#greenbean talks to plants

[popping-greenbean]

there are so many things that i could do so well,,, if only i could like.actually do them

[rainybraindays]

Its time to mentally prepare for farm work again

[thedepthsoffandomminds]

Maze Runner chapter two

Newt and fem reader.

Previous part

You stand with the others, almost uninterested in antics of the boys around you. They all amused you in their own ways but on Greenie days their immaturity shines through. As the box arrived and you all.looked down at the boy inside. Just like every month a wave of disappointment sweeps over you at it not being a girl.

“HEY HEY HELP ME!!” The boy called to them. Gally pulled open the doors and jumped inside.

“Day one greenie. Rise and shine” he grinned, grabbing the boy by his collar and all but throwing him onto the grass.

“ I could use some help in the kitchen” Frypan laughed.

The boy looked around the others who were talking at once and you saw the fear in his eyes. He scrambled to his feet and started running.

“ Hey we got a runner!!”

You just stood and watched as he ran, Newt slid his arm around your shoulders as he laughed.

Between the boys they got him subdued somewhat and dropped him into the pit to calm down a bit. Later on Alby walked past you with a grin and over to the new boy.

“Hey Hey there greenbean Not gonna run again Pff good.” He laughed, “My name is alby, can you tell me anything about yourself. Who you are? Where you came from? Anything at all?” He asked with the same hope he had everytime.

The boy shakes his head, “no”

“Can you tell me your name?” Alby asked. “I-i-idon’t remember anything. Why cant I remember anything?” More panic starts to bubble in the Greenie.

“ It's okay. Hey relax. Relax. Its normal. Happens to us all. You'll get your name back in a day or two. It’s the one thing they let us keep.” Alby explains, patting Thomas in his shoulder.

“What is this place?” Greenie asks.

“Let me show you We eat here, we sleep here, we grow our own food, we build our own shelter, whatever we need the box provides, the rest is up to us,” Alby gestured to each place as he walked through the grass.

“The Box?” Greenie looked around himself.

“Yeah. It's sent up once a month with fresh supplies and a new Greenie. This month that's you. Congratulations.” Alby laughed.

“Sent up'? By who, though'? Who put us here'?” Greenie said as Alby shrugged his shoulders.

“That, we don't know.”

“Hey, are you all right, Alby?” Newt said walking up to them with you by his side.

“Green Bean, meet Newt and y/n. When I'm not around, he's in charge.” He pointed to Newt.

“Well, it's a good thing you're always around then.” You giggle and Newt nudges your arm.

“That was some dash you made earlier. For a second, I thought you had the chops to be a runner.” Newt said to Greenie.

“till you face-planted.” You added.

“That was great.” Newt grinned.

“Wait, a "runner"?” Greenie asked looking at the blonde boy next to you. Looking at the new guy you figured he was around your age, seventeen maybe, he had dark hair that contrasted with Newt's. His eyes though, you're sure you recognise those eyes.

“Newt, do me a favour. Go find Chuck.” Alby breaks your concentration and Newt darts off towards the shelter.

The greenie’s eyes are locked on Mai Mai who had sauntered up to your side.

“Oh, this is Mai Mai. She belongs to y/n, kinda. They are our only girls in the Glade.” Alby explained, “y/n do you wanna check with Frypan if the food is on track?”

“Sure thing.” You say before wandering off with the tiger beside you.

“Look, I'm sorry to rush this. You came up a little late, and there's a lot to do. We got something special planned tonight.” Alby said excitedly. He shows Greenie up the watch tower where he was able to explain everything to him.

“We only have three rules. First, do your part.

No time for any freeloaders. Second,never

harm another Glader. None of this works

unless we have trust. Most importantly… never go beyond those walls. Do you understand me, Greenie?” Albys’s eyes were never so serious than when he said this speech. Greenie nodded, though his mind screamed to know what was out there.

You sat below the shade of a tree by the shelter and listened to Chuck going through more things with the Greenie. Every new kid was sent with a hammock and blankets so they were working on getting that set up.

“It's basically the same story for all of us. We wake up in the Box, Alby gives us the tour, then here we are.” He explains, “Don't worry.

You're already doing better than I did. I clunked my pants three times before they got

me out of the pit.” Chuck turns to see Greenie walking away from him.

“No, come on. Dude, where are you going?”

“I just wanna see.” He says back.

“You can look around all you want but you better not go out there.” Chuck warned.

“Why not? What's through there?” Greenie pushed.

“I don't know. I just know what I'm told And we're not supposed to leave.” He sighed. Greenie copies the act.

“Hey, Chuck. New Greenie huh? How does it feel to be promoted?” Ben laughed. You liked Ben, he was the fifth boy to come up and a good friend. Though he had once told you he liked you a little more than that, you didn't return his feelings.

At the entrance to the maze you see the runners coming back in.

“I thought no one was allowed to leave.” The Greenie said.

“I said we're not allowed to leave.” Chuck states.

“ They're different, they're runners. They know more about the maze than anyone.” you elaborate drawing their attention to you.

“Wait, what?” he asked.

“What?” Chuck drops his head.

“What? You just said "maze."” He looks at you then back to the entrance.

“I did?” You raise your eyebrows.

“Yeah.” Chuck nodded, “Where are you going?”

“What are you doing?” You say getting up from the floor and disturbing the sleeping tiger.

“I'm just gonna take a look.” Greenie started walking away from the shelter.

“I told you, you can't. No one leaves, especially not now. It's not safe.” Chuck scrambles to keep up.

“Okay, all right, I'm not gonna go.” He says and he stands looking out into the Maze. You remember that look, Minho used to get that look.

Just as you were about to start running Gally came bounding across the field and pushed Greenie to the floor. He stood over him.

“We gotta stop meeting like this Greenie.”

He scrambled to his feet and you feel the other boys running to see what was happening.

New tries to calm him down but Greenie wants to know what is out there. You step forward and Mai Mai makes sure no one else can.

“Hey Greenie, it's for your own safety, okay? We can't just let you leave.”

“Why not?” Just as he asked, there's an echo that ricochets through the maze walls. Everyone turns to it and an eerie silence falls over the gathered boys. Mai Mai comes up to your side then rounds the Greenie and pushes him out of the entrance way.

“What the hell?” Greenie says. You all watch as the walls.of the entrance begin to move, closing in on each other. Everyone started to disperse and return to their jobs as Greenie watched the doors until they were fully closed. Once again Mai Mai nudged at his waist and pushed him backwards a few steps.

“Okay, okay. I'm going.” He held his hands up to her and turned round to you and Newt, he had once again flung his arm around your shoulder.

“Come on Greenie.” He beckoned, turning you both away.

Frypan and Gally had slaughter the older pig and cooked him over the big bonfire. Frypan had used the vegetables to make up a stew. You loved that stew and always looked forward to Greenie day. After eating Gally brought a brand new barrel of his homebrew and the boys started drinking. These nights were the best, you all, for just one evening, could forget where you were and the people you'd lost. It was nice. It was a real home.

You look up and see Greenie sitting alone by a log.

Newt came up to you and pulled you against his hard chest.

“Hey.” He whispers into your ear, “what's up?”

You gesture your head to Greenie.

“He could do with a friend.” You say to him. Newt nods, presses a soft kiss to the side of your head and wanders over to the Greenie.

Alby came.over to you and sat beside you.

“What do we think then? Where should we put him?” He has led you. It had always been you and Alby that chose where people went.

“He'd be a good runner but he needs to get a bit dirty first.” You say.

“So with you and Newt then.” Alby says as more of a statement than a question.

Not too far away the normal games started and Gally was sparing with another lad.

Newt dropped down against the log.

“hell of a first day, Greenie.” He laughed.

“Here. Put some hair on your chest.” He handed him the mason jar of liquid. Greenie took a large swing and coughed.

“Oh, my God! What is that?” He laughed.

“I don't even know. It's Gally's recipe. It's a trade secret.” Newt chuckled.

“Yeah, well, he's still an asshole.”

“He saved your life today. Trust me. The maze is a dangerous place.” Newt's eyes tell the story of a frightened little boy.

“We're trapped here, aren't we?” Greenie asked.

“For the moment. But...you see those guys?

There, by the fire?,” he pointed to Minho and the others runners, “Those are the runners.

That guy in the middle there, that's Minho.

He's the Keeper of the Runners. Every morning, when those doors open, they run the maze...mapping it, memorizing it, trying to find a way out.” Newt says proudly.

“How long have they been looking?”

“Three years.” He admits.

“And they haven't found anything?”

“It's a lot easier said than done. Listen. Hear that? It's the maze, changing. It changes

every night.”

“How is that even possible?”

“You can ask the people who put us in here,

if you ever meet the bastards.” He laughs again, “Listen, the truth is… the runners are the only ones who really know what's out there. They are the strongest and the fastest of us all. And it's a good thing, too because if they don't make it back before those doors close then they are stuck out there for the night. And no one has ever survived a night in the maze.” He explained.

“What happens to them?” Greenie asked.

“Well, we call them Grievers. Of course, no one's ever seen one and lived to tell about it.

But they're out there. Right, that's enough

questions for one night. Come on. You're supposed to be the guest of honor.” Newt jumps up to his feet, “Let me show you around. Come on.” the pair start walking back to the camp fire.

“And there we got the builders. They're very good with their hands...but not a lot going on upstairs.” He chuckled. “And then we got Winston… he's the Keeper of the Slicers. And we got two med-jacks, Clint and Jeff.”

He pointed at the two guys sitting close by.

“They spend most of their time bandaging up the slicers.”

“And whose she, why is she the only girl?” Greenie asked pointing his head your way.

“That's y/n we don't know why she's the only girl, but cross her and if she doesn't kill you the tiger will.”

“What if I want to be a runner?” Greenie asked.

“Have you listened to a word I've just said? No one wants to be a runner. And, besides,

you gotta get chosen.” He shrugs.

“Chosen by who?” at that moment the kid Gally was sparing with came tumbling out of the circle and knocked into Greenie.

“What do you say, Greenie? Wanna see what

you're made of?” Gally asked, the firelight making the thin layer of sweat on his forehead glow.

As they start pushing at each other you walk up to the circle. The boys part for you allowing you space. Gally knocks the Greenie to the floor and you see something change in his eyes.

“Thomas. Thomas. Hey! Thomas!” He gets to his feet once more, “I remember my name. I'm Thomas!”

“Thomas!” Alby shouts.

“Welcome home, Thomas.” Newt claps him on the shoulder.

“Good job... Thomas.” Gally smiles shaking his hand.

Next chapter

@fandomfan-102 @deanstolemydragon @afalls14universe

[in-need-of-gally-content]

|Chapter•Thirty•Six|

•|Masterlist|•

"We got a Runner!"

The sound of Zart's voice caught his attention, snapping him out of his thoughts. He inched closer to the edge and looked down toward the Box.

Everyone was gathered around it, staring in a certain direction and cheering something on. He followed their line of sight and caught sight of the new greenie running in a random direction, he took notice of how fast he was, but the greenie was soon rolling on the grass as he tripped over his own two feet.

The cheering continued for a few seconds as the greenie began standing back up, "Take it all in!" Someone said, and (M/n) watched the moment the greenie realized where he was.

There was a momentary silence in the Glade, until Billy's voice was heard loud and clear, "To the pit, greenie!"

And like that, Billy, accompanied by Sean and Derek, grabbed the greenie and began dragging him to the pit, despite his best efforts to release himself from their hold. Well, now he could go back to enjoying the peace and quiet that was so weird around this place, sighing at the relaxing feeling of the breeze brushing against his skin.

///////

A while later, (M/n) closed his journal and put it back inside its bag, picking it up as well as his camera and he made his way down the Watchtower, lazily walking over to the Box, where Gally and Chuck were playing nearby.

Both of them had wide smiles on their faces and (M/n) instinctively raised the camera up to his face and made sure to capture the moment, chuckling to himself as he observed them having fun.

And he noticed that Chuck wasn't with the greenie.

(M/n) walked closer toward them and leaned his side against a tree, "Where's the greenie?" Gally stopped swinging Chuck side to side, and they stared at him, squinting because of the sun.

"Alby is giving him the tour," Chuck pointed somewhere behind (M/n), making him turn to check and indeed, Alby was showing him around the Glade.

The greenie looked around with curious and confused eyes, feeling a little disoriented at everything happening around him, "For a second I thought you had the chops to be a Runner... Till you face-planted, that was great," the blond chuckled and the greenie looked at him.

"Wait... Runner?" He noticed their facial expressions change.

"Newt, do me a favour? Go find Chuck," and like that, Newt began walking away.

The greenie turned around, his sight trailing on him, only to get distracted by someone else. "Who is he?"

Alby turned to the greenie and noticed he was staring at something- someone behind him, following his line of sight, and Alby realized he was looking at (M/n).

He sighed and put his hand on the greenie's shoulder, trying to get him to focus back on the tour, "Listen here, greenbean, if there's someone here you shouldn't mess with is him, so you better not try anything stupid, you hear me?" Slightly scared at the sudden change in Alby's voice, he nodded without a word, "(M/n)'s been through a lot of klunk since the day he arrived, and he doesn't need more on his plate."

The greenie nodded, understanding what Alby said, but for some reason, he didn't seem to be able to stop looking in his direction every few minutes. He wasn't sure why but... (M/n) brought him a sense of serenity and warmth which he couldn't understand.

Do they know each other? How could that be possible?

He felt the need to talk to him as soon as possible, feeling almost captivated by (M/n) in a way he couldn't comprehend.

"Hope you're not afraid of heights."

///////

"Hey, Chuck," the sound of Newt's voice called the attention of the three, watching them slowly stop playing together, "Alby's looking for you, it's about the greenie."

