#the griever case

[paa-official]

Recording No. 1

Ok, let’s start with where you even come from. And your date of birth, so we can complete your file.

Well, I don’t know my exact date of birth, because I know my birthday by the auroric calendar. But if we convert the shift to the earthly calendar, then I was born in the summer of 1997.

What? Auroric calendar? Is it called after your home planet?

Yes. But it would’ve been my home planet, if I was born one year earlier. My birthplace was the warship Naglfari, where I was born one year after the catastrophe.

What happened to the planet? Was there a global crisis like a global warming?

Well, in history class we were being taught that another species attacked ours to claim Aurora as their own. They said, they came out of nowhere and suddenly began to attack our orbital station around our planet. The communication went down and scout shuttles were sent out, which were destroyed immediately after entering the cosmos.

This was followed by an invasion, which couldn’t be fought off by the griever. It happened so fast that the defense forces could do nothing but keep the intruders at bay. Meanwhile actions were taken to evacuate as many griever as possible and take them off the planet. Even warships were used, like Naglfari. But despite all the weaponry on the ships, only one could escape.

Exactly how Aurora was destroyed, was unclear. Yet there were rumors like a warship, which aided the defense, rammed the main ship of the invaders and hit it’s reactor. At the collision with the planet, the reactor exploded and allegedly tore the planet into pieces.

That was our subject the day before the recruitment. I was 16 years old or 18, if we convert it to your calendar. The only thing I could think about, was this recruitment. The military needed shape shifter, but my hands shivered by the thought that I wouldn’t see my parents or my best friend Luke anymore.

The lights in the classroom went on after the holo-presenation was finished and the class dismissed. The LED-Stripes on the white ceiling illuminated the light gray walls of the room and the dark carbon tables with metallic legs suddenly stood out to the dark blue floor.

I raised my head up from my arms and began packing my stuff. Right after I left the room, Luke snuck up on me. Like every other griever, he also had an ability. He was one of those, who has increased strength.

But why do you have two abilities?

I asked myself that my entire life. Not even my parents could answer me this question. The only thing they told me about it, was to keep it to myself and not tell anybody. So we kept my empathy as a secret.

Anyway, Luke snuck up on me and tapped me on my shoulder, while grinning happily >> So? Ready to stand for our people? <<

His red hair was all messy as if he forgot to brush them. At least he has found the time to wear his white uniform properly.

We went through the busy floor to the yard with the artificial garden >> I don’t know. I’d really like to be useful for our people, but I’m not sure if it’s a good idea to let me out to the battlefield. <<

Luke started laughing and held my shoulder >> Easy there. You may not have my strength, but that doesn’t mean you don’t pack anything. Beside, your mission will be to scout out the planet and gather information about the species that lives there. They won’t even notice you were there. <<

>> And what if I find myself in a fighting position? <<

>> That’s why there is a three year lasting training. <<

We reached the yard and sat down on the bench around the tree in the middle.

>> You think that’s enough? << I asked.

>> It will be more than enough. Don’t shit your pants. You were extremely happy about it, just a few months ago. <<

>> I think it’s some sort of anxiety. Like when you’re fallen in love with someone and turn back right before you decide to tell them, because your heart is racing. <<

Luke nodded as if he knew exactly what I meant. In this very moment our classmate Becka walked right passed us with her friend. She greeted us and we greeted her back. Lukes gaze stayed on her as they kept walking and a slight smile formed on his lips. I noticed that and raised one eyebrow. After he noticed my glance, he innocently asked me >> What? <<

I nodded my head into Beckas direction >> Wanna tell my something? <<

Now Luke was the one, who raised an eyebrow >> What should I tell you? What are you talking about? <<

I started giggling >> It’s alright. You can keep it to yourself. Don’t you worry. I won’t tell anybody. <<

He nudged me with his elbow and a smile in his face >> You may be a little asshole, but you’re still a good friend. <<

I put on a fake, shocked expression >> When was I degraded from best to just a good friend? <<

Luke couldn’t hold it anymore and started laughing.

The rest of the day went more pleasant after Luke cheered me up. However it didn’t change the fact that I wasn’t paying much attention to my classes. Luckily all the exams were over anyway and there was basically nothing to teach us anymore.

Me and Luke had a similar way home, were walked together and talked with each other. But on this day he was quieter the further we went. He tried masking it, but I could tell that something bothered him >> Everything alright? <<

He looked at me like I had drawn him out of his thoughts >> With me? <<

I took a quick look around >> You’re seeing someone else? <<

He smiled >> No, all good. Why are you asking? <<

I tilted my head to the side >> You get quieter the longer the day gets. <<

He stopped and took his hands out of his pockets. I stopped as well and turned to him. Luke briefly exhaled and talked to me >> I think you already know, why I’m worried. <<

I looked surprised at him >> You were the one cheering me up that everything’s gonna be cool. Where do these worries come from? <<

He took a step towards me >> I did that for you. But the thought of me being alone, will not escape my head. I mean, I don’t have another friend like you. And then there is Becka… <<

I forgot about this. She’s also a shape shifter and had to go to the recruitment as well. That’s why I had my doubts about all of this. Even if it was for the good of all of us, family and friends were separated and it hurt everybody, who’s been involved to it.

I laid my hand on his shoulder and looked deep into his eyes >> I’ll tell you this as a good friend. Go to her and tell her everything. If you wait any longer, you’ll regret it. <<

He looked irritated at me >> I can’t do this right now. <<

>> Then when? When she’s in training? <<

Luke sighed and let his head hanging. But then he lifted it up and looked with full confidence in my eyes >> What would I do without you? <<

>> Fuck up your exams. << I said patting him on his shoulder.

The next day I had to go to the recruitment center and get checked. I even left the house early to avoid the tension at home. While my parents were sleeping, I left a note and went on my way.

The military complex looked pretty glorious on the outside as well from the inside. The white, shiny walls had blue LED stripes as accents and the also shiny, black floor build a contrast in the halls. The lighting came from warm white LED lamps on the ceiling, which illuminated the interior. The line got long really fast, but luckily enough, I wasn’t far from the end, because I got there early.

When it was my turn, a woman in an official military uniform greeted me. It was a gray uniform with dark blue and black decorations over it. She had tried to braid her black hair, but they were already loose again.

She pointed me to the next sample booth I had to go in. I closed the door behind me and let the automatic machine scan my body and my physical state. Next I had to go to the psychological evaluation, where the staff asked me questions and wrote my answers down.

After all of this was over, I had go sit in the waiting room and wait for the card, with which I was allowed to join the military or accept my rejection. As soon as I walked there, Becka crossed my path with a bright smile and her own card. She was so happy, that she didn’t even notice me. But I didn’t hold it against her, thinking she wanted to go to Luke and give him these news. At least I was hoping for it.

In the waiting room, I was waiting only five minutes, but they felt so much longer than that. I perceived the noise around me as muffled mumbling. If I hadn’t been accepted, I wouldn’t have been able to contribute to our society, which meant I wasn’t good enough for us.

Then finally someone came in and called out my name. Suddenly all my senses came back, but my voice vanished. I stood up and took what could’ve been my acceptance or rejection.

[subjecta5newtella]

I’m not in a true tmr mental state so I’ll probably do a lot of linking back to posts I made when I was, but Somebody’s gotta make a minho post and as a certified minho analyst I’ll go ahead and do it. movie minho….I love him and he’s a beautiful man but I don’t feel like he has a ton going on. he’s the hot girl he’s the action hero he’s the end goal for tdc but he’s largely sidelined so I don’t feel like he gets to have a tonnnn of interiority. (see the white boy summer rant here if you care about book vs movie minho lmao). book minho fascinates me though because I think he grows tremendously as a character and I think he has a lot of complexity to him.

book minho still has that degree of cool badass action hero to him, and I think he’s brave in some situations (you do have to be brave to be a runner obviously) but I also think he’s a character who deals with a lot of fear in interesting ways. I think he sublimates a lot of that into humor—“if I don’t see you on the other side, remember that I love you” and “I bet you cried every night missing me” come to mind as manifestations of his very real fear of losing thomas (as well as being spectacular thominho moments). I also think his anger comes from the fear of things he can’t control. I’ve already said this better here and in the fic linked in the post so I won’t try to restate it worse, but it fascinates me.

in terms of arc I think his journey towards being an incredibly loyal character is a really good one. he goes from running away when other people are in danger (the night in the maze) to being completely unwilling to abandon his friends even when it puts him in danger himself (the scene with newt at the crank palace).

also I really wish this had been fleshed out more after the first book but I like his capability to be manipulative. aim high hit low scene my beloved. like yeah it’s fun when he beats the shit out of people but I think there’s a lot to be said for the kind of cleverness that enables him to get what he wants in that scene.

I also just really enjoy his dynamics with other characters, specifically thomas and newt. the newt and minho bickering in tst means so much to me both because it’s entertaining and because it reveals a lot about their leadership styles and what the group needs from a leader in different situations (more on that here). he can be a challenging character to learn to write on more than a surface level because he does have the aforementioned complexities, but once you get the hang of him, it’s really fun to set him loose on those dynamics.

anyway. tldr. this post

so, we've know one another for some time now, tmr geeks. tell me, who is your favourite character and why? i need to know and understand it so bad it hurts— and be as LENGTHY as you want, confess your secrets, i love it.

