responded, Eddie just shook his head at you.

"You know Chemistry really sucks know that you're not my lab partner," he admitted, looking down at the floor. "Shouldn't have failed it," you teased him, but the joke made him frown. "I'm sorry Eddie, I didn't mean t-" you started but got interrupted by Eddie. "No, it's okay,"

"I've just missed you, a lot. I know we were never that close and it's probably weirding you out that I th-"

"I've missed you too, Eds" You confessed, putting your arms around his neck to pull him into a hug. Eddies arms went around your waist instantly. It may have been just a regular hug but Eddie felt like he was about to pass out due to excitement.

You were the first to pull away, Eddie's hand still lingered on your waist. "Uh, would you want to join Hellfire? Like officially?" he asked, he was subconsciously giving you his puppy dog eyes. "Yeah, I'd like that a lot actually" you answered, Eddie's hands left your waist and he did a little dance of excitement, saying yes a bunch of times. His little dance caused you to giggle, Eddie looking over at you. "Oh, your gonna laugh at me now… I invite you to my exclusive club and you laugh at me?" he teased, making you giggle more. "Oh ill give you a better reason to laugh," you stopped your laughter, trying to grab Eddie's hand before they attack your sides.

"EDDIE!" you yelled, uncontrollably giggling due to him ticking you. "Pl- please" you begged him, his fingertips showing no mercy. "Please what princess?" he taunted, god he loved the sound of your laughter. "S- st- stop" you were barely able to get it out. Eddies hands finally pulled away from you. Eddie was now the one laughing at you, "Not funny Eddie," you pouted, Eddie stopped laughing and put his hands up in defense.

Eddie's hands went to grab his backpack and put it on the table, digging threw it he pulled out one of a Hellfire Club Shirts (that was surprisingly neatly folded in his bag). "For you m'lady, I hope you can forgive me," he said, handing you the t-shirt and the bowing.

"I think I can forgive you under one condition," you teased him

"Oh yeah and what may that be," he responded

"You take me out for dinner and a movie, this Friday at 6" you suggested to him, trying to sound as confident as possible even though your heart was beating out of your chest. Eddie was feeling a similar way shocked that you asked him out, was it a date? he hopes it's a date.

"Who would I be if I didn't treat the princess of hellfire to dinner and a movie?" he asked

"A pretty lousy dungeons master," you joked, Eddie, smiled at your teasing.

"Well we couldn't have that, would we? Imagine what that would do to my totally great reputation," you both laughed at his comment.

"So it's a date?"

"It's a date."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson/reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie stranger things

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pedropascalunofficial · 4 years ago

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Pedro Pascal and Lena Headey

Head to head interview

Hunger Magazine, Issue 6. Released December 28, 2014. Photoshoot October 15, 2013.

Thirteen million. That's the number of people, on average, who tuned into each episode of the third season of Game of Thrones. Among them was Chilean actor Pedro Pascal, who was as enthralled by the sex and slaughter as the rest of us. But little did he know that within a few months he'd be pitching up on the shores of Belfast to join the cast as Oberyn Martell, affectionately known as the Red Viper. Sound ominous? It is. The Red Viper is GoTs newest anti-hero, “sexy and charming but driven by hate”. Sounds like he'll be right at home.

Pedro, on the other hand, though he looks good on paper, wasn't the obvious choice for the role. Expecting a big name to ride into King’s Landing, the show's fans took to forums to express their concerns as soon as the news broke. So is he worried? Like hell he is. “The fans had the part cast in their minds already. They knew who they wanted and it certainly was not me. But I'm not stupid, | presumed that people were going to say ‘who the fuck is this guy’. Since I anticipated the reaction it didn't throw me off.”

“There are so many different ways to go into battle with yourself when you're trying to get a job. I felt a certain amount of pressure because I wanted to make everyone happy. The fan base is so specific and, as a fan myself, I understand the relationship that they have with the show. The Red Viper is the best part I've ever played, and in season four shocks come at the most unexpected times. You might think you know, but you have no idea,” he explains.

Looks like the Red Viper could be in line to fill a Walter-White-sized-hole in television, but to test the theory we pit Pascal against Lena Headey, aka the Queen. Because if you can come away from Cersei unscathed, you can handle anything.

LH: So, Pedro, you come into Game of Thrones in season four, playing a pretty major character. Does that fill you with joy or dread?

PP: I'd say it fills me with joy because it’s a really fucking fun part. He’s a badass. He comes up against a lot of the main characters in the show. I'm very aware of the show. I watch it like a fan.

LH: Were you a fan before you arrived in Belfast?

PP: Yeah, I was a proper fan. I was caught up in the drama of it before I even auditioned for the part. I was already up to speed.

LH: I remember meeting you and thinking, “he fucking loves the show’.

PP: I kissed your ass.

LH: Well, it worked. We're friends now.

PP: I was like a tourist visiting the set, and yet I had to act with you and be in a scene with the characters that I had such a specific association with already.

LH: So you’re saying it’s boring?

PP: No, it wasn’t boring at all. It was extremely, relentlessly surreal.

LH: And who were your favourite characters up until that point?

PP: Not you.

LH: I realise that!

PP: There are too many characters to have a favourite, but I was fascinated by the Lannisters because they're so frightening. They scared me and then you would come in and pull sympathy from your audience somehow, and I found that rather fascinating. The Northerners were so easy to like or get behind, but it was quite something to see people sympathise with a Lannister, after you made people see things from their perspective.

LH: Speaking of being slightly ambiguous as a character, you come in as a major player and a very well-loved character in the eyes of people who read the books, and he’s somewhat of an anti-hero. Did you base him on anyone?

PP: What does an anti-hero mean exactly?

LH: It means he doesn't wear deodorant, doesn't it? [Laughs]. Someone you shouldn't champion, but you do, like Walter White in Breaking Bad.

PP: No, | didn’t really base him on anyone.

LH: Did you take anything from classic movies that you thought you could use and spin to your advantage playing the Red Viper?

PP: God, that’s a good question. I probably did subconsciously. Now I feel under the spotlight because I need to think of somebody, and I have so many in my mind! I think that’s something that is happening a lot in TV today: the anti-heroes are central to these television shows, and people are really getting behind them, even though they're not necessarily the most moral characters. So I'd say that ‘ve become more familiar with the character who's obviously very flawed but gets you on their side — you have complicated feelings about them. But I think I saw the story too much from this character's perspective to perceive any flaws.

LH: He has some.

PP: I know, from the outside. But I don't see any of them. What are his flaws?

LH: His flaws? He's a dirty bastard!

PP: Why is he a dirty bastard? He likes to fucking fight, for sure.

LH: Back to you as an actor. You've done it for a long time and, as we all know, the path is not always golden, and sometimes you think, “fuck it” and you want to leave it and do something else. Have there been moments where you wanted to give up?

PP: Yes, there have been moments where I came very close to giving up. But I never had anything to fall back on. I think you can understand that.

LH: Because were stupid?

PP: We're stupid.

LH: I can't even make pizza!

PP: We don’t have any other skills.

LH: None at all!

PP: And that’s the odd conundrum. You get to a point where you think, “This isn’t going to happen. This isn’t sustainable. I'm too exhausted, and it can't be good for me.” There were moments where I truly did try to formulate an idea of what I'd do. I thought I'd go back to school, start pre-med again and go to medical school or something like that.

LH: But that didn't happen, you just thought about it?

PP: Yes, I'd have thoughts, but it was still fantasy really. But at the time it felt like a practical life plan. Do you know what I mean?

LH: Yeah of course, you need to pay the fucking rent.

PP: Exactly. You just try to escape from the chaos of what you're feeling by trying to create order in your life. Order seems like a solution to save you from the pain of acting!

LH: It's a mental pain. Who was the first person you called when you got the role?

PP: My sister.

LH: Does she watch the show?

PP: Yes, she does.

LH: Pedro Pascal... or Pablo as I called you when I had too much wine, which was deeply insulting.

PP: Even family members have done that to me! Do I look more like a Pablo? Because it happens with about ninety-five percent of the people I meet.

LH: No, I think I’m just an ignorant drunk person.

PP: No, you were an ignorant drunk person that night is what you're saying.

LH: And now I’m educated.

PP: [Whispers] But | want you to call me Pablo.

LH: Ok, Pablo! When you first arrived on set in Northern Ireland, what was your feeling showing up to a bunch of British actors? Did it feel different to doing an American project?

PP: Yes, but I loved it. It wasn’t intimidating. I found it surreal because I’d watched and loved the show. I hadn't had the opportunity to work on something that I was really familiar with before, so it was overwhelming. But it was far more delightful than intimidating. Also you guys were really cool. Everyone was friendly.

LH: Oh, that’s just fake.

PP: Well, you guys were good at it!

LH: We know Game of Thrones is very popular obviously. Do you have any thoughts, or fears, about what this is going to bring you in terms of exposure?

PP: I have hope.

LH: Oh, God. I don’t mean to shatter that, but give it up.

PP: I don’t know really. It’s all been filmed, and now I'm back to my normal routine, so I haven't really thought about it. I remember when we finished filming and we were on our way to the airport, you asked me, “How does it feel you're all done?” and I couldn't really answer.