(M/n) made eye contact with Newt for a split moment before it was broken by the blond, who was unable to look at him for too long.

Newt still hadn't forgiven himself for thinking about getting rid of (M/n)... Even if it was the smallest fleeting thought. It was there.

"Oh, where is he?" Newt began looking around behind him, trying to spot Alby and the greenie wherever they were, but someone spotted them before he could.

"They're up on the tower," (M/n) said with crossed arms, motioning toward the Watchtower with a subtle head movement.

"Alright, I'm going," and like that, Chuck left to grab what he needed before heading toward Alby and the greenie.

There was a tense silence between Newt, Gally and (M/n) the instant Chuck left, and (M/n) cleared his throat, "I'm gonna go help with the bonfire," he muttered, stepping away from the tree he was leaning against.

"I'll come with you," Gally added right after, and they left Newt standing alone.

Before going toward the Builders, (M/n) took a quick detour and dropped his stuff off at this treehouse, he definitely didn't want any of that getting damaged, not when he had been taking good care of his stuff for so long.

After doing that, they quickly got to working, picking up sticks and leaves, finding hay that might've fallen from the roof of all their constructions, "We might have to make a few trips-"

"Oh, (M/n)," they turned at the sound of Stan's voice as he interrupted, and they saw him standing there, his body language tense and he avoided eye contact for a couple of seconds, "We want to help."

Gally and (M/n) looked at each other briefly, before the (h/c) male took the first step and handed all the sticks he gathered to Stan, "Alright, give that to Mikah."

The Keeper nodded and slowly took the sticks out of (M/n)'s hands, Jason coming up behind him to take the ones Gally had and began making their way toward the bonfire.

"Well... That was unexpected..." Gally huffed and frowned, crossing his arms.

"Yeah, he's gonna have to work the rest of his life to make it up to you," (M/n) looked at Gally, a subtle frown on his brow as well, and he slowly nodded.

"Come on, we still have to get more leaves, big guy."

///////

"Finally," (M/n) huffed, both hands placed on his hips, sweat glistening on his skin. Gally chuckled.

"You get used to it," he said as he took a step forward, "Do you wanna walk for a bit?"

Despite feeling some level of tiredness, (M/n) wouldn't say no to enjoying a walk around the Glade. And they did, they were talking about any upcoming structure they would have to build and planning for it.

"Yeah, I think we should ask Alby about it..." (M/n) trailed on and noticed Gally nodding at his words with a subtle frown, probably visualizing what he wanted to do and how he was gonna do it.

Their steps had turned into a slow walk, and each were in their minds, mindlessly observing their surroundings, and that's when (M/n) saw it.

The greenie was standing in front of the Maze Doors, staring far into it as if... In a trance. Chuck was standing a few steps behind him, definitely trying to make sure the greenie wouldn't do anything stupid.

"What's the greenie doing?" His mumble caught Gally's attention, his green eyes turning toward his direction before looking away into the distance, where (M/n) had his sight fixed.

"This shank..." Gally muttered with a clenched jaw and began stomping his way to the greenie, (M/n) following the blond close behind.

Gally's steps had intent, and he was making a beeline straight toward him, which made (M/n) wonder if he should worry about the greenie's wellbeing. However, before he could even consider stopping Gally, (M/n) watched how the greenie literally got flung a good few feet away from where he originally was.

"Ouch," was all (M/n) could whisper to himself at the hard sound his body made the moment it hit the ground.

"We gotta stop meeting like this, greenie," (M/n) stopped close by and decided to observe their interaction before acting.

"Get off of me!" The greenie exclaimed as he kicked Gally away from him, rushing to pick himself up from the ground. (M/n) side-stepped closer to Gally as a way to prevent the greenie from trying to run into the Maze.

"Greenie, calm down," (M/n) tried to get closer to him, maybe trying to help him calm down, but it only made things worse.

"Don't touch me!" By now, the little scene had caught the attention of pretty much every Glader nearby and were quickly making their way over to make sure nothing got too out of hand.

(M/n) had only heard stories of the few greenies weirdly infatuated with the Maze, they were unusual since the majority was deeply perturbed at the mere idea of going out into the Maze. This was the first greenie he met who was interested in the Maze.

He might've been pretty intrigued by it too when he first came up, but never to the point of nearly breaking the rules.

"Hey, what the hell is wrong with you guys?" The greenie exclaimed, clearly frightened and shaken up about what had just happened.

"Just calm down, alright?" Newt's words came out reassuring and soft-spoken, trying to prevent the greenie from getting more agitated than he already was.

However, that didn't work, "No, why won't you tell me what's out there?" (M/n) swallowed as he noticed the greenie stepping back, closer to the Maze. He glanced at Gally and they were ready to stop him in case anything went wrong, they just had to wait a few more seconds and the Doors would close.

Just have to keep him distracted.

"It's for your own good," (M/n) spoke, and the greenie looked over his shoulder at him for a moment before shaking his head rapidly a few times.

"No, you guys can't just keep me here," unfortunately, it seemed like trying to communicate with him wasn't gonna work, worst case, he gets put in the pit again.

"We can't let you leave," Alby spoke with a firm tone, one that was only used when he was in his Leader mode and he needed to be heard and obeyed.

It was obvious this greenie wasn't gonna obey any rules.

"Why not?"

And just like that, the Doors made their alarm sound, catching everyone's attention, and they glanced further beyond the Doors, into the Maze. The wind picked up, making them look away as the greenie finally quieted down, "What the hell?" He whispered to himself right before the Doors began doing their usual thing.

Closing for the night.

Heavy silence fell in the Glade as they observed the Doors closing at their pace, before finally staying closed shut.

"Next time..." (M/n)'s attention turned to Gally, the blond had stepped closer to the greenie, and was probably gonna make his way further into the Glade, "I'm gonna let you leave."

He frowned and went after Gally, standing next to him as they walked together, "That wasn't nice."

Gally looked at him for a moment before staring further behind (M/n), where the greenie was still stuck in place.

"He's only gonna bring problems."

(M/n) really wanted to give the greenie the benefit of the doubt, after all, it was his first day around, and he still had things to learn, but something told him, in the back of his mind...

That Gally was right.

///////

The night had settled in the Glade and the bonfire was as lively as ever.

He was standing around, just mindlessly observing Gally having fun with the guys in the fighting circle and... Something about the whole scene he was observing made him realize one thing.

He was ready to tell Gally how he felt. He wanted to confess, no longer worried about the possibility of being rejected, because... He was certain the feeling was mutual, so... It was worth a shot, or so he thought.

"Oh!" The hollering caught his attention and he went back to observing the fight, joining in whenever Gally would swing Archie around as if he weighed nothing, "Ooh~!" The crowd got louder at the next swing, which ended up tripping Archie outside the circle, and now it was someone else's turn to fight the Keeper of the Builders.

While a new opponent decided they were brave enough to fight Gally, (M/n) looked around for a few seconds, and spotted Newt with the greenie. They were walking around and talking, or at least Newt was doing the talking, as it seemed like he was doing quick presentations, and he was right.

He took a deep breath when he heard them standing to the side behind him and took a swing of his drink and continued watching Gally fighting his new opponent, Theo.

"What if I want to be a Runner?" Greenie's words made (M/n) stop his arm halfway down after swallowing another sip of his drink, and he frowned, subtly turning his head to the side.

"Have you not heard a word I said? No one wants to be a Runner," (M/n) turned his head more to face them the exact moment Theo's body got flung away and crashed into the greenie.

Thankfully, no one seemed badly injured other than maybe a bruise that will show up in the morning. (M/n) reached his hand out to help Theo back up on his feet, who took it and mumbled a 'thank you' to him.

(M/n) turned back to look at Gally again, and he seemed to be slightly out of breath, but he still had energy, that was a fact.

"What you say, greenie? Wanna see what you're made of?" A grin grew on (M/n)'s face as cheering around began echoing in the Glade, everyone around getting closer to watch as they hyped the greenie to get him to fight Gally.

And he ended up agreeing to it. Although not exactly willingly.

(M/n) took another sip of his drink, "This will be interesting," he muttered mostly to himself, but the small movement Newt made while standing next to him was enough to let him know his words had been heard.

"Alright. The rules are simple, greenie," Gally said as he fixed his wrist brace, getting into a more appropriate position to start the fight, "I try to push you out of the circle, you try last more than five seconds," (M/n) chuckled as he remembered how much Gally loved to stir up the greenie during their first night in the Glade.

"Go easy on the greenie, Gally," he heard one of the guys say between chuckles and he shook his head with a smirk.

"Ready?" Gally asked and the greenie gave a barely noticeable nod, which Gally took immediate advantage of.

He charged at the greenie and pushed him to collide directly with the Glader wall behind him. He got pushed back toward Gally, who made sure the greenie would fall face-first into the sand.

"Come on, greenie, we're not done yet," they watched as the greenie found his way back onto his feet and fixed his shirt for a moment, probably trying to get rid of some of the sand he got on him.

"Stop calling me greenie," (M/n) raised his eyebrows at that. He never felt like there was anything bad with being called 'greenie' but he guessed to each their own.

"Stop calling you that?" Gally's mocking question brought him back to the present moment, "What do you wanna be called? Shank?" The Glade erupted in laughter at Gally's words, and (M/n) shook his head before taking the last sip of his drink, "What do you think, boys? Does he look like a shank?"

The greenie ran toward Gally, definitely pissed off at the nickname, but it didn't result well for him. Gally got a hold of him and while they did some half turns here and there as they struggled- the greenie struggled, Gally ended up throwing him to the ground and making him roll around on the sand.

"You know what? I think I've settled on shank," once again, the greenie stood up and made his move to run at Gally and hold his lower half, however, he didn't have enough strength to push him back, so instead, he let Gally take himself down by stepping away and making the blond lose his balance.

"Ooh!" Everyone exclaimed, caught off guard but highly entertained at the sight of Gally getting taken down. By a greenie.

(M/n) watched surprised how Gally stayed on the ground, clearly annoyed at how their fight had turned, "Well done, greenie!" He heard the faint sound of Alby's voice cheering the greenie, and watched how he stood up on his feet for the third time now.

With a glance down at Gally, (M/n) knew... That greenie was about to get dropped, judging by the look on Gally's face.

"Not bad for a greenie, uh?" He didn't even get to enjoy the short moment of victory as Gally kicked his feet off the ground from under him, causing the greenie to fall and hit his head hard on the ground.

"That's gonna hurt in the morning..." (M/n) heard Newt chuckle next to him when he heard his words.

"Bloody sure it will." They laughed for a short moment, completely ignoring the greenie on the ground, who was starting to stand up, yet again.

Damn, he had been on the ground more than he had been on his feet, kinda crazy.

"Hey!" He screamed and got everyone's attention, the Glade getting quieter, "Thomas! I remember my name... I'm Thomas!"

(M/n) felt his body freeze as cheering filled the place as everyone else was happy that the greenie had remembered his name so soon.

He was sure he had stopped breathing for a few seconds, staring at the greenie, the sound of his name echoing inside his mind, all those blurry images from his dreams finally becoming clear.

He felt like his stomach had risen all the way up to his throat, and he wasn't sure he could remain standing for much longer. Everything felt distant, faded. All the sounds around him were muffled, as if he was underwater, his vision was blurry and unfocused, his whole body getting covered in goosebumps.

He wanted to run away, but his legs weren't responding to his wishes, so all he did was stand stuck in place, his mind a complete mess of jumbled thoughts and questions, trying to a logical answer to what was happening.

"Why is he here...?"

(M/n) remained stuck in place for what felt like forever, but in reality, it was only a couple of seconds, and the loud shriek of a griever was the only thing that brought him back and out of the loop his mind had him stuck in.

"Let's tuck it in for the night, come on, it was a good night," Alby doing the last call was the flip (M/n) needed to finally take a step forward, and with wobbly legs, make his way to his treehouse, completely ignoring anyone that stared at him as he walked away.

He needed time to digest everything that happened in the past five minutes.

///////

Unfortunately, (M/n) found it almost impossible to fall asleep that night. He was lying in bed, staring at the wooden ceiling, unable to close his eyes and empty his mind.

His consciousness was a mess, and he needed rest which he wasn't sure he was gonna get, but it was worth the try.

He sat up on his bed and turned on his lamp, reaching for his journal and opening it, skimming through the pages where he wrote about his nightmares, dreams and memories. They were mostly the same thing, but a lot of things had become clearer in a way.

The reason why they sent Thomas to the Glade was a mystery, and that question will probably never be answered, but he focused on reading the most detailed memories he wrote more attentively.

Like the nightmare from the night before.

It was clear it happened a determined amount of time before finding himself going through that long hallway on his way to the Box.

But knowing who Thomas -the guy in his memories- was, wasn't exactly a good thing. After all, Thomas had hurt Gally more than once before, intentionally so.

Thinking about everything made his blood boil with anger and only worked to give him a headache so he huffed, deciding he would analyze stuff better in the morning, maybe try and sleep the night away.

After all, he and Gally had a pending conversation that could help ease some questions he had about the new greenie named Thomas.

[heliads]

Never Trust Your Friends

Y/N might have feelings for Newt, the newly arrived blond runner. Newt might have feelings for Y/N, the second in command who’s been in the Glade longer than anyone except Alby. When Minho and Alby assign them both to work together on a project, they’re sure it won’t end well.

masterlist

If he were smart, Newt would not be staring. He would be focused on his friends, on the bubble of chatter surrounding him. He would most certainly not be staring at the girl and boy across the Glade who stand together, speaking in hushed tones. They’re leaning against a wall of the Homestead, exchanging words as their eyes cut across the Glade, lingering on different people. Alby gestures towards the scraggly woods of the Deadheads and says something, Y/N nods and counters his point. But Newt doesn’t know any of this, because he is decidedly not looking at them. Not at all.