[ebullientheart]

sleep mad. spencer reid x reader

content — hurt comfort. bau!reader. mention of bau case. short fic.

you don’t let spencer leave your hotel room after a fight.

it was a perfectly normal reaction, to storm out for fresh air after a tense argument. spencer didn’t expect you to literally scream ‘no!’ from behind him. he turned on his heel so fast, recognising the fear in your voice from case victims, preparing himself to see you being attacked. he wasn’t prepared for the onslaught of tears, and no criminal presence.

when the two of you disagreed, it was almost always with quiet voices and levelled frustration. this time was no different. neither of you had yelled, cursed, or become enraged. it was irritation and exhaustion at the root of it, and it wasn’t worth the look on your face now. his own eyes shot wide in concern, spencer saw how you visibly trembled in the doorway, despite the evening being uncharacteristically warm, humid even. in the dingy light from the hotel hallway, he could hardly make out the contours of your face, but he could imagine what it must have looked like. why had you shouted?

you swiped messily at the damp rivets dug into your cheeks from the sudden fit of crying, effectively willing yourself to stop as you folded your arms defensively. your voice was wavering but firm as you said, “no. if you want space, i’ll go sit on the fire escape, but you can’t… you can’t leave this late spence.”

he raised a brow at you. usually, he disliked being told what to do, but that clearly wasn’t your intention here. spencer could clearly see the terror on your face, but he couldn’t decipher what you were so afraid of. so, forgetting the rule to not profile each other, he asked. you reached forward and tugged him into the room by his forearm, ever gentle, before spinning away to leave him be. but he didn’t want space anymore, he wanted answers.

“what’s going on?”

knowing you could never successfully lie to spencer, you sighed and dug your hands into your pockets. you felt guilty for not allowing him what he’d needed to cool off, but you couldn’t let him leave like that while working this case. each of the three victims left behind a brokenhearted spouse, each of which you’d been interviewing since eight that morning. the last was the worst, breaking down fully in jj’s arms, wracked with uncontrollable sobbing as they explained the last interaction they’d shared was a verbally vicious fight. their last words were venomous, and no peace was made.

“tell me.” spencer’s demand was soft. he sat on the edge of the hotel bed, and your heart twisted as the new angle enunciated the dark circles stamped beneath his eyes. you were sure you sported a matching pair.

you tried your best not to shut down, to communicate, “we… we see so many grievers. how many tell us that their last conversations were full of anger? they… can’t ever accept what happened, move on, because they never go to say ‘i love you’ that last time. they think the other died hating them. if we’re apart, and something happens, and our last words were just mean…”

he listened as you struggled through your explanation, but when you finally trailed off and dropped eye contact, he stood slowly. you heard him pad across the cheap carpet to get close enough to find the palm of your hand, and you let him take it in his own. a light rain had begun to batter the small window.

“you’re right,” spencer whispered, something you rarely hear when dating a genius, “you’re right. our lives are dangerous. but i don’t want us to fight anyway. i’m sorry.”

you sniffed and tried to not think about how pathetic you sounded when you repeated his final sentence back to him, equally as sincere.

spencer thumbed lightly at the dip between your eye and cheekbone, “i love you. now, and when we fight. i- i always love you.”

again, you echoed his sentiment, accompanying it with the sweetest kiss you could press to his jaw. your fingers curled into his hair, carefully undoing a tangle, and simultaneously undoing every knot of tense muscle in his body.

most couples just worried about going to sleep mad. you weren’t sure what it said that your worries centred around one of you being brutally murdered before making up, but you supposed that unique thought process just came with the territory. there was no blanket pulled over your eyes, the world wasn’t hiding it’s most sinister corners from you. or if it was, you sought them out. but those fears that usually haunted you just melted away when you held spencer. you were just like most couples.

two young adults, completely in love, swaying back and forth to the rhythm of your breaths in a crappy hotel, blissfully ignorant to the residents of the rooms either side of you grumbling about being awoken by your hallway confrontation.

a mess of entwined limbs, you eventually made it to bed, to sleep. one of you, or maybe both, uttered an “i love you” every few minutes. an enforced reminder to linger in your half-asleep state, lulling your minds to rest.

sleep came easy, for once.

[m30wk1ttycat]

stay?

warning, this contains: mentions of death, blood, gore pairing: newt x reader summary: you just lost a friend to a griever, and newt is trying his best to comfort you.

you were a runner - which newt hated, but he couldn't do much about it. being a runner had its risks. a lot of them. but a person can handle the deaths of people you've known most of your time here, blood, stress, anxiety and physical draining for a certain time. today seemed to be your breaking point, when your best friend was ripped to shreds by the griever's robotic claws. bones and organs that should've been hidden under his skin and muscles were revealed, leaving you to watch in shock as the griver tore off his limbs inbetween his agonizing screams.

when you made your way back into the glade, your legs gave up on you when you stepped foot on the grass. falling to your knees, you also burst into tears. newt was the first one to notice you.

he kneeled down infront of you, his hand making its way to your shoulder. "y/n? hey, hey- breathe, hm? in, out, come on."

your chest was heaving, still out of breath from running so fast. that, and the fact that the boy you've grown attached to was dead, somewhere in the maze, laying in a pool of his own blood, with detached limbs.

eventually, you calmed down. only to break down again when newt asked, "what- what's going on? what happened?"

he sighed, realizing you wouldn't be exactly able to tell him what happened. squeezing your shoulder, he said, "we don't have to talk about it, i promise. but i'm here if you want to talk about it, okay?"

you nod, looking up at him. "i'm sorry," you sob.

"no, no, no, don't be. c'mere," he whispered, pulling you into a quick hug - only if twenty minutes is considered quick. he looked at you again, holding you close to him as you sobbed into his shirt.

that night, newt offered to let you stay in his hut, just in case you didn't want to be alone. cuddled up against him, you still couldn't manage to tell him what it was that happened. newt didn't ask questions. he let the subject go - if you wanted to talk about it, you would on your own, if you didn't want to, he wouldn't force you to tell him. but everyone figured that something happened when the runner didn't ever come out of the maze. only that you were the only one who saw that something happen.

the next morning, you woke up, only to realize you slept in. while laying on newt's chest. your legs still hurt from yesterday, and your throat is sore from crying so much.

newt noticed you shift slightly, and he loosened his hold on you.

"morning, love," he whispered, kissing the top of your head.

"morning," you whisper back.

his voice was quiet, almost silent when he asked, "feeling better?"

you nod, "mhm. thank you."

"anything for you," newt said softly, "go back to sleep, okay?"

"what about the maze? i was supposed to run today."

"you're not running today. you slept in, anyway," he murmured, "i promise, i'll take care of everything. just relax."

"you'll stay, right?" you ask. you weren't sure why, but you needed the reassurance that he'd be there with you if you had a nightmare about the whole thing that happened yesterday. he always was, but you wanted him to say it. just to make sure.

"of course. always," he promised, pecking your forehead one last time before your drifted off to sleep again.

[erenfox]

Rating TMR Shipssss

Thomesa (Thomas x Teresa): 147284892/10 i will fight you on this. they were literally so precious and tragic. it was like the universe had decided their destiny, but at the end of the day thomas never stopped loving her and neither did she stop loving him. she betrayed everyone for the greater good but redeemed herself to save HIM. i know she made some extremely questionable choices but goddamn theyre always slept upon. thomesa my beloved, they hated you but i never will 😭💔

Newtmas (Newt x Thomas): 3/10 (i can feel the hate radiating towards me) listen. im completely fine with people going batshit crazy over them. but personally? no. seriously, i never understood the overhype and appeal for newtmas. i can completely understand if newt was in love with thomas all this time, but the idea of them being together? nah. i just never saw any sort of romantic tension between them. like, im not being a full-on hater, but i saw them like platonic soulmates. their friendship is literally to die for (ahem ahem newt ahem 💀) and i wish I had a loyal friend like newt. but romantically? nah.

Trenda (Thomas x Brenda): 5/10 tbh they were pretty mid. i mean i can totally see them ending up together post the death cure, but their chemistry felt too forced at times. their friendship dynamic tho? TOP. TIER.

Thominho (Thomas x Minho): 10/10 the close friendship. the trust they have in each other. the things theyve lived thru together. the lengths thomas went to save minho. if thomas was bisexual hed definitely go for minho. CHEFS KISS AAAA

Nalby (Newt x Alby): 7/10 now this is a newt ship that had sm wasted potential. the fact that alby was the first person ever who newt befriended and trusted. the fact that alby was always stern to everyone BUT newt. the fact that they had one of the strongest mutual trust in the glade. the fact that newt was distraught and ready to throw hands with the grievers after they killed alby in the books. they just didn't have enough time. their dynamic i can't 😭

Newtenda (Newt x Brenda): 8/10 NOW LOOK I KNOW NEWT IS GAY AND I RESPECT THAT but i never knew that while watching the movies and reading the books. like seriously, i thought he was straight for the longest time, and the idea of newt ending up with brenda is weirdly wholesome to me. they share similar experiences of going thru hell while being infected and idk i just enjoy this ship very much. if newt wasn't gay, he shouldve definitely ended up with brenda lmao

Brenally (Brenda x Gally): 6/10 same case as newtenda, but they needed more development. otherwise post tdc theyd be so cute :3

Minally (Minho x Gally): 4/10 nah. just, nope. i can see strong friendship and respect for each other throughout tmr and post tdc, but as a ship... pretty bland so nope.

Minewt (Minho x Newt): 8/10 oh yep. absolutely. theyve known each other maybe not as long as nalby, but the things they went thru in tst and tdc... and the efforts newt was ready to make to save minho- like my boi was freaking infected but he chose to focus on saving minho over himself 😭 and minhos reaction on seeing newts dead body just 💔 if this ain't peak idk what is...

Sonyaris (Sonya x Aris): 9/10 best friends? check. immediate relief on finding the other was alive? check. her taking care of him when he got injured? check. him standing up for her? check. both survived the horrific events thrown upon at them? check. what's there not to like?? they just needed more screentime together lol

Thomally (Thomas x Gally): 2/10 nope. too much toxicity, if im being honest. i mean, they did end up working together and becoming somewhat friends at the end, but idts thomas would ever be able to forgive gally for killing chuck. chuck was basically thomas' baby brother. im sure thomas, despite having gotten over chuckie's death, still finds it extremely unfair how gally got saved but chuck didn't.

