#the broken wrist ? catching amelia falling out of a tree

[moeblob]

I kinda maybe put a lot of my OC plot tag lines on a Wheel and gave it a spin so outta 79 options, it landed on "Cellphone Justice" which is... these two.

Matthew "Skittles" Mouse and Daisy Eddington

Partners in justice (of sorts). They're basically vigilantes and their orders are simply text messages. They don't really know who their bosses are but they do as they are told.

Skittles is a very mediocre guy. Doesn't stand out. The most color he has in his wardrobe is blue jeans. He's amazingly asexual and has zero interest in romance regardless of intimacy and yet he gets partnered with Daisy. The gayest lady he has ever met. Great start. She enjoys calling him fun little nicknames but seeing as they're monitored closely (via cell phones/technology) she is scolded and told to pick a single one. So she does. She dubs him Skittles. The candy as gay as her.

The one thing they have in common is their number one weakness: cute girls.

Daisy turns into a stuttering MESS of a human being. A disaster. At the mere sight of a cute girl. Skittles on the other hand is TERRIFIED of them. When asked, he simply blames his life growing up. Daisy doesn't really push the matter just thinks it's a little weird to be scared of every single cute girl (no offense to the not being afraid of her taken).

[sprinklesandsugarcubes]

Crimson Passage; Prologue

Rating: NSFW/Mature

Warnings: Angst, Emotional Manipulation, Bloodshed/Slight Gore

Note: Remember, this is a repost of old work before I start continuing. If you have any concerns, please message me. 

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She lay there on the forest floor.

It had been quiet for some time, the kind of silent stillness that the wilderness assumes when a predator much more daunting than most wanders into its midst. It was late, easily after midnight though not yet near dawn, leaving the pale beams of moonlight to filter through the trees from high up in the night sky. And, it was with that light that the girl's form became dimly visible to the eye, left behind in a disregarded heap, prone and vulnerable amongst a cushion of leaves and grasses, deep within the woods of Mystic Falls. Her hair was darker in the lack of light; the long tresses of coffee and copper colored strands were tangled with the remains of leaves and matted with blood. Her eyelids fluttered at the edge of unconsciousness, thick ebony lashes brushing lightly against the fair skin of her cheeks. The quiet and the shadows of night mixed together, pressing down and around her to form an eerie atmosphere, until it was finally broken by a sound.

A startled, choking gasp.

The girl shot upright from where she lay, her chest heaving and lips parted as she inhaled through a gasping shriek that left her choking violently on the intake. Her head spun sickeningly, the dizziness causing her vision to blur, and she collapsed forward onto her hands in a half-sitting, half-lying position. Quiet cries of confusion escaped her as she blinked rapidly, blearily catching sight of her surroundings and the dense brush that surrounded her.

Just how exactly had she gotten in the woods?

She couldn't…she couldn't remember.

Desperately, she grappled for the last thing she could remember, but only blackness awaited her with each of her tries. Her hands shook as she lifted them before her, the stain of dirt and blood leaving her to furrow her brow in question. She looked from them to her front, biting back another gasp at the overwhelming dark stain waiting for her there, the crimson color spreading across the tattered ivory material. It had dripped from her neckline down her chest, between her breasts that were nearly bared by the rip in her flowy top, all the way down to her navel. She became consciously aware of the sticky, viscous liquid that bloomed across the fair skin of her chest and neck, her eyes widening as the knowledge she couldn't quite place began to seep back into her frazzled mind. She had been attacked, she knew, by a vampire. Its fangs had buried deep within her neck, piercing her artery, and they had been a messy eater judging by the amount that was smeared across her body and clothes.

Her heart should have been thundering in her chest, pounding through the fear and panic that her realization brought about.

Only…it wasn't.

Instead, it thudded in what she knew to be an abnormally slow, yet partially constant rhythm.

Her stomach lurched dangerously.

Again, her head felt like it was spinning, a heavy weight on her shoulders she could hardly bear to keep. She tipped forward into the muck, dry heaving against an onslaught of shuffling memories that attacked her mind all at once, leaving her nearly writhing on the ground and her head aching.

The small box in her hands was cold to the touch, and despite what she knew to be true, she couldn't begin to believe what she was seeing. The vials were small, they held maybe six ounces of fluid in each, but it wasn't them that took her by surprise.

It was what they contained.

She glanced up, her silvery gray eyes wide as they connected with ocean blues. His own were crinkled slightly at the edges, a faint amusement flickering within their depths to match his smirk as he witnessed her reaction to his gift.

She stuttered through her question; why?

"Because, love. You are my first real…friend, that I've had in centuries. I refuse to part with you."

The beaming smile that spread across her lips was involuntary, and without another thought, she carefully stored the precious containers that held the glass vials, filled to the top each with a dark red substance, into the miniature fridge she kept in her room. The next moment she was in his arms, wrapped up in a tight hug that he returned much more quickly than he had the very first time she had done it.

"Every day Amelia, I mean it."

"I promise, Nik."

~.~.~

"What the hell are you doing Damon?!"

She struggled where the raven-haired vampire had trapped her, the cool wood paneling of his bathroom sliding door pressing tightly into her bare back. She had only the fluffy towel wrapped around her body, not that it mattered considering he had seen all she had to offer only a few hours before. She frowned at him in confusion, at first thinking it to be a game of sorts, maybe round two…

But it wasn't.

He gripped her wrists tightly, pressing them into the door on either side of her head, and it was the expression of sorrowful, guilty determination that made her freeze in her movements.

An icy finger of dread traced its way down her spine.

"No." Her whisper was more of a plea, begging him not to do what she suspected he might.

He squeezed his eyes shut and dropped his head forward onto her shoulder, breaking her gaze with the icy blues that she had grown to love over the months she had known him. Panicked breaths lifted her chest rapidly; her heart beat out a frantic pattern in both of their ears as the blood rushed in her veins. He let out a groan and she used the distraction wisely, managing to break free of his hold just long enough to reach for the vervain charm bracelet that rested on the counter only a few feet away.

Her fingers brushed the cool silver.