There’s a laugh from behind him, and Newt belatedly turns to see Minho striding up next to him. “If you spend any more time focusing at Y/N instead of your food, Frypan’s going to burst into tears.” Newt glares at his friend. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Minho just grins. “I’m sure you don’t. Are you obsessed with Alby instead? Is that why you keep looking over at them?” Newt shoves Minho, but the dark-haired boy just laughs harder.

Maybe Newt’s not exactly being subtle. Yet even after Minho walks away, still chuckling quietly to himself, Newt’s gaze flickers back to Y/N and Alby. Their heads are bowed in conversation as they talk over every aspect of life in the Glade. Alby’s first in command and Y/N is second, and between the two of them, they’ve managed to make life here in the Maze make sense. At least, as well as you can when you’re a group of teenagers living in a giant bugging labyrinth.

Alby was the first one to show up in the Glade. Newt can’t even begin to imagine what it must have been like to arrive in the Box, utterly alone except for the shrieks of the Grievers at night. Y/N came up next, and the two of them had to figure out how to survive with no one else around. They don’t trust anyone as well as they trust each other, although that’s no surprise. They had each other’s backs when nothing made sense, and their friendship has only grown as more and more people arrived at the Glade.

Some days, Newt wonders if he could have been able to do the same- show up in the Glade with only one other person and not lose his bloody mind. No matter how hard it was, how many times they came close to giving in, Y/N and Alby still managed to set up the Glade and all of its rules, which have lasted the months until now. Newt came up a couple months after them, and he’s been able to watch as Y/N and Alby shape the very lifestyle of the Glade.

Somehow, it doesn’t surprise Newt that Y/N and Alby were the first ones sent up through the Box. He doubts anyone else could have managed the daunting task of running the Glade and keeping everyone in line. Newt can still see them now, where they always meet at the end of the day to run through everything that happened and make mental checklists of what needs to be accomplished tomorrow. Newt is lucky he’s a runner- all he has to do is keep moving. Y/N and Alby have to consider the wellbeing of every single one of these poor shanks, and Newt just wears holes in his trainers alongside Minho.

Newt stands up, stretching. He hands his empty plate to Frypan, heading back towards the Map Room to make sure the day’s run has been properly catalogued. Just before he disappears into the only half-completed wooden hut, Newt glances over his shoulder one last time. A slight smile appears on his face when he sees Y/N. Of all the Gladers, she might just be his favorite.

You’re considering a tomato plant in front of you when you first see them. Today, you’ve been directed to work with the track-hoes: some slinthead was fool enough to mess with the builders and now he’s spending the day under the watchful gaze of the Med-jacks. There are barely enough track-hoes as it is, so you’ll be filling in the spot until the guy heals sufficiently to garden once more. That’s the role of a second-in-command, you suppose, doing whatever needs to be done.

The tomato plant in question is finally ripe. You’ve been eyeing it for a couple of days now, and you think it looks good. You reach for a makeshift basket, propping it up on your hip while you pluck the crimson red vegetables (or is it fruits?) from the stem. A sudden movement beyond the rows of plants distracts you, and you look up to see the figures of two boys running through the Glade, having just left the towering walls of the Maze behind them. Newt and Minho, done with their day’s work as Runners.

They spot you and smile, and you raise a hand in greeting. You do your best to look casual, effortlessly cool, but you’re not sure that you’ve succeeded. Your eyes linger on Newt for maybe a second longer than they should, and you watch as the boys head towards the Map Room while their path is still locked in their memory. You thought no one else was around to witness the blush creeping onto your cheeks, but if there’s one thing you should have learned throughout all of your months in the Glade, it’s that nothing will ever go your way. Ever.

Alby leans a hand against the tomato plant in front of you, startling you from your thoughts. You do your best to quell your flinch of surprise, but it’s no good. He’s already grinning with barely suppressed laughter. “I thought you were supposed to be staring at the tomatoes, not the Runners.” You hit him with your gardening glove, but it does nothing to staunch the gleam of triumph in his eyes. “Am I not allowed to greet my friends? Should I turn my back and ignore them instead?”

Alby crosses his arms on his chest. “I didn’t realize greeting your friends involved watching the blond one from the second he entered the Glade.” You look around frantically, making sure Zart and the others can’t hear you, before reaching to swat Alby once more, although this time he’s expecting it and dodges out of the way. He frowns at you. “Hey, rule number two. Never hurt another Glader. I thought you were the one who came up with that.”

You shoot him a look. “I wrote that rule before you started making fun of me. If you’re not careful I’ll revoke it.” Alby shakes his head. “Afraid not. I outrank you.” You mutter something under your breath. “Not if I get rid of you first. I’d have to replace you.” Alby just grins. “If you kill me, you’ll have to explain a homicide to Newt. How would he like you then?” You can only hope that Newt is still in the Map Room, because otherwise the blond boy would see you chasing a laughing Alby out of the gardens with an outraged shout.

It’s a new month, a new day. Newt hears the loud alarm of the Box before he sees it show up, and he and a few others make their way to the center of the Glade to see what new Greenie has been brought before them. He and Minho had managed to get through their section early, so they get to witness the arrival of the latest Greenbean along with the others. About ten minutes later, there’s a shuddering jolt as the Box locks into position.

Newt helps the others fling the doors to the Box open, and just like clockwork, a boy lies on the ground, flung back by the force of the Box coming to a stop. He squints up at the Gladers lining the edge of the Box, blinded by the sunlight. Gally jumps into the Box, offering a hand and the usual declaration- “Day one, Greenie. Rise and shine.”

The Greenie looks as confused as anyone else. He’s tall, with dirty blond hair and a faded off-white t-shirt. The guy’s apparently got the chops to be a runner, as he takes off in a sprint the second his feet touch the ground of the Glade. He doesn’t go far, though, too stunned by the looming walls of the Maze to leave the grassy clearing. Later, Newt hears him shout out his name in a stunned gasp- Ben, Newt thinks he said.

Some Glader arrives to take the Greenie on a tour, so Newt turns his attention back to the Box and the crates awaiting attention within. Newt sees Minho head over to Alby, and the Runner says a few words in a low whisper. Identical, crafty grins spread over both of the boys’ faces, and a sudden feeling of dread rolls over in Newt’s stomach as the boys glance over at him. Alby steps forward. “Okay, you know the drill. Time to check the contents of the Box. This time, the lucky shanks will be, uh, Y/N and Newt.”

Newt stares at Minho in barely suppressed outrage, while his friend does his best to contain a laugh. Newt can practically read the boy’s mind- You won’t talk to her yourself, I’ll do it for you. After a second’s hesitation, Newt strides over, jumping down into the Box and landing with a mild impact on the metal floor. Y/N leaps down a few moments after him, and Newt can hear the sound of the other Gladers returning to their usual jobs above them. Within seconds, it’s just Newt and Y/N in the Box. What is he supposed to do now?

The only thing he can do is what Alby asked him to do- unload the crates of supplies. Y/N pulls a worn pad of paper from her pocket, flipping to a fresh sheet and beginning to jot down the contents. Newt helps to pry open some boxes, checking what’s inside and reporting back. After the fifth box or so, Y/N groans, leaning against the cool metal walls of the Box as a reprieve from the boredom of the tasks. “Shuck, I hate Greenie Day.”

Newt smiles in spite of himself. “Because of the Box or because of the greenie?” Y/N glances over at him. “Both. Too many boxes, and now some new guy’s going to follow me around all day asking questions.” Newt leans over a nearby crate, trying and failing to drum up the energy to continue cataloging the supplies. “Hey, you made Alby go take the tour with the Greenie. That puts the majority of the questions on him.”

Y/N smirks at that. “It’s what he deserves for making me do manual labor.” Newt frowns. “You work with the track-hoes all the time.” Y/N flashes him a grin that makes Newt’s heart freeze in his chest. “That’s different.” Newt returns her grin. “Is it, or are you just complaining?” Y/N sticks her tongue out at him, but she stands up and continues on to the next crate. “I’m ignoring that.” When she hands him another box, their hands touch briefly, and Newt’s distracted from all thoughts of greenies and track-hoes or anything in this bloody Maze. Maybe Minho isn’t so bad after all for sending him down here.

You’re going to kill Alby. There’s no question about it. You’re going to kill him, and there’s nothing he can do to stop you. He knew exactly what he was doing when he sent you down here, and that triumphant smirk on his face when he announced you’d be working with Newt was just the icing on the cake. Of course he’d send you down to the enclosed box with the boy you’ve been crushing on since he arrived here- Alby’s out for blood. Why would he pass up such a golden, perfect, absolutely ruthless opportunity?

It’s all you can do to focus on the crates. You’re gripping the pad of paper like it’s a lifesaver, and honestly, it just might be. Every moment that you spend meticulously copying down the supplies is a moment that you don’t spend looking over at Newt, and the way his golden hair flops down just slightly over his eyes, or the way his arms move when he’s lifting the boxes, or that slight curve of a smile when he looks over at you-

Yes, there’s no question about it- you’re absolutely smitten. If you weren’t sure before, you’re positive now. You do your best to focus on the work at hand instead of the unfairly attractive boy next to you, but it only does so much. That being said, there are enough crates to last far longer than you’d want. The light of late afternoon is shifting into dusk, and by the time Newt is tossing the final crate out onto the grass of the Glade, it’s dark enough that the walls of the Box seem to melt away into the dimly lit air.

Newt stretches his arms. “Well, I’m glad that’s over.” You can’t help a joke. “I can’t wait for next month.” He frowns. “You’re the second in command, aren’t you? Just write us out of this job in particular.” You roll your eyes. “Even second in commands have to follow the rules, even if I’d rather break them.” Newt grins, leaning casually against the wall. “I’ve seen the amount of stuff you and Alby have to handle. I think it would be alright if you skipped out on Box duty every now and then.”

You consider him for a second. “I like the way you think. Honestly, I think you would make a good second in command. If you ever get tired of being a Runner, the position is always open.” Newt shakes his head. “What about you? I can’t take your job away.” You shrug. “I’d step aside for you. You’re the only one in this entire Glade that I think could handle it.”

Newt straightens up, stepping away from the wall to move closer to you. “You mean it?” You stare at him, at the few inches separating him from you. “Yes. I trust you.” Newt nods slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. Then, as if on an impulse, he leans forward and kisses you. You barely have a moment to realize it’s happening before he breaks away, something like regret beginning to color his eyes. “I didn’t mean to- I’m sorry-”

You cut off his whispers by kissing him again. This time, he doesn’t lean away, not for a while. The two of you stay there, arms wrapped around each other as the darkness falls fully against you, until the lights of the bonfire begin to blaze through the night. Newt smiles down at you, eyes shining with the starlight. “We should probably go before Minho and Alby come to see why we’re taking so long.” You laugh at that. “I’d hate to give them the satisfaction of being right.” Newt shares your laugh, then bends down to kiss you one last time before jumping out of the Box. You watch him as he stands there, silhouette barely visible against the dark, and when he extends a hand down to help you up, you take it without a second’s hesitation.

[myocsfanfictions]

Caged - Maze Runner Fanfiction

Waking up in a dark place, not knowing where you are, why you’re there, who you are. Feeling lost, feeling caged. That’s what happened to all of them, that’s what happened to her. And it will always going to happen.

Will they ever feel free, even if caged inside?

MASTERLIST

Chapter 2

Present day 

“Was it necessary? To put him in the slammer?” She asked while sitting on the grass watching Newt kneeling to put some plants in the ground.  

“Don’t kneel like that” she said looking at his leg.  

Newt chuckled fixing his posture before turning to her. 

“You’ve seen him back there” he said “He made quite the dash; we can’t risk for him to run in the maze” Marie turned her head towards the slammers. They decided to build those cages in the ground to keep on track the most problematic boys. 

“I know but leaving him in there, it’s not very welcoming, Newt” 

“I know” he said turning to her “We are not having fun, either”  

Marie glanced at him “I’ve seen you all having your fun back there” 

Newt laughed making her smile “It was a little bit fun. You can admit it” 

“You are terrible” she said mocking his British accent. 

“So funny” he answered sarcastically, but the smirk never leaving his lips. She smiled, but she still remembered how she felt in that box. Hopeless and scared, without memories, not even her own name. Marie couldn’t help but feel sympathetic towards the new greenies. That was one of the reasons she decided to be a med-jack, she wanted to make the boys feel better even just with a smile. She wanted for them to know that she understood what they were feeling. Boys being boys liked to hide everything from the others. They were all feeling the same there. 

“Hey” she heard Newt walking to her and kneeling in front of her taking one of her hands in his “It’s going to be alright, Marie” he said “We are family, he’ll feel home soon enough. Like the rest of us” she nodded looking in his eyes that then lighted up “How could he not? We are adorable” she let out a laugh at that squeezing his hand. 

Then she moved closer to him “Don’t kneel like that” Newt groaned with a laugh. 

“You’ve ruined the mood” he kissed her nose when they heard Alby calling Marie’s name. The two of them turned to see Alby walking towards them. 

“I’m on my break” Marie said immediately making Newt chuckle standing up to come back to work. 

“I’ve talked to Clint” Alby said ignoring what she had said “I need your help, today” 

“With the greenie?” She asked kindly. 

“He seemed over the edge, I’m sure your presence will help” sometimes she did that, boys calmed down with a girl around and since Marie was the only girl in the Glade, there wasn’t much of a choice for Alby. 

“Alright” she said standing up ready to follow Alby. Before she started to walk, she turned to Newt that nodded his head at her with a smile. Marie returned the gesture before running after Alby. 

“Are you worried?” Marie asked the gladers’ leader since he didn’t spoke a word. 