Java/Avanson (Janson x Ava): 147284892/10 OMFG YESSIRRRRR I JUST LOVE AND ADORE THIS SHIP LIKE WDYM THIS ISN'T CANON HUH LIKE THEY WOULD TOTALLY TRY TO STAB EACH OTHER AND THEN MAKE OUT WOOHOOO (ive gone insane.)

[ashley-foster-13]

Group S Girls

DISCLAIMER: this is an imagine inspired by the Maze Runner trilogy. none of this is an actual part of the trilogy. just a few fanfictional stories :)

Another crooked experiment of WICKED scientists miserably failed. However, it left behind some not-so-miserable girls from Group S. Scattered around the continent, they have to fight for freedom, love and hope for a better future. For any future at all.

Subject S45. The Misfit. June.

- June was a runner back in the Glade

- she's emotional and resilient, never gives up her cause

- when she first had to kill, she realised for the first time in her life that, maybe, life was never gonna be the way she wanted

- it never felt like her life belonged to her. she was a misfit in her own life.

- she's scared

- once she's met a cat, which eventually became her friend. she calls her Natalie

- she lives in tunnels, sneaking outside to search for some weapons or food or medicine

- one memory she managed to dig out from the back of her mind is, she's prone to heart attacks. any second might be her last

- that is why she still hates the girls who fed themselves to the grievers on purpose. they had all the chances to survive, but in June's case, any second can be her last

- till this day, she's still running, running for her life

WRITERS! If any of you have some ideas, I'll be extremely excited to read your stories about the girls! ;)

[msegirl]

Where Is She?

The Maze Runner Oneshot

(fem reader x thomas)

Summary: Your friend, Thomas, can’t find you, and the rest of the Gladers are afraid to tell them what’s happened to you.

Notes: In this case, you arrived to the Glade before Thomas. You are a runner, and he’s isn’t one yet.

Y/N’s POV:

As the walls to the maze opened, I looked back to Thomas and waved. Then I went in.

Today was just supposed to be the normal routine. Enter the maze, explore, map, try to look for the way out and then head back. As I jogged with Minho, I started to hear a mechanical whirring sound. A Griever. Just as I was about to nudge Minho, he pulled me to the side of the wall and put a finger to his mouth. I looked around, but couldn’t find where the sound was actually coming from. Just as I turned my head to my left to check another section of the maze, a huge alien looking face was staring right at me.

Just as I was about to scream, it grabbed me with one of its mechanical arms. I watched as Minho sprung into action and grabbed his weapon. While he poked and prodded at the giant monster, I tried my best to squirm free from its grasp. I was fighting for my life, and it was draining the energy from me. Fast. I was so tired, and decided it wasn’t worth it anymore. As sad as I would be to leave my friends in the Glade, I’d finally be free from this shithole of a world. I go limp, and that’s when I feel it. A large prick. Like a giant needle had poked me. And that’s where I lost consciousness.

Thomas’s POV:

After eating breakfast and doing my chores, I decided to take a nap in my cot. There wasn’t much to do around the Glade today, so there wouldn’t be any harm done. (Y/N) and Minho wouldn’t be back till later, so there really wasn’t much point in staying awake. Especially since I was so tired. I barely got any sleep last night. It’s hard to sleep knowing you live within a maze filled with monsters.

I must have been asleep for hours, because it’s almost dark by the time I wake up. I yawn, stretch and get up. Everyone is still milling around the Glade, but not Newt and Alby. Chuck comes up to me, probably ready to start bugging me about something stupid, but he has a grim look on his face.

“What’s up Chuck?”, I ask.

“Newt and Alby told me to get you up. They want you in the Homestead. They called a Gathering or something”, he shrugs.

I start to walk towards the Homestead, before looking back to Chuck.

“You coming?”, I ask.

He shakes his head.

I shrug, and head over to the Homestead.

As soon as I enter through the door, I’m met with the eyes of many faces.

I walk over to Newt.

“What’s going on?”

Gally answers instead.

“Sit down, Greenie.”

I shoot him a glare and sit down.

As soon as I sit down, I see Minho. I’m about to ask him why he’s back so early, when Alby enters the room.

“Listen up.”

At the sound of Alby’s voice, all eyes leave me, and start to watch him.

Alby picks something up off the table and holds it in front of his body. I can’t tell what it is, and by the looks of it, neither can anybody else.

“This was brought back by Minho. If you can’t tell what is is, it’s a Griever stinger.”

I look over to Minho again, and this time notice he’s got blood on his face and hands, and what appear to be small wounds on his arms.

He looks back at me, with a grim expression on his face.

That’s when I realize that (Y/N) isn’t in the room.

I turn back to Alby.

“Where’s (Y/N)?”

“I’m getting to that, Thomas, just hold o-.”

“No, Alby. I won’t hold on. Where is she?”

Newt exchanges a look with both Alby and Minho, and then sighs, and looks at me.”

“Relax, Tommy. She’ll be okay.”

At those words, my stomach drops.”

“What do you mean she’ll ‘be okay’? Shuck, just tell me what happened.”

Minho gets up and walks over to me.

“(Y/N) was stung, but she-“

I don’t even let him finish. As soon as he says “stung”, I’m running to go up the stairs.

Just as I’m about to step onto the first step, Gally steps in front of me.

“Woah there, Greenie. You can’t go up there.”

“Get out of my way, Gally.”

He doesn’t budge. Just keeps staring down at me.

I decide to try and push past him. After several unsuccessful attempts, Newt finally pulls Gally away.

“Just let him.”

I walk up the stairs and into the room (Y/N) is being kept in. As soon as I enter, I’m met with a grisly sight. I see (Y/N), and she’s alive, but she looks awful. She’s pale and has dark veins all along her body. There are cuts and bruises on just about every part of exposed skin that I can see. I also notice that she’s strapped down to the bed.

I want to get a closer look, but Alby and Newt step inside the room and make me leave.

The next few days are agonizing. I’m not allowed back into the room, but we can all hear her shrieks and screams from all across the Glade.

One day, as I’m eating breakfast, Chuck runs up to me with a wide grin on his face.

“She’s awake!”

(Y/N)’s POV:

I open my eyes, and to my surprise, I feel good. My body doesn’t hurt anymore. I start to feel some memories coming back to me, but I try to not let them get in the way right now.

Not even five minutes after I wake up, Thomas runs into the room, which startles me.

I jump a little.

“Hello to you too.”

At this, he relaxes himself a little and sits down next to me.

“Hey”, he says

I smile.

“Hi.”

I notice that he is examining my body.

“I look brand new, huh?”

He looks back to me.

“Just a few days ago, you-“

“Yeah, I know. I’ve seen the Changing happen before, Thomas”, I laugh.

He smiles at me.

“How do you feel?”

“Okay”, I shrug.

He frowns a little.

“I was so worried about you.”

I look at him with a look of skepticism in my eyes.

“You were?”

He crinkles his eyebrows.

“Of course I was. Why wouldn’t I be?”

I shrug.

“I mean, we’ve only known each other for a week.”

He looks me in the eyes and says,

“And I’ve grown to care about you during our week together.”

With those words, I lean up on my elbows and lightly kiss him.

After a slight look of suprise in his eyes, he kisses me back.

We pull away, and I smile and say,

“Ditto.”

[funficwriter]

Celestial is Cruel (Tartaglia/Childe x Recruit!Reader)

A/N: Not much, apart from the fact that damn I got some... Fantasies. Fucked up ones but I'd be lying if I said I didn't have a blast writing it. Hopping on to part 2!

Warnings: Sad, disrespect of graves, abuse of power, slight motif of punishment, kinda yandere, horny Tartaglia with even worse timing, talk of a dead friend.

He hated every single thing about this ordeal. The uncomfortable position on the tree was the least of them. At least it offered a good view of you.

He hated how you wailed like a child, because his sweet little recruit shouldn't be sad. He hated how you were laying on the tombstone, arms splayed out as if hugging your dearly departed friend, because such a passionate embrace should only be for him. He hated the flowers you got him tonight, because they symbolized mourning.

He hated it all, because you were giving everything... Your emotions, attentions, presence and more... To another man.

A dead one, too. Really, now! This is how you spent your free nights the last few weeks? Did they stop teaching cadets to not be too attached to each other? That the Fatui had death everyday?

No matter. As your Lord, he was going to put an end to this. He was going to put you back on the right path as a recruit. His recruit.

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

Deeper into the icy woods, laid your friend's grave. It was particularly hard to get to by virtue of being so nestled.

One wouldn't have to go as deep to hear you. It's been weeks and you still have such nights, wailing and apologizing to your companion of years. You also never dared an appearance without flowers, even if he wouldn't mind.

Your body felt cold against the tombstone. You could never pinpoint the exact time that you laid down in this manner, arms sore from sprawling them out across the stone. Perhaps once you stopped denying his death. But what really took your energy was your crying.

"I'm sorry, Julian! I'm sorry, I should have taken that hit, and you should be here! I'm sorry, forgive me...".

When you two were cadets, you were constantly warned about the possibility of losing your comrade. You were told, time and time again, 'don't get too attached to each other'. But hearing it in the classroom was worlds different than facing it. You two would laugh about it and drink afterwards, bantering back and forth:

"If I die, you better bring hyacinths instead of roses! I hate those spiral-ey shits!"

"In that case, you better tell me who's dating who over a bottle of fire-water! You can splash it on my tombstone!"

"Forget this old graveyard etiquette, you can chill out on mine if you need to get away from everyone else!"

Now here you were, with this banter being closer to reality.

Forget your status within the Fatui. Forget the heightened expectation of 'getting over' your friend because 'this happens everyday, it's part of our job'. Forget the potential displeasure of your Harbinger; You knew you were going to face his wrath at some point, but for now, you just needed some space to be a messy griever, consequences to be damned and faced.

"Julian... I don't wanna go back yet. I want to stay a bit more...".

"Y/N.".

Of course he'd seek you out. You tried to adhere to your usual duties, but it was obvious that you needed a bit more time to get back on par. Especially by his standards.