And he swiped the piece of jewelry from her grasp, ignoring her outraged shriek. Once more he cornered her, the vanity counter cutting into the small of her back as he nearly bent her backwards over it.

"I'm sorry Ames, you don't know how sorry I am." He murmured, shaking his head.

Her shout echoed off the tiles and stone, almost making him wince. "Then don't DO this Damon!"

The towel was long forgotten, her bare chest pressing into his own as he stood there in only a pair of dark jeans. His smattering of chest hair tickled her breasts, and even with her mounting fear, she could feel the desire for him pool low in her stomach. Hot, ready. His nostrils flared, a low moan rumbling through his chest and throat, though he shook his head to clear it almost immediately after.

"I have to."

"Why!" She gasped out, tears of betrayal and hurt clouding her vision. "Why would you do this to me? It was right, I know it was right! And say what you want, I know you felt it too, otherwise…"

They both fell silent at her declaration, each of their minds flashing back to the erotic exchange of blood on both their parts.

It wasn't something done on a whim.

"I just…have to bellissimo. You have to trust me." He muttered, trying to push away the feeling her words left behind.

She glared at him fiercely, refusing to break even as a few brave but traitorous tears leaked from the corners of her silvery gray eyes. "Why should I when you-"

Damon cut her off with a searing kiss, his lips sliding over her own as he reached up to tangle the fingers of one hand into her long hair, while the other cupped her jaw and smoothed his thumb over her cheekbone. She let out a startled gasp, giving him plenty of opportunity to delve into the depths of her mouth, the sweetness of her taste spreading out over his tongue. He groaned low in his throat, the sound equally matched with her own moan of pleasure, and he let out a hiss of surprise when she bit down on his bottom lip, sinking her teeth into the sensitive flesh.

He pulled back, a small smirk masking his emotions, and as she opened her mouth to speak again, her eyes glittering at him mischievously, he gripped her face tightly between his hands and murmured the words that would most probably damn him to hell. His pupils dilated, leaving her enthralled and susceptible to the compulsion he exercised.

"This…this never happened Amelia. You came over to hang out and we ended up wrestling in the kitchen. We did not have sex. We did not exchange blood. You used my shower to clean up. You will get dressed and come out, and then we'll spend the rest of the day watching your ridiculous choices in movies."

Her brow furrowed, making his breath hitch in anxiety.

She had always been harder to compel than any other he had ever met. But, after a moment, she parroted his words back to him. He sighed, a feeling of both relief and regret mixing to leave him almost nauseous.

Blinking her eyes open and closed a few times to clear her hazy vision, she stared at what was just herself in the mirror, then laughed quietly at their antics.

Only Damon would provoke a food fight in his own kitchen.

~.~.~

She groaned.

Her muscles were stiff, the soreness making any movement much harder than she expected as she reached out blindly, and a dull pain throbbed at the base of her skull. Something dry and rough crackled beneath her as she attempted to sit up, and she sighed in relief when her eyes didn't open to blinding light, but soothing darkness instead.

The feeling didn't last for long.

Her mouth was dry and as she rolled her lips, the snug tie of a gag around her mouth became apparent. Her eyes widened in shock, blinking rapidly, and she immediately lifted her hands to remove the offending object.

Only to find her hands tied in front of her.

Her mind raced.

She didn't understand, one moment she had been arguing over the choice of pizza or pasta for dinner with Elena, and now she was tied up and gagged in the forest?! She commanded herself to think, to remember, and the vague notion of the doorbell ringing came to her mind.

Yes!

The doorbell had rung and she had asked her younger sister, by all of eight minutes- Elena would complain, to answer the door as she finished up taking out the trash. The cool autumn breeze had brought a smile to her face as she inhaled deeply, enjoying the scent of crisp fall air and pine, but the scared voice of Elena echoing out from within the kitchen made her pause and frown, her peace interrupted.

"Please! We can talk about this just don't hurt-"

A blur of a figure stopped her abruptly, and just as a sharp pain bloomed out across the base of her skull prompting her vision to darken, her silvery gray eyes met with a pair of nearly emotionless forest greens.

Son of a bitch…

"Stefan!"

A dark chuckle resonated from the shadows, curling up her spine and leaving goosebumps behind in its wake.

"What's up buttercup?"

Snapping her head to the right, she caught sight of him just in time to see him emerge from a dense grouping of trees on the side of the small clearing she sat in. He graced her with a taunting smirk as he tipped his head, crouching down in front of her to push the hair away that had fallen in front of her eyes. She nearly snapped at him, her lip curled up in a snarl as she glared.

"What am I doing here Stefan?"

He grinned boyishly, settling down next to her as he pretended to remain oblivious to her struggling with her binds.

"You, sweet Amelia, are…well, sadly I think you're just going to be collateral damage. But here nor there, you're here because Damon needs to make a choice."

She frowned. "A choice?"

He nodded enthusiastically, scooting a bit closer as he explained.

"See, Damon is struggling. On one hand, there's you. Sweet Amelia Gilbert, twin of the doppelgänger yet looks nothing like any of them. You're a sweet release from the constant reminder of Katherine's manipulation, compassionate yet sassy, and you love him with your whole heart, despite his shortcomings. Now, on the other hand, there's Elena-"

The warmth in my blood at Damon's name cooled suddenly, and my hands stilled as my twin sister's name left the youngest Salvatore's lips.

"-she's the kryptonite to his Superman, if you know what I mean. Despite having such a good thing with you, and the fact that you're now blood bonded, he still-"

She shook her head quickly, her eyes snapping to his. "Blood bonded? I'm not bonded to him Stefan, we haven't even had sex yet, much less made that exchange!"

The green-eyed vampire's boyish grin turned darkly sinister, his eyes glinting with a malicious glee and amusement as he watched every minute expression that crossed her face.

"Oh, but you are," He insisted, flashing his teeth in a sneer. "You just don't remember."

"No."

She had meant to sound strong, confident as she denied his claim, but it came out as a meek whisper instead. She wanted to believe that Damon would never do such a thing; he wouldn't have sex with her, exchange blood with her during the act and create a lasting bond, and then force her to forget it. But even in her sureness, there was a niggling voice of doubt.