LH: You were quite emotional that day.

PP: I was very emotional because I’d had such an amazing time doing the part. Also just being there immersed in the experience... You described it to me best. You told me how I'd be feeling.

LH: We don't know your character's backstory when you enter the show, and you have some rather brutal scenes. Anyone who has read the books will know what I’m talking about.

PP: My character comes in, he stirs a bunch of shit up, and then he makes this fucking enormous exit. Now can | ask you a question?

LH: What is it? I’m not going to sleep with you. Give it up.

PP: Oh, come on! This has gone to shit and it’s your fault, so good luck to whoever has to edit it! But anyway, sometimes I'd hang out with the cast members and we'd go to dinner and they would get stopped constantly. There was no denying who they played because they were so recognisable, but you got away with it because you have this beautiful blonde wig on in the show, and in real life you are...

LH: Grey?

PP: {Laughs] No! You have beautiful chestnut hair! Is it liberating to not be recognised the way some of the other cast members are?

LH: Yes, it is liberating.

PP: Liberating being able to walk down an alley in Dubrovnik without being stopped?

LH: Yes, except sometimes | get recognised in the weirdest places. A woman was emptying my bag at Heathrow Airport's security gates and just went, “Are you the Queen?” while rummaging through my underwear. It was so fucking weird.

PP: It seems they're more respectful to you?

LH: Because they're frightened. Wait until they meet the Viper.

PP: Well, that covers it.

LH: I think we're going to get our own show out of this, you know

youtube

Interested in learning more about Pedro? Check out Pedro Pascal Unofficial on Pinterest!

#pedro pascal #lena headey #hunger magazine #shot October 2013 #published December 2014 #game of thrones #queen cersei #prince oberyn #oberyn #oberyn martell #hunger tv

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graniairish · 4 years ago

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Walking on Eggshells – Part 3

so here is the 3rd part. maybe some more will follow ...

Part one Part two

Daryl had woken up before dawn. He had always been an early riser and, like you, always one of the first to greet the new day.

You yourself were only half asleep. Immediately you noticed when he began to move as he slowly left the dream world.

With his right arm still around you, he pulled you tight. At some point during the night you had turned your back to him and now he was spooning you from behind.

In his arms you always felt so safe and secure, as if nothing could happen to you in these moments.

"Mornin'", you heard his deep voice, which was still very rough from sleep.

"Good Morning."

Daryl snuggled up close to you and you had to laugh lightly, because his stubble tickled your neck when he kissed you there - still sleepy.

Only you knew this side of him. For everyone out there he was the fearless redneck who hardly spoke more than two sentences to anyone; the loner who should not be messed with.

Only you knew the gentle and loving man who kept looking for your physical closeness; the passionate lover who never seemed to get enough of you.

"Have any plans for today?"

"I'll take care of the chicken coop with Jake and Josh."

"Jake and Josh," Daryl asked confused.

He raised his head and looked at you questioningly.

"Yes. The two have experience in construction. I already spoke to them yesterday."

"Who are Jake and Josh?"

“They're from Woodbury. You know them."

"Don't know who ya're talkin’ about," Daryl said, still trying to remember them.

“Jake and Josh, the two brothers. Big, black hair, tattoos on the upper arms …"

"The two who look like bouncers?"

“Yes, exactly this two. Together we will try to build a beautiful new home for our chickens."

"If ya want."

With these words, Daryl pressed a longing kiss on your shoulder before he broke away from you and slowly left the bed.

You first stretched yourself with relish before you turned around and watched your boyfriend get dressed. A warm feeling spread in your body at the thought that this man was your man, that this man wanted to be your man. You were so incredibly happy. You would never trade Daryl for anything or anyone in the world.

When he approached you and leaned over - his hands propped up on the left and right of your head - you were still lying in bed dreaming.

He had to go, after all, his shift on the Guard Tower soon began.

"See ya in the fields then", he said with a smirk.

“Unfortunately, you have to do without me today. Rick and I want to look for a location for our chicken coop first thing today."

"Ya're breakin’ my heart," he whispered as he gave you a gentle kiss on the lips, longingly and so full of love.

"I'm sure you will survive," you smirked.

---------------------------------------------

Contrary to your usual practice, you had helped Carol prepare breakfast that morning while you waited for Rick. Typically, you would always start your days in the gardens to get much of the work done before the sun got too stinging and made the job difficult.

But today you were only there for a short time, had brought the chickens there for the time being. You wanted them to take care of the pests that are currently making life difficult for your plants - hopeful that they would not attack the freshly set lettuce plants.

It was unusual for the residents of the prison to be woken up so early in the morning by the screams of their newest roommate. It was not to be underestimated how loud this little feathered guy could be. The young rooster, however, was not deterred by the confused looks and kept crowing while he watched his girls who happily scratched the ground.

People would get used to it sooner or later, you were sure of that. Apart from the fact that the poultry's permanent residence in your community was not up for discussion anyway.

These animals would ensure your survival and were essential to building a secure future. And your hope was anyway that it would not be the only livestock that would populate your little farm in the future.

Even if some ex-Woodbury residents were not exactly happy about their boisterous and loud alarm clock. First and foremost Michelle, who made a rather pinched impression when she showed up in the canteen that morning.

She had avoided you since the incident during your run. You were actually very happy about it, only the look with which she was looking at you gave an idea of how much she displeased you.

But you did not have time to think about it that day, after all, a big construction project was waiting for you, and by the time you and Rick went to inspect the site, you had long since forgotten about the blonde woman.

-------------------------------------------

If there was one thing that was not lacking in the Prisons office complex, it was pens and paper. Whoever took care of the administration here before the apocalypse broke out was a real hamster.

So it was easy for you to organize the necessary material to start drawing the plans right away. After all, organizing such a building project was easier with a blueprint than without one.

The place was chosen, now all that was missing was the plan and the necessary building materials.

The plan was your responsibility, and the men would get the necessary building materials.

Rick, Jake and Josh were already gathering everything necessary to start construction as quickly as possible.

You approached the matter with a lot of patience, trying not to forget anything that could be important, while line by line you put your new chicken coop on the paper. There was a lot to think about.

The stable had to be built on stilts so that the ground did not start to rot at some point if it was constantly standing in the damp earth, and still be stable. Inside there had to be enough space for cleared nests and perches, and the stable had to be easy to clean, after all, it had to be mucked out regularly.

Concentrated you sat over the plans and tried to consider everything, that you had lost all sense of time.

"Ya even know what ya're doin’?"

You were just thinking about a possible extension - should the chicken population grow faster than you thought - and had not noticed that Daryl had approached.

"Believe it or not ..." you began absently, but you did not get very far.

"But yar mother taught ya how to build a chicken coop when ya were a child," said Daryl with a cheeky grin on his face.

“Smart ass!” You said curtly, without even looking up from your work.

But then suddenly you stopped. Thoughtfully, you looked up at your boyfriend and thought for a moment.

"Was that just a déjà vu?"

You looked questioningly at Daryl, who was still standing next to you, grinning. By now he had leaned over your blueprint, resting his left arm on the table while he placed his other arm lovingly between your shoulder blades.

"No seriously. Who taught ya that. Looks really professional."

Silently you looked at the drawing in front of you again. A painful tightness spread in your chest, making it difficult for you to breathe. You had not thought of him in a long time, you hardly had time to longingly mourn the past.

But here and now the grief suddenly and unprepared attacked you.

"Jeff," you whispered with a sad smile.

"Your brother?"

"Yes," you nodded.

Slowly your gaze changed, was no longer thoughtful and dreamy, and Daryl noticed that you were getting sadder from moment to moment. He knew about your brother, after all, you had mentioned him repeatedly before.

Everyone had those times when they thought of loved ones who they probably would never see again.

Back at Hershel's farm one night you had told Daryl about Jeff and how close you had been as children. And with tears in your eyes you had talked about what had probably happened to him when the dead began to walk over this world.

If he had known in which direction this conversation was going, he would never have started it.

“As children we always built tree houses,” you finally began, still smiling sadly, “once we even tried a trapper's hut. After all, it survived a winter. He was great at that; then he even studied architecture. Did I tell you that? Immediately after graduating, he took a job in Denver, where he met his great love. And then the offer came from New York. He and Valerie had only just moved when ... "

You had to take a shivering breath. Since the beginning of this apocalypse, you had not heard from him. And the likelihood that he was still alive was almost zero.

"’m sorry … shouldn't have asked."

It hurt Daryl to watch as you tried to bravely swallow your tears. He had not intended to reopen the wound the loss of your family had left. During your story, he sat down next to you on the bench and was now lovingly stroking your back.

"You do not have to be sorry. It's nice to think of him again. Even when it hurts."

"Don't think he would have loved me that much," Daryl laughed bitterly.

“Oh believe me, Daryl, he would have liked you,” you said with a smile, before you couldn't help but grin, “at least before you tried to get into his little sister's panties. Then he would probably have fed you to the next best walker."

"Would have been worth the risk”, Daryl whispered as he gave you a gentle kiss on your temple.

You looked lovingly at the man next to you. You were so grateful to have him by your side. He was your little island of bliss in this sea of horror. Even the painful memory of your brother only hurt half as much when he was with you.