His hulking shadow engulfed your figure, even more so as he bent down to your level. You felt his hand patting your shoulder and looked up to meet his eyes.

"There, there. At least we both know that he died for the Tsaritsa's cause. The most honorable way to go.".

You sniffled: "But he was so young... We still count as fresh recruits, and he was always so resilient...".

"Yes, I know that. Julian was a remarkable unit, and a fine comrade...".

His hand could never remain in one place for too long, least of all if your body's concerned. You wanted to smack him when you felt it slide down to waist level, waiting for more. You were expecting this, but right on Julian's resting place? Really?

"But remember, my dear, that this isn't clerking; This is the Fatui. Great units are still at high risk, no matter how powerful they are...".

It wasn't fully here yet, but you knew where all of this was going. How could you not? You've been performing at a 'sub-par' level in comparison to your usual, you've spaced out thinking of Julian more than a few times, and though you did your best, many who came in contact with you swore up and down that eyes could never look as glossy as those of you losing your friend. All behavior unfitting for Tartaglia's prodigy.

It was very obvious that something has changed, and this will affect your Lord as well. He can't let you keep this up; It's his job as your superior to rectify this in whatever way he sees fit. A messy, moping recruit wasn't a good asset to have.

And you knew Lord Tartaglia - Childe, how fitting. If said way could bring him some sort of fun or pleasure, he was going to take it. For it to involve his sweet, little overachieving soldier? Well, the constant lip-licking was expected.

So did the wandering hand, pulling himself a little closer to you. Now your waist was almost encircled by his arm.

"I'm not saying you're bad for feeling like this. You're human. But you both knew what you signed up for. I myself has a couple of near-death experiences and lost comrades, and I'm a Harbinger.".

He could soften his tone all he wanted. You knew this talk was rehearsed. It sounded too much like his usual cold reading voice. You'd assume someone who felt your pain would be a little more empathetic, more supportive. But him? He was doing a horrible job hiding the excitement in his eyes, the prospect of 'putting you in line'. You looked down; The tent in his pants further told you what you needed to know. What did it matter if your face was still blotchy from crying?

You backed away while asking: "Lost comrades?".

"Yup. Ya know, I had this friend, Antony, who I bunked with back in our cadet days. He always sang for us at parties. Really fun guy. We also talked about our families so you can bet we were close.".

"What happened to him?".

The acting was losing whatever little effort it had: "Burned to death. I mourned too, I liked him a lot. But this is part of the job. This can be expected any day, any mission, and our friends aren't exempt by being loved.".

He made a good point. Julian wasn't going to be spared, and if his power couldn't save him, your friendship certainly wouldn't.

Celestia is cruel.

You looked up to Childe's face: "Anything you want to say?".

"Celestia is cruel. And so are you right now.".

Did you screw yourself over with the second part? You weren't intending on saying it out loud, but repression and your mind being on your friend 6 feet under will have you doing that.

He chuckled and decided that the waiting game was over. He got up on the tombstone, looming over you. Though you've stared into his empty blue eyes a lot, you never manage to shake off that mix of morbid wonder and fear at how... Soulless they were. Did Antony notice too?

"Me?".

"I'm sorry, my Lord, but yes. I'm mourning right now. Can we wait until we're in your quarters, because it's a grave...?".

You didn't have the energy to defend yourself more fiercely. Though you were still relatively young (at least by Fatui standards), your tonality belonged to a retired officer who's seen too much in one life.

You didn't defend yourself physically either. You didn't stop Childe from laying you down onto the stone, nor did you really admonish his lust on top of your friend's grave. You wanted to, but for one, he could easily overpower you, maybe even get harsher under the pretense of 'not obeying your Lord'. Paired up with your tired body, you felt helpless.

"You're correct, Y/N. Celestial is cruel. So cruel for seeing two adorable recruits, so dependent on each other... Then snatching one and leaving the other to suffer.".

He grabbed your hands to intertwine his fingers with yours. The backs of them were on the cool, grey stone, not at all like this fiery man above you. Like Schneznaya and Natlan. Ice and fire. As above, so below not in terms of temperature, but cruelty.

"And me... Well, I'm a Fatui Harbinger. Being a little cruel is guaranteed at this rate."

At last, he captured your lips with his. This kiss was unlike the few others you shared. He was the hungriest you've known. The most lustful you've seen.

What would Julian think?

You wanted to step back, even if the primal in you told you to stay. At some point, you did, only for him to grab your face.

"Now, now, comrade... You haven't been performing to your usual standard. It's my job as your Lord to end this. We can't fall behind the other legions, can we?".

He trailed off to your neck, nipping right where he knew you were most sensitive. Those whimpers were meant to be moans, only you weren't going to let them out.

"Wait, my Lord-".

There was the spot; right above your collarbone, just at the base of the neck. Did you really think he wouldn't know at this point? There was still a fading mark from last time, so he guessed it needed a renewal.

He chuckled and looked down into your eyes: "I know you way too well, Y/N. I'd say...".

He always liked cutting off his thoughts through kissing or nipping. You heeded out every word of his for years, it's basically an unconscious habit for you to grin and bear whatever he threw at you if it meant hearing the rest of his sentence.

How devoted. And thank the Tsaritsa for how delicious you were as well. Sometimes he pondered whether she was testing his mental endurance by sending him a recruit of such a lethal combo, along with more attributes befitting of an ideal partner, too.

To remove the last potential competition, putting him under the ground and far away from you, only served as an encouragement to take you.

When he broke away, he relished into the sad look in your eyes. Yes, you were going to be corrected for your poor performance and waste of time, at his hands.

"I'd say... You're right. Celestia is cruel for throwing you to me."

The tug at your collar was only the start. It was going to end with everything else right next to the grave.

You didn't know if souls were a thing, or if they were near, but deep down, you prayed to Julian to forgive the upcoming act.

[serenefreakgeekao3]

Apricity

[Table of Contents]

CHAPTER EIGHT, Disorientation

Day 32, Saturday (Day 29, Wednesday)

Adrenaline is pretty handy when you need to get over pain in a life-or-death situation. However, some pain doesn't go away so easily. Like the pain of watching Chuck, poor young Chuckie, get stabbed through the chest by a heaving and terrifying monster creature? Yeah, that wasn't going away so soon.

Adrenaline did help with the pain from your ankle, though. Or, rather, it would explain the lack thereof. You could feel the impact of your feet hitting the hard and uncompromising stone beneath you as you ran and ran, jolting up your legs and shaking your body. You should've been in pain, and if you could've focused on your ankle you were sure you would've been, however, your mind is focused only on one thing right now. And it was repeating over and over in your head.

That damned Griever was going to die for doing that to Chuck.

You weren't sure how long you'd been running, but there were plenty of close calls. A metal blade zipping past your cheek; tripping on a stray rock yet somehow managing to duck down enough to slide under the body of the Griever as it flew by overhead; even a trap you hadn't even known would be in the maze, a netted rope made to hold a body down. You had gotten caught, tangled in the webbing, and had only gotten out by using the rope against the Griever until it cut a hole large enough for you to slip out of.

You were approaching the edges of the maze, where the exits were and the cliffs fell harsh and deep. Glancing over the side as you turn to run alongside the edge of it, you couldn't even see the bottom. You weren't sure what to do, every plan was exhausted in your mind, your body even physically exhausted by this point.

A turn, another turn and clanking noises and the piercing sound of metal-on-metal clued you in to the closeness of your adversary. Another turn and it's a dead end. Mostly. The walls stretched high to either side of you, and behind you was blocked by the oncoming pursuer. Straight ahead was another cliff, coming up quickly. There was nothing else you could do.

You stop at the edge, turning around quickly and stumbling slightly, moving forward enough that your feet don't hang off of the edge. Grievers are horribly ugly, you've decided suddenly, full of black sludge without the rainbow sheen of oil. Metal stuck out in random places like someone stuck a bunch of nails into some melted Play-Doh, and its face and teeth looked like someone made a metal casing of a small dinosaur’s head- it all honestly looked like an enlarged nightmare version of some children's toy.

These were the incomprehensible thoughts flittering through your mind as the Griever closed the distance between the two of you, lifting up both of its arm-blades as if ready to slash downward onto you. Without hesitation, you slide under its ‘elbow,’ taking a chance to shove at the thing with your shoulder before backing up a few steps, watching it as you breathe heavily with exertion.

The Griever flailed, its limbs scratching and clawing anywhere it could reach, only to release loud screeching sounds as the metal glances off of the stone, not digging in. It was almost slow-motion, how the Griever was falling sideways and backwards, trying to save itself from its own momentum, trying desperately to grab a hold of something. Its stinger swings around suddenly, popping out from the inside of its gelatinous body to stab inside of you.

And you're so shocked for a moment, you don't even register what happens. Then your feet begin to get dragged with the Griever as it continues its descent faster, unable to stop itself with the only thing it was able to grab a hold of. You look down at the large metal cylinder pressed against your abdomen, your mouth hanging open as you try to reconcile what just happened. Belatedly, you grab the cylinder and then pull it out.

The stinger comes free, and as you let go of the metal the Griever finally falls away, disappearing into the distance below you. At some point, you can't see it anymore, although you were never really looking at its descent in the first place.

You were stung.

You feel the spot on your abdomen where you're bleeding, pulling your hand back to see just a smidge of that black sludge. The stuff that's in the stinger, that infects people with Wicked’s version of the virus.

Well, fuck.

You turn around, taking in a large gulp of breath in substitute of courage, and begin your journey back. You weren’t sure where you were or how you had even gotten here, but you knew you had to make it back. A few times throughout you had to stop your trek, hiding behind a nearby wall, your back pressed against the cold and unforgiving stone as you try to breathe quickly but quietly. You resume your run as soon as you’re able, but it’s getting too much. You’re slowing down, your ankle is flaring with more pain than when you injured it the first time, and your chest is spiking with pain and lack of breath. Your vision is beginning to blur, and you have to rub your eyes harshly to read your wristwatch.

3AM.