“It’s just… We’ve been doing this for three years” he answered biting his lips “There must be a point in all of this” she looked down knowing perfectly what he felt. She and Newt sometimes talked about it, she tried not to bring that topic too often though. They had to be positive. There must be a meaning for all of this. 

Marie smiled to Alby before he knelt down in front of the cage. She heard the greenie gasp inside the slammer. 

“Hey, there greenbean” Alby said “We’re not going to run away, ok?” Marie didn’t hear an answer but he must had nodded because Alby opened the cage. Like always he asked the questions, the same questions that had always the same answers. Then Alby offered his hand to the new boy to take and after a moment the greenie was out. He looked around before his eyes landed on Marie who smiled. 

“Greenbean, this is Marie” Alby said “She’ll be with us during the tour”  

“Hi” she said sweetly. 

“You’re a girl” the greenie said in confusion and Marie nodded at that. Everyone said that when they saw her. She remembered that when the greenie after her arrived they were all expecting another girl, but it was a boy. As was the next one and the next one and sixty other times. She felt good with those boys, she felt safe, but sometimes she really wished for a girl to be there in the Glade, someone who was similar to her. 

“How are you feeling?” She asked “Do you feel dizzy? Headache?”  

“The dizziness is fading” the greenie said unsure. 

“Get used to these questions with me” Marie said with a laugh to easy the mood. 

“Marie is a Med-jack” Alby said “She takes care of us. Now come on, let’s go” 

“What’s a Med-jack?” The greenie asked Marie while walking. 

“We are like doctors. Well kind of” she answered “If the boys get hurt we are the ones who patch them up” the boy nodded is head “But there are a lot of jobs in the glade” two boys passed by and Marie waved at them who did the same. 

“Jobs?” he asked. 

“Yeah” Alby said “Here everyone does his part, everyday. That’s how this all happened”  

Marie looked around, when she arrived they had just a little shelter to sleep, now they had the camp where they slept, the kitchen, the homestead where they gatered, the bloodhouse, for the animals, the gardens… It was a little community of people who lived peacefully together. 

“We eat here and sleep here” Alby pointing around “We grow our own food. We built our own shelter” 

Marie nodded “Working together is important for us” Marie said “But listen to Alby and the Keepers” 

“Keepers?” The greenie asked. 

“Each job has a keeper, it’s the person in charge” Marie explained. When more boys started to arrive they needed to mantain order and Alby couldn’t keep an eye on everyone, so while Alby was the leader and Newt became second in command, since he came up as second, the other six became the keepers: Gally for the Buildlers, Clint for the Med-jacks, Zart for the Trak-hoes, Wiston for the Slicers, Frypan for the Cooks and Minho for the Runners. She didn’t mind that she wasn’t a keeper, because they never cut her out from their gaterings. Being the only girl made them to have a special care for her, but they respected her and her opinions so they let her partecipate at the keepers’ gatering. 

“And whatever else we need the Box provides us. The rest is up to us” At Alby words Marie pointed at the Box for the greenie to see. 

“Once in a month we get fresh supplies and one new greenie” Alby continued with a small smile “This month it’s you. Congratulation” 

“Sent up? By who?” The greenie asked “Who put us here?” Marie took a breath; the hard questions had begun, but receiving the answers was even harder. When Alby explained to Marie the things they knew at that time had been awful, came to know that someone locked them in that place. But nothing was as awful as to come to know that they were surrounded by a giant maze. 

“We don’t know” Alby said. The greenie looked confused and then he turned to Marie that nodded her head as to say that Alby was right. 

“Hey, you alright Alby?” At Newt’s voice Marie couldn’t help but smile. He walked, limping slightly till he stopped at her side “You alright?” He asked with a smile to her, that nodded. 

“Greenbean, meet Newt” Alby introduced while the two boys shook their hands “When I’m not around he is in charge” 

“It’s a good thing you are always around then” Newt said with a smirk and Marie rolled her eyes in amusement. Newt was too modest. 

“You made quite the dash earlier” Newt looked back at greenie “For a second I thought you had the chops to be a runner, until you faceplam there”  

She knew he would have said something like that “You’re being rude” Marie said with a smirk. 

He chuckled turning to her “No, that was great” 

“Runner?” At the greenie’s question Marie and Newt looked at each other. That was too soon, probably. 

“Do me a favor, Newt; go find Chuck” Alby said with a small smile. 

“Alright” Newt muttered before smiling lightly down at Marie and starting to walk away. 

“He should be next to the kitchen” Marie said to Newt who looked back at her “He should be washing pans with the cooks” 

Newt smiled nodding “Thanks, love”  

They walked to the watchtower where surely Alby would have told the three main rules in the Glade. She looked the greenie and he seemed calmed down, so when they arrived at the wooden building Marie spoke “You sure you are good?” She asked once again. 

“Yeah I’m fine” he answered. Marie nodded before turning to Alby. 

“He is good, Alby,” she said with a knowing look “Do I have to stay more?” 

Alby smlied before shaking his head “No, it’s alright” he said “Thank you, Marie” 

“Don’t mention it” she said “I’ll see the both of you later” and then she started to walk back to the Med-hut. That greenie surely wasn’t afraid of asking questions, he studied everything around him. She really hoped he would helped them in the future. 

She thought about the three rules. Those were the rules that held them together, that made them grow even as a family. They prevented them from getting in danger or hurt. A lot of boys got hurt in those years, so they had become very strict and whoever broke them got punished. 

She laughed lightly when she saw Chuck bringing around all the stuffs for the greenie. It had so much in his arms that surely something would have fallen down. 

“Careful with these, Chuck” Marie said, he could barely look ahead of him. 

“It’s alright, Marie” he said happily “I can manage” Chuck liked to feel useful so now that he was the former greenie he had the responsibility to set up the things for tonight for the new bean. 

“They are at the watchtower, right?” he asked fixing his hold on the things in his hands. 

“Yup” Marie nodded “Sure you don’t need a hand?”  

“No” he said confidently “I can do it” Marie looked at him walk away with light giggling. Chuck was like the little brother that everyone needed. 

She didn’t walk much before she arrive next to the kitchen, where Frypan was already bossing around the other cooks. 

“Already at work Fry?” Marie said leaning on the wooden table. Fry turn towards her and smiled. 

“Tonight it’s the bonfire” he exclaimed with joy. The bonfire was the special night the gladers set once a month with the greenie’s arrival. They had more supplies and medicines too; so there was a lot to celebrate. 

“Gally has already set the wood for the fire” he pointed at the center of the Glade. By the amount of wood they would have had a big fire that night. 

“And moonshine?” she asked with a frown, making Fry burst into laughing. Moonshine was Gally’s drink secrets recipe. Three year of that stuff and three year that she couldn’t drink it. It was disgusting, she preferred water, but most of the gladers had grown to like that. 

Suddenly someone gasped behind Frypan. 

“Harry are you alright?” he asked walking closer and immediately Marie followed him. Harry was there, one of his fingers was bleeding. 

“Oh God, stay away from the tomatoes!” Fry exclaimed taking away the bowl full of tomatoes. Harry was thirteen and his eyes started to water. 

“Harry” Marie said sweetly taking a bowl and filled it with water “It’s alright, let me see it” she washed his finger with clean water to see what was the damage. It was less bad that it seemed a band-aid would have been just fine. 

“There is nothing to worry about” she said with an encouraging smile before opening her later bag to take out a band-aid. She carefully wrapped it around his finger “See, all done” she said “It will bleed a bit but tomorrow morning come to the Med-hut so we can change your band. 

He nodded “Thanks, Marie” 

“Don’t mention it” she smiled before turning to Fry. She then saw the sky starting to get colored with a faint orange. She hadn’t realized how late it was. 

“Are the runners got back?” Marie asked the keeper of the cooks. 

“Yeah” he said nodding keeping chopping vegetables “But Minho and Ben are still outside” it was getting late, the doors were about to close. She really hoped they had come back. 

“I have to go” she said heading out “I’ll see you later” She had told Minho to go to the Med-hut as soon as he got back. She was walking on the field when she noticed Chuck and the greenie close to the maze door. Why were they there?  

Her eyes widened when she saw the greenie walking towards the entrance of the maze. She was about to move when Gally rushed pushing the greenie roughly on the ground.  

Marie found herself sprinting “Gally!” 

The boy turned over her “He was..” but before he could speak the greenie pushed Gally away. 

“Get off me” then he stood up like he wanted to get out of the Glade. 

“No wait you can’t go out there” Marie said trying to stop him by the arm but he pushed her hand away “Don’t touch me”  

“Hey, calm down!” Gally almost roared still trying to stop the boy from walking into the maze. The greenie was causing so much noise that soon most of the boys ran to them. 

Newt had just arrived with Alby when the greenie yelled “What the hell is wrong with you guys?!” 

“Just calm down, alright?”Newt said. 

“Why don’t you tell me what’s out there?” Marie covered her mouth with her hand truly afraid that that boy would run into the maze. 

“We are just trying to protect you” Alby yelled trying to bring the greenie attention to himself. 

“It’s for your own good” Newt spoke again. 

“You guys can’t just keep me here” the greenie argued. 

“We can’t let you leave!” Ably exclaimed. 

“Why?” but before someone could answer him a loud noise roared in the Glade and soon enough the doors started to close in front of them. It was always a strange moment for her, she knew those walls were keeping them safe, but like that she truly felt in a cage. 

“Hey, you alright?” Gally asked making her look up. 

She smiled lightly at him “He was just scared, Gally. I’m ok” 

“He shouldn’t have pushed you” he said before the door closed finally. He then walked to the greenie “Next time, I’m gonna let you leave” he said before walking away. Marie looked at Gally before walking to Newt who was heading towards her. 

She felt sorry for the greenie, coming to know what was out there was the worst part of arriving in the Glade. 

“You ok?” Newt asked putting his hands on her arms. 

Marie took a breath putting a strand of her dark hair behind her ear “Tough day” Newt smiled sweetly at her taking her hand. 

“Let’s go lay down before the bonfire” Marie nodded with a thankful smile squeezing his hand, he always knew how to make her feel better. Then theystarted to walk to their hammock. 

***** 

Three years before 

“A maze” she said looking blankly ahead of her. 

“Yeah” Alby said nodding his head. 

“We’ve been put in a maze and we have to get out” she said trying to process everything that Alby had told her. Who would do such thing? Why them? 

“Why do they close?” the girl asked pointing at the door that had just close before them. 

“Outside there are…things” a shiver ran down her spine. 

She was afraid to ask but she had to, she had to understand “Things?”  

“We named them the grivers” Alby said kicking the dirt in frustration “Those walls are the only thing that keeps us safe from them”  

She put her head in her hands, that was too much “God this must be a nightmare”  

“I’m sorry” at those words she looked at Alby, he had been there for six months he was probably the one who was suffering more. 

“It’s not your fault” she said putting a strand of hair behind her ear “It’s just a lot to take”  

Alby nodded “Come on, you must be tired” she couldn’t argue with that, she just wanted to lay down and sleep “Gally has surely set something up” 

Indeed Gally had set for her an hammock behind a curtain. 

“It’s not much” he said leaning against a three with his arms crossed over his chest “I thought you might wanted some privacy” 

“That was very kind of you” she said sitting on the hammock that swinged slightly “Thank you” 

He looked at her for a moment before nodding his head “Yeah well” he said starting to walk away. 

“Goodnight” she called after him shaking her shoulder, then she laied down and very fast she fall asleep.  

When in the morning Alby woke her up she felt restored, like that had been the better sleep she had had in her life. Not that she could remember others anyway. 

“No name yet?” Minho asked eating his breakfast and she shook her head. 

“Don’t worry” Wiston said with an encouraging smile. 

“I have to ask you something” Alby said making her turn to him and when she nodded he kept going “We are going to run in the maze, but I need you to stay here” 

“You don’t want me to come?” She asked unsure. 

“No we don’t” Gally said finishing his breakfast. She frowned at him. 

Alby glared at him “You are new and usually we don’t let new beans running in there. But I need you to take care of Newt” Newt was the only boy she hadn’t met yet. 

“He got badly injured so he can’t walk right now” she really wanted to help and in all honesty she didn’t feel ready to run in a maze, only the thought made her shiver, but maybe taking care of that boy would have helped them, she really didn’t want to by a burden. 

“Yeah, sure” she said kindly. 

“Good that” Alby said finishing his breakfast. Then he accompanied her where Newt was laying. They had put him on some kind of bed that they had built, behind another curtain next to where the boys slept.  

“Hey, man” Alby said moving the curtain “How you doing?” 

“Good, Alby” she heard a British accent and when she step closer she saw a young boy with blond hair and brown eyes. His gaze fell on her and he frowned in surprise. 

“So it’s true” he said “I thought you all had gone bloody mad” he smiled at her “Hi, I’m Newt” 

“Hi” she smiled back “I’m sorry, I don’t really know my name” 

He nodded understanding “It’s alright. It’ll come back”  

Alby step closer to the boy putting a hand on his shoulder “She will stay with you today, while we’re…” Alby hesitated and diverted his eyes from Newt. There was something strange, something unspoken, something they didn’t want to talk about. 

“Running” Newt finished for his friend “Good that” he said with a small smile, but there wasn’t joy in Newt’s eyes. 

“I’ll see you later” Alby said to him before walking to the girl that was still looking at Newt “We’ll be back soon” she turned to Alby nodding with a light smile. 

Then she turned to look at Newt; he was set down laying with his back against the trunk of a tree, one of  his legs was wrapped in a bandage from his foot to the middle of his tight. She wondered what had happened to him, an injury like that couldn’t been caused by just tripping on the floor. Newt was smiling to her, but there was something in his eyes, something buried inside of them. But whatever it was it was sad. She wanted to have more answers to understand, but she wouldn’t ask Newt; that sadness in his eyes was different from the other boys. She understood that all of them wanted to get out, but no one had that look in their eyes. 