"How is the planning for the new home of our chickens going?" Asked Carol as he sat down at your table with Judith.

"Quite well. The only question that remains is whether we want to make it winterproof or do we want to take the chickens into our buildings in winter. We currently have enough space."

You instantly found your coolness again; were calm and collected like nothing had happened.

Since so many people joined your community, you tried to keep your feelings to yourself more. And with a few exceptions, there was only one person inside the prison fences who also knew your vulnerable side. Who knew every aspect of your personality, every dark abyss of your soul, and loved every single one of it.

Daryl.

"I don't have a lot of experience with it," admitted Carol, "but I suppose these animals are not very frost-proof."

“Not really,” you smiled, “so we should give them nice winter quarters within the walls. Just to be sure."

"But one with enough space, hopefully we'll soon have a lot of chicks," Daryl said mischievously.

"So I don't need to add scrambled eggs to the menu anytime soon," said Carol with a shrug.

"Not for the time being. Sorry."

------------------------------------------

Daryl was leaning on a shovel at the construction site of the new chicken coop. He had just dug the last hole in the ground, in which one of the wooden posts would soon find its place – to form the basic structure of this building.

With a certain amount of pride, he watched you take on the construction supervision of this project with seemingly effortless ease. You organized the individual construction phases cleverly and nimbly, so that even experienced construction workers like Jake and Josh could be guided by you.

You were ready to listen to every single suggestion and weigh the pros and cons without losing sight of the goal.

Daryl was fascinated by this new facet about you, he had never noticed it before.

Here and now you seemed like a born leader. You could guide and be helpful, but at the same time you could be strict and get your way through when it was necessary. You also knew how to handle hammer and nails, how to perfectly level a construction site - and you were absolutely not afraid to lend a hand yourself.

It was obvious that this was not your first construction project to be implemented. Every single one of your movements was safe and you did not hesitate for a moment if help was needed anywhere.

Little by little, on that day, a chicken coop was actually built on the now leveled lawn, with four walls, a roof and a small access bridge for the little animals, whose coop stood on almost 15-inch-high stilts.

Inside you had perches installed and separate niches in which hopefully the next generation would soon be hatched.

"And now," Rick finally wanted to know as he stood next to you, exhausted.

"Now we need some straw so that the girls can make themselves really comfortable in there. And then they can actually move in."

"I'll get the straw," said Daryl, turning around and going on to tackle the easier part of the move.

He knew only too well how difficult it was to catch these damned beasts, and now he was not going to make a fool of himself in front of everyone.

"Then I'll probably take care of the poultry," sighed Rick.

"Do you need help," you asked with a knowing smile.

"No, I think I can handle that."

"If you think so."

Less than five minutes later, you were hunched over with laughter. It was so funny watching Rick as he tried to catch the chickens. Two Woodbury residents wanted to help him but had even less chance of getting within three feet of the poultry.

It was an incredibly funny spectacle, especially when Rick was lying on his stomach in the dirt at some point, and one of the chickens quickly jumped over his back to finally - with a loud cackling - run away.

"Do you think they need help," said Maggie, who meanwhile had to wipe away her tears from laughing.

"If we want to bring the chickens into the barn today, then we have to," you laughed, "but I haven't had such a good time for a long time."

For two more minutes you and your best friend watched the show in front of you, until you finally felt sorry and stepped in to help.

Still giggling, you shook your head, took the bowl with the grains that you used as chicken feed and walked slowly towards the frightened creatures, while Maggie slowly approached from the other side to get any outliers back on the right track.

You shook the bowl in your hand noisily as you walked through the gardens.

"Tuck tuck tuck," you started calling the chickens while you kept shaking the bowl.

It was not long before the animals began to watch you curiously. When they finally approached you - hoping perhaps to get some food - you made your way back to the chicken coop; without stopping to attract the poultry further.

Maggie followed a few yards away to make sure none of the chickens disappeared.

Finally, you stopped in front of the open stall door and sprinkled feed in the stall and on the step bridge for the chickens.

It took less than five minutes and all the animals, including the rooster, were safely stowed in the hen house, ready for the first night in their new home.

"Couldn't you have done that right from the start," said Rick, a little annoyed, as he brushed the dust off his clothes.

The embarrassed grin on his face betrayed that he was not angry at all, but rather was busy trying to keep himself from laughing at himself.

"If we had," replied Maggie, "that would have been only half as fun."

"Yea, Haha, it was so funny." Rick said sarcastically.

“Oh yes, believe me Rick, it was. It definitely was."

“For the future, Rick; ya should never mess with farmer-girls”, grinned Daryl, who of course did not miss the whole spectacle.

------------------------------------------

It was late, just after sunset. You had made yourself comfortable on your bed and were absorbed in that old western novel that you had found in the library of the prison. You had been a veritable bookworm even before the Apocalypse, and now that there was another opportunity to indulge in this hobby, nothing and no one could stop you.

In the soft glow of the kerosene lamp your eyes wandered over the lines on the already slightly yellowed pages, while blissful silence enveloped you. Your day had been busy, and your muscles felt sore after the unfamiliar work.

You would spend the first half of the night alone today. Daryl had taken Rick's shift at the Guard Tower after Judith was weep today and just did not want to let her father go. Apart from the fact that Rick had been more than exhausted after today's chicken adventure.

But Daryl was happy to take over his shift immediately. He just had a weakness for this lil asskicker - as he affectionately called her. One day this stubborn redneck would become a wonderful father. You had known that for a long time, even if he still doubted it.

> KNOCK KNOCK <

"Yes," you looked up from your book, confused.

Actually, you didn't expect any more visitors. The door opened slowly, and Maggie stuck her head through the gap with a smile.

"Hey Y/N/N, am I bothering you?"

“No, not really. Why?"

"Where's Daryl?"

"Guard Tower. He's taken on Rick's shift."

"How long will he be gone?"

“His shift has just started. Why are you asking Maggie?"

"So we have time for a girls-night!"

"Think so?"

"Perfect, I also brought gifts."

Hardly a moment later the young woman was on your bed with you, her legs crossed, while she grinned mischievously at you. It took a few moments before you noticed the cloth sack in her hand.

"Please tell me that you don't plan to take out your nail polish and make-up now. I don't think I'm in the mood for it."

“No, don't get silly. No nail polish, no make-up, and we're not going to do each other's hair. This is going to be more of a grown-up version of a girls-night. "

"Okay Maggie, just for the record, you scare me."

Jokingly, she gave you a clap on the shoulder before opening the sack in her lap and looking inside happily.

"Well, first of all, something that every woman can use nowadays."

And with that she got a cardboard box about 4x2 inches out of the sack.

"May the days be less of a problem during the days," said Maggie, handing you the box.

Confused, you looked at the thing in your hand. It looked almost new and the writing was easy to read.

When you finally understood what you were holding in your hand, you looked in amazement at the woman in front of you.

“This is a lady cup. Where did you find that?"

You could hardly hide your astonishment. You had not seen anything like this in years, and not only once did you wish you had not left yours at home.

“This Amazon warehouse was a real treasure trove. Not just in terms of the preserving jars. "

“So that,” you held up the little box, “will make all this menstrual shit a lot easier during an apocalypse. Slowly the tampons became really scarce. And I was so afraid that sooner or later I would have to do the thing with free bleeding too. However, I don't think I would be able to do that with my daily routine."

"You can say that again. Mine is already safely tucked away in my cell."

“It's interesting how the priorities change when the world suddenly ends,” you philosophized while looking at the little box in your hand from all sides.

"You're right."

"I think if the world weren't so close to the edge, I wouldn't be where I am now," you said thoughtfully.

"Are you talking about Daryl and you?"

"No … yes … somehow ... yes. Daryl and I would probably never have met. We would never have gotten together. And to be honest, I don't like this idea."

“Even if that sounds pathetic now, but you and Daryl, you two are meant for each other. I think you would have run into each other either way. I can well imagine that you two would have happened one way or another."

“You have to say something like that, Maggie, you are my best friend. But thanks anyway. And as for you and Glenn ..."

"Oh that was just sex," laughed Maggie.

“And sex became love,” you smiled conspiratorially, “and don't even try to deny it. Any blind person can see how much you love your Korean boy."

“I don't mean to deny anything. But at least it wasn't as much of a drama with Glenn and me as it was with the two of you."

"What are you talking about?”

With mock insult, you cross your arms in front of your body.

“Oh come on, Y/N/N, that was really like a soap opera. You have no idea how desperate we all were because the two of you couldn't handle it."

“Yeah, thank you, don't remind me. With the amount of tears I've shed because of him, this whole prison could be flooded. I'm just glad that Michelle leaves me alone now."

"And I thought you'd be glad you and Daryl are a couple now," Maggie replied mischievously.

"You are so stupid sometimes," you laughed and playfully pelted your friend with your pillow, "of course I am. Very much."

"I know what you mean. She was so after you. That was really no longer normal. She felt like a high school bully to me."

"Yes, thank you. Please don't remind me. I'm just glad she stopped chasing after Daryl."

"That doesn't surprise me at all," said Maggie with a shrug.

"Why?"

"Wait a minute, you don't know?"

"What shall I know?"

