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queenvivi123 · 4 months

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Death Doesn’t Wait

“You betrayed me.”

Vivid green eyes flashed under my eyelids, despite how much they told me to forget, the question begged to be asked; how could you forget the reason behind your scars?

“It's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me

At tea time, everybody agrees

I'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror

It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero”

I woke to Taylor swift playing in the background of what I call my “Bedroom.” Behind the thick curtains were thick bars of steel, like a prison! The fairy lights I had scavenged twinkled faintly and it brightened my mood a bit. A bit. I lived above the stage in Solstice Cinema, a “room” long forgotten. There was a trapdoor, the one I climbed down now to a backroom. Mannequins lined the walls, each in a feathery dress. The room’s paint.. was peeling and its once vibrant color of periwinkle faded down to a dull, lifeless blue. I listened at the door, hoping no one was there. When I determined the coast was clear, I crept through the hallways and out the back door of the theater. I walked toward the Confectioner's Treat, a little late but Ms.Derniar usually didn’t mind. As i walked, my mind wandered to more important things, like my food stock. I was almost out of food, save for a few cupcakes and ramen. I would have to stop by kritanta groceries later.

As I reached Confectioner’s Treat, I saw a cake being loaded into a truck. Its blue icing was midnight-cold, cruel, and dark. Tiny star-shaped sprinkles decorated the first tier of the cake; the bottom of the second tier was decorated with a sparkling white frosting, making flowers that looked like they were made of moonlight. On top there was a little figurine, deathly pale-almost light blue- with eyes beady and dark, framed by luscious blue hair. Corpse Bride. It was silly, really, that I was afraid of a movie character-who wasn’t even the villain. Yet, my breath still caught in my throat. My lungs burned and my chest heaved for air. But none of it mattered to me. Nothing did.

I ran, ran, and ran as fast I could.

The wind pushed against me, blinding and burning against my skin.

Yet, I continued to run.

The one reason I had ran that day was because of one girl.

One girl.

One sister.

One twin.

My other half, the other piece of the puzzle known as ME.

She hadn’t made it out of the madman's house.

My heart beat, beat, beat.

Slow and steady.

Keeping me calm, calm, calm.

As my eyes fluttered close, burning, burning, burning.

The voice never stopped singing.

I woke with an IV drip in my arm. Screaming, I sat up straight, blinking wearily. In the corner of the white room, with the white walls was a black camera. Its red light blinked and I understood that it had detected my movement. For a moment, nothing happened and I was phenomenally underwhelmed.As my eyes wandered, I noticed a sticker on the IV drip bag. It read, Malnutrition. While I was reading the sticker, a woman showed up. She was Asian, with shiny black hair and chocolate eyes. My eyes traveled to her name card which read ‘Ms. Siwang’. I cleared my throat, realizing that I most likely looked like a rat.

“So,uh, hi?”

“What’s your name, dear?” Oh. So she was one of those Gramma people. Realizing that made my heart ache for my own Grandmother, who if she saw like this, would have done either of these two things: Hug me and hand me one of the infinite chocolates in her purse or slap me with the sole of her shoe for not looking ‘civilliased’. I was so lost in my memories that I hadn’t realized she had asked again.

“Oh! I’m Leandra!” A second after that I realized she could now use my name to trace me back. I shook my head, my long, uncut hair flashing an iridescent red with streaks of copper. Like Mom’s.

“Well, dearie, where do you live?” She questioned. I hesitated. She must have sensed my discomfort, however, because she stopped talking.

Wordlessly, she handed me a bowl of gooey, cheesy mac n cheese. I dug in, the cheese melting in my mouth giving me gooey pleasure. A few minutes later, the bowl was emptY. Dr. Siwang stared at me, like I was a creature she couldn’t figure out.

“So, where’s your family?”

“Um . . .” She looked at me like she had finally figured me out. I stared at her, partially because I wanted her to know that I knew what she thought.And also because I didn't want to seem like a coward. After a long and intense battle(1 minute long), Dr. Siwang left the room after handing me a doughnut on a plate. Weirdest thing I’ve ever seen. Then, she left.

In an unknown amount of time, I woke up in another room, this time laid down on a colorful couch in a colorful room. The walls were a pastel teal and the ceiling a sparkly silver. I sat myself down then just . . . thought. Thought about my life, thought about my sister, thought about everything and everyone that had made me this way. A liar, a cheat, a thief. Completely against my will, a tear slipped out. As if it had been holding them back, a barrage of tears flooded me and I almost had a nice, good sob time. Keyword here: almost.