There had been little blocks of time, slipping through her fingers lately.

And she couldn't remember why.

She swallowed, glancing up to catch his eyes with hers, just barely missing a faint amount of sympathy in the green depths that he masked quickly.

"So, I'm forcing him to make a choice. It's not fair, to you or Elena. I won't let him play the two of you as Katherine did to-"

"Please, spare me your halfway emotionless Saint Stefan act!" She snarled, lunging at him, pulling at the rope that wrapped around her wrists. "This has nothing to do with saving Elena and I from the pain that you and Damon experienced with Katherine. This is revenge, plain and simple. You've lost Elena, Damon has me, and you're pissed off."

A low growl tore through his throat, the black veins of his vampire visage slithering out beneath his eyes that were turning blood red around the green irises. She steeled her spine when his lip curled up over sharp fangs, glinting in the moonlight threateningly.

She refused to cringe back in fright.

"I'm going to enjoy ripping into your throat and-"

The sharp ring of his cell phone cut him off mid-sentence, making him snarl in irritation before he grinned down at the name that reflected back at him. He swiped the call open to connect, bringing the slim device to his ear before he spoke.

"Hello, brother."

She watched him as he took a few steps away from her, tracking the movements of her once friend. It stung to know that he had taken her for his warped plan of revenge, though his motives were something that she continued to put off thinking about.

It wasn't something she wanted to believe possible.

But there had been looks…things murmured that she had taken notice of and desperately tried to write off. Sure, they weren't public about their almost-relationship (except to Stefan it seemed), but certainly, he wouldn't screw her over.

For her sister no less.

Stefan's large hand sealed around her upper arm in a bruising grip, and she let out a sharp yelp as he yanked her nearly off her feet when lifting her up from the ground. She could hear the faint sound of Damon's snarl through the speaker of the cell phone in Stefan's other hand, but pushed it to the side as she fought against the hold on her arm.

"Let me go, Stefan!" She screeched, twisting this way and that.

Blinding hot pain shot through her wrist suddenly, following the sickening sound of bone snapping, and her scream bounced off the surrounding trees before echoing through the forest beyond.

"Amelia!"

She gasped through her cries, cradling her newly broken wrist to her chest as she glared up with tear-filled eyes at her captor.

He simply grinned back impishly.

"Amelia!" Damon called again, his voice a bit higher with the panic he was trying to hide. "Ames, are you okay? Answer me, piccolo. I need to know you're alright."

She sucked in a ragged breath, nodding even though he couldn't see as she choked out her words. "It's j-just my wrist Day, he…he broke my wrist."

Damon snarled viciously.

Stefan chuckled through the threatening sound.

And Amelia shuddered, fear finally working its way into her blood.

Damon cooed at the small sob that escaped her lips he could just barely hear, soothing away her worry in the best way possible he could as he slammed the front door behind him.

"Shh-sh piccolo. Everything is fine, everything will be fine. I'm coming to get you, and then I'm going to shove a bottle of bourbon up Stefan's ass."

A watery laugh bubbled in her throat, and she sniffed passed the tears. "Don't waste good bourbon on that Day, use the rum instead."

He chuckled with her, though the sound was strained.

"That's cute." Stefan's snide tone interrupted the couple. "But that's not quite how this works."

Damon's laughter was low and gravelly this time, filled with a dark promise of pain and vengeance once he got his hands and fangs on his little brother. "That is exactly how this works Stefanie, let me tell you-"

"No, you let me tell you!" Stefan barked angrily, gripping Amelia's hair so tightly, another yelp of protest escaped her. "You don't just get to come here and run the show! This is MY time Damon, MY game-"

Damon breathed heavily, already pacing toward the trees at the edge of the Boarding House's property line.

"You have to make a choice."

He froze.

"You see, earlier today, when I took sweet little Amelia from her home…she wasn't the only one I took."

His breath came in pants. The slow pace of his undead heart quickened in a way that made it feel as if the organ would beat its way right out of his chest.

"That's right…I took Elena."

He could count with the fingers of one hand the amount of times he had truly feared the outcome of a situation.

Amelia being nearly drained by the tomb vampires, he had been able to counter with feeding her his blood. The same went for the sacrifice of Elena, even though she had been overwhelmingly angry with him afterwards, but hey…she was still breathing. Losing his brother had been heartbreaking, something he kept hidden from just about everyone (except Amelia of course, she had seen right through him), but he knew Klaus wanted him alive. The plan to kill Klaus which backfired and ended in Mikael's death, and Amelia's ferocious glare, had been a debacle…but there was no fear.

"Elena, Amelia, Elena."

This…this was fear.

"Which will it be, brother? Who will you save?"

Amelia stared up at green-eyed vampire in pure shock. It dimly registered with her that not only had she been taken in Stefan's insane plot to get back at Damon, but her sister had as well. But the only thing that she could focus on, that reverberated through her mind, was that Stefan was forcing his older brother to choose between herself and her sister.

One of her closest friends (at one time, she supposed not now) was making her almost-boyfriend (and apparent lover, though she refused to let herself believe still), choose whose life to save.

Hers…or Elena's.

And all she could hear from Damon, was his panicked mutterings and heavy breathing.

"Damon…" She breathed, a whimper escaping her throat unbidden.

On the other end of the line, he clenched his eyes closed, swallowing thickly. "Ames…"

"Tick, tock brother…tick, tock."

~.~.~

It had been half an hour.

Her muscles were so stiff from the fear and adrenaline dousing her system, combined with her cramped and bound position on the forest floor, she didn't want to even think about moving. Her cheeks were stained with tears, the mascara leaving behind smudged tracks that stood out against her skin in the moonlight. Her lip was raw from being bitten and sucked on through her nerves, and small crescent-shaped cuts littered her palms where her nails had sunk into her own skin while she clenched her fists.

Damon wasn't coming.