“Have you eaten?” She asked finally after a moment of silent. 

Newt nodded his head “Yeah, Fry is very careful to that” he said kindly thinking of his friend. She wanted to ask something to make conversation, but she really didn’t know what. 

“I’m sorry” he said at some point “I’m afraid there isn’t so much to get to know each other” there again that sadness hitting his eyes, he was smiling without joy. 

“You know what I find strange?” she said getting closer to Newt. 

He looked at her in curiosity “What?” 

She bit her lips “The fact that I can remember a lot of things of the world like… Like I know this is planet Earth and that there are continents and countries. I even know what a pig is” she said pointing to the pig that had come up of the lift with her. 

She heard him chuckle, she turned to him with a little smile “It’s true though, like I know that you are British” 

He seemed to think about it “Yeah, you’re actually right” he said surprised “Guess I know something of myself after all” 

She smiled seeing him chuckle and set down on the ground next to him. 

“Where am I from to you?” She asked. 

 Newt looked at her with surprise. She really hoped she wasn’t bothering him but she didn’t want for him to be sad. 

He stood still for a moment before studying her with his eyes. 

“America, I guess” he said with a smile “Definitely not England” 

“Could I be Spanish?” She asked. 

He seemed to think about it “You’ve got the colors, but not accent” 

“French?” He smiled shaking his head “Italian?” She guessed again. 

He chuckled again “Sorry” 

“Damn” she exclaimed leaning back “I really wanted to be European” Newt laughed at her and she smiled looking at him laughing for the first time. She was glad he seemed not to be thinking at whatever made him sad before. 

Suddenly his laughter turn into a gasp and one of his hands gripped his bandaged knee. 

She got closer “Are you alright?”  

Newt nodded his head with closed eyes “Just.. Just my leg” the girl turned her attention to the leg in front of her. It was surely broken, it needed to stay as still as possible. Her eyes got caught by some tick branches on the floor not to distant from them. She got up to go and take some. She examined a couple of branches before turning to Newt, who was looking at her in curiosity, still feeling pain. 

“Can I try something?” She asked walking back next to him.  

“Alright” he almost muttered. 

Marie started to put the two branches she had chosen at each side of his leg, then she took some bandages. 

“Tell me if I hurt you” he just nodded his eyes fixed on her. She started to wrap the bandage that she had in hand around his leg, trying to make it tight so the two pieces of wood stood closer to his leg. She couldn’t quite explained it, but that felt so natural, it was like she knew exactly what do. It was a strange feeling. 

“When the boys get back we’ll fix it better” she said finishing wrapping the bandage. 

“How are you feeling it?” She asked turning to him that was looking at her with a surprised expression. 

“That’s… better” he smiled at her “Thank you” she returned the gesture. She was glad she had helped, it made her… Happy. She didn’t even know how she knew what to do, it felt right. It felt like her. She froze suddenly. 

“Marie..” She muttered. 

“What?” He asked kindly. The girl turned towards him with a bright smile. 

“I.. I think I remember” she couldn’t stop smiling and her eyes were filling with tears “I’m Marie” 

Newt looked her in the eyes before smiling brightly “Nice to meet you, Marie.” 

[goldenvicious]

Enter: Gooper, Greenbean, False Bug, Pupper, Bonehead, BoneGatherer and Striker + Vs: Avery (x2)

Once I left the Dojo, I spotted the Slowpoke running towards the Soothing Wetlands. I chased after it on my bike, along with the other students. As I was chasing it, I tripped over a Whooper. After we looked at each other for a second, we looked at each other for one second and I lightly a quick Net Ball at it, catching the little goober instantly. I named her Gooper.

After that, I got back up on my bike and chased all 3 Slowpokes. WHY ARE ALL THESE SLOWPOKES SO GOD DAMN FAST-

Good thing is that they're weak, so Child Safe cleans them up quickly. Once all three are caught and defeated, I go back to the Master Dojo with the uniform in hand. Honey and Mustard were talking to each other when they spotted and greeted me. Soon after, everyone else rushed in and were in shock that I caught all 3 Slowpoke. Avery asked if I got his uniform, and I just handed it back. Mustard announces that I have cleared the 1st Trial like it was nothing. Only Leon was able to catch all 3 on their own before. Everyone else was able to catch up, but not Defeat them. I outdid myself, so everyone else was able to get a second chance. After some were Eliminated, Honey brought out 2 pokemon: Bulbasaur and Squirtle. Apperantly, when they are Fully Evolved, they'll have the ability to Gigantamax. I am looking straight at Bulbasaur the it stepped in, so that's the one I choose. I name him Greenbean, I love him.

Honey and Mustard talk about Dynamaxing and Gigantamaxing, including how there's a secret recipe in the Master Dojo. Drinking it makes us Gigantic and Strong. Mustard calls it Max Soup. Speaking if it, the next trial shall be Mushroom Picking. We'll be picking a plant known as Max Mushrooms, which are the key to Gigantamaxing. We are tasked with finding 3 mushrooms each. Everyone ran off to gather shrooms. The Move Tutor in the Dojo also made himself known, letting us know that he can teach our Pokemon exclusive moves. Honey gave me 5 pieces of Armorite Ore to let me teach one pokemon a new move. I decided to teach Princess Triple Axel, a powerful Ice Type move. I leave the Dojo, but Mustard stops me. It dawned on him that I'm new to the Isle of Armor, so I probably have no Idea where to look for Max Mushrooms. I walked with him to find some Mushroom Hot Spots™️.

Usually, there's a lot in the Forest of Focus, but a swarm of Greedent ate them all. So there might be some in the Warm-Up Tunnel, which is at the other side of the forest. I stand at the edge of the forest, and move forward.

While wandering the forest, I find a Fomantis in the grass. I throw a Nest Ball and catch it with no struggle. I name her False Bug, since she's a Grass type posing as a Bug Type. Crossing the Forest of Focus, I make it to the Training Lowlands. In the Grass, I spot a Lillipup. I look at him...and I GRAB THE CHILD. HE IS MINE NOW! Pupper is in the Box!

I enter Warm-Up Tunnel and spot a Cubone. I toss a Dusk Ball and name her Bonehead once caught. Further into the cave I found a bundle of Max Shrooms. As I was about to pick them, a Voice screamed at me. It was Avery, claiming that he saw them first with his ✨psychic powers.✨I'm too tired to argue, so...sure, why not. Somehow, some-fucking-way, Avery managed to take this as a sign of me trying to say that I'm stronger. He demands to fight me, so here we go i guess.

You are challenged by Pokemon Trainer Avery!

His first Pokemon is Slowpoke, and I send out Child Safe- shadow ball. He says that Shadow Ball is now banned, so ok.

I switch to Dig Dug and he sends out Kadabra. Kadabra Outspeeds and uses Psybeam. I use X-Scissor. Kadabra dies.

Up next is a Woobat, so I send out Princess to test out the new Triple Axel move. It hits twice and KOs Woobat swiftly. Easiest victory today.

He gets frustrated and lets me keep my mushrooms. He runs away, off to look for more elegant looking mushrooms. After I pick my mushrooms, I get a call from Honey. She asks how my trial is going, and I tell her that it's been Easy Peasy. Honey's been checking in on everyone, but I'm the first to find Max Mushrooms. She tells me to be careful on my way back, but I decide to explore some more.

I walked into the Potbottom Desert and looked around. The 1st pokemon I spot is a Vullaby, which a Nest Ball makes quick work of. I named her BoneGatherer and sent her to the PC. Collected some Items, fought a couple pokemon, and found some Diglett.

Once I make it back, everyone was waiting for me. No one else but I found any Max Mushrooms, it seems, So I'm the only one who passed the trial. But before everyone leaves, we'll have a meal with the Max Shrooms that I got.

While cooking, Avery bursts through the roir with 3 Max Mushrooms in his arms. That makes him the 2nd person to pass the Second Trial. He asked for his mushrooms to be used in the soup, and they said sure. I'm fine with this. I get to keep my Max Mushrooms anyways, so I'm fine with it.

Once the soup is ready, we all sit at the big table and dig in. While eating the soup, Mustard explained the deal with the soup. While he was explaining, my whole body glowed with Dynamax Energy. Do I have the ability to Gigantamax now?

After we ate, Mustard asked to meet him in his room. When I got there, Hyde was working on a machine that looked like a Cramorant. He tried powering it up, but it couldn't turn on. I approached it, and he explained that he made it, but it lacks the Watts to work. I offered to provide the Watts to power it on, and he accepted.

After that, I talk to Mustard who was on the couch. Avery was there too. Avery and I shall now take in the Master Dojo's...

Final. Last. Ultimate. Third Trial!

The final challenge...IS TO FIGHT EACH OTHER! WOOOOOOO!

The battle will take place in the battle court behind the Master Dojo. Avery runs to the back and gets himself ready. Mustard explains that Avery has been doing the bare minimum before I got here due to his talent. Ever since I've gotten here, he's been trying and putting in all his effort. So now, he'll be going all out.

I heal up, prepare my pokemon, and go to the Battle Court.

There stands Avery, waiting fir me in the middle if the battlefield. He spotted me and walked straight for me. He says that with my defeat, he'll get the secret armor of the Master Dojo. He's coming with everything he has, and so do I. As we go to fight, the members of the dojo arrive to cheer us on. Honey and Mustard are watching intensely. We take our spots...and prepare to fight. Before we start, I feel some mist starting to set in.

You are challenged by Pokemon Trainer Avery!

He sends out a Ponyta and I send out Drifloon. However, he reveals that he has set up Psychic Terrain with his powers. I use Shadow Ball and take out Ponyta in one hit.

His next pokemon is his Kadabra, and I sent out Vee to deal with it. Kadabra outspeeds and hits with a Boosted Psybeam, but it does very little damage. Vee's Bite takes it out easily.

Next was Swoobat and I send out Dig Dug. He uses Air Cutter, which deals decent Damage, but Dig Dug's Rock Slide eliminates it.

His last Pokemon is Galarian Slowbro. I feel confident, so I keep Dig Dug in. This is his last Pokemon, so we both Dynamax. I use Max Quake, ready to deal the final blow. He dynamaxes Slowbro, but it goes down in a single hit.

The victor has been decided! I am the one to complete the 3rd trial! Avery calls himself pathetic for losing despite resorting to underhanded tactics. He gave it his all, and lost to a child(me). He wants to give up on his dream of being a gym leader. After admitting that he cheated, he told me to tell Mustard everything. Nah, don't feel like it. Mustard tells me that that's my strength: kindness towards my pokemon and rivals. Mustard forgave Avery for what he did, saying he's just a Hardworking student. But as punishment, Avery has to look after the Dojo's Pokemon for 6 months by himself. The punishment is so light so they can work on strengthening his heart.

Mustard gathered everyone around to congratulate me on my victory. To I, who has completed the 3 Dojo Trials, Mustard grants me the Secret Armor of the Master Dojo. It'll take a while to get it though, so everyone is sent to relax. Before I could go in, Avery stopped me. He gave me his League Card. He admits my strength, just a little.

After I walked in, Mustard was already ready. Wow, he's fast. Since I completed the three trials, I shall receive the Secret Armor!

Mustard brought out a pokeball and sent out a small, energetic bear Pokemon. He started jumping around, showing off his strength and agility. But when he spotted me, he hid behind Mustard's leg.

Mustard explained that this little guy is the Dojo's secret armor. Say hello to...Kubfu! He's small, but tough. He'll see me through any battle, he says. The only problem is: he's shy. He doesn't have much confidence in himself. So mustard thought that if he joins me on my adventure, that'll help it break out of his shell. So he asks me to take care of Kubfu.

Kubfu became your Pokemon!

I named him Striker and added him to my party, replacing BroBro. My first step is to build trust between Striker and I, so we should explore the Isle of Armor together since Striker doesn't leave the dojo often. Mustard also grants me permission to have a Pokemon following me outside of its pokeball. Once we're ready, Mustard will begin Striker's training.

Let's become friends, okay little guy?

[magnetothemagnificent]

When you get this, please reply five things that make you happy and send this to the last ten people in your notifications 💙 (you don't have to answer this if you don't want to)

Hmm, well..

1. My bird, Greenbean, who is currently talking to the birds outside

2. My cat, Kiki

3. My plant, Spiffy, who currently has 11 blossoms so far

4. Warm blankets and cocoa

5. Rainstorms

Thanks! :)

[tysonrunningfox]

Ripped: Part 27

I’m.......so fucking stoked to post this right now 

Ao3

“I need to stop and fill up,” Eretson mumbles ten silent minutes into the ride back to Fishlegs’ house. 

“How dare you?”  The silence shatters like physical bonds and Astrid sits up straight in the passenger seat, arms crossed to keep herself from hitting him. 

Or at least not hitting him yet.  She still might hit him, but not now, not until he explains where he left his brain. 

“I can make it,” he swallows, refusing to look at her, “the light comes on fifty miles before empty, anyway.” 

“Hiccup told me about the plea deal,” she tries to sound deadly but with her fists tucked away and her eyes tired, she’s not convinced that she gets the point across.  Especially when Eretson pulls up in front of Fishlegs’ house and looks at her with obvious pity, like she’s a kid and he’s about to have to explain that the fish he flushed down the toilet isn’t coming back. 

“We can talk tomorrow.”  Eretson gestures at the front door of Fishlegs’ house, porch light welcoming even now. 

“We can talk now,” she raises an eyebrow, “because I’m not telling Snotlout about this myself.” 

“Jorgenson will understand,” he shrinks a little under the statement though and she knows she’s struck a nerve.  Good.  If Eretson is stupid enough to put the idea of a plea deal in Hiccup’s evasive head, he deserves to look Snotlout in the face and admit it.  “He’s a cop.” 