“There you are,” A military-like voice exclaimed. I turned to see a woman, tall and stiff, wearing a police uniform. Her raven hair was tied into a tight bun and her jaw had a roughness to it that told she could kill me with her words. A frown appeared on her plump lips as she saw the remnants of the tears that oh-so recently flooded my cheeks. She looked disappointed, like I had failed some sort of test.

“Yes, here I am.” Sarcasm inundated my voice and I didn't understand what game I was playing. Her frown was a lot more enunciated and it made me want to laugh. A lot.

“Sit, Leana.”

“Leandra,” I corrected, annoyance seeping into my tone.

“Okay, Leandra,” Ms. Military sneered. I disliked her immediately. Who sneers at a girl who you most likely knows that girl is homeless?!

Ms. Military seemed to calm herself down, clenching and unclenching her fists. She then motioned for me to sit once more, adding a very stiff, very forced “Please” at the end. I obliged, not wanting to cause too much trouble.

“I saw your records.”

I stiffened. If she knew . . .

“You, according to the files, disappeared two years ago.” It was a statement. Plain, boring, and everything it wasn’t.

So I answered the same way. “Three. He must haven’t noticed.”

“Why’d you leave?”

“Because I was stuck with an alcoholic!” My temper flared and all I wanted was for someone to listen. To understand. Was that too much to ask?

“You were nineteen. You didn’t need a guardian when your parents died.” Wait. What? Nineteen? I had been sixteen when he had moved in. Hadn’t I been?

“N- no . . . I had been sixteen.” My voice stuttered on the words, like it was a death sentence to say them.

“Are you claiming the nurse who oversaw your birth is wrong?” Not an accusation, not an asservation. Just a question. And it meant the world to me. I couldn’t imagine my sweet, sweet mother lying to me.

I couldn’t process this.

My brain was whirling, whirling, whirling.

My heart held still, as if a ghost might appear and start explaining.

Everything.

This was too much.

My whole life was a lie.

We hadn’t had to live there.

I woke with a headache. It was like someone combined a hammer and pendulum and decided to test it in my head.I groaned, holding my head in my hands.

Waking up in a police office was disorienting.I’m guessing it was the chief police officer’s office as it was a separated room altogether. It had baby blue walls with the police logo painted onto one of those walls, shiny and sleek, it almost looked official enough for me to trust the police. Almost.

A man sat in a chair, his back facing me. He must have heard me snort, however, and so he turned.

“Hi,” he said and it sounded so casual, so nonchalant, so normal.

“Hi,” I whispered. My voice was still scratchy and he must have picked up on that because he handed me a glass of water right after I said that. Drinking water was like heaven: something I didn’t deserve.

“You mentioned something in your sleep,” He started, “Most of it was nonsensical, but something you said mentioned a sister.” He hesitated on this last part, as if he was unsure of what to make of this.

“Yeah, I mentioned my sister. STuck in an alcoholic's house or did you forget?”

“The files don’t mention a sister,” Honestly, my life has been so messed up that this time around i wasn’t even surprised anymore.

“We ran tests. You weren’t hallucinating.” A simple statement, yet it signified he believed me which meant everything.

“Do you know where exactly your uncle lives?” I shuddered. Forgetting was one of the most impossible things in my life, nothing worked.

“Y-yeah,” My voice is shaky, but strong.

“Take us there.” three simple words, yet they would change my life.

The sun dipped low into the crescent of the shattered roof of my uncle’s house. It had almost been a week before the man-whose name was Mr. Tuproamor, weird, I know- had reached out to take me to the house. Taking a deep breath to steady myself and calm my shaky nerves, I stepped over the threshold. The inside was just how it’d been before, except maybe a bit more rusty without my careful care. I did a 360 spin, taking in the sights-and not in a good way. The wall’s wallpaper was peeling and the wood behind it seemed rotted, and the flickering lights only added to the effect of a creepy haunted house. I saw the staircase 'ss railing falling apart and the stairs creaky and ants crawled across it, giving me a horrible feeling.

One will live and the other will die

Who was that? Oh, right, my inner depression! Anyhoo, I raced up the stairs and turned left. Right before I had reached the door to Hanna and I’s former bedroom, I saw the blood. A ragged crack ran through the door, like many others caused by my uncle, but this one was different. Blood coated the rims of it and the metallic smell made me want to throw up. You could tell it was recent.