3AM?! You’d been running nonstop for hours on end, and you haven’t even made it back to the original Griever you killed. To where you dropped the stinger you came here so desperately for. Where you left Chuck behind.

You suck in a deep breath, ignoring the stabbing pain that grows ever larger in your chest and you push forward once again. You’re only jogging now, but it’s all you’re able to do. You take your time, scanning the too-similar walls and trying to distinguish where you are. Nothing, nothing, nothing.

There.

You recognize that pattern of the wall, somehow, impossibly. You lessen your jog, approaching the intersection and taking a look around for anything else you might recognize.

SLAM, SLAM, SLAM.

You turn and jog toward the sound, your heart pounding with something other than fright for once tonight. You turn, and you see a lump on the ground. You can’t control yourself as you cry out with relief, rushing quickly up toward where Chuck’s body lay on the ground- pulling your backpack off of your back and around to the front as you land on your knees next to him. Digging into your bag, your eyes are blurry and filled with tears, but after rubbing uselessly at them you find what you’re looking for. You jam the blue vial into the injector, looking down at Chuck finally.

Black was just starting to seep into his veins, but his eyes weren’t open. He hadn’t moved from this spot, so it wasn’t likely that he’s woken up yet. You let your hand touch his cheek, feeling his clammy and feverish skin as you trace the black veins as if trying to rub them away. You line the injector up with his thigh, then shoot the medicine into him. There’s a loud clunk and hiss, and you watch as the blue slowly drains away from the vial, leaving it empty and useless. You toss the remnants into your bag, rubbing Chuck’s thigh to hopefully spread the medicine quicker.

Beep, beep, beep

The incessant beeping finally draws your attention, and you glance up to see your prize. The metal cylinder, a little red light on the outside facing you blinks on and off with the little sound of a beep each time. You crawl over to Chuck’s other side, reaching until you grab ahold of the key.

You lean your back against the wall, letting the coolness of the stone seep through your shirt and hopefully cool you off while you take a small rest. You pull Chuck closer to the wall, just wanting him nearby, then begin to study the key in your hands. It’s still covered in the slime of a Griever, and no matter how many times you try to wipe it off it only seems to spread around more. You finally notice a number as you inspect it. Number 7.

Once you’ve finally caught your breath and kept yourself from falling asleep numerous times, you finally admit to yourself that you’re stalling. You can’t sleep here in the maze, it's not a guarantee that anyone would find you both if Wicked really is interested in capturing you and learning more about you. You stand with a grimace, jamming the stinger into your bag and slinging the whole thing onto your back. Then, you set yourself on getting Chuck up enough to carry him back.

It took a long time, a lot of effort, and frequent breaks. Your ankle still killed you, your body was exhausted, and- sorry, Chuck- but the dead weight you carried around made things infinitely harder. Thankfully, you haven’t had to try to hide the both of you from Grievers. In fact, you hadn’t even heard a call from one in a while. Limping along slowly, Chuck in tow, you struggle to lift your wrist and clear your eyes enough to study the numbers on it. They were all beginning to spin around, jumble together in your vision and head and memory and you thought it might’ve been sometime after 5AM but you weren’t completely sure?

You stumbled? You didn’t even realize you had until you took another three steps. You look behind you as if the cause of your misstep would be obvious, but it's all smooth stone around you. Everywhere is just smooth stone. You’re surrounded by massive walls of stone everywhere, on all sides, even below you. You were weighed down and heavy and even walking felt extraneous- and what were you doing? Why were you even doing all this? You were so tired…

You dropped what you were carrying. You must’ve since you felt as light as a feather now. You took a step, and another step, and it felt like you flew a great distance although the stone swirling around you told you that you only moved a few inches. When did the stone start talking to you?

The sky was awfully bright.

“I’m just bored, Tommy,” You whine, stretching your arms across the dining table as you lay your front half onto it, exaggerating your boredness by groaning loudly. You weren’t worried about bothering anybody, everyone else was hard at work as the object of your exclamation was seated next to you. Well- seated isn’t quite the right word when he’s sitting on the top of the table, using the bench as a footrest. Really, why does Thomas love to sit on top of tables?

“How can you be bored?” Thomas sounded playfully affronted, shoving at your shoulder though barely moving your frame, and you try to peak your eyes upward to see his face but it strains your eyes so you just close them instead. “On our one day off? We finally get to relax and do nothing!”

“Speak for yourself,” You whine mulishly, kicking your injured leg under the table as if he could see it. “I’ve had this thing wrapped up for half a week and haven’t been allowed to do any work. I’ve done all the relaxing I need!” You decide to gracefully ignore Thomas’ cackling, mostly because you don’t have the energy to feel offended right now.

“Well, then,” Thomas shakes the table as he jumps down from his perch, “Let’s go do something to dispel that boredom, then!” You huff, sitting up and turning around to face him, leaning your back against the hard line of the table as you stare at him in disbelief.

“Like what? I’ve been trying to do that for days.”

“Well,” Thomas drags the word out, kicking a stray rock as his eyes scan around the Glade. “How about we go bother Newt?” You furrow your eyebrows at this, pursing your lips. It’s tempting, but…

“But he’s working right now? Shouldn’t we leave him be?” Thomas laughs, reaching for your hand and pulling you to stand, quick with grabbing your cane and presenting it to you.

“Oh, don’t worry about all that. Zart is used to me coming by and bugging him on my day off.” You chuckle, leaning against the cane and moving to follow Thomas. You can tell he’s slowed down his gait for you, and you appreciate it.

“And he’s just okay with that?”

“I said he’s used to it, not that he’s okay with it.” You snort out a laugh, shaking your head as you glance over at him. The sun played across his tanned cheeks, lighting them with a healthy glow and causing his eyes to glimmer. He really was quite attractive. Was there any hope in what Minho told you? That he liked you as much as Newt?

You shook your head, facing forward as you walked. No, you couldn’t let yourself go down that road, not so soon to your plan. You don’t even want to be thinking of your plan right now, just wanting to enjoy what time you have with Thomas.

Thomas ducks down behind a row of trellises, waving for you to follow. You smother a giggle as you crouch down near him, listening intently to the plan he hatches, as if from thin air. Though, knowing Thomas, he probably did just come up with it as he said it. You nod along, moving around slowly to make sure you’re in the right place. Once crouching near where Newt was working, you waited for the opportunity. Soon enough, the farmer who had been working next to Newt wanders off, and he’s set upon by Thomas. Thomas startles Newt, who jumps and shouts something at him that you can’t quite make out aside from his name. You grin, beginning your stealthy manoeuvre over.

Thomas is nodding with a pseudo-sympathetic look, trying his best not to look over Newt’s shoulder and give your position away. You grin, reaching out with both hands and tickling Newt’s sides. He yelps out again- much louder for you, now that you’re closer- and turns around with a look of outrage that bleeds into slight annoyance and amusement.

“Shuck it, [Y/N], you startled the klunk outta’ me!” You can’t answer through your laughter, bending at the side from the heft of it. You can hear Thomas’ laughter as well, and when neither of you stops anytime soon you hear Newt’s voice again, louder, as if trying to talk over your incessant laughing. “Oh sure, sure. Laugh it up. You won’t be laughing later when I get you back!”

He ends the sentence by pouncing toward you, raising his long spindly fingers to dig at your sides, causing you to erupt in even more uncontrollable laughter, eventually falling to the ground as he tickles you, shaking your head and begging him to stop. It finally stops, but as you open your eyes and wipe a tear away you find out why. Thomas had picked Newt up from off of you, tackling him to the ground and pinning him there, tickling his sides nonstop as well. It’s a dangerous idea, what comes to mind, but you feel drunk with laughter and love. You sit up, sneaking up behind Thomas, and reach for his sides this time.

He turns around, a gasp of affront awarded to you as he notices who tickled him.

“Oh, it’s on!”

It’s sometime later, after the tickle war and a gentle not-so-admishment from Zart to Newt about his slacking off, but Newt is given the rest of the day as a gesture of goodwill. You’re not too sure you believe that fully, knowing his second-in-command duties never take a day off, but you’re glad to spend what time you can with both of them. Thomas shows you both his favourite game to play with Minho; Newt ends up showing you how to weave a basket, but this activity doesn’t last long as Thomas is antsy to get up and start moving again; eventually, the three of you can be found lounging in the dining area, asking each other as many unnecessary questions that you can think of.

“What about you, [Y/N]? If you could as the Creators for one thing, what would it be?” You hum in thought, pursing your lips. You couldn’t say what first came to mind, which would be ‘a copy of The Mazerunner so I know exactly how to get us out of here,’ so you take your time to pick something slightly ridiculous.

“Dice,” You finally decide on, shrugging. There’s silence for a moment before you look over. It seemed like both boys had been staring at you with incredulity, but Newt had turned away with pursed lips like he was considering it as Thomas leaned even closer.

“Dice? But why?”

“I can see the merit,” Newt shrugs, causing Thomas to turn on him.

“See the merit?”

“Well, you can get a lot of different games out of dice. And considering [Y/N] has been injured, I think they’re pretty bored of doing nothing by now.”

��Very bored,” You agree, making an exaggerated huff of displeasure that doesn’t garner you any sympathy. Thomas scoffs, throwing his arm out.

“What about something useful, though?”

“Oh yeah, smart boy?” You tease, narrowing your eyes playfully at him. “What would you ask for then?”

“A map out of here!” Newt laughs, shoving Thomas playfully, but a chill shoots through you at his words. “What, I’m right! You know I’m right!” They laugh as they begin a shoving match, and you’re able to compose yourself and regain your smile before they notice it had left.

“So, Newt, what’s your favourite vegetable?”

Thomas hadn’t realized he had fallen asleep until he gasped awake, jumping with a start and throwing his arms out to either side. One hand flew through nothing, but the other quickly hit something soft, and he glanced over to see Newt’s grim and tired expression, his hands slowly wrapping around the hand that had smacked into his stomach. Newt meets his eyes, the bags under his own making it obvious he hadn’t slept last night.