"Daryl gave this woman hell."

You stared at Maggie in disbelief, eyes wide and mouth wide in shock.

"He has what? When? Where? Why? How?"

“You were still in the infirmary. Daryl was more or less busy moving. He partly overheard a conversation, "began Maggie meekly, and you noticed how uncomfortable the whole thing was for her, "that was really not intended, honestly. But he heard Carol and I ... well, we talked about how we actually blame Michelle for it - that you almost died. Especially after she scolded you for so long. Though I would have liked to have punched her earlier because of that, just like Carol."

"And how did Daryl react to that," you asked nervously.

"Well, first he confronted us, and then he snapped into protection mode."

"Oh shit."

"Yes. He then went to Michelle and confronted her ... although he didn't even really let her have a say. The woman got the lecture of her life. I'm actually surprised that you didn't hear Daryl in the infirmary, the way he screamed."

“Wow, I know what it is like when Daryl freaks out. I'm almost sorry for the woman."

"Seriously? That woman messed you up for weeks and now you feel sorry for her? I think she deserves what she got."

“I said: I'm ALMOST sorry for her, not that I feel sorry for her. That's a difference Maggs."

“Well, whatever. In any case, that was the last day that Michelle got close to Daryl."

You tried to hold back a grin as you looked at Maggie through your eyelashes.

"Does that sound bad when I tell you that I even enjoy the fact that she has disappeared from our periphery."

“No, it doesn't. I understand that. And I am so glad that you two are finally happy together."

Your friend hugged you lovingly.

"Thanks."

“Where we are on that subject right now. I still have something for you. Or rather for both of you. So that you can have fun without a guilty conscience."

And with that she reached into her cloth sack again and took out another box. Larger than the previous one, and two more that looked like toothpaste wrappers.

You looked at your best friend questioningly.

"Read", she just said and held out the larger box to you, "read."

Confused, you took it from her and began to read. After the first few words your eyes widened, and you stared at Maggie in shock; your mouth opened wide. Hardly a moment later you grabbed one of the other packages and read the label.

"Oh my God. How? Where?"

"As I said, this Amazon warehouse was a real treasure trove."

"Amazon sold something like that?"

"Seems so."

"Oh my fucking god", you shouted a little louder and still couldn't believe what you were holding in your hand.

"Yes, I think you will soon call that more often in these four walls."

Instantly you froze and looked at Maggie in silence and wide-eyed. Hardly three seconds later you both started to laugh loudly, as if on command. You just could not believe what this woman had brought you from that run.

A bloody condom was nowhere to be found within a radius of no idea how many miles. But Maggie had somehow managed to find a diaphragm with the corresponding spermicide gel in this huge hall complex of a former mail order company.

"Do you think the stuff still works," you said thoughtfully after a while.

“According to the expiration date, it should work for at least another year. I don't think it'll take you more than a year to use it up, though,” Maggie said mischievously.

"I don't even know what to say."

"Thanks would be a good start."

"Thanks. I mean that honestly."

"No problem."

"Please don't get me wrong, it's not that Daryl and I aren't having fun, but ..."

"But sex brings a certain closeness that you can hardly achieve in any other way," Maggie completed your train of thought.

"Yes."

"To be honest, I have to show you both my respect."

"Why?"

"Well, living so close together, being together without ever really having sex ... I don't think Glenn and I would manage that. No matter how good he is at the thing down there."

“Well on that point I can't really complain. But thank you for this gift. I really appreciate it."

"You're wellcome."

“Normally I would say I'll think of you when I use it. But in this case …."

"Oh my god please don't."

And with that, both of you laughing, continued to dedicate yourselves to your girls-night.

Maggie and you were just having a great time about how Rick had tried his hand at catching chickens today. It had been a divine spectacle. The two of you had not been able to laugh at something like that for a long time - as you did today at Rick - who at some point lay face down on the floor while the chicken ran nimbly over him.

“Am I botherin’ ya?” You heard Daryl's deep voice at some point.

You and Maggie were surprised to see the redneck standing in the doorway.

"You're back," you asked in amazement, your cheeks still reddened from laughing.

"Yes? Why shouldn't I?"

"Oh god, what time is it," Maggie wanted to know.

"A little after midnight," Daryl replied in surprise.

Neither of you expected that. The time had passed by, and neither of you had noticed how late it was.

“Oh my god, I have to go back. It's a miracle that Glenn hasn't sent a search party yet."

Still laughing, Maggie gathered up her things and quickly made her way back to the cell block, but not without yelling "see you tomorrow".

"Did you have fun?"

"Obviously."

"Was this a kind of girls-night or somethin’?" Daryl asked while he took off his crossbow and put it in its place.

"Yes, something like that."

"Like > painting each other's nails < and so?"

You could hear the sarcasm in his voice and punished the man across from you with a slightly annoyed look.

"Seriously?"

"Yea."

"No. No nail polish, no makeup. And before you ask, we didn't do each other's hair either."

"No, just laughed at Rick tryin’ to catch the chickens today."

A smile tugged on Daryl's lips as he thought of that afternoon's show.

"Oh come on, that was really funny. And you laughed yourself. Don't think I didn't see that."

"The poor man was pretty exhausted after the whole story."

"Yes, but he didn't want my help ... at least initially. I just hope Judith lets him sleep tonight."

"Well, otherwise we have to expect a grumpy Rick tomorrow."

"Unthinkable!"

Theatrically you held your head and fell back on the bed, on which you were still sitting.

"Actually, I didn't expect to find ya awake," Daryl finally said as he took off his jeans.

“Wasn't planned that way either. But Maggs and I kind of lost track of time."

"Typical girls."

"Newsflash smart ass: I'm a girl."

"Already noticed."

Slowly you realized how tired and exhausted you actually were. You stretched yourself with relish, and some of your joints cracked before you relaxed and snuggled into your pillow.

"Tired?"

"Yes, very."

"That's what happens when ya're up all night instead of sleepin’."

"Oh shut up and come here," you said, just slightly annoyed.

"Yes ma'am."

Hardly a moment later you felt the mattress next to you dipping in due to its weight. He put his left arm to the side to make room for you. As if on cue, you snuggled up close to him and nestled your head in the little hollow between his neck and his shoulder.

Daryl put his arm around you. He lovingly began to draw patterns on your back with his fingertips. A feeling of absolute happiness flooded you as you just enjoyed being close to him. The tender caresses on your back relaxed you more and more, and you already noticed how you were slowly falling asleep.

"I'm proud of ya," you heard Daryl whisper.

His rough voice made his chest vibrate under you.

"Why?" You asked, already slightly sleeping.

“Ya did a great job today with the chicken coop. I'm really proud of ya," Daryl muttered before giving you a long kiss on the top of the head, "and Jeff would be too."

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl imagines #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon fluff #daryl x reader #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon x you

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barcaavengers · 4 years ago

Text

Complete Safe Haven||Newt Imagine

Note: I'm not that proud of this since I edited it about 6 times. I feel like it lacks something I can't really tell what it is, but here it is! Will definitely write a part two so we will see how everyone responds to it. I was listening to "That Would Be Enough" from Hamilton cause I think it tells a bit how Newt could be somewhat hesitant of the idea of having a baby after everything he has gone through and how unsure he can be of himself, you know? I don't know, that song inspired me a bit. Also, struggled a lot to think how the Safe Haven would be like after two years of them moving there so yep. Feedback and ideas are encouraged! <3

Tag: Tagging those who liked my posts that I was writing it since I said a few weeks ago it was going to be up and totally didn’t. @late-to-the-fandom-party @loverofmazeandthrones @gaymistakeboi @enixgucci @the-panwitch @expectroyalpurple @thepotatoes-havefallen @queenkitten695 @lovefelps @kurtzyoufunkylittledruggyprimary @smallsleepywriter @haiykuuia @sskeletonsoffun @thiccheerioss @demiwitchavenger7 @infinite-piper @sungjungelf @hanniejji @solovehasblindedyou @sleepysnapesnake @little-odd-dude @washing-machine-headcannons

The soft waves going against your body so early in the morning was your favorite feeling ever since you have gotten to the Safe Haven. The waves would just make you forget what had happened, cleared your head from any memory that was too painful, and those were mostly of that night. You still had nightmares, watching him turn into a Crank, his attacks, him hurting you unconsciously...You were lucky that things ended the way they did, but even then, you knew that those memories would always get to you. Arms rest on your shoulders making you jump, but relax under the knowing touch, rubbing your shoulder blades soothingly and you smile. "Hey."

"Morning, love" Newt's voice was still groggy, you guessed it hasn't been long since he woke up. "Why aren't you in bed?" He presses a kiss on your shoulder before his hands land on your waist, the soft waves rocking you both slightly.

"You kicked me out" you say playfully as you turn to him.

"What a terrible boyfriend I am," he says with a chuckle. "When was the last time you slept properly?"