The first five minutes she had been supremely confident, trading snarky banter with Stefan even though her foot bounced in anxiety. The five minutes after that, her heart rate had sped up in her chest, pounding through her ribcage as the first stirrings of doubt did their best to creep in, even as she steadily pushed them away. The next five minutes…her hands began to tremble a bit, her eyes glazed over with a faint sheen of tears, and she bit down on her lip in an attempt to hold herself together.

Fifteen minutes, and no Damon.

He was just brainstorming, she told herself, making a few calls so that someone else could get to Elena while he rescued her.

Ric…yes, he would call Ric, and everything would be fine. Hell, she could almost bet that he would call Niklaus in an attempt to save her. Without Elena there were no more hybrids, after all.

The fourth set of five minutes had Stefan beginning to pace in agitation, throwing intense and penetrating looks her way almost every fifteen seconds. The five after that, her tears overflowed from where they had been hovering at the brim of her eyes, tracing down her cheeks in slow but steady trails of salt water. Her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach, the quiet murmur of doubt in her mind turning into a frantic scream.

Now she stood, gazing back at the forest green eyes directly in front of her, a mess to behold and her heart consumed with anger and the sense of treachery.

How…how could he?

She had nearly died for him many a time, had given herself over with Stefan to Nik in order to save his life, and when she needed him most…he chose Elena.

Her sister.

"I'm sorry Amelia."

She could almost believe him; underneath the plastic sorrow in his voice, there was a true hesitancy lurking there.

"I would have been content to destroy the charade, for you to see the truth that he hid from you so easily."

That stung. 

She never thought she would have been deceived so completely, and with little to no hint of the offender's true intentions at that.

"But I'm just…so hungry."

Amelia didn't even have time to react to his words, much less be afraid.

He swooped down on her instantly, pulling her hair back and yanking her neck to the side so roughly, the bones there squeaked in protest. Her scream was sharp and blood-curdling as his fangs ripped through her delicate skin, plunging into the artery that lay beneath almost clumsily. Stefan growled against her skin, pulling at her hair in an attempt to force her into baring her neck fully to him. 

She screamed as loudly as she could, the shrill sound echoing for miles, even though she knew it would do her little good. She fumbled to fight against him, pounding into his solid chest with her fists, but the movement was already weak. Between the amount of blood he was consuming and the amount he spilled in waste, that dripped and seeped down her skin and clothes, her strength was steadily waning.

This was it.

She was going to die, at the hands of her once-friend, and because the man she loved obviously loved her own sister more.

There was so much she hadn't done.

So many she wished to speak to, just one more time.

But she would get none of it…this was her ending event.

She didn't even feel it when Stefan pulled his fangs from her neck carelessly, her limp weight cradled in his arms and against his chest. Black spots and dots clouded her vision, an array of swirling colors hidden beneath them. Her heart stuttered in its beat within her chest, her lungs strained to bring in the necessary oxygen. Numbness…that was the best way to describe how she felt. Even her fury and hurt had ebbed, overtaken with the blissful obliviousness of darkness that unwound its silky fingers, tugging at her ankles to pull her under.

"It'll be better this way 'Melia…trust me."

She barely heard Stefan's voice above the rushing sound in her ears; she certainly didn't hear that he had used the nickname he had chosen just for her.

She definitely didn't remember the small vial of red liquid she had swallowed that morning, just as she had done every single day for months before.

With a quick twist of two powerful wrists; a sharp snap echoed in the inky blackness, a neck snapped and a heartbeat silenced.

Amelia Elizabeth Gilbert, was no more.

She cried.

She screamed.

She retched violently, her entire body shuddering with the action.

There were still blank spots in her memory, things she knew that she should know but didn't, and the pain throbbing through her temples and to the base of her skull was excruciating. Her mind had gifted her with the small bit of information she needed though, heartbreaking and agonizing as it may be.

Damon had sex with her, exchanged blood with her, told her he loved her…and compelled her to forget every second of it.

Stefan's claims had proved themselves to be true.

She had been taken from the warmth of her own kitchen, leaving behind uncooked pasta on the stove, and hauled out into the forest of Mystic Falls. Bound and tied, forced to listen as the younger Salvatore vampire destroyed all that she believed to be true, then gave an ultimatum in trade for her life.

Damon had sacrificed her, choosing Elena to save instead.

And even though he had planned on letting her go, Stefan had nearly drained her of her blood supply and, judging by the soreness in her neck, snapped her neck instead.

She was dead.

Well…as dead as a baby vampire could be anyway.

[no-white-knights-blog]

Halo - An Etrian Odyssey Novel (Chapter 1/50)