“It’s okay, you’re just here with me,” Newt whispers, blinking slowly and reaching up to rub his eyes. Thomas left his hand in the grip of both of Newt’s- though his grip left something to be desired- and leaned forward toward the man. He raises his other hand, rubbing against Newt’s cheeks gently. They were both sitting upright away from everyone else, their backs against the wall next to the western gate. They hadn’t moved since the night before.

“Newt? You haven’t slept?”

“Like you could talk,” Newt murmurs with a yawn, raising a hand to cover his mouth before replacing it back on Thomas’ own hand. “You tried to stay up all night too.” Thomas glances outward, scanning the horizon. A few people were up already, making their way to their early morning routines, and the sun wasn’t out yet but the colours had begun to light up the sky. Thomas turns back to Newt, his fingers gentle as they trace the bags under his eye, then down his cheek.

“Well, it’s my turn to be up now. Try to get some sleep.” Newt’s already shaking his head, raising one hand to grab ahold of the one on his cheek, pulling his hand away.

“No, no, the doors will open soon.”

“And I’ll wake you when they do,” Thomas reassures, smiling down at the sleepy, but cute, Newt. “Just get what rest you can-”

He’s interrupted by the groaning of the maze, a shifting of stone. They’re so close to the maze, sitting on the ground and leaning their backs against the wall, that it’s like they can feel the shaking in their cores. They meet each other’s eyes, and Thomas watches as Newt wakes up fully in under a second. They both scramble to get up, jogging over to the doors as they begin to open. Thomas glances around, noticing a few people walking over to meet them at the entrance. The doors are slightly open, but it's too small and too dark to see anything inside yet. Minho is approaching, along with Gally and Alby. They’re whispering something, something that Thomas can’t quite make out yet. He faces the doors, scanning for any sight of you as soon as he can see into the hallway, but keeping an ear out for their words. Then what they’re saying hits him.

“I looked everywhere, Alby,” Minho’s voice is grave, even more so than last night, if Thomas had to guess. “He’s not here.”

“It’s just not like him.”

“Unless…”

“You think he saw them run into the maze and ran out there with them?”

Thomas turned suddenly, concern etched across his face. “Wait, what? What’s happening?”

Alby turns a hesitant and grave look toward Thomas. He sighs, taking a step forward. “We can’t find Chuck.”

“What?”

“Thomas-” Newt tries to interrupt, but he doesn’t hear him, his head ringing.

“Minho said he’s checked everywhere, but is there some extra place he might be hiding? Somewhere only you know about?”

“What?” Thomas repeats, shaking his head slowly.

“Thomas!” He’s jerked out of his reverie by Newt, blinking and looking directly into his eyes, realizing Newt has his hands gripping Thomas’ arms. Newt also has a slightly manic expression on his face, like disbelief and joy felt all at once. “They’re there!”

Everyone whirls around at once. The doors have just stopped opening, the silence settling around their little group as they stare into the hallway of the maze. There, they could see you and Chuck, both lying on the ground. It looked like you had made it a few steps farther than him before collapsing.

“Are they alive?” Alby asks, his voice full of incredulity. A body brushes past Thomas in his stupor, but the sight of Minho running full force into the maze shocks him into the present. He takes off just after Minho, running into the maze behind him, his heart racing fast with hope and fear in equal amounts. As Minho gets to the bodies, he hesitates as he looks between the two on the ground, then glances behind him. He locks eyes with Thomas, then nods with a stern expression, rushing over to kneel next to Chuck. Thomas throws himself down next to you.

“He has a pulse!” Minho yells out, and Thomas can see him trying to pull Chuck into his arms to drag him out of the maze. Thomas is hesitating, hands hovering above your body as it feels like his heart tries to burst out of his chest. Then he reaches for your face, placing his hands on your cheeks to hold your cold and clammy cheeks. One hand slides down, trying for a pulse.

He feels his heart race faster, if that is even possible, when he can’t find one. The longer he stares the more he sees- your pale skin, the edges of black creeping up from your clothes, the injury on your stomach that seems to not be bleeding heavily but also looks like it might be infected. It hits him out of nowhere. You were stung. His breaths come out like sobs as he reaches for a wrist, raising your right arm up toward him as he tries once again for a pulse.

It’s there, but faint. He sobs with relief, lowering down to scoop you up, looking up to meet Newt’s eyes. Newt, who has stepped inside the maze to make sure you were okay.

“They have a pulse. It’s faint, but it’s there.” The relief that flooded Newt’s eyes matched his own, and they both rushed out of the maze, shivering from the cold and trying to bring you somewhere that could help.

He’d never seen the group of Medjacks look so focused and no-nonsense before. And he could understand it, this wasn’t just what they’d been training this whole time for- this was also their friends. Alby helped Minho carry Chuck inside ahead of Thomas and Newt carrying you, effortlessly lifting his body and laying it down on a nearby cot. You were laid gently in a cot next to him, somehow looking even worse now than you had in the light outside. Thomas is forced back by someone’s hand, and he watches as Jeff tears into Chuck’s clothes, Hannah moving over to begin inspecting you, Clint standing next to Hannah as if sensing that you’re the more desperate case.

“He’s been stung,” Jeff says, and everyone in the room raises their heads, a small gasp emanating from Hannah.

“What?” Clint calls out angrily, skirting around the beds and looking down at Chuck’s body.

“I don’t know, it just-”

“What is it?” Alby asks, and Thomas finally realizes it’s Alby holding him back as the words bounce around his skull from such a close distance.

“No, he’s right,” Clint mutters, fully focused on inspecting Chuck. “But this doesn’t make sense. It’s stabbed all the way through and there are no black marks so the obvious conclusion is the bladed arms, but the puncture wound doesn’t support that. It pinches in, like this-” Jeff interrupts, raising a grim expression toward them.

“It looks like he’s been stung, but he’s not showing any signs of changing.”

“How is that possible?” Alby asks, and Thomas takes a step back just to get a little distance from him, wandering close to Newt and taking his hand.

“Here,” Minho calls out suddenly, digging some contraption from a bag. “[Y/N] was carrying this on their back- is this familiar at all?” He tosses it onto the bed next to Chuck, and Clint snatches it quickly, lifting it to the light. It looked like some kind of-

“The blue serum,” Clint mutters, and Jeff furrows his brow, although it’s Hannah’s voice behind Clint that speaks up.

“I thought you guys didn’t know what the blue stuff did?”

“We don’t.” Clint answers, at the same time Jeff insists,

“We didn’t.” The two Medjacks lock eyes, and then Jeff begins inspecting Chuck closer as Clint rushes toward the cabinets on the wall.

“Guys, I think we have a problem,” Hannah calls out, gently touching your stomach.

“What?” Thomas calls out, moving to step forward but being held back by Newt’s hand in his. “What is it? What’s wrong?” Hannah glances toward Thomas with pity but turns to look in Jeff’s eyes, as Clint is distracted.

“I think [Y/N] was stung too.” Jeff nods but doesn’t look surprised. Clint grunts out in annoyance, slamming a cupboard shut.

“I found it, Clint!” Jeff exclaims suddenly, excitedly, as he looks down at Chuck’s thigh. Minho draws closer, trying to inspect whatever Jeff found.

“Damn it, Hannah! Where is the damn blue serum?” She rushes over, pulling open a drawer to the side. Thomas is too far away to see what’s inside, but he watches as Clint reaches inside and pulls out a contraption that looks identical to the one he had held not too long ago. Then he fits a blue vial into it.

“What are you gonna-” Hannah begins to ask, but before anyone can react Clint has travelled back across the hut and has stabbed the injector into your thigh. Everyone reacts at the same time, except for Jeff, jumping forward with their hands out as if they could stop Clint from whatever act he felt he needed to perform. The blue in the vial slowly sinks away, and Clint pulls the injector out of their leg, huffing as if he’s out of breath.

“What the klunk was that?” Thomas yells out, his breathing starting to pick up. He can feel himself panicking, but the slow drag of Newt’s hand against his back keeps him from rushing Clint and throwing him across the room like his instincts demand. Clint turns, meeting Thomas’ eyes with determination.

“I was saving their life.” Minho turns his attention away from Chuck over to you, touching your stomach as Clint keeps his stare focused on Thomas. “At least, I hope so. I’m running off of context clues, but honestly? I’ve been curious about this damned blue serum since we started getting it.” He huffs, walking away and tossing both injectors into the bin. “We better hope it works, otherwise nothing will.”

“Hey, guys, there’s something-” Minho murmurs, pulling wads of paper out from your pocket. Thomas finally feels the resistance that had been holding him back drop away as both Newt and he walks up toward your cot. Minho is smoothing one paper out, his brows furrowing as he studies the markings on it. Newt reaches for the other, taking his hand away from Thomas to smooth out the paper as well. “This looks like-” He hesitates, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. “This is a copy of the map.” Thomas looks up, meeting his eyes.

“The map?”

“Of course, the map, what other map is there Thomas?” Minho looks upset, reasonably so, as he studies the paper. Thomas drops his attention down toward Newt.

“What’s yours?” Newt sighs, shaking his head.

“A letter.”

[batshieroglyphics]

AO3 Scene Breaks - Final Fantasy Style!

Following from my set of FMA scene breaks, I've been working my way through my works to add scene breaks that are both screen-reader friendly, and just generally more fun.

This batch is for my Final Fantasy VIII and Final Fantasy X fics (not including the crossovers, those will be a different post). This has been shared previously with my patreons here. (The below is basically copy&pasted from the Patreon post, they just got it a few days sooner.)

Image descriptions are either in the image alt text, or shared below, if tumblr wouldn't let me add alt text. 🙄 Most of these are larger versions of the breaks used on AO3, but I don't have larger saves of the first two, so you're getting the smaller versions.