“A cop who I haven’t seen put too many innocent people in jail on purpose,” she lets disgust leak into her tone and it’s enough that Eretson turns the car off with an efficient turn of the keys before climbing out of the car and striding ahead of her to the door. 

He doesn’t want to look at her right now, and that would make her want to get in his face if it wouldn’t put her expression in full display.  She doesn’t want to see her own face until she shoves useless despair back where it belongs, behind a wall of determination. 

“Detective Eretson?” Fishlegs answers Eretson’s knock and the other man holds up an almost surrendering hand. 

“Eret is fine.” 

“Is that like a nickname or something?”  Snotlout’s lying back on the couch, tossing a box of tissues up in the air and catching it.  He tries to lean up on his elbow, but it must hurt his stitches because he falls back again, the box hitting him in the face.  “Because it’s stupid, and I hate it.” 

“It’s not a nickname.” 

“No, it’s kind of just half your name.”  He sits up, using Heather’s shoulder for help even when she tries to shrug him off, obviously invested in the papers she has scattered across the floor. 

“How is that not a nickname?”  Heather snaps, smacking his hand away from her shoulder.  “Isn’t a nickname just a shortened version of someone’s name?” 

“Usually their first name, Heather, would you take me seriously if I went by ‘Jorg’?” 

“Probably,” she snorts, standing up and handing a piece of research to Astrid, highlighted and attached to a couple of sticky notes.  Something about the first canonical Grimborn murder and the despair fights against its cage.  “You know, since ‘Jorg’ is just Swedish for ‘George’.” 

“Why are you bringing up my name when this guy just announced that his name is Eret Eretson?” 

“You brought up your own name.” Fishlegs locks both of the new deadbolts he installed yesterday, his hand awkward on Hiccup’s borrowed drill, and if Astrid doesn’t hit someone soon, she’s going to scream. 

“Sixty-eight!” She settles for yelling at Snotlout, brandishing the research she doesn’t want to read like a weapon. 

“Why does that go on my tally?  Fishlegs was just the one talking—” His eyes widen and he holds his hands up apologetically, “wait no, I’m sorry Astrid.  So very sorry.” 

The apology is authentic enough to catch her off guard and she almost hits him anyway, for surprising her when she can’t tolerate anymore surprises, but it also gives her a moment to breathe and shrug and pretend she knows how to be reasonable. 

“It’s ok,” she bites her lip and gestures at Eretson, who she will not be calling by his first name because even though she lacks the bandwidth to agree with Snotlout right now, his name is stupid.  “Eretson has something to tell you.” 

“What?  Is your middle name ‘Son’?” 

“I talked to Hiccup today,” Eretson pulls the conversation back on topic and it’s anything but a relief.  Astrid wants to shout that she talked to him too, that he’s stupid and noble and not fine at all, but once again, that wouldn’t help anything.  “And introduced the idea of proposing a plea deal to implicate Grisly.” 

Snotlout frowns and looks between Astrid and Eretson before speaking slowly, “did he say no?” 

“He didn’t say anything,” Eretson shrugs, “I just told him to think about it.”

“Well, that was stupid,” Astrid laughs bitterly, “he doesn’t just think about anything, he obsesses over everything.” 

Snotlout and Fishlegs share a knowing look and Astrid raises an eyebrow. 

“What?” 

“Nothing,” Snotlout drops her question almost too gently, and she’d be suspicious if she had room for anything other than mounting panic at the thought of Hiccup following Eretson’s advice. 

“What was that look?” 

“There was no look,” Snotlout shrugs, looking back at Eretson. 

“It’s just that you calling Hiccup obsessive is a little…well, someone mentioned Viggo Grimborn outside your apartment a couple of times and now you’re involved in a copy cat murder investigation.”  Fishlegs says gently, if a little condescendingly, and Astrid purses her lips. 

 “A few times a night, maybe.” 

“And I don’t think you’ve been outside in days because you’re researching so frantically, so you calling someone obsessed—”

“Are you done?”  She cuts him off and he holds his hands up.  “Because I’m trying to talk about the horrifically stupid idea of Hiccup accepting some kind of plea deal.” 

“How exactly is it stupid?” Snotlout asks, too gentle, and she blinks at him. 

“Because he’s innocent?” Heather answers for her, “and admitting to something that he didn’t do isn’t the smart way to handle this?” 

“Plus, think about how it would look when this does go to trial,” Astrid points out and Heather nods in agreement. 

“A trial will take months,” Eretson says, too gently, and she hates when the truth doesn’t sound like a point.  “Months you have to keep looking, whether he takes the deal or not.” 

“Forensics should have enough for dismissal in months,” Astrid’s voice cracks and she forces it even, ignoring worried looks that she doesn’t want, “why do you think Viggo Grimborn wasn’t caught?  He wasn’t a criminal mastermind, it’s just that no one could fingerprint him or use a DNA sample.” 

“Forensics will be valuable at a trial,” Eretson’s measured voice makes her want to scream, like maybe if she’s loud enough she can force something to happen, “but it’s still about convincing a jury.” 

“I wish the news would stop covering it,” Heather mutters and Snotlout shoots her a look before talking. 

“What kind of plea would you even be asking for?” 

“I was thinking something along the lines of trading information in exchange for a reduced sentence,” Eretson fidgets with his sleeves, pushing them up and letting them fall back down, twitchy at the odds of getting yelled at again. 

“So, he trades the ‘insider information’ that Grisly is a sociopathic serial murderer and they ship him off to the nice prison upstate while they investigate,” Snotlout mulls that over for a second, “as much as I hate to say it, that’s not a bad idea.” 

“Really?”  Eretson flushes and clears his throat, standing up straight like his spine has been replaced by a curtain rod.  “I’ve been looking through Grisly’s case notes and I don’t like the idea of him having months to patch up the few holes I’ve found so far.” 

“Then what do you do a few months down the road when forensics prove that Hiccup had nothing to do with it?”  Astrid hates even entertaining the idea long enough to say it out loud and Heather seems to agree, nodding emphatically.  “But there’s a record of him confessing, what happens to that?” 

“Unless Grisly planted Hiccup’s hairs all over or something,” Snotlout says, a little desperate, worry leaking through in ways Astrid doesn’t understand.  “Either way though, it’s contempt of court or obstruction of justice or something and he can appeal—"

“So, more time in court, more chances for disaster,” she laughs, the thought of further disaster too heavy and impossible to take seriously, “all to tell a lie that’s going to be overturned by evidence anyway?” 

“All to get my couch back,” Fishlegs says quietly after a minute, appearing at Astrid’s side and putting an arm over her shoulders.  It’s shepherding as much as comforting and she digs in her heels against being herded. 

“You can stay with me,” Heather offers, and Astrid never thought she’d consider Heather the only other person with sense. 

“Your address is on file,” Eretson shakes his head, “it’s not safe while Grisly is still out there—”

“I don’t care,” Astrid shoves Fishlegs’ arm off, unsure how she’s the one in the corner when Hiccup is the one in the cell. 

“I do,” Snotlout is quiet, almost apologetic as he looks at her, “I’m getting pretty sick of hiding out while the guy trying to kill me gets to think he’s winning.” 

“So, Hiccup is supposed to confess to something he didn’t do so you can feel like you’re winning?”  Heather snips and Snotlout rolls his eyes. 

“Don’t talk to me about what’s best for Hiccup, you ditched him as soon as you disagreed about Vinyl Greenbean—”

“Then why are Astrid and I the only ones who don’t want him to lie during a criminal trial—”

Heather and Snotlout bicker like siblings, the kind of vicious back and forth perfected over years of disagreements, but something about their timing is off, like there’s a hole, a third voice supposed to flit back and forth alongside theirs.  Astrid can hear its absence louder than any memory of Hiccup’s voice and the thought makes her swallow hard, clinging to something looking more impossible every second. 

What if there’s no way to make this all go away?  What if she does have to find some way to move on with her life while trials drag out across weeks or months or years? 

She doesn’t want her life back, not while Hiccup isn’t in it.  Not while he doesn’t have his.  

“Enough,” Eretson cuts across the arguing with a tired, heavy order that everyone takes.  Snotlout turns to point at him, irritated, but he stays quiet as Eretson continues.  “None of this is going to be decided tonight, it’ll take time to talk through either way, so maybe it’s best to…”

“Hiccup’s already decided,” Astrid glares at Eretson one last time before sitting on the couch and diving into Heather’s nearest pile of research, hoping for some concrete fact large enough to drown out her fears. 

00000 

The memo to leave her alone must be delivered to appropriate parties, because she spends the next three days researching in relative privacy.  Ruffnut helps, which means she hangs around and talks about nothing in particular, but it’s better than Fishlegs’ quiet worry or Snotlout being a little too nice.  Ruffnut is at the archives when Eretson and Heather show up, looking official enough that it sends a thrill of cool fury down her spine.  

One of these days, Eretson is going to tell her that Hiccup accepted a plea deal and she’s going to hit him.  It’s inevitable and infuriating and it takes everything in her not to wish it would hurry up, even sarcastically. 

She’s not supposed to be the cynical one, there’s supposed to be someone else here to do that. 

“What do you want?” She doesn’t so much greet Eretson as warn him. 

Eretson glances suspiciously at Ruffnut before talking, “I was hoping—”

“We were hoping,” Heather tries to soften the tone of the situation and Astrid sighs, forcing her expression placid as she waves Eretson on with a falsely casual hand.

“There’s a piece of evidence I’d like your opinion on,” He produces a thumb drive and looks pointedly at Ruffnut again, waiting for her to take the hint. 

“Ooh, evidence?  I’m in.”  She intercepts the hint and runs with it, snatching the drive and plugging it into Astrid’s computer. 

“Actually, it’s sensitive,” Heather tries and fails to beat Ruffnut to the mouse and Astrid crosses her arms. 

“I trust her with sensitive.” 

“You do?” Ruffnut snorts, clicking play before Eretson can stop her. 

It’s a grainy, night-vision video of a man in a top hat and a long coat limping fluidly across the street in front of Astrid’s apartment building.  In the fifteen seconds shown, the figure never shows his face, instead leaning the hat closer to the camera as he raises a long arm upwards and covers the lens in what Astrid assumes is black spray paint. 

The time stamp is for the morning Hiccup got arrested, at 3:28am. 

“We know it’s not Hiccup,” Heather placates, and Astrid wipes her palms on her jeans. 

“Someone sure tried to make it look like him though,” she sighs, “play it again.” 

The second playthrough she tries to ignore the mocking in the swinging limp, the coat that hangs wrong, the arm that moves slowly through a calculated arc.  She succeeds enough to notice the hat, fluorescing just enough in the night-vision to make itself unique. 

“Look,” she pauses the video, pointing at a splatter of small smudges on the front of the hat forming almost a halo around a larger smudge on the top of it, “what’s that stain?” 

“I wondered that too,” Heather tries to take the mouse and Astrid bristles for a second before letting her, “but then I looked into the camera that Gobber put up and apparently it’s some paranormal detection model with a UV mode.” 

For the first time, something clicks just next to Grisly’s painted narrative, a single fallen leaf looped into an eddy instead of following the current all the way down. 

“Snotlout had Hiccup’s hat.” Astrid starts looking through her phone, hoping she texted someone or took some picture, something concrete to prove what she’s saying.  “The night he was over at my place and got shot.  But he didn’t have it at the hospital, so there’s no way that Hiccup had it the other morning.” 

“How do you know this is his hat?”  Eretson asks and Astrid points at the largest faintly glowing stain. 

“Toothpaste fluoresces,” she laughs, finally feeling like she might be getting somewhere after eons of dead ends, “that’s—I know I got toothpaste on his hat and the rest…if I had to guess, it’s blowback, from when Grisly shot Snotlout.  He must have taken the hat then.” 

“So, you’re saying the fact that you can prove it’s Hiccup’s hat…means it’s not him blacking out the camera?”  Heather looks at Eretson for corroboration. 

“The only proof we have against Grisly is Jorgenson’s testimony,” Eretson shakes his head, “and I don’t want to bring him in yet.  What about proof that Hiccup didn’t shoot Jorgenson and take his hat back?” 

“You saw him at the hospital,” Astrid tries, the memory of Hiccup strung out and exhausted tugging at heartstrings that must remain double-knotted if she has any chance of being useful through this.

“That won’t hold up in court,” Eretson shakes his head and Astrid wants everyone to leave so she can keep reading and figure out some magical way that this doesn’t go to court.

A way other than a plea deal that resigns Hiccup to being known as a murderer or at least an accomplice.  She just needs time and she can fix this.  She’s sure there must be a hole somewhere, no one is perfect, least of all Grisly. 

“Wait, before the hospital, he was with me,” Ruffnut supplies, crossing her arms. 

“What?”  Astrid tries to communicate her anger at not being told that little detail earlier with her eyes. 

“We were at the condos trying to sneak into Grisly’s office.”  She laughs, “we succeeded, and got caught and—oh wow, that’s not a funny story anymore knowing he was coming from shooting Snotlout.” 

“How was that ever a funny story?”  Astrid doesn’t expect an answer, but Ruffnut, as always, defies expectation. 

“It was hilarious, we were like pretending to be married—that’s how I grabbed his ass, remember?” 

Of course Astrid remembers, but she never thought the nonsense coming out of Ruff’s mouth and igniting useless little furls of jealousy would ever be pertinent to something this important.  She half thought Ruffnut was kidding to urge her into some kind of forward motion, and she didn’t really have a chance to get past half-thinking about the comment. 

“Does Grisly know you snuck into his office?”  Eretson asks, frustrated that it’s a question he needs to worry about but obviously relieved that he’s no longer obligated to report on its legality. 