Notes: Here’s the first chapter of my Etrian Odyssey novel revolving around my guild, Halo. This entire novel is dedicated to @theshatteredrose, who inspired me to finally create my own guild. In coming chapters several explorers from the Guardian’s guild will make cameo appearances, but I claim NO RIGHTS to the Guardian’s or any of the characters who appear. They all belong to @theshatteredrose. The only characters that I own are the ones from Guild Halo, and I hope you come to love them as much as I do! - Amelia

~~~~~

No one ever truly realizes how connected they are, not only to their personal families, but to those around them, and even to the earth beneath their shoes, the towering trees that rose so high into the sky that all you would be able to see when you looked up was a thick canopy that barely allowed the streams of golden light to shine through, allowing for little flowers to soak up that sun and grow in even the most shadowed of places.

It was all a matter of perspective. If you took that moment to think, to understand, you would be awed to discover that every living creature, human or otherwise, are all connected by some cosmic, unexplainable string of fate, shining a million different colors, and binding together even the most unsuspecting of broken hearts and blood shot eyes.

My head hurts… why does my head hurt? Did I get hit? What hit me?

Nothing made sense, nothing in the large area was familiar to the young man who was struggling to walk, stumbling over protruding roots, weakened by something he couldn’t see, something he couldn’t remember. All he understood was how badly his head was aching, something thick and hot was dripping down the right side of his temple and down his face to his cheek.

The palms of his hands had been scraped up badly by the rough surface of the tree trunks he would fall against, bracing his numb body against the towering trees for a long moment before his head stopped spinning and he remembered how to walk again, taking a few staggering steps forward before slamming against another trunk.

His vision was blurring in and out of focus right around the edges, and there were wisps of light green hanging in his eyes, but he couldn’t tell if it was from the foliage of the heavy woods around him, or his own hair. Was it his hair? Gosh, he couldn’t seem to recall what color his hair even was. Why wouldn’t he be able to remember something so simple and obvious as that?

The more he walked, the more confused and panicked he became. Where was he? Why was he stumbling around like a newborn? Why did his head hurt so badly? His entire body felt so heavy, but there was this voice at the back of his head, a familiar voice, screaming at him, telling him to run, don’t stop, find the guards, find someone, but he was so confused.

Why did he have to find guards? What guards? He was so tired, so dizzy, he didn’t care about finding any guards or soldiers, he wanted to stop running so he could rest. Things would make more sense once he’d rested some. Staggering from between two towering trees, his eyes fell upon a large clearing, so inviting with the clovers on the ground and the little purple flowers blooming from between the green. It was beautiful, and perfect, and after managing a few more steps he fell to his knees, then promptly onto his hands, heavy pants burning through his lungs as his shoulders heaved.

Green hair fell over his shoulders and veiled around his face, blocking out his view of the clearing and pooling onto the ground beneath his head. It was light green in color, like lime or mint, and he couldn’t help but stare at it numbly, feeling utterly baffled. Was that his hair? It was long, why was it so long? Did he like it long? Wouldn’t that naturally get in his way? His eyes turned away from his hair and instead locked onto a tiny spot of red that had appeared suddenly on one of the clover leaves.

Curious, he lifted one of the hands that were planted against the ground and instead reached out to touch the little spot before turning his hand so his palm was facing him, and stared at the red smeared across his fingers, eyes growing wide when another spot appeared on the heel of his palm, then another, dripping down his wrist.

It took him a moment to slowly raise his trembling hand to his head, a hitch catching in his throat when he felt a hot substance cover his fingers, pulling his hand away to see it was covered entirely in red blood.

So, he was hurt after all. He did get hit. But hit by what? How bad was the wound? What should he do? Most importantly, why couldn’t he remember? He sat back on his heels and carefully pushed his hair away from his face to keep it out of the wound, his eyes panning around the area to see if he could recognize anything, idly wondering where he was and how he got there in the first place.

His vision was still blurring at the edges, his head ached, he was so tired. That’s right, he was going to lie down, because he was tired. He was bleeding, but it didn’t appear to be too bad, and it wasn’t bleeding heavily enough to concern him. Surely resting for a little would be good for him, right?

It was a trial to lie down on his side, as his whole body felt strange, lagging in a way, but the cool feel of the clover against his cheek was soothing, and he instantly started to relax and sink into the natural bedding, his eyes drooping as he felt something hot carve between his eyes from his temple.

God, he was so tired, so dizzy. Just… a few moments of shut eye. Then he’d be perfectly fine. He would wake up and remember everything that had happened and why he was wounded so severely. Sleep would be perfect. His energy would be renewed, the bleeding stopped completely, maybe… maybe he would even be able to trek back the way he came to see if anyone else had been hurt besides him.

Surely, he hadn’t been alone. He could feel it, somehow there was this ache in his chest, this feeling of loss, of terror and fear, he knew, even if he couldn’t remember it, that there had been others with him. He had to find them. After. After a few moments of rest.

While he laid there, slowly fading from consciousness, he was blissfully unaware of the novice guild trekking through that same forested area. Their bold leader had broken away from the main group, and was sweeping around the perimeter with a sharp eye, carefully easing his way between the trees and searching for any sign of danger, any monster or foe that could put his friends in harm’s way.

Instead of finding an enemy, when he stepped between two trees and into the clearing, he found someone lying unconscious in the clovers. A young man, possibly in his late teens, with soft features and long light green hair that was fanned around him, knotted in places, his bangs stained red, pale green leaves stuck through it, likely from trudging through the forests of the Labyrinth.

He appeared to be unconscious, and as the protector came closer he was distressed to find that the red in his hair was in fact blood, which was streaking down over the young man’s face from a terrible wound on his head. His clothes were ragged, dirty, and stained in mud and blood, torn in some spots, and suspiciously without any armor, weapons, or supplies at all.