[Image Description: Final Fantasy 10 logo of Yuna sending bracketing the Zanarkand Abes logo; all are in colours of blue and yellow /end ID]

Final Fantasy X line break, which I actually created...last year? Ish. It's the Zanarkand Abes symbol, the fatter version that Tidus wears on his shorts, between mirrored versions of the Yuna sending logo for the series in the original sunset ombre.

[Image Description: Seymour Guado's chest tattoo bracketing the Zanarkand Abes logo; Seymour's lions are black outlined in purple, the Abes symbol is dark grey outlined in teal]

I also created an alternate, which is the thinner Abes symbol that Tidus wears as a necklace between Seymour's chest tattoos, which I'd halfway through to use for a Tidus/Seymour fic, although I prefer the above for Crooked Wings, and I haven't really done any other FFX fics that require scene breaks and have them as main characters.

Not actually using this one anywhere, yet, but one of the holiday card ficlets for this year is a non-shippy FF8 piece, and I seem to recall it having a scene break, so I decided to make a break that could be used no matter the ship. In this case, the Balamb Garden yin-yang symbol with the white halo. With, I think, light grey outline? So it can be seen against a white background.

Standard Seifer/Squall shippy break of the Balamb Garden yin-yang between Hyperion and Revolver. The Hyperion I ended up using is the 'costume' Squall has in Dissidia, because I'd otherwise have had to use the pixelated version from the base game. And that wouldn't have looked terrible in the small scale, but the pixelated base game version of Revolver doesn't have the Griever keychain and the embossing on the blade is...a disaster, so I ended up going for two higher-def gunblades, even if Hyperion's handle is wrong. Highlights of red around Hyperion and blue around Revolver were mostly because of my long-held headcanon that Seifer leans more towards fire (thanks fireball in the opening scene spar) and Squall leans more towards ice magic. Which meant this scene break worked very, very well for Zyxt, where the two blast Adel's Tomb in space and end up inheriting her magic.

This one is 100% created for my Sorcerer!Squall fic, Silver Wings, because there was no way I wasn't going to find a pair of spread wings and recolour them silver for this fic, come on. And then the Griever necklace in the centre, because of the backstory this fic attaches to it.

For Noblesse Oblige, I wanted Lion Heart as a sort of nod to how advanced Squall is, that he's already done all this before, and the crown for the title's meaning, that Squall (and Seifer, to a large extent) are the nobility of Garden, having been some of the original students and, in this fic, very much paving the way for generations of SeeD.

For Sins of Our Young, I knew I was going to go with the gunblades again—they're really the best way, I think, of implying about Seifer and Squall's relationship without using the character images, which I was sort of half-consciously avoiding—and I crossed them at the handles. But I wasn't certain how to bring in the implication of the title—namely, the 'Sins' bit. I tried finding blood drips or splatters I could add to the gunblades, but I wasn't really coming up with the vague image I had. The bloody hand print wasn't terrible, didn't hate it, fully intended to use it, and then I remembered I had a sort of dripping font and decided to just type 'Sins' and recolour it red. So, the left one is the version you'll actually see used in the fic.

For Kissing It Better, I honestly thought about just using a line of kiss marks, lol, but then I did a quick re-read of the fic and remembered the bit about Seifer giving Squall the Griever necklace, so I decided I'd just use that charm again. And then a calligraphy swirls line break I stumbled across got re-purposed as a sort of necklace chain, because I wasn't having a lot of luck, otherwise.

I actually almost used the gunblades with the Balamb Garden yin-yang for Broken For the Scars I Forgave, except, part of that fic is that Garden isn't really welcoming for them, after canon, so they have to find somewhere else to go. Too, Rinoa's relationship—both the Sorceress/Knight bond with Squall, and the friendship/mutually-hated persons thing she has going with Seifer—is...so important to this fic. And I wanted to recognise that. So, gunblades crossed at the hilt in front of Rinoa's Shooting Star.

[paa-official]

Case Description

[Audio tape clicking]

My name is Alethia Wilson. I’m reporting at august 15th 1969 and I’m at the Alamo County Police Station, Nevada. This audio tapes main purpose is for protocol and will mostly be used by me. This and following recordings are top secret and will be classified information owned by the government once my work on this case is done.

My carrier is focused on interrogating criminals and similar. But I’ve only been in this field for a short time and I haven’t gathered much experience. As a woman, it is difficult to get many gigs, therefore I am happy to be able to take this case. I will try my best to get the suspects to speak, while being calm and collected.

Not to many days ago the area 51 has reached out to us to interrogate four suspects, two male and two female. Before that I didn’t even knew this area really existed, but my hopes to see this location in person were swept away, as I was told the interrogation was moved to a location nearby.

Those four suspects didn’t speak a word to the other interrogators, which is why I was booked to fly over from New York. Because of them not speaking, the area 51 staff started being suspicious of them being soviet spies. But I share a different opinion. If they were soviets, they couldn’t sneak into the most location of the world, without someone not noticing their accents. Maybe there is more behind all of this and I’m getting behind it.

The first suspect I’m interrogating is someone special. Everybody's fingerprints were taken and sent through every database across the US and no matches were found, but I think it’s obvious that this one couldn’t.

It looks like it is one of the male intruders. According to the data of the physical observation, he is 1.82 meters tall, has yellow eyes, fiery red hair and a blue skin. He has a muscular build and apart from the mentioned details he seems very humanoid.

Among the items he carried with him was a black rectangle, which could be turned on with a button on the side. Unfortunately no one could do anything with it, because it was blocked by some sorts of a pin code. The only purpose it could bring us; emphasis on purpose; was displaying a time. Although there was some strange delay, with which the time didn’t match with any timezone of the soviet union. Or any timezone of the entire world.

He also carried two sword handles with him, which both didn’t have any blades. Even I cannot fathom the purpose of this items. He also wore an advanced metallic armor of some sorts with countless burns, scratches and dents from bullets.

The motivation is unknown due to the lack of communication. That’s why I was called in.

[Pausing audio tape]

[Door that’s being opened and handcuffs attaching]

Good morning. Before we start, my name is Alethia Wilson. I would appreciate you to introduce yourself, because your name is not stated in your file.

…

You would do us all a big favor, if you’d just talk with me. It would even help yourself get out of here as fast as possible.

… Wilson you say. Alright, how can I help you?

Excellent. Can you state your name for me please, before we can properly start?

Yes, of course. I’m Apath Wilson. A-P-A-T-H, some people never managed to write my name down correctly.

Mhm, Wilson. So we are namesakes

Oh, I know. That’s why I’m talking to you.

What do you mean by that?

We will get to that later.

Alright. How about we start with you telling me, why you and the other three broke into the area 51?

Uhhh… Nope.

Well, then not, I guess. Would you like to tell me about your origin?

… Are you sure about it?

I’m pretty sure. I need to know everything.

Well, if you have this much free time, I mean who am I to dictate how you should spend your free time, right?

Right…

Just one thing: Can those three men behind the mirror stop being pissed, because I’m talking to you but not to them? I’d appreciate that very much.

… How do you know there are exactly three men?

I’m an empath. I can sense how much they’re pissed off right now.

Empath? You mean you can sense the emotions of others?

And manipulate them, if I want to.

… What else can you do?

I mean, I can shape shift.

Pff.

You don’t believe me?

Pardon me, but I find it quite difficult to imagine you shape shifting into someone else.

[Take on Alethias appearance]

[Chair falls over] Holy shit!

I told you. Do we wanna start talking about my origin?

Can… can the others do that too?

No. The others are human. I’m a griever.

A griever?

Yes. All griever have an ability. But everyone has just one. I, on the other hand, have two, which isn’t normal.

And why do you have two?

Let me start with, where I come from.

[mazelicious]

Emily Prentiss x Reader

Season 7 Episode 1 spoilers, Canon divergent, angst, faked death, funeral, fluff, nightmares, comfort.

Requested by @wanhedaskaiprisa and Anonymous

The eggplant painted fingers of Penelope Garcia were wrapped tightly around your back as she guided your steps through the field. On your right Derek Morgan's strong hand was clutched around your forearm, bracing you, prepared to pull you up at the slightest shakes in your knees.

Your eyes were clouded with tears as you glanced around your surroundings, blurs of people who were here for the political capital, conveniently a lack of Emily's mother who never approved of your relationship from the one state dinner you shared, and most importantly the BAU, surrounding you, protecting you, they were truly a family, a broken family who lost a member.

You were supposed to give a eulogy, you were supposed to rattle off the list of her accomplishments, you were supposed to display the correct amount of tears and say you would love her forever. Instead JJ took one look at you and took the notes out of your hands.

She was the better griever between the two of you, she was the one who got over cases quicker, but still there was something uncanny about the way she handled her speech. It didn't phase you, you were frankly a mess, a loss for words, a hopeless case. It's funny how hard it is for the human brain to empathize with loss, because before you had known what it was like to fall for Emily Goddamn Prentiss, you could never feel the victims wives and husbands pain, but with the scorching tears swelling your eyes and burning your skin you appreciated a new understanding for them. Too bad it took you weeks to be back in the field.

The first days were the easiest, you were in shock, you were fine. Penelope came to check on you every morning, you had Sergio, you had Emily's apartment.

On the fourth day you woke up and didn't get out of bed. When Penelope came to check on you Sergio had broken into the bag of cat food, and she decided to take him home with her when you couldn't look her in the eye.

After a month you came back to work, only to help Derek with finding Doyle, to be honest it wasn't work, it was Reid holding back his genius so you could feel like you were helping and Penelope showing you pictures of cats while you hung back from the field in her office.

That was until Hotch decided the team needed a little more help on the Doyle case.

His suited figure stepped away from the door frame and there was Emily Goddamn Prentiss.

She looked around. She mumbled something about how much it killed her. She hugged Spencer and Derek, and finally she made eye contact with you.

Your hands were bitten raw and your eyes were blurred in tears.

"Y/N...."

"Emily."

"I'm so so sorry."