“He caught me,” Ruffnut shrugs, “but Hiccup got out without Grisly seeing him.” 

“There goes that alibi,” Eretson mutters and Astrid tucks her hair behind her ear, trying not to feel defeated in her once sacred role. 

“I could—you know, I could go down to the station right now and—”

“I’m saving that,” Eretson says cryptically, a whisper in the mausoleum dedicated to her chances of helping. 

“Fine.”  She stalks off to the nearly completed Grimborn room and everyone is gone by the time she risks going back to her desk. 

When she gets back to Fishlegs’ house and knocks on the front door, Snotlout swears inside, obviously startled, and she’s irritated until he opens the two deadbolts and she sees the relief in his face. 

“Sorry.”  She doesn’t know what else to say and immediately wishes she’d said nothing. 

“It’s fine.”  He seems to stuff down what he wants to say, “you’re not Grisly.” 

“Guilty,” she tries to joke but it’s not funny and she wonders what Hiccup would say.  “About the plea deal—”

“What’s your team?” Snotlout interrupts, introspection wrongly-sized on his face.

“What?” 

“I’ve never asked what team you actually support,” he shrugs and she narrows her eyes, “is it the Chiefs? I bet it’s the Chiefs.  Vikings fan?—"

“Why?” 

“They uh…having a good season?”

“Goodnight,” she stalks past him to the couch and opens the notebook she left on the coffee table, re-reading Hiccup’s notes for the millionth time. 

00000

The next time Eretson and Heather show up at the archives, Astrid tries to ignore him, but curiosity gets the better of her and she acquiesces to his questions with a nod. 

“Have you found anything promising?”  He asks like he already knows the answer and she flips through Hiccup’s notes to the creased, crumpled picture of the ‘Al, I.’ safe message. 

“I did think of something earlier,” she ignores how Heather examines the picture with authentic interest, trying to remember the details of Hiccup’s interrupted tour, even though it hurts, terrified that the memory of his shocked, delighted face under spontaneous hat hair when she took control will fade.  “If the whole idea is that Hiccup is mimicking the Grimborn murders, why didn’t he leave a message on the wall?  He clearly had paint,” she references the video from earlier in the week, but even she can hear how feeble the idea is. 

He didn’t have time to leave a safe message because he got caught.  Copycat killers don’t purposefully leave more evidence.  She’s grasping and it’s obvious and desperate and she hates the edge of pity in Eretson’s expression as he sighs. 

Astrid’s jaded enough by this point to not ask if she can go with him when he leaves.  Something tells her the plea deal is more probability than possibility at this point. 

Heather stays though, asking to see the Berk Enquirer where Astrid found the ‘Al, I.’ safe message, her hands careful on the wrinkled pages that Hiccup clenched in his fist a world ago, when all of this seemed random.  Snotlout and Ruffnut show up not too much later and Ruffnut produces a flask from her purse, setting it purposefully in the middle of the table. 

“Antique documents,” Astrid hisses half-heartedly, pulling the pages away and brushing at a drip of nose-burning alcohol on the corner. 

“Tuffnut made this,” she drums her fingers on the table, “do we try it?  Or is that a really bad idea?  Or do we try it because it’s a really bad idea?” 

“If we’re trying bad ideas…” Astrid closes the notebook she was reading and the lack of distraction makes the day instantly heavier.  “I have a couple others I’d put first.” 

Hitting Eretson.  Draining her bank account to hire her own lawyer and sue Eretson.  Go down to the station and tell all the truths she’s been holding back.  Hit Grisly while she’s at it. 

“We should try it,” Snotlout rubs his hands together then pauses, “or we could try whatever bad idea Astrid wants to try first, I’m open.” 

“Stop,” she glares at him. 

“Stop what?” 

“Being so nice,” her shudder is involuntary, “it’s not going to make me feel any better about the plea deal.  And it’s creepy.” 

“It is creepy,” Heather agrees, “it’s like the threat of Astrid hitting you sixty plus times finally taught you humility or something.” 

“She can’t,” his wince is exaggerated, “I’d still die.  It wouldn’t be any better than handing me over to Grisly.” 

“Sounds like that might be easier on you,” Ruffnut laughs, eternally repositioning herself into the audience. 

Astrid opens her mouth to say something to Heather but a choked breath is all that comes out as her eyes widen.  Easier.  Grisly has a plan to make this easier. 

“That’s it,” she says quietly, morbid confidence welling behind it, “that’s his out.” 

“Hey, don’t actually turn me over to Grisly, just because you don’t like—”

“No,” she shoves the rest of Hiccup’s notes in her bag, “that’s Grisly’s plan.  That’s how none of this catches up to him, that’s how forensics doesn’t uncover anything.  That’s how he keeps this out of trial, where he’ll obviously lose.” 

“What are you talking about?”

“And the deal is going to rush it—”

“Astrid—" Ruffnut goes to stand up, but Heather beats her to it, following Astrid to the archives’ staircase. 

“I’ll be back at Fishlegs’ later,” Astrid doesn’t stop Heather from following her, taking a brief chance on the camaraderie born in the fire of all these recent disasters. 

“What are you doing?” Heather asks outside, pulling an umbrella out of her bag when a crack of thunder punctuates the conversation. 

 “I’m going to go see Hiccup.”  She feels better saying it out loud.  More solid.  More effective. 

“He doesn’t want you to,” Heather pauses like she’s holding something else back, but Astrid keeps walking, arms crossed against the rain. 

“Well I don’t want to sit around joking about him being in jail.”  She lets her realization sit for a second, pausing as long as she dares to think about it without throwing off the rest of her juggling rhythm.  Being equally annoyed at Snotlout’s story isn’t really a reason to trust Heather, but it’s all Astrid has, and she flicks her a careful, judgmental glance.  “I have to warn him.  Even if it’s another wild guess—”

“Slow down,” Heather frowns, moving close enough to share her umbrella, “warn him about what?” 

Astrid sighs, once again leaning into the uncomfortable truth that she can’t do this alone, “if Grisly is really planning on getting away with framing Hiccup with modern forensics and psychological assessments working against him, he can’t let this go to trial.  And at this point, the only way to stop it from going to trial is to make sure there’s no one to try.” 

It’s abstract and cluttered and everything she can do to not say ‘kill’. 

“How are you planning on getting into the jail?”  Heather asks after a silent second, handing Astrid the umbrella to dig through her bag. 

“I…hadn’t thought that far.”  She curses herself, trying to rein the useless panic back in. 

“Snotlout never took his badge back.”  Heather hands her an all too familiar shield shaped badge in a thin leather wallet and reaches back into her bag, “or his gun—”

“Why would I need a gun?” 

“If you’re right…” She trails off pragmatically and Astrid swallows hard, shaking her head. 

“If I’m wrong, I’m breaking enough laws impersonating a police officer.  How do you know the badge will work?” 

“It’s how I got in last time, there wasn’t even a guard on duty at the side door, I just scanned the badge and went up.  He was on the top floor then, in the smallest corner cell.”  She produces a keyring and holds it up by a non-descript silver key, “this opened the hallway door.” 

“You aren’t going to tell me to stay out of it?”  Astrid pauses, the rain on the umbrella punctuating her half thoughts.  Maybe she should ask for the gun after all. 

“I think it’s your business whether you stay out of it or not.” 

It’s either a setup or it’s not.  Heather is either with Grisly or not.  Astrid either showed her hand or she didn’t, and either way, her next move is the same.  Tell Hiccup. 

Heather goes back to the archives, or the station, or to Grisly’s office to tell him what’s going on.  Astrid doesn’t know and she doesn’t have room to care, not when the last week without seeing Hiccup might be coming to something like an end.  A point of punctuation, at least, a new anchor before the next disaster, whatever it will be. 

The side door of the county jail opens like the alley door of an office building when Astrid holds the badge against it, and if it weren’t for the Berk Police Department insignia on the wall inside, she could almost believe she was going to a doctor’s appointment or to see an accountant.  That illusion shatters though when she looks through the small bulletproof window on the second-floor landing and sees a line of men in orange jumpsuits walking down the hallway, shepherded by a guard in a gray uniform that sends a shiver up her spine. 

She’s never seen a prison guard, their uniforms could be gray for all she knows, but they look too much like NWF for comfort. 

The badge works again at the sensor next to the door on the top floor and she slips through, shutting it quietly behind her and not giving herself time to pause or think, because if she did, she might realize what a horrible idea this is.  The umbrella in her hand drips a trail of raindrops on the floor as she walks purposefully, trying to project that she knows what she’s doing and she’s supposed to be here as she makes her way to the last door on the left, hoping for the first scrap of luck that she’s had since she found Elizabeth Smith’s apartment. 

The key Heather gave her slides easily into the lock, turning with an anticlimactic click, and she slips inside before she can think better of it. 

“Astrid?”  Hiccup’s voice splits the silence with a stab of shaky confusion, a wall of bars between them dividing his haggard face into three parallel snapshots of shock. 

“Hi.”  She looks him up and down, making sure he’s real and whole, struggling to hold onto the urgency that propelled her up here on a whim. 

“How—”

“Snotlout’s badge,” she shows him before shoving it into her pocket to free up a hand that she rests tentatively on the crossbeam of the cold bars.  He hesitates before setting bony, clammy fingers on hers, jaw flexing under the extra week of stubble too obviously, like he’s lost weight he couldn’t afford to lose. 

He looks worse than he did through plexiglass and her heart aches. 

“Heather…” His expression is resolute, but his eyes are soft, “you shouldn’t be here.” 

“Neither should you,” she snaps a little too loud, “and I’m trying to fix it, I’m trying to find something wrong in Grisly’s setup, but I don’t see how to make it fall apart before it goes to trial.  Or worse, before you force it into an early plea deal.” 

“Trial,” Hiccup’s lips twist into a nauseous smirk and her hand itches to wipe it off.  “Grisly seems to think this won’t make it that far.” 

“He said that?”  Astrid’s blood runs cold and fast, like her veins are an Alaskan rafting course, and Hiccup’s fingers curl absently around her knuckles, thumb brushing hers as he frowns. “And the plea deal would make it happen so much faster, but—did he really say that he wasn’t going to let it go to trial?”

“Something similar,” he shrugs a scrawny shoulder and his frown deepens, “you really shouldn’t be here.” 

“The only way that Grisly could avoid a trial would be if there’s no one to try.  If the murders stop and the evidence lines up, why would anyone dig deeper?  Especially if he got rid of you, that would be easiest for him.”  She needs to say ‘kill’, she knows she does, she needs to drag Hiccup along with her on a tour of their macabre reality, but the word sticks in her throat like its determined to choke her.  “It’s the only thing that makes sense, it’s the only way any of this fits—”

“I love you.”  Hiccup doesn’t stutter or choke or quibble.  He looks at her, ghost of a smile haunting the corner of his mouth as his hand tightens on hers.  “You know, just in case you’re right again and I don’t get another chance.”

Her heart skips a beat then makes up for it, and at first, she thinks she imagines the clapping. 

It almost sounds like the pounding in her head, a little uneven, emphasis drifting slightly off beat.  It could be an echo, a residual from the way her heart is pounding, fear and confusion rattling around her chest. 

It could be a symptom of her brain shutting down, until the laugh. 

There’s nothing humorous in the sound, nothing alive.  It’s half awkward chuckle after dropping a stage prop and half delighted to stumble upon adequate improv partners. 

It’s Grisly in the doorway with a knife. 

Hiccup’s top-hat is crooked on his head, as out of place as his unpracticed smile, but twice as insulting.  He claps again, impersonating some concept of glee, and Astrid’s feet feel glued to the floor. 

“You love her?”  He laughs, the sound rich like blood, more alive than she’s ever heard him, “I had my suspicions, but I never dreamed I’d see them confirmed.” 

“What are you doing here?”  Hiccup’s voice is dull and quaking with some deep-set vulnerability that makes Astrid want to protect him. 

“Your dutiful lawyer is downstairs negotiating a plea bargain,” Grisly says like he’s delivering bad news, looking down at the knife in his hand with an almost fond smile, “he seems to think that horrible judge might go easier on you if you talk.  And maybe it’s true, some people must be a fan of your talking for you to have made it this far.”  When he looks back up, his smile is almost peaceful, like he’s nearly at the end of a very long, arduous road.  “I’m not one of them.” 

“I thought you enjoyed our conversations,” Hiccup angles himself like there’s some impossible way he could shield Astrid even when she’s on the same side of the bars as the madman with a knife, and his eyes scream ‘run’ in a language Astrid doesn’t speak.  

“Astrid,” Grisly doesn’t ignore Hiccup’s struggle to protect her as much as he passively enjoys it, like background music amplifying the emotion in a movie scene.  “This is long overdue, I was hoping to save you the inconvenience of coming down here by making a house call—”

“Leave her alone!” Hiccup yells, desperate, the walls swallowing most of the volume even as it leaves Astrid’s ears ringing. 

There are cameras in the hallway, they surely heard this.  They’re surely hearing all of this. 

Why didn’t Grisly shut the door?  If he shut the door, his audience would shrink dramatically, at least until someone reviewed the tapes later. 

It takes her a second to place the delight in his eyes and then it hits her that he didn’t expect to see her here. 

“This is better than I could have imagined though,” Grisly laughs the low, polite laugh of someone making an inappropriate joke behind their boss’s back, “I thought Hiccup would get out on bail and I’d catch you two together with that idiot Jorgenson and clean up all my loose ends at once, getting a judge fired in the process.”  He sighs, wistful for the plot twist he predicted that didn’t quite work out, “but this…to find Astrid here right when I came to dispose of you, to hear you admit your feelings not knowing you were about to watch her die…” 

Die.  The word seems so passive that Astrid can’t imagine it having anything to do with her.  Especially with the way Grisly is looking at her like an object, a prop that couldn’t have any life to give to anything other than his dastardly scheme. 