I raced into the room, scratching my arm on the way in, but I didn't care. Not with the sight in front of me. My sister’s bloody head was smashed against the wood, as if someone had pushed her down there.

But I couldn’t find words to describe her pale, incredibly still body.

Mindless Tears fell down my cheeks and I rushed to her side, falling down on my knees.

She had saved me that fateful dawn, she had saved me

And now I couldn’t save her

I couldn’t handle this

I couldn’t

All the unanswered questions that had been living in my head faded into the shadows

I could hear the sound of my heart breaking, shattering like glass

Even as I closed my eyes, I could still see it, still see HER

Once vivid, now lifeless green eyes burned my eyelids

As Everything

Went Dark.

#Stories #notafanfiction #lotsofeffort #amazing #i'll sue you if you copy this without my permission!

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queenvivi123 · 4 months

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SO TRUE! I mean, I def think Sophitz is toxic. BUT, Fitz ain't toxic, mental health doesn't give a shit about how much other people went through.

Can I get some Fitz hcs (Just like general thoughts you have about him? :))

These are literally all angst. Not an ounce of hurt/comfort

Fitz Vacker has academic anxiety like you've never seen. He may be smart, but a lot of his academic rigor is not there naturally. His good grades don't just fall into his lap like everyone seems to assume. This boy runs on red-eyes and brain fog 90% of the time and is just masterful at faking it till you make it

He actually has a hard time forming real friendships with people because he's used to being used to garner status. He's better socialized around adults because of the isolation and seclusion he felt from the 'celebrity worship' he experienced, or the extreme jealousy issues his peers projected onto him

he has a hard time connecting with the people in his immediate friend group to this day bc his status still hangs over all of their heads. There's always an undercurrent of resentment he can't even blame his friends for having against him

He dreaded the end of the school year award ceremonies because he always came out as top of his class but it was never seen as something he earned. It would get hard to breathe when awards were announced. People whispered. swore the whole thing was rigged.

He was often giving ability presentations to adults to be evaluated and deemed gifted and the stress of being perfect was crippling when he was little.

He always felt like he was living in a glass bubble, looking in on people but unable to really form bonds. Lots of derealization growing up, when there were lots of eyes on him. He got really good at running on autopilot and pretending to be present for people.

his time in the human world was oddly traumatic but he wouldn't tell a soul about it. He was used to feeling like a piece of meat in the lost cities, but in the real world, with his looks- he received a lot of unwanted attention from people and it caused a lot of self-perception issues and shame

he was exposed to more violence than he'll ever admit to in the human world. and he thinks that's part of the reason he has such a high threshold for it compared to other elves.

Fitz looked up to Alvar a lot but knew that his older brother didn't have the same affection for him.

He often felt like the world pitted him and his siblings against each other, and like Biana and Alvar had a closer bond than he did to either of them. Which led him to become really close with his dad, which only made the divide between the kids worse.

His friendship with Keefe was a lot deeper than anyone ever seemed to pick up on. He saw a lot of himself in Keefe but was too ashamed to admit it, for fear of sounding like he was searching for pity.

When he bakes it's usually to keep a panic attack at bay. It used to be a fun hobby that was light-hearted, but now it's the only thing he feels like he has an ounce of control over, and it's just become a coping mechanism.

He has a lot of silent panic attacks. Random bouts of tightness in his chest and shortness of breath that he can usually pass off as sighs

He's really close with Grizel who is often the one who senses these panic attacks because they're often too low-key for someone with normal senses to tell. She'll get him out of rooms, place a hand on his shoulder etc...

it happened a lot during the time Alvar was living on the Everglen property again. He didn't feel safe in his own bedroom half the time, even if Grizel sat at the foot of his bed while he slept.

He literally cannot sleep without Mr. Snuggles.

Bro is an insomniac who will pace around his house for hours at night until his brain physically knocks him out

Fluff Bonus!

Biana and him have grown closer since Alvar's betrayal, and she'll often keep him company while he bakes if she can tell it's getting into 'manic avoidance of dealing with feelings' territory.

She taught him to braid hair when they were little and he does it when he's nervous and needs to do something with his hands.

and if you like lavacake- he does it to Marella's hair all the time mindlessly <3

He collected lots of silly things from the human world and actually really loves human music. He's not supposed to have it though.

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