It has been about two years since you have moved to the Safe Haven. The island was now covered in construction, buildings, and houses. Yesterday it was your four year anniversary, and Newt had planned a beautiful evening in what you were proud to call your new house, "First night home" he called it. After living in a small hut that reminded you of the Glade, now you had a bigger house, all for the two of you. You have been looking into The Last City, or what used to be, after Jorge took you and others back a few months ago, and you had the chance to gather a few technology items in a somewhat black market set in the city. The immunes that survived had built a city within the city, but no sign of what Wicked once was. You had seen people losing themselves to the Flare, so you started to play around with the idea of a cure again, using Thomas' blood and trying to figure out what made his blood different, without human trials and finding a way to help without draining him from his blood. You managed to do it with Newt. Vitals were missed when he attacked Thomas' back at the Last City and the serum was administered when he woke up on your way to this place. You took the serum and mixed it with some of Thomas' blood and applied a second dose, that one seemed to have done it. Unfortunately there wasn't enough serum for everyone back there and you had to find a way.

"I can't say" you admit with a smirk. "I need to keep working…" you say as he removes a strand of hair from your face.

"You look pale every morning, love" he points out.

"Maybe the late nights I'm working" but you knew better than that. Newt hasn't noticed, but you have been having morning sickness more often and feeling dizzy.

"Take a break" he kisses your forehead. "We have our new home, we have to enjoy it" he says and you smile. You had a slight idea of what could be going, but instead of raising hopes, you rather wait to get things confirmed.

Vince had brought a doctor who was the one to help you around the idea of a cure, as well as helped you learn a few things about medicine. She agreed to run a few tests while Newt was out with Thomas, Gally and Minho as they went to check an area for tonight to set a bonfire like back at the Glade, just a close group of friends, you have refused when they asked you to go and went to get the results at the medical hut instead.

"Hey" you greet the doctor after walking into the tent.

"Y/N," she greets as she turns around. "Couldn't wait I see?" She teases.

"I have barely slept" you admit with a nervous smirk. "Between this and thinking of ways to make the cure…"

"You shouldn't lose sleep over this" Elena, the doctor, says as she lifts a piece of paper causing your heartbeat to increase.

"Oh God…" you mutter.

"You ready?" She asks as she walks towards you and you nod. "You might not know much about medicine and all this, but you were right" she hands you the piece of paper, your eyes widening. "Congratulations."

For a moment every sound goes silent, it felt like everything around you stopped and so many feelings rushed in. How were you supposed to feel? How would Newt react? "I-"

Elena reaches you and places a hand on your shoulder, "Everything alright?"

"I don't know…" you say. "I never really thought about it...I mean, I did but now that it happened…"

"You are scared" she says and you nod your head slowly. "Don't be" she assures you. "If what you are scared of is Newt's reaction, I think he will be shocked at first, but he will grow to the idea of it. He loves you."

"I can't even think of a way to tell him…" you admit. "What about this place? I don't think it's completely baby proof."

"No place is baby proof. Certainly not during these times" she points out. "Doesn't mean everyone will stop having babies. You will have everyone's support I'm that sure. We will look into ways to get what you need as everything goes" somehow her words made your whole body relax.

You were away from Wicked, away from the Flare it seemed, but you never trusted that. The Flare could travel through air according to Ava, and Wicked could easily find you if they get as determined as they were, if there was anyone left that would go with such crazy trials. It didn't appear so, the times you have been into the Standing City you have not heard a word from Wicked or possible takers in the tasks. Everyone who survived the attack was just trying to get their lives before the Flare decided their faith, and any immune would just mind their business. Would there be anyone crazy enough to bring back what Wicked once was? Or something worse? Your mind was spinning around the idea. You didn't want your kid to be taken away and used for crazy experiments and trials, you knew that much. Not that you wouldn't do anything in your power to keep them safe from anything that happened.

You have gone back to your new house and went to lay back on the hammock to try to keep all your feelings in check and find a way to tell Newt the news. Will he be happy? Will he have the same thoughts of bringing a baby to the Safe Haven was a bad timing right now? It wasn't planned, but it wasn't not planned either. It was going to happen eventually. You two were careful, but after some time you two stopped, knowing the consequences but did it anyway. Was it maybe that you both have wanted this but never talked about it with the other? You knew you wanted a life with Newt, wanted everything with him, but what about him? Kids were not something you two have talked about before, because you two were now growing into the relationship and taking bigger steps, like the new house he had built up along with the guys for the two of you.

"Hey, love" Newt calls as he walks in and you turn around from your hammock.

"Hey" he leans in and you peck his lips once you sit up. "How was it?"

"Well, it's not the Glade," Newt says as he stares off blankly. "but it's big enough for a group of us. I don't think many people would get going in the middle of nowhere and set a bonfire and get drunk...or fight Gally" he chuckles and you join him.

"The latter is the one people won't get" you say and lean against him, your heart beating wildly as you thought of telling him.

"Probably" he says and wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close. "I mean, getting wasted is kind of a thing to go for that one. I don't think that anyone right upstairs would fight Gally, except you when you kicked his ass" he adds. "I'm betting on you to do it again in front of everyone," he smirks.

"That was a good day" you agree and smirk. "Don't think I'll have the same luck now" he takes your hand and kisses your knuckles.

"Let's go get ready for tonight" he says and kisses your forehead before pulling you by your hand.

When you arrive at the bonfire, you see that even if not many have come, it was enough to make you remember your times at the Glade and you feel a knot growing on your throat, eyes watering. You remembered Chuck, Winston and Alby. Newt side eyes you and pulls you close, "I'm okay" you assure him.

"You don't have to be" he throws an arm around your shoulder and kisses the side of your temple. "I know what it feels like," he knew that this was giving you major flashbacks. "They wouldn't want us moping around though, so let's go have some fun" he takes your hand and makes you spin after he pulls away and you giggle, he pulls you close to him again and join the others.

Newt was with the boys while you sat with Harriet, Sonya and Brenda. They knew about your tests, so that was the topic.

"So? What did they say?" Sonya asks as she leans in.

"I bet it is what I said. Come on, I can't be the only one who thought about it as soon as she said how she was feeling" Brenda says with her hand extended to you.

"I don't know if I should tell you" you tease as you grin. "Or just say it at the bonfire...at some point" you say and look back at Newt who gives you a wink, making your cheeks flush.

"Oh come on, you are gonna make us wait?" Harriet says with a pout. "Please?" Her hand extends and you sigh, pulling out the piece of paper that read the results. You were carrying them around hoping to know when the time would be right.

The girls gather around Harriet, all of them smiling which only makes you grin wider when their eyes widen and the three look at you in cue. "Oh my God!" Sonya squeals before moving to you and hugging you.

"Just keep it a secret for a few, I haven't told him yet," you say and she pulls away.

"Right. Of course. Newt should be the first to know anyway" Sonya says as she pushes her hair back and tries to act normal. "I'm so happy for you guys! It's like everything starts getting normal around here."

"Life wise anyway" Brenda says as she looks at you. "How do you plan on telling him?"

"I'm not sure…" you admit. "but I have to do it soon. Gally is going to bring his moonshine any minute now and I can't find an excuse to neglect it" you point out and just in cue Gally walks to the clearing.

"Leave that up to me" Brenda says as she stands up and pats your shoulder before walking towards the boy. You eye her curiously and you smile at how nice Gally was around Brenda, not like he wasn't nice with the others, but he smiled and laughed quite often. Brenda puts her hand on his shoulder and you look at Sonya and Harriet.

"We are as clueless as you are" Harriet says and you laugh.

Time goes by and you are all eating and laughing. The groups have gotten together and now you were all closer to the bonfire. Gally was around handing over his moonshine and Brenda helped. After everyone had their drink, Brenda spoke, "I know we have done our own bonfires before," she begins, "but this one is different for some of us. To some this is a reminder of how we bonded" she looks at you and you look at Newt who smiles. "For others, it's a reminder that no matter what, we have fun with the people closest to us, our new family" she raises her glass. "For our family" she says and her eyes widen at you and you shake your head before you feel Sonya's hand shoving you slightly, so you stand, holding your own moonshine.

"For our family," your knees feel like giving up on you from how nervous you felt. "For the one that we found..." you trail off. Your heart was beating wildly against your chest, hearing the thuds in your ear. "And for the ones on the way" you say and place a hand on your stomach, your eyes glued to Newt whose eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Then, there was silence for a few seconds.

"No way!" Frypan is the first to get it, a huge smile on his lips, Minho eyes him like if he was crazy.

"Am I missing something here? Secret conversation?" You eye the girls and they are laughing at how clueless the boys were after Minho's words.

"Dude, come on! Y/N is going to have a baby!" Frypan pushes Minho before his smile fades for a moment and looks at you. "At least that's what I took as a hint…?"

You laugh nervously and you eye Newt whose mind seems to be lost in the maze, everyone is looking at you waiting for the confirmation. "Newt, we…" your words feel jumbled up, "You are going to be a dad" you say and everyone starts cheering around. Newt's eyes go wide open as he processes the information, everyone is patting his back and congratulating him but he was motionless. They come to you as well, and even if you are smiling and saying thanks, your eyes were glued to your boyfriend.

Everyone started to drink and cheer, except Newt who was looking down at his drink, your mood was slowly dropping, but you found some courage to walk to him after a few minutes. "You alright?" You ask as you sit next to him against a log.

Your voice breaks him out of his trance and he looks at you before nodding his head, "Yeah, just... wrapping my head around what you just said…"

"I know it's a lot to get around with...I still don't believe it…" you say.