"FUCK YOU. You couldn't give me a single word? A LETTER?? Was it even real, was I just another one of your covers? HOW CAN YOU EVEN PRETEND TO CARE ABOUT ME?!"

"Wait-"

You ran for your life, you didn't even know where you were going. You heard voices yelling back at you, you ignored them. You got coffee, you spilled the cup. You went home and you didn't leave. You didn't eat,

you slept for so long.

Then Emily finally returned, apparently Doyle was dead, apparently she could stay with you now.

It started with cleaning, the apartment was a mess, you two cleaned together, silently. You sang your hearts out to cheesy pop songs and you took care of Sergio after Penelope brought him back.

She slept in the guest room, you slept on her side of the bed.

One night you were dreaming. Dreaming? No, you were screaming and crying in your sleep. You were having a terror, it was the same one as always.

You were woken up by a squeeze in your wrist and a light shake of your torso.

"Y/N. You're okay, you're safe, I'm right here."

You woke up dizzy and exhausted with tears welling your eyes.

"Come here."

She had your head in her lap and your heartbeat rested to line up with hers.

"It helps if you talk about it."

"Ok"

You took a deep breath, you stuttered and your voice shook.

"Me and..

and him we were racing to get to you first, he always won."

"Honey"

"He carved his name into you... And I couldn't do anything."

"It's not your fault."

"I couldn't do anything."

"Hey! I'm right here. I'm okay now. I'm here and you're safe, were safe."

She wrapped her hands around your head, she held you tightly, you had never felt so safe, and you couldn't believe yourself. You were safe in her arms again. You were unbelievably trusting her again. Honestly you wouldn't change a thing.

[salarta]

Scarlet Witch #2 Thoughts

This is referring to the mini being published right now (July 2024). I'm first and foremost a Polaris fan, so keep in mind much of my thinking is guided by that, and there are things about other characters (including Wanda) I may be missing.

I did buy and read #1 as well.

Overall, what I'm seeing seems like a good direction for Wanda. Her own setup and style, with lore being built up around her that's particular to her background and abilities. I see it right now as a good example of putting thought and effort into a character for themselves, but also respecting the other characters that appear and understanding they each have worth too.

I think building up Pietro as an important pair with Wanda shows this. And Griever denigrating him plays the role well of how some people think of him as "lesser" and ignore his individual value.

The book just as a whole seems to be willing to lean into the Magnus family as a whole being meaningful. Especially when Wanda fights the creature that had once possessed Wiccan, and when Pietro calls Lorna his other sister.

Lorna has only two pages in this issue, but they're GOOD pages. You get a sense of her personality in them, simultaneously dangerous and trolling Griever by ripping off her eye piece and using it against her. I also still like that this is retaining her educational background as a doctor (academia) - the one thing I liked of what Williams did. It's a part of her character that I'm hopeful will encourage future writers to write her smart, avoiding the tendency of too many in the past to depict her doing stupid things for the sake of other characters.

She also refers to herself as Mistress of Magnetism, which is another thing I'm glad to see. I mention this not just for liking it, but also because someone showed me a Storm fan who clearly doesn't know Lorna thinking it was taken from Storm. Not realizing Lorna's had that descriptor since the 70s. I understand a fan of a character that's a woman of color being on high alert for potential cases of the character getting undermined and having things taken from her, but this isn't one of those cases.

When I first saw the Queen of Nevers (I think that's her name? The one who's about possibilities), my immediate thought was that she looks like Lorna. So I thought it was going a little meta - that there's "grand designs" of certain people at Marvel and Lorna upends those plans with her wealth of possibilities, repeatedly defying their expectations. Like becoming the breakout character on Gifted even though Marvel thought it would be Blink. Or winning the X-Men vote for Lorna to join the team.

But in later pages, we see Wanda wearing the same thing as the Queen of Nevers, including with the color green. I realized then that it's a callback to when the first cover with her on it had her costume miscolored to green. Doesn't necessarily mean my meta thoughts were off base, but I do think the idea was moreso the callback and turning it into part of the lore. Another sign of Orlando caring about character history and incorporating it.

That's all I've got for now. What I've read so far definitely makes me feel in the right when I said Lorna fans should go all in with this mini to support Lorna, and ignore what the X-Men books are pulling right now.

[camillathe6th]

WIP Wednesday/Zero Context WIP

I was tagged by @eydika for WIP Wednesday and @the-rebel-archivist for the Zero Context WIP thing, so I'm going to conflate the two—thank you for thinking of me!! I'm doing some original writing these days, so this is MORE than out of context and EXTREMELY in progress. Tried to find something that stands on its own two feet without any explanation and found an asshole in the process ♡ ---------------------

“Thank god you’re here,” he lies, he lies to you, “Pay for my drink?”

On the other side of the counter, the barman’s waiting, an eyebrow raised. Casually, Nadeem touches his ear, pushing the thumb wheel: to raise or to lower the volume you’re not sure. In any case, you’re not—you’re not smiling, not first and not second and not ever, and you’re not obeying either. Instead you cross your arms, pinch your mouth, harden your face.

“Get fucked.”

Eye-sizzle. His eyes, always—

“Oh I couldn’t,” he quips back, a hand on his heart. “Rust doesn’t swing that way. Do you, Rust?”

Rust is wiping a glass cleaner with a rag not clean enough.

“Your way specifically? No. Give me my money, Nadeem.” ---------------- Of course I'll tag @mihqorio, @profanedaisy, the newly-minted old woman fucker @jahiera, @kittlesandbugs, @griever-receiver and @ejunkiet. I would like to see the WIPS!!! (if you want to share)

[enemiesofinnocence]

'i think you were really reluctant to take accountability for that.'

RANDOM LINES OF DIALOGUE PROMPTS - OPEN @primalvessel

It came to something when Khum'a didn't even know what he was supposed to take accountability for?

Taking all the hits from their latest hunt? Being the best badass he could be out in the field?

Or for the fact that Grievous McSpear fancied his chances and stood right in the line of fire?

Whichever one was the case (chances were it was none of those things and Khum'a just didn't enjoy being corrected by anyone at any time) the blond certainly didn't take kindly to the remark, and it showed with the furrow of his brow and the barring of sharp teeth.

"Can see why they call you Griever. 'Cus you ain't been nothing but grief the entire time we been out here, yeah?!" A spread of both hands as though to present the situation he spoke of to his fellow Miqo'te.

"Why don't you kiss my hairy blond ass before you start accusing me of shit?"

[scarlet--wiccan]

Do you think Orlando has missed the mark when it comes to revitalizing obscure character from her lore? Why the Wizard when the High Evolutionary is more personal? Why is Darcy but not Wanda's old neighbor, Holly? And why hasn't there any plot that discusses the consequences of her absorbing Chthon into her soul?

No? First of all, you can't "miss the mark" on something if it wasn't your objective in the first place. It may be a missed opportunity, but Orlando's under no obligation to recycle characters or storylines from Wanda's past-- and in fact, I think he made it pretty clear, especially in the 2023 series, that his goal was break new ground whenever possible, rather than looking backwards. Despite that, the series does make a lot of time to touch base with the people in Wanda's personal life, so it's not as if her history has been tossed out the window. And I would certainly say that Lore's comeback counts as "revitalizing an obscure character."

The High Evolutionary would have been a terrible choice for the Wizard's role in SW&Q, which was to act as a herald for the Griever, and to draw out the mystery around her motives and identity. It was necessary that this herald be someone who could be raised up, as it were, by a higher power. The Evolutionary's personality and self-involvement are too strong to be convincingly swayed to fanaticism, and he already has far more power and resources than the Wizard. And in this case, his history with Wanda and Pietro would have been a disadvantage, as it would have distracted from both the Griever and Magneto's storylines which, to be honest, were already competing for precious page space in those cramped four issues.

There literally are multiple plot points about the consequences of Wanda binding Chthon*. The whole series is predicated on it-- Wanda's freedom, her new lease on life, and her greater ability to embrace and control chaos magic all stem from the finale of Darkhold. The ramifications of this action were addressed in the Scarlet Witch (2023) Annual, and this led into the Contest of Chaos event, which revealed that Earth's natural chaos magic had become imbalanced. Wanda's custody of Chthon is also mentioned as one of Hexfinder's motives for killing Wanda. Then, in Scarlet Witch & Quicksilver, we see Wanda falter before gaining full control of the Darkhold's power-- that was a big one, and it even came with a costume change, so I don't know how anybody missed it. Chthon's imprisonment and the Darkhold's transformation haven't been acknowledged as much as I might have liked outside of Scarlet Witch, but they do come up in some vampire events, like Blood Hunt and Unforgiven.

And now, Chthon has escaped, which is, arguably, the ultimate consequence. Wanda acknowledge the risk right from the start-- in Darkhold: Omega, she warns the corrupted heroes that killing her would chance his release, and that's exactly what happened when the Griever struck her down. Both the Griever's attack, and Chthon's subsequent escape, are framed as a consequence of Wanda not listening to Agatha's advice. I wouldn't say Wanda exhibited hubris, per se, but she came close to it.

I was underwhelmed by Contest of Chaos, and I can think of other, more direct consequences Wanda might have encountered-- for example, it would've neat to see her confronted by some of the other Elder Gods. But outside of the Griever, this book has never been about great cosmic forces clashing, and that's okay. Wanda's trajectory has, in a lot of ways, been about her need to prove-- to herself and others-- that's she's okay. She's at her strongest, healthiest, and most in control, but she's still fallible. Her new status quo comes with new challenges, and new lessons to learn, and because that's the focus, those "consequences" are playing out on a more personal level.

I don't know where things will go from here, or how long the book is going to run, and Chthon's escape will definitely require some kind of major pay-off, but so far, I'm not mad at the direction Orlando has taken. But I am frustrated that so many people are unable to see the depth of this book because they're unwilling to read beyond major, cinematic battles and displays of epic power. It's juvenile.

*She did not, for the record, absorb or assimilate him-- that's basically what she did the Darkhold, but Chthon was just locked up.