What fool would come into the Labyrinth without any way to protect himself? The protector knelt at the unconscious stranger’s head and reached out to carefully push his bangs to the side, revealing the wound clearly, starting from just above his left eyebrow and dragging crookedly across his forehead to his left temple, where it buried into his hairline and finally stopped just above his ear.

It was such a raggedly made gash, there was no doubt it would leave a scar, no matter how good of a medic treated him. The wound itself, however, appeared… somewhat unusual. At first glance the protector would have assumed it had been made by hitting the ground, or perhaps an outcropping of jagged boulders, but now that he was closer, he saw no debris in the wound. Indeed, it was a very uneven cut, bleeding heavily and deep enough that his heart was pounding in panic, but it was a relatively clean injury.

“Dyria!” the protector heard his younger brother’s voice call for him, and lifted his head up with a heavy frown before calling back.

“I’m here! The clearing just to the east!”

“What the hell are you doing there?!” Dyria heard the bushes rustle and twigs snap as the other three of his guild started to make their way towards him.

Dyria just turned his head back down to the strange young man, carefully rolling him onto his back and looking slowly over his body for any other wounds, but besides a few scratches and scrapes, the gash to his head was the worst. He carefully slipped his arm just beneath the poor boy’s shoulders, propping him up and cringing as his head hung just over his forearm, green hair hanging in his face.

There were leaves stuck in his long hair, so Dyria reached over to brush them away, picking them out and lifting one, twisting the stem in curiosity as the pleasant, strong scent filled his nose, “Sage…,” he mumbled before looking up, “I found someone!” he called, “He’s hurt!”

“What?” his brother breathed, breaking through the trees with the other two members of their guild, “Holy shit.”

Their brown-haired medic stepped around Dyria’s brother and hurried forward, kneeling beside the injured stranger, and reaching out to tap his cheek a few times, “Was he unconscious when you found him?”

“Yes. I don’t know if he has a concussion, but I’d assume he does just by looking at how bad it is. He’s breathing, though.”

“Which is a good sign,” the medic agreed, digging around in his bag and pulling out a clean gauze pad, using it to dab at the wound gently, “It’s pretty deep. We need to get him to the hospital in town.”

“Can you do anything for him?” Dyria asked, and the medic pressed his lips into a thin line before searching his bag and coming back with a bottle of medica, staring down at it.

“I can clean the wound with this, but… it would work best if he could drink some, and with his head wound, I’d feel better if he was awake. At least until we know the severity of his condition.”

“Want me to wake him up?” the survivalist standing behind Dyria asked, and Dyria rolled his eyes before reaching up and patting the unconscious boy’s cheek a few times.

“Hey, are you alive? I need you to wake up.”

Everyone tensed up when his eyebrows furrowed, and a pained moan caught in his throat as he rolled his head towards Dyria, pinching his eyes tighter before slowly easing them open to reveal stunning magenta iris’. They were glassy and unfocussed as the young man rolled his head back and looked up, his eyes catching with Dyria’s and filling with what could only be confusion.

“Who…”

“Dyria, my name is Dyria. You’re safe. Can you tell us your name?”

He seemed to be assessing Dyria’s words before he furrowed his brow again, “I… can’t remember.”

“That’s to be expected,” the medic assured, lifting a hand, and pushing green hair away from the wound so he could go back to cleaning the blood away from it, “With a head injury like this, things are sure to be fuzzy.”

“No, I… can’t remember anything.”

“Full amnesia?” Dyria questioned, and the medic nibbled on his lip before offering the young man a smile.

“It’s alright now, we’ll look after you. My name is Emery, I’m a medic. The survivalist there is Iliad, and the troubadour is Vien. Are you sure you can’t remember your name?”

The stranger barely shook his head, and Emery hummed a little, looking distressed as he turned away from the wound and soaked a clean pad of gauze with medica, handing the bottle to Dyria before holding the cloth against the wound.

“Have him drink that,” he ordered, taking the boy’s chin with his fingers and tugging at it to part his lips, “Carefully,” he smiled in reassurance, “You need to drink this medica, it will help you.”

Pink eyes flashed to Dyria as he placed the lip of the bottle against the boy’s mouth, tipping it so the elixir could pour steadily into his throat. He didn’t jerk or try to refuse the medicine, luckily, but he looked so exhausted there was probably no way he could anyway.

“Good,” Emery pushed back the green hair and smiled a little warmer, “Now, what should we call you?”

“He’s not a pet,” Iliad scoffed, and Dyria looked up at Emery.

“Sage,” he said, and Emery tipped his head to the side.

“Why?”

“This was in his hair,” Dyria lifted the leaf, then looked around the area, “It must have gotten tangled somewhere else, because I can’t see any in the clearing. Maybe we can figure out what happened to him with this.”

“Sage, huh?” Vien repeated, leaning over Emery to stare down at the boy now dubbed Sage, who was looking around at all of them appearing confused, “I think it suits him.”

“You’re all idiots,” Iliad chided, walking around his older brother to stand behind Vien, “Let’s just hurry back to town before he dies, unless you want to try healing him here, Emery.”

The medic bristled, his face paling as he shook his head, “No, we need to get him to Dr Stiles. I… I can’t do it on my own.”

Dyria frowned at the medic, “Em-.”

“Let’s go,” Emery interrupted as he stood, “Can you carry him?”

“Yes,” Dyria assured, hooking his right arm beneath Sage’s knees and carefully pulling his limp body to his chest before standing up, “Iliad, activate an Ariadne Thread. We’re not too far from the stairs, but the sooner we’re back in Lagaard the better.”

“Right,” Iliad pushed at Vien to get him closer to the group, reaching for the thread around his wrist.

Sage was in a state of confusion as the foliage of the woods gave way to open sky that was bright blue and dotted with clouds. The man holding him, Dyria, was wearing armor, so he wasn’t exactly the most comfortable to be lying against, but in his current condition, nothing would be particularly comfortable.

“Sage,” Dyria jostled him, and Sage furrowed his brow in confusion, “What class of explorer are you? Can you remember? What happened to your guild?”

“Dyria, don’t push him,” Emery chided, “You can tell just by looking at him, he probably doesn’t even have a guild anymore.”

“Hell, maybe he never had one,” Iliad added, “Maybe he’s just a civilian who got too curious.”

“The guards wouldn’t let that happen,” Vien argued, “I don’t think.”

“I’m just trying to keep him awake until we get him to the hospital,” Dyria explained before looking down at Sage, “So?”

Sage shook his head, “I don’t know. M-my head…”

“Do you remember anything at all?” Emery asked, and Sage bit onto his bottom lip.