"I should be more excited...and I am, trust me...but I can't help but think…"

"Newt, I know we never-"

"It's not that" he shakes his head and looks at you. "Not the slightest. I might not have said it, but after everything started to settle down, I started to think about us...our future" he says and takes your hand in his. "I thought so many things and you were always there, but…"

"But?" You were expecting the worst.

"Y/N, I don't have anything to offer to you, or the baby," you frown as you watch him play with your fingers. "Not now, anyway. This place is being built from scraps.."

"Newt, I don't know what you mean by that…" your free hand goes up to his hair, running your fingers through it.

"We have a home now, but... We are still getting used to this place, we don't have all the supplies, the equipment…"

"We do this as it goes, like Thomas does" you say to make him smile, which he chuckles at.

"I know" he continues to play with your fingers avoiding your gaze. You could tell he wasn’t at all convinced, so you tighten your fingers around his.

"Hey," you call. "Talk to me…" You try to meet his gaze, but it was dropped to your fingers.

"I-" he pauses. "I am happy, I don't want you to think I am not" he finally meets your eyes. "Having everything with you...Just makes this place way better" he smiles. "And having a little girl just like you" he cups your face with one hand and kisses your lips. "Who else can say they survived what we have and have a family" he says playfully and you grin. "But bringing our baby to this...place, this world…" he confesses, his fingers running nervously on his lips.

"Newt, I know…" you assure him.

"I don't want them to go through what we did, Y/N…" he admits. "I don't want them to live in a world where they could be chased for being healthy, or feel cursed because they are not immune to the Flare like I was."

"I'm just as scared and I will work on a cure now more than ever...but we can't start worrying like this…" you take his hand and place it on your stomach. "We will figure it out like we always do, together" he is looking at your stomach, his concerned features softening.

You can see his body relaxing, his thumb moving soothingly on its place on your stomach. "There is a little boy or girl growing right there and it's ours…"

"I know you'll do anything for them…" you assure him. You felt like Newt had to be reassured, and you could understand where he came from. He has overcome so much to get where he is now, from the dark places of his mind to what was now his new life. He was doubting himself, to not being able to provide your baby with the best, but what was that here in the Safe Haven? The simplest thing you had them already. You were all healthy, you had a home, food, friends...You still had time to get used to the idea and get adjusted at the thought that soon it was going to be more than just the two of you.

The Safe Haven has provided you with everything you needed for a basic life, and every now and then as you went to the remains of the city you tried to bring something that would help. Jorge and Brenda were working with technology along with some of the other Gladers from other groups. It was true, this place was being brought up by remains of what once was the Last City, but it was getting close to what you once imagined it would turn to.

"I love you, princess…" he pulls you in and gives you a kiss, the type he holds his breath and let's go of it softly through his nostrils, making it last. "I'm sorry for not acting like you probably wanted me to…"

"I get it. It's a lot to take in. I feel the same way" you admit. "I was so scared of what you would say" you pause. "But we have gone through so many things together that I don't think a baby will be the exception" you voice.

"It scares me to death to be quite honest" he says with a smirk. "I'm trying my best to be optimistic here, I am" he paused. "I'm happy to start a family with you, but just the thought of what could happen… This place is not ready for a baby…"

"I know...but we have time. We will know…" he is staring at you lovingly, smiling.

"Congratulations!" Thomas joins you with Frypan, sitting right besides you.

"Took you long enough" Minho says as he steps in.

In the deepest part of your head, you were somewhat disappointed that the boys seemed to be more excited about it then Newt. Yes, the blonde was scared of the what ifs and the possibilities and so were you, yet something told you that he wasn't very wrapped around the idea of it and his mind was only repeating the bad scenarios.

"Shut up, Minho" Newt says, but the boy only grins.

"I am going to have a little helping hand in the kitchen in a few months" Fry says.

"I could use the help patrolling" Thomas and Vince have established a guard in the island. Not like much happened, you knew everyone and they all went by the rules set, but it gave you the sense of feeling that if anything were to happen, you'd be ready.

"You are all doing bloody plans without the baby even being born" Newt says.

"Don't look at me I haven't said anything," Minho says. "It'd be nice if it has Y/N's genes though. No offense."

"Well that baby wasn't done just by me, Minho, so be ready" you say playfully.

"I don't need to know the whole thing so if you can skip the lesson" Minho says.

"Newt, you alright?" Thomas calls out and you look behind you at your boyfriend.

"Yeah, just, thinking…" you frown. "Just give me some time, that's all" he admits and smiles, placing his hand on your belly and looms up at you, something told you he will grow to the idea of it soon.

"So Y/N, can't drink with us now, so let's drink for her" Minho raises his cup and Fry cheers, shoving Newt playfully.

"To our baby, I guess" he says with a shrug.

"Our?" Minho questions.

"Not ours you slinthead" Newt reaches to try to smack the back of Minho's head playfully. "Ours" he looks down at you and you smile softly.

"It's the baby from our Glade anyway" Thomas says. "I'm happy for the two of you" he gives your arm a soft squeeze and you nod your head.

"So, when is it too soon to start thinking of names?" Fry asks and the boys look at you.

"How the hell should I bloody know?" Newt asks after sipping on his cup making the boys chuckle.

Thomas eyes you as the guys talk to each other, and his eyebrows furrow in question. You shake your head and do a small wave with your hand to tell him that you will talk to him later. If someone could help you understand what was going through Newt's mind was Thomas, or Minho, but mostly Thomas. Newt seems to trust him more for a few things.

Now it was a matter to wait and see how things went. At least it was out there that you were expecting, and Newt knew. Thing now was, how everything was going to start working after these news…

#newt tmr #newt tmr imagine #newt tmr imagines #the maze runner imagines #the maze runner imagine #newt imagine #post!wicked newt #post!wicked newt imagine #the death cure imagine #tmr newt imagine #tmr newt imagines #(mine)#the maze runner

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glowwormcave · 2 years ago

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INFO YOU SHOULD KNOW ABOUT US BEFORE YOU FOLLOW:

—we like minx, fundy, jschlatt, whoever the fuck else.

—if you're like AVIDLY anti-endogenic.... idk why you're following us? you can, I'm like pretty sure we are not endogenic anyway, but like. our stance on endos is fairly positive. so. obviously syscourse is still in our DNI so do not do syscourse here this is a syscourse free zone. I think u should know that we are pretty open to other ppl's experiences tho. I'll expand on this more below.

—glowwormcave does not have trigger warnings 99.9% of the time.

—our system name is The Pantheon. it shouldn't affect your followership but it's important that u know that

uhhh that's basically it. cheers.

with the endo thing... it's more of like. I do not believe that people who don't have like. Actual psychology knowledge should really be debating the validity of an individual's internal experience. you are really just not qualified to debate that. you can have your individual opinions but you don't have the scientific background to fully back up your hypothesis.

another thing is is that there's just not enough research into the dissociated brain. how can u claim that an entire sect of people are lying and don't exist when u are not a brain scientist. i will just simply not fucking believe you lol. shit even if u were a brain scientist unless u have literally done studies and specialize in dissociative disorders I would take ur shit with a grain of salt.

like honestly i am more willing to be nice to a group of people describing weird experiences not yet proven by science than the people who harass them and call them fakers and whatever because the human brain is so vastly strange and we don't know much about how it works so if we were wrong it's like yeah no shit LOL. we r probably wrong on a ton of things. wasn't there a paper on alzheimer's that lead like a decade of research and turned out to be at least somewhat fabricated. that's probably not the only paper that has had results that have been tampered with tbh and while it's most likely not common in the slightest we have unfortunate reason to suspect some of our science might be based on lies now. so a lot of our studies might be a little off anyway. I don't think it's like a massive issue that's plaguing the scientific world but hey I wouldn't know cause I'm not a fucking scientist. chances are I'm wrong? very high! chances are equally uneducated people on the other side are also wrong? also very high! we r all so steadfast in our own perspectives anyway we r definitely missing stuff from the other side so who the fuck cares.

also the mindset of "if it happened its possible" which is common in endo friendly communities is also stupid as fuck... where is your skepticism? also ppl who ask "is this possible" r usually looking not for an answer of "yes this is possible" anyway but a definitive "yes this is possible because we, a party independent of you, also experience this" (aka COMMUNITY, you know, a basic human need).

everyone is wrong especially if you're not a fucking scientist. all the current literature in the fucking world could not answer this question of "are endos real." stop cosplaying as educated academics when u r just an average joe. if it means so much to u go out and get a fucking degree and start researching dissociative disorders and endogenic/traumagenic existence. call me classist or ableist or whatever but if u couldn't argue with Albert Einstein if u weren't a physicist so don't act like u know enough about psychology to argue the existence of endogenic systems. we can't figure out why we fucking dream what makes u think u can tell NEURODIVERGENT (UNCOMMON MOST LIKELY UNDERSTUDIED) ppl they're lying with a high school education.

tl;dr don't debate a complex and understudied existence if u don't have a degree in psychology. u r not qualified.