“Yellow,” he said softly, “Yellow eyes. I remember… screaming, and running, and… blood…,” Sage started to tremble, his eyes wide, “I can’t… remember…”

“Easy, you’re okay,” Dyria tried to soothe him, tightening his hold and bowing his head a little, “You’re safe.”

Sage nodded his head, looking around at the other guild members who had wandered ahead. There were only four of them, and he looked over each of them as carefully as his dizzy mind would allow. With the uncertainty of what had taken place and the frustrating lack of memories, Sage had to concentrate on something, anything, besides himself.

The medic, Emery, was rather simple looking, with pale brown hair and dark, striking orange eyes. Sage would go as far as to call him plain, boring almost, but there was this look in his eyes, haunted in a way, hiding something that defined him, and not in a good way.

The troubadour, Vien, had more of an eccentric look to him. Dark pink hair that grew out to his shoulders, styled with half of it pulled up and tied at the very back of his head with a silk red ribbon, a lute hanging at his back and playful silver eyes that gave him a rather pleasant and cheerful demeanor.

Iliad was the survivalist, sporting messy black hair that had several sections braided, one behind his right ear, one hanging just in front of his left and framing his face, a few others hidden at the back and sides. His eyes were a dark blue color, and he didn’t look particularly friendly, but Sage figured he would rather spend time with an unsociable explorer rather than whatever had done this to him.

The fourth and last member of the guild that had essentially saved his life was the protector, Dyria. His hair was a similar ink black color as Iliad’s, thick and feathered on his head, and his eyes were a piercing green color like lime. His skin, like Iliad’s, had a rather creamy caramel tone to it, as if they’d grown up somewhere with a lot of sun, or perhaps inherited it from a parent with dark skin, but it was very appealing to the eye, and Sage found himself staring.

He must have been somewhat older than Sage, he just had that weathered and timely heaviness to his eyes, a maturity that surpassed most others his age, and there was barely noticeable dark stubble along his jaw that made him look even more like a busy explorer of the Labyrinth.

It was difficult to keep his eyes on Dyria, as his vision was continuously coming in and out of focus, blurring at the edges and darkening before clearing back up so he could make out the color of Dyria’s eyes. With so much going on, it somehow made Sage feel secure and safe to be near a protector.

He couldn’t remember much of himself, or what had happened that day, or even yesterday, or his own name or even how old he was, but he remembered scraps, random bits and pieces, all of them scattered and distorted, possibly not even true, but there was something in his head telling him protectors were safe, they could be trusted, so he gladly curled into Dyria’s arms.

“Guild,” he mumbled, his throat dry and his voice whispered, “Your guild…”

“What about it?” Dyria looked down at Sage, who slowly lifted his gaze up to meet his green eyes.

“What do you call it?”

“Nothing,” Dyria shrugged, “Not yet at least. We’re rookies, noobs, this was only our fifth time in the Labyrinth. We’ve got a few ideas, but we can’t seem to agree on anything, so we’ve just been an unnamed guild for the few weeks we’ve been here,” he looked back down at Sage, “What about your guild?”

Sage frowned, “Mine…,” his eyes drooped a little, “I don’t know.”

Dyria eyed him for a moment before looking back up, “You’ll remember eventually. Just try to be optimistic. Maybe someone from the hospital will recognize you.”

That was possible, but the uncertainty of it all made Sage feel sick, wrapping his arms around himself and lying his head heavily against the cold metal armor on Dyria’s shoulder. Everything would be okay. It had to be. Sage… didn’t want to think of the bad things right now, the darkness that was suddenly surrounding him.

He was scared, but when he looked up, the sun was just beginning to rise, casting rays of golden light streaking across the sky, hitting the clouds and turning them into a gorgeous dark purple pool. The light itself seemed to be backing Dyria, making it appear as if there was a ring of gold surrounding him, outlining his face and his dark hair and making him look almost angelic.

Yea, it may have been scary, but Sage felt calm. Dyria could be trusted. He had to believe that this protector would take care of him, bring him to the hospital and make sure he could find whatever ties he had to Lagaard so he could start to heal, start to remember who he really was, maybe even find his guild, because there was no way he had entered the Labyrinth on his own. Sage may have been suffering from amnesia, but he knew he wasn’t an idiot.

He would be okay. Somehow.

[acciidental]

ALL of the numbers. All of them.

1: NameSam2: Age213: 3 FearsLetting life pass me by/missing out, inadequacy, my own temporariness 4: 3 things I loveMy friends, my cat, music5: 4 turns onWhy are these questions always in here.. hard pass6: 4 turns offTurns off... again, hard pass7: My best friendI have many - but Phoebe is my ride or die yo (doesn’t mean I don’t love the rest of y’all dearly)8: Sexual orientationPansexual9: My best first dateUh...I haven’t been on many like “official” dates but seeing The Desolation of Smaug was a pretty great night overall, even though I almost died10: How tall am I5′7′’11: What do I missMy cat 12: What time were I bornIn a time when grammar wasn’t this butchered - I actually don’t know the time, but for some reason 7:21 is coming to mind but I don’t know day or night... 13: Favorite colorGrey14: Do I have a crushSuch a bullshit question - no15: Favorite quote“If you’re going through hell, keep going”16: Favorite placeVenice17: Favorite foodPotatoes18: Do I use sarcasmAbsolutely not (fuckin’ duh)19: What am I listening to right nowStay by Zedd20: First thing I notice in new personUsually their shoes tbh 21: Shoe size8 in women’s sizes 7 in men’s22: Eye coloramber (brown)23: Hair colorbrown24: Favorite style of clothingFuckboy aesthetic 25: Ever done a prank call?Dumb ones, yes27: Meaning behind my URLAccidents happen - the best things in life happen to us accidentally28: Favorite movieKingsman29: Favorite songSend Me On My Way by Rusted Root30: Favorite bandTwenty One Pilots31: How I feel right nowTired32: Someone I loveThis is super general - I love a lot of people. Love you Amelia, even if I’m almost 100% certain you’re the bastard that sent me this “ALL THE THINGS” ask33: My current relationship statusSingling no mingling34: My relationship with my parentsShaky35: Favorite holidayHalloween 36: Tattoos and piercing i haveCatilige on left ear, double nostril, and lipI have “Don’t go where I can’t follow”, “Ad astra”, “I am”, “I’m taking over my body”, a serotonin molecule, a ; with a - through it, the antipossession seal from Supernatural, a halfsleeve of trees, and a piece on my thigh of my own design based on Migraine by Twenty One Pilots (it’s complicated to explain in writing)37: Tattoos and piercing i wantToo fucking many - I want my industrial done really bad though, and I’d love to get my ears re-pierced