#aorry the under the readmore is Suuuch a mess this is a tumblr post so i decided i could stray from the fivw paragraph wssay format by #making it awful

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traumabrained · 8 years ago

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Tw for abuse So my parents abuse me, mostly physical from my mother, mostly verbal from my father. I've always coped with the abuse by acting calm and taking it, hiding, or attempting to descalate it and hoping I don't piss them off further. But recently I've started to act out with anger. Not just with them, with my little sister who yells as much as my father, and with animals. Not the ones I own, though. I'm afraid. What's happening to me? I shouldn't be angry. Being angry gets you killed.

while its certainly frightening, its also (as far as i can tell, with my own experiences and the experiences of others i’ve talked to) a normal response. essentially, either your brain thinks it’s safer and is deciding to start processing trauma (which doesn’t seem likely), or else you and your brain are both fed up. there’s really always a limit to how much someone can take, and it looks like you’ve reached that limit. since that can get you in trouble and also cause collateral damage (to the animals, or to your little sister, though “collateral damage” doesnt include self defense), i’m going to give you a few tips that might help you deal with the anger in a way that won’t make your parents abuse even worse.

(please note that since i dont know your exact situation, some or all of these might not be feasible; if that’s the case, you can message me again with more details if you want? and i’ll look for some different things)

exercise: i know this sounds like everyone’s irritating neurotypical relative but i promise you that if you can do it, it will help. exercise:

decreases stress and anger

helps you feel in control (even if you’re not. but it gives you hope, which is very valuable in abusive situations, right?) and

prepares you for physical attacks, if they get so bad that your options are fight back, run, or die.

im going to assume that you don’t have equipment that you can use, but if you do, use it. if not:

running--can be done anywhere, and it costs no money. if you think you will need to hide it from your parents, then go out very early in the morning, if possible (or late at night, but the morning is usually a lot safer, and no-one will be paying attention to you. literally anyone you pass will be pre-ocupied with going to work or school, and they will usually be too tired to even look up from their coffee). also try to use a specific pair of clothes--t-shirt, shorts if you have them, one sports bra if you use those, to minimize the amount of sweaty clothes you’ll be putting in the wash. during exercise is a good time to maybe think about your abusers--let yourself get mad. let yourself get pissed, if you can, and use the anger to run even harder. i did this a lot when i still lived with my parents, and it probably saved my life.

weights--you can often buy them pretty cheap on amazon or in a store, but if your parents are monitoring your purchases then you can use gallon jugs of water/milk (if they dont buy galons of water/milk then u can buy 1 gallon of water for around 1USD in most stores, which would be easier to hide and explain than any purchase of exercise equipment). fill the gallons with water, and lift them--you can google “dumbbell exercises” for some exercise routines. do this in the early morning if possible.

push-ups/sit-ups--these are probably the least satisfying to do, at least for me? but also the easiest if you aren’t able to get outside early morning, or if you’re absolutely not going to be able to buy any kind of weights. if you can’t do a full push-up, try working up to it by putting your weight on your knees, instead of your toes.

i recommend that you look into proper technique before you do any of these--im just trying to give you ideas.

if exercise isn’t feasible for any reason, then art is the next way to go. a lot of trauma survivors (especially child abuse survivors) write poetry. visual art is also a good outlet but i’ve found that it’s usually a bit less cathartic. if your parents go through your things regularly, then either make a new tumblr account and tell nobody about it, and write your stuff there, or (if tumblr isnt safe) write only on single sheets of printer/notebook paper and burn or shred them immediately after you’re done.

if you think you’re not a good enough writer to do this, then listen: you’re not writing this for it to be good. you’re not. it doesn’t matter at all. no-one else will ever read it. you don’t even have to read it again. it doesnt have to look or sound good. the only objective is to process your trauma and anger. the plus side is that no matter what, you will improve your writing by doing this, so if you are interested in being a poet, or already are, then writing trauma poetry will only help you. i recommend poetry instead of prose (prose is anything that isn’t poetry) because you don’t have to worry about structure, or about it making sense/having a plot. it can be really hard at first, especially if you don’t usually write a lot. if you need to, you can try using these prompts (they probably arent all applicable but if you can finish any of these sentences in your head, then you can write a poem about it) (possible trigger warning, skip the bullet points if you need to)(i’m just going to use “they” because any gender of person could do this and i don’t want to make assumptions but you can swap out the pronouns if necessary)

they wouldn’t stop ...

i don’t feel safe ...

they hit me when ...

i feel like i stopped existing at [age]...

i don’t want to be here ...

when you are writing, let yourself get mad, if possible. nothing you write will have any consequences if you burn the page, right? nothing is out of bounds. write anything and everything. write about how they’ll burn in hell. about how you hope they get murdered gruesomely. about how you’ll rip them into pieces the next time they touch you. anything. if you can’t summon anger, that’s okay. you can also write about how you feel like you’re rotting. you can write about how you miss when they were good to you. or how they were never good to you, but you miss it anyway. about how when you get out, you’ll have a nice apartment with someone you love (platonically or romantically, it doesnt matter), and maybe a pet, and how you’ll go to the bakery down the street sometimes and get croissants and sit in the sun and how it will be okay. how you’ll never have to see them again. how safe you’ll be. how happy you’ll be.

any of that will be cathartic, i promise you. i started writing poetry at the age of 12, and all of it was about my abuse. it was bad--i went back and read it a few months ago, and i’ve improved a hell of a lot since then. i’ve worked through a lot of my trauma, partially with a therapist, but mostly with my writing. it’s easier than therapy for me, because no-one else can see me while i do it. it’s easier to break down every part of the abuse, to analyze it. and after writing a poem, i always feel drained, like i just lanced an infection or something. i dont know. but writing works. i promise.

therapy is the last thing thing on my list here because its very inaccessable to a lot of people. minors, anyone without insurance, or anyone in a rural area is going to have a hell of a time getting therapy, you know? so that’s why its last. if you have a good therapist, it’ll probably be the most helpful of all of these, but even that is a hit and miss (i’ve seen at least a dozen therapists, psychiatrists, psychologists, and mixtures of both, and i always seem to get the people who don’t believe me, who think that yelling at me will fix problems, who report everything to my parents. but not everyone’s like that--i just have some incredibly shit luck).

if you can get a therapist, do. they can help immensely. if you can’t, then try the other things until you can get to a position where therapy is accessable for you.

i hope this helped, im sorry its so long? and im sorry it took like a week gah

#also i hope theres not too many spelling mistakes #my spellcheck is set on french and i have dyslexia so i really cant spell for shit #though i read over this a few times and caught a lot so hopefully its good #anonyme #child abuse #actuallyptsd

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spicycreativity · 4 years ago

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A Place Where I Can Breathe - Ch 4

Chapter: 4/7 Additional Notes: See Ch 1 for more information. Read on AO3 under "WizardGlick." Any formatting/italics errors are holdovers from AO3 that I was too lazy to fix. Chapter Content Warnings: N/A; ask to tag Excerpt: Poor Roman. He made it so easy. Janus leaned in a little, not so much that he was intruding on Roman's personal space, and touched his knuckles to his chin. "Bore me? You're Creativity. What makes you think you could ever be boring?" He cocked his head and looked at Roman with expectation, inviting him to read between the lines. Who told Roman he was boring? Who made him feel like a burden?

The plan went into motion the following evening. Roman kept inconsistent hours and worked in inconsistent locations, and Janus had accordingly predicted long hours spent listening at the basement door for a chance at catching Roman alone. He was already working on a plan to lure Roman down, but it was difficult when his knowledge was barely surface-level. He didn't know in detail what Roman liked. But the wheels of fate turned and Roman bade his friends goodnight and announced that he would be staying up late to work on a project.

"That's lucky," Remus said when Janus informed him of the news.

Janus smiled at him. "Where reason fails, the Devil helps." He fussed with his gloves and straightened his capelet. "It's showtime."

"Beetlejuice is my thing," Remus said as Janus sank out.

He couldn't help the pang of loathing that pierced his heart at the sight of Roman scribbling away in a notebook. Remus had never been afforded the luxury of creative freedom, and it felt so obscene to stand here and watch Roman revel in it.

Willing his face into a more polite expression, Janus sat down by Roman and waited to be acknowledged.

Roman caught the motion out of the corner of his eye, but was too busy writing to spare the processing power it would take to identify his visitor. Whoever it was, they knew better than to interrupt him while he was preoccupied. He finished up his thought, jotted down one final note in the margin, and turned to address his guest. "H--Uh-- Deceit!" He jerked backward in surprise, slamming his notebook shut. "I wasn't expecting you." Despite his best efforts not to stare, his gaze kept falling on Janus' scales, his slit-pupiled snake eye. Roman tried not to shudder.

Janus cursed himself for not anticipating this. He should have sat on Roman's left side. Ah, well. Nothing to do for it now but apply extra charm. "Good evening, Roman," he purred, turning his head a little beyond what was comfortable so Roman could see more of his human side. "Did you know that you bite your lip when you concentrate? It's cute."

"Oh, um." Roman touched his fingertips to his lower lip, equal parts flattered and confused. "Thank you?" The overhead lights caught on Janus' cheekbone, giving him a soft glow. He gazed at Roman with gentle anticipation. Roman looked into the rich brown of his human eye. "I was just working on a story about, um, well… Oh, I won't bore you with the details."