so I can stretch them again38: The reason I joined TumblrI don’t actually know - probably social pressures39: Do I and my last ex hate each other?I fuckin’ hope not, she’s my best friend40: Do I ever get “good morning” or “good night ” texts?Like every day, I’m very lucky41: Have I ever kissed the last person you texted?I don’t even know the last person I actually texted but I’m pretty sure it was Blake and I haven’t kissed Blake - that would be creepy and weird since he’s like twice my age42: When did I last hold hands?In Europe, but for like “HEY LOOK AT THIS LET’S GO THIS WAY” purposes, not like legit hand holding - otherwise the last time I actually held someone’s hand was a while ago43: How long does it take me to get ready in the morning?Depends - if I actually get ready then like half an hour (shower, clothes, food, pack for the day), but if I “get ready” then like 5 minutes (crawl out of bed, hat, pack)44: Have You shaved your legs in the past three days?I did actually45: Where am I right now?In my apartment in Turku, Finland46: If I were drunk & can’t stand, who’s taking care of me?Usually I’m the one taking care of people, even if I’m drunk haha - so I got this47: Do I like my music loud or at a reasonable level?I like my music loud at appropriate intervals48: Do I live with my Mom and Dad?No49: Am I excited for anything?Currently I’m excited for volleyball tonight50: Do I have someone of the opposite sex I can tell everything to?Yep, quite a few actually51: How often do I wear a fake smile?What kind of bullshit questions are these, honestly - this ain’t some pity party52: When was the last time I hugged someone?Leaving Ark at the airport53: What if the last person I kissed was kissing someone else right in front of me?That’s not my problem because it’s not my business54: Is there anyone I trust even though I should not?Probably?55: What is something I disliked about today?Waking up early and almost falling asleep before I needed to leave56: If I could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?Tyler Joseph57: What do I think about most?I don’t really keep track of the frequency of my thoughts58: What’s my strangest talent?I can do the wave with my tongue59: Do I have any strange phobias?Nope60: Do I prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?I prefer to be behind it61: What was the last lie I told?I don’t fuckin’ remember - everything kinda blurs together62: Do I prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online?Webcams are easy cuz you can multitask, phones are a little more annoying in that sense63: Do I believe in ghosts? How about aliens?Yes and yes64: Do I believe in magic?Uh.. hard to say really65: Do I believe in luck?Yep66: What’s the weather like right now?Snowy, windy, cold67: What was the last book I’ve read?Milk and Honey68: Do I like the smell of gasoline?Absolutely not69: Do I have any nicknames?A few - 5am, samus, sammi, etc70: What was the worst injury I’ve ever had?I broke my wrist, knocked a vertebrae out of alignment, pinched all the muscles between two vertebrae, and had several impact bruises71: Do I spend money or save it?I tend to save money as much as possible 72: Can I touch my nose with a tongue?Nope73: Is there anything pink in 10 feet from me?I guess my candles are kind pink, otherwise there’s a book cover for a textbook that’s also pretty pink74: Favorite animal?Jellyfish75: What was I doing last night at 12 AM?On the phone, working on a blog post76: What do I think is Satan’s last name is?Something that makes more sense than the phrasing of this question77: What’s a song that always makes me happy when I hear it?Send Me On My Way by Rusted Root78: How can you win my heart?Also a nonsense question - but I demand respect, kindness, compassion, and empathy79: What would I want to be written on my tombstone?“Catch y’all on the flip side” or some shit80: What is my favorite word?I haven’t put a lot of thought into this - but I like the sound of the word “tube”. I guess if I had to pick a favorite word off-hand it would be something simple and vague with many meanings like “if” or “am”81: My top 5 blogs on tumblrfirel1ght, preposterouspotato, bitchcs, tomorrow-is-forever-all-ours, and whatjustwat (I always fuckin butcher the spelling)82: If the whole world were listening to me right now, what would I say?“Is it really so fucking hard to be compassionate and empathetic to people from all walks of life?”83: Do I have any relatives in jail?I don’t actually know for sure, I can’t keep track of everyone84: I accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow me with the super-power of my choice! What is that power?Control over gravitational fields85: What would be a question I’d be afraid to tell the truth on?Good question - probably anything revolving around the state of my mental health86: What is my current desktop picture?Dean Winchester87: Had sex?Nope88: Bought condoms?I’ve been GIVEN condoms89: Gotten pregnant?Nope90: Failed a class?Never91: Kissed a boy?Technically yes92: Kissed a girl?Yep93: Have I ever kissed somebody in the rain?I don’t actually know, probably94: Had job?Much work, many jobs, wow95: Left the house without my wallet?Not typically, but it’s happened a couple times96: Bullied someone on the internet?Hell no97: Had sex in public?The fuck - no98: Played on a sports team?Several99: Smoked weed?Yep100: Did drugs?Other than weed and alcohol? No101: Smoked cigarettes?For a short time, unfortunately102: Drank alcohol?Yep103: Am I a vegetarian/vegan?Nope104: Been overweight?Yep105: Been underweight?Yep106: Been to a wedding?Yep107: Been on the computer for 5 hours straight?Pff like every day108: Watched TV for 5 hours straight?Guilty as charged109: Been outside my home country?FINALLY110: Gotten my heart broken?What fuckin bullshit 111: Been to a professional sports game?Yes112: Broken a bone?Two apparently (that I know of)113: Cut myself?I mean accidents are bound to happen - I cut my fingernail partly in half the other day114: Been to prom?A couple times115: Been in airplane?Yes116: Fly by helicopter?No, almost though117: What concerts have I been to?Shit here we go... Imagine Dragons, Pat Benetar, June Divided, Framing Hanley, Walk the Moon (x2), The Griswolds (x2), We Came as Romans, Misterwives, Urban Cone, X Ambassadors, All Time Low (x3), Odesza, Purity Ring (x3), Hour 24, Halocene, Bastille (x2), Passion Pit, Brand New, Twenty One Pilots (x2), Halsey, Oh Wonder (x2), Paperwhite, Echosmith, Finnish Ticket, Vinyl Theatre, Chef’Special, Braids, Jai Wolf, Rufus Du Sol (x2), Casian, Knuckle Puck, Real Friends, Bishop Briggs... probably missing some here118: Had a crush on someone of the same sex?Yep119: Learned another language?Working on it120: Wore make up?Scarcely 121: Lost my virginity before I was 18?No122: Had oral sex?No123: Dyed my hair?Frequently124: Voted in a presidential election?Unfortunately 125: Rode in an ambulance?Too many times126: Had a surgery?Wisdom teeth127: Met someone famous?A few128: Stalked someone on a social network?I creep on people all the time129: Peed outside?Yeah -more than I’m proud to admit130: Been fishing?Mhm131: Helped with charity?Yes!132: Been rejected by a crush?Probably133: Broken a mirror?Not that I know of134: What do I want for birthday?Patches and tattoo money