Poor Roman. He made it so easy. Janus leaned in a little, not so much that he was intruding on Roman's personal space, and touched his knuckles to his chin. "Bore me? You're Creativity. What makes you think you could ever be boring?" He cocked his head and looked at Roman with expectation, inviting him to read between the lines. Who told Roman he was boring? Who made him feel like a burden?

"The, uh, the others," Roman stammered, not wanting to talk badly about his friends.

To his surprise, Janus flashed him an almost guilty smile before hiding it behind one gloved hand. "The others don't understand your creative vision, do they? I always wondered how you put up with them trying to shut you down."

"I don't know that they shut me down, exactly," Roman said, making one last effort to be charitable before sliding over the brink. He lowered his voice to a whisper, "But they never seem to want to listen. Logan is always poking holes in my plots and asking boring questions about the worldbuilding, and Patton always spaces out and asks me to repeat myself, like he can't even be bothered to listen to what I'm saying! And he always says the same thing whenever I ask for feedback. It's like, I don't need criticism, but I'd appreciate something a little more in-depth than 'oh, it's fine,' you know?" Janus nodded. Roman took a breath. "And Anxiety. I don't even want to think about what he'd say. He's always trying to shut me down before I even start: 'What if someone has done this before? What if nobody likes it? What if you're not good enough?'"

Janus raised his eyebrows and looked away. Some of that certainly sounded like Virgil, but he had a strong suspicion that most of Roman's insecurities originated from within himself. "I agree, he's not good for you."

"Oh!" Roman ran a hand through his hair and looked away. "I don't- I didn't mean.. "

"You said it yourself," Janus said, preemptive triumph blazing beautiful and cruel in his chest, "he sabotages your function." He pictured Roman alone in his room, hunched over a notebook and scribbling furiously with a pen that would not and could not write. Or better yet, Roman with a functioning pen staring paralyzed at the blank page before him, his own insecurities stilling his hand. "He's bad for you."

"Hold on a second," Roman said, putting up a hand to stop Janus. How did they get here? He'd just been venting, and now suddenly Virgil was to blame for all his problems? He nearly smacked his own forehead when it clicked just who he was talking to. "I didn't mean that!"

"But you said it," Janus said, feigning misunderstanding. "So you lied to me?"

"No, no, that was true."

"Then we're in agreement. Anxiety is bad for you."

Roman shook his head emphatically. "It was true. Anxiety was bad for me. He's changed."

Janus couldn't help himself; he rolled his eyes. "He's Anxiety! It's literally his job to shoot you down."

"I used to think that," Roman said, anger spilling into his cheeks and turning his face red. "But I know better now. Anxiety isn't like you and my brother; he has a place with us and he helps us make Thomas the best possible version of himself. And if you don't understand that, then I don't think I have anything more to say to you. And don't even think about coming anywhere near Anxiety ever again. I won't allow it."

Janus took in a shaky breath, finally letting his hatred, his frustration, his despair show on his face. And he struck, envenomating the weapon Roman had unwittingly handed him: "Very well, Roman. But let me leave you with this: Anxiety has nothing to do with your inability to perform. You're only half a function, and nothing you make will ever stand up as long as you remain afraid of your own potential. You're just as inadequate as you think you are, and it's nobody's fault but your own."

And, still shaking with rage, he sank out.

"Shit!" Janus slammed his open palm into the wall and pressed into it, forcing himself to take deep breaths.

There was no reply but the scratching of pen on paper. Janus whipped his head around and the anger drained from him at the sight of Remus scribbling away in a notebook. At least some good had come out of his little confrontation.

"Well, I'm not sure what you did to my brother," Remus said, not looking up, "but he's definitely distracted."

"I may…" Janus said delicately, rubbing the heel of his hand with his opposing thumb, "have failed to account for certain unexpected variables." He sat down next to Remus, careful not to jostle him, and grit his teeth.

"Mm?" Remus said, turning a page.

"Such as your brother being too thick-headed and stubborn to listen when someone's trying to manipulate him." Janus scoffed.

"Mm," said Remus, still writing.

Janus glanced over at him. Just as Roman had been doing earlier, Remus was chewing at his lower lip while he wrote, his brow creased. Janus tapped his fingertips against his own lips. He shouldn't have called Roman 'half a function,' and not just because it implied that Remus was as well. He knew from experience that lashing out only ever made things harder for himself. Now a whole new barrier towered before him and it was nobody's fault but his own. Janus laughed humorlessly, not missing the irony. He would blame Roman, though. It hurt less that way.

"I suppose it's too much to ask," Janus mused out loud, "that things could just be easy for once."

Remus stopped writing, ignoring the pang of regret, and scooted over so he could put his arm around Janus. It was undeniably painful to throw away an opportunity to make his voice heard, but Janus needed him now. He never admitted when he wanted comfort, so Remus had become adept at picking up on unvoiced desires over the years. "Yeah, probably."

"Please do stop writing; that won't make me feel guilty at all."

"I was pretty much done anyway," Remus said. "There's only so much debauchery and vomit you can fit into one story."

It was an obvious lie, but Janus let it go. He leaned into Remus' shoulder despite the way it knocked his hat askew and tried not to think about Virgil. "I don't even miss him," he said, the lie ringing hollow even in his own ears. "We just can't let him start working against us."

"We won't," Remus promised. "He'll come back. We can be his favorites again." After all, they had been friends before. Whatever Roman and the others had done to charm Virgil could be undone. He would remember his friends again. "And besides, we have Plan B for Butthole!"

Janus laughed despite himself and let Remus pull him in closer. "Maybe let's wait to implement that one."

Roman couldn't breathe properly; something was wrong with his lungs. Every inhale hitched in his throat and his mouth ached like he was about to cry.

But he dismissed that ridiculous thought with a firm shake of his head. He was the guardian prince, the hero! Heroes never wept for themselves.

He swallowed down the ache and got to his feet so he could find Virgil and let him know what had happened.

If a few wayward tears slipped down Roman's cheeks as he ascended the staircase, he wiped them away without giving them a second thought. The jaunt up the stairs did nothing to help his erratic breathing, and he was almost winded by the time he got to Virgil's door.

He had to knock for a long time before Virgil finally answered. He had been listening to his music as loud as he could tolerate it, and had only noticed Roman's knocking during a transition between songs.

Virgil's sarcastic greeting died on his lips at the sight of Roman panting in the doorway. His lower lip trembled and his eyes were suspiciously shiny, but his voice was steady as ever when he spoke. "Anxiety! I need to speak with you."

"Dude, are you okay?" Virgil asked, letting the walls of his brooding facade fall away in the face of his concern for his friend.

"Never better!" Roman declared. He was determined not to let Virgil see just how deep Janus' words had cut him. "May I come in?"

"Uh, sure, I guess." Virgil stepped aside, trying not to feel too self-conscious about his unmade bed.

Roman didn't comment on it, just followed Virgil's lead and sat down on the floor with his back against the foot of the bed. Despite the persistent ache in his chest, he fought for bravado. "I've just faced off against a fiendish foe!"

Virgil's heart dropped into his stomach. "Oh, yeah?"

"Indeed. I went toe-to-toe with a certain sneaky snake and scared him silly!"

"What did he say to you?" Virgil demanded. Everything slotted into place in an instant, Roman's shaky demeanor and false confidence.

Roman waved a hand, annoyed to notice it was shaking. "Nothing of import. You don't have to worry about me, Anxiety, I can handle myself in these matters."

Virgil supposed he should have seen this coming. "So let me guess. You're worried about me ."

"Of course I'm not worried about you!" Roman said, puffing out his chest. "You have the best protector in the world."

"You?"

"Me!"

"So why did you need to come see me?" Virgil asked. Whatever Janus had said to Roman obviously hadn't altered Roman's opinion of Virgil any.

"Exactly that," Roman said. "That you need not worry. I banished the snake back to the basement where he belongs! And I told him that I would not allow him to see you ever again."

Virgil couldn't stop the look of horror that crossed his face. He pressed his hand to his forehead, trying to calm his own breathing. "What?"

"I stood up to that fork-tongued fiend and told him to leave you alone forever," Roman said, a little less self-assured this time. He knew better than to expect a wondrous display of gratitude from Virgil, but he had been expecting some sort of thanks.

"That's great," Virgil said weakly. He knew he wasn't selling it, but was too overwhelmed to really care. "Thanks."

Roman nodded. "Well, I suppose l'll, ah. I'll just go, then." He hadn't realized how badly he'd wanted to stay until he was faced with the idea of leaving. But Virgil just nodded, his eyes empty, so Roman saw himself out.

Virgil immediately started to chew on his thumbnail, mind racing. He knew should have asked for more details from Roman but panic had a way of demanding attention, choking out rationality. He was thinking clearly now, though. He had failed. Whatever Janus had said had obviously hurt Roman badly, and Virgil hadn't been a good enough friend to try to fix it, and he hadn't been a good enough protector to prevent it. The only thing he could do now was try to stop it from happening again.

Virgil sighed and let his head fall back against the edge of his bed. He was absolutely certain that Janus would be out for blood now.

#spicywrites #spicywrites a place where i can breathe

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