And Hiccup is quiet, quiet like he never is, quiet like he’s already given up. 

Something her Uncle Finn always used to say flashes through her head, his too serious words for coaching a children’s baseball team taking on new meaning. 

Stunned silence is an enemy’s greatest weapon. 

When she flips her grip on the umbrella in her hands and swings it hard, it’s more dangerous than Grisly’s knife because he doesn’t expect it.  Because he expected her to stand there and quiver or beg or bargain instead of follow the righteous bolt of anger telling her to take this into her own hands. 

The center pole of the umbrella hits across the bridge of his nose with a crunch and a clatter as he drops his knife.  He moves faster than she thinks he will, batting the umbrella away from his face and fumbling for the blade. 

That puts his face at the perfect height to knee him in his already bleeding nose as she tries to straighten out the umbrella to hit him again.  The first hit broke it, apparently, and she settles for thrusting the handle against his chest as soon as he tries to stand, the blow knocking him off balance and sending him stumbling back through the still open door. 

His back hits the opposite wall and his hat falls off, revealing rumpled white hair that makes the blood gushing from his nose look more vital, like he’s losing something he can’t live without.  He tries to stand up and she moves to hit him again, an involuntary noise of disgust leaking out when he flinches away, looking for the exit he hasn’t given anyone else. 

The door at the end of the hallway flies open and Eretson appears, gun in hand, flanked by two officers uniformed in standard Berk PD blue. 

Astrid drops the umbrella and holds up shaking hands, taking a step back from Grisly’s defeated form and pointing at a camera on the ceiling. 

“He…he left the door open, I bet—I bet this is all on film, he wasn’t expecting, well…me.”  She looks at the broken umbrella and the stain on the knee of her jeans before glancing back at Grisly’s already swollen features, sharp edges gone soft with loss of sick control.  “He confessed.” 

“And he trash-talked a judge,” Hiccup adds from behind her, voice meek and hollow, “which I don’t think helps.” 

“Usually doesn’t help,” Astrid agrees, heart fluttering too fast as she watches a cop slide handcuffs around Grisly’s wrists.  He slumps under the weight of them, nose dripping on the floor as he trudges down the hall, a leashed lion on the way back to his cage. 

Eretson doesn’t ask how she got in or how she’s doing or where the knife near the gate of Hiccup’s cell came from.  He sighs, either too professional to show his relief or too tired to feel it, before instructing the other officer with him to take them to an interrogation room while he goes to get a copy of the security footage before anyone else can get to it. 

When he comes back and announces that a second NWF agent is in custody for trying to erase the footage seconds after Eretson’s download was complete, Astrid feels like she can breathe for the first time since she concerned herself with why Elizabeth Smith stopped. 

[oc-magazine1]

OC Interview with Birkley Razorleaf! 🤩

Created by Greenbeans

Tell us about yourself:

Hi! My name’s Birkley Razorleaf! My hobbies include botany, wrestling, and a bit of chemistry on the side. There isn’t really much about me!

Tell us about your love life:

Oh, I hardly have one. I had a crush on one girl back in middle school but besides that not much.

Where would you take a date?

Oh, if I ever did get to take someone on a date, I would find a clearing in a forest a while ago that seems like it’s capturing the stars! It’s beautiful.

What is your idea of paradise?

Oh, definitely a place with all of my friends. They can make any place fun, no matter where it is!

What do you love about yourself?

Well, I quite fancy my abilities, namely making various things come out of my hands. It comes in handy every once in a while.

What are your bad habits?

Oh, well probably panicking and resorting to ramming. Whenever somethings are down to the line I end up ramming into the solution. If you’re wondering about how often it succeeds… not often but when it does it makes for a funny story!

Do you have a phrase you say a lot?

Well, my friend, Owen, always gets really injured. He can take it since he’s super strong, but the thing is he needs time to rest. Just because of him, the phrase “Time heals all wounds.” has probably become my most said phrase.

If you had $1 million, what would you do with the cash?

Well, I don’t know for sure, but I would probably buy a bunch of plant stuff. It would be an impulse buy in that case.

Do you have any enemies?

Well, there’re these guys, who keep attacking the school I go to. There’s Wilson… I think one’s named Alvin, then Istran and Tiegan, they always come as a package deal, and there was one more. I can’t remember his name at the moment. There’s also one of my classmates named Nephrite who always gets annoyed about everything. He always talks himself up and stuff, but he’s extremely susceptible to reverse psychology, so he’s kind of easy to deal with.

If you could appear in any popular movie or book, which one would you choose and why?

I don’t read a TON, but I have read some, so probably out of the ones I’ve read… maybe the Marvel Universe. Their abilities are so fascinating, and I’d want to compare them to mine!

What’s your relationship with your creator?

My creator? Oh, we’re best buddies! Not really much else to say, we don’t interact much, but he is a nice guy as far as I can tell!

Do you have any advice for other character creators?

Nope. My creator has no idea how he got here. He just started writing and now he suddenly has a collection of shapes forming words forming characters forming a story.

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

Have a friend that has amazing OCs? Tag them below! If you want to get your OC interviewed, fill out this form: https://forms.gle/PQL4NoKo32xKcZns6

[popping-greenbean]

i love doing household chores on my own i love clean living spaces its both giving and receiving acts of service to and from myself i love it

[spiral-of-berries]

You can run away with me anytime you want

A03: Here!

Story Rating: T

Pairing: Amedot, mentioned jaspearl

Summary: A new neighbor moves in, Amethyst falls over a fence, stars are gazed at, makeouts are had, and everything turns out alright. Overall, it's a pretty good summer.

Tags: Human AU

When the new neighbors moved in, Amethyst couldn’t help but notice her.

Well, she’d noticed the dog first. Cute lil’ orange pup, tail wagging and tongue out. That dog had brought a grin to her face the moment she saw it rounding the corner with a zucchini, or maybe a cucumber in its mouth, running up to her and depositing it at Amethyst's feet like some grand prize. Amethyst had laughed out loud, picking up the (definitely) zucchini and giving the pup a hearty pat on the head.

Then she’d charged around the corner, huffing as she ran.

“Pumpkin!” The girl yelled, skidding to a stop on bare feet. “Don’t just run off like that, silly dog--” She looked up, and she and Amethyst locked eyes. “Oh! Hi, I’m sorry, I’m Peridot, I think we’re neighbors…?” Oh no. Oh no.

She was so cute!

Peridot kneeled down to gather up the dog, which was good because Amethyst needed some time to restart her brain. Peridot was wearing these adorable watermelon-patterned shorts, and christ her thighs--! Amethyst kept her eyes on Peridot’s face, which was at least somewhat more acceptable to stare at. The round glasses were a cute look on her.

“Yeah, yeah-- you guys just moved in, right? I saw the trucks last week. I think I met your… sister…?” Amethyst trailed off, not sure who the growly girl with the eyepatch had actually been.

Peridot made a face and stuck out her tongue.

“I apologize for whatever Sarah said or did. It’s nice to meet you, uhm--”

“Amethyst! Sorry I didn’t introduce myself earlier.”

Peridot smiled, a little crookedly.

“Well, it’ nice to meet you. I’ll see you around! You can keep the zucchini. You should probably wash it, though.” Peridot added, standing up. Pumpkin licked her hand, and Peridot smiled fondly down at the dog.

“Yeah,” Amethyst said, “See you around.”

“Jaaaaasppeeeeerr,” Amethyst whined, “the new neighbor is hot!”

“Didn’t know you liked eyepatches.” Jasper deadpanned, her eyes on her book. Amethyst hadn’t even known that people actually read those stupid cold war spy books until she’d moved in with her estranged sister.

“No,” Amethyst said, rolling her eyes, “she has a hot sister! And a cute dog!”

“Is that where that spaniel lives? Nice dog. Gave me a zucchini.”

“Me too, actually. Anyways, this is a crisis! ” Amethyst declared gravely.

“How so?” Jasper asked, flipping a page in her book.

“‘Cause I wanna bone her! And I’m gonna see her, like, every day ‘til school starts again! How is this not a crisis!”

“You are nineteen years old. I’m sure you can muster up the will to ask her on a date.” Jasper said plainly.

Amethyst plopped down on the couch.

“Jasper, I feel like you aren’t taking my girl emergency seriously.”

“What gives you that impression.” Jasper said, raising an eyebrow. Amethyst gently kicked her. Jasper rolled her eyes.

“Just go talk to her tomorrow. I can usually hear that dog out there, she’s probably there with ‘em.”

“So, what, I should go creep on her over the fence?” Amethyst asked.

“Make conversation with her about her weird vegetable bearing dog or something and let me read my book in peace.”

Amethyst made a hmmph noise, but found herself smiling anyways.

“Maybe I will. You want anything from the fridge?” She called as she got up. It was too damn hot, and needed a soda. Maybe a popsicle.

Jasper shook her head, and Amethyst left her sister in peace.

A couple days later, Amethyst was considering the best way to blow up an old toilet she had found without getting the cops called  or bringing down Jasper’s wrath upon her. Firecrackers obviously wouldn’t be strong enough, but she might actually burn down her house if she tried to stuff the thing full of actual fireworks. Maybe Bismuth would help her haul it to a field later?

Oh, hey, there was that dog again, barking up a storm. Jasper’s advice floated through her head, and, throwing caution to the wind, Amethyst hauled herself up onto one of the lower horizontal beams of the fence, so that she was hanging halfway over the top. Pumpkin ran to greet her, and Amethyst dangled one arm down for the dog to sniff.

Then she looked up and. Peridot was gardening, kneeled down in the dirt and tugging up small plants with a spade.

In a bikini.

Fuck.

She glanced up as Pumpkin stopped barking, and Amethyst felt her whole face heat up.

“Hey,” She said, as if she wasn’t staring at her over a fence. “I heard your dog.”

Peridot laughed and stood up, brushing dirt off of her knees. Amethyst made a valiant effort at not starting. Peridot walked over and crouched to pet Pumpkin, who sat down and panted happily.  

“Yeah, he hates it when I weed the garden. I think he’s scared of the hand spade. Why is that?” She directed the last bit at the dog as she scratched behind his ears.

“Watcha growin’?” Amethyst asked, considering whether leaning down to pat the dog more would make her overbalance.

“Y’know, corn, tomatoes, greenbeans.” Peridot shrugged. Amethyst glanced back at the garden patch.

“And zucchini?” She asked. Peridot’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah, there’s some zucchini growing. I didn’t plant it, I think some must have just gotten left over from the last owners. It’s sort of a pain, but no use wasting a plant, I always say!” She gave a nasal little laugh that shouldn’t have made Amethyst blush.

“Is it just you that takes care of the garden?” Amethyst asked, trying to not make a total ass of herself.

“Yeah, my sister doesn't like gardening. She’ll probably tear it up once I go back to school.”

Amethyst’s ears perked up at that.

“Oh, where do you go?”

“I go to Empire U, for agricultural studies. Why, do you go to school around here?” Peridot asked, tilting her head a bit.

“I go to Beach City College,” she replied, trying and failing to shrug casually while hanging over the side of a fence. Pumpkin yipped, and Amethyst leaned down a bit more to pet him--

And promptly flipped herself over the fence, tumbling down onto her back and narrowly avoiding squishing both Pumpkin and Peridot.

“Oh--! Shit, are you okay!?” Peridot yelled from where she was now sitting, having stumbled back in the chaos. She scooted over to kneel at Amethyst’s side.

Amethyst groaned and sat up. She looked at Peridot, then to the fascinatingly oblivious pumpkin, then back at Peridot.

She started to giggle, and Peridot laughed with her.

They had chatted for a long while after that.

Peridot and her sister were from a farm town in Illinois, but Peridot’s sister had just gotten a job in Beach City, and it was closer to Peridot’s school anyways. Pumpkin was indeed a spaniel, a gift from Peridot’s ex.

Amethyst had boggled at that-- who got their girlfriend a dog when they didn’t even live together? Peridot had gotten very quiet at that, so Amethyst had changed the subject.  

Eventually, the sun started to dip and Peridot’s sister poked her head out the door to tell them to quiet down. Amethyst had climbed back over the fence, promising to see Peridot another day.

That brought them to today, standing in a field. Jasper had vehemently vetoed the toilet, so Amethyst decided on an old-furniture bonfire instead. Bismuth had indeed given a lift and an old cabinet, which Amethyst had demolished with an axe hours beforehand.

“Are you sure this is safe?” Peridot asked, clad in a tank top and shorts, standing a healthy distance away from the pile of splintered wood.

“I do this all the time! Old furniture goes up really well. I remember when we chopped up an old playset, that thing went up like dry newspaper!” Amethyst exclaimed as she piled rocks in a ring along the intended fire pit. “Bis said there wasn’t any varnish or anything on it, so we probably won’t get cancer.”

“What do you mean, probably? ”

Amethyst grinned and exaggeratedly rolled her eyes.

“Aw, c’mon. A little cancer never hurt anybody! You’re out in the sun all day anyways, you’re pretty much bound to get it.”

Peridot pouted and crossed her arms.

“It’s too hot to wear clothes while I garden. I’m just being sensible.”

Amethyst bit back a comment about being too hot -- she wasn’t sure if they were, y’know. There yet. But hey, now they were here! Alone, with a (semi) romantic fire. Amethyst had even brought marshmallows. She shoved the last rock into place and stood up, brushing dirt and grit off of her hands. The sun was just starting to set, now. She trotted to the car to fetch the lighter, the kindling, and of course the snacks.

“Do you burn a lot of stuff out here?” Peridot called.

“Nah, usually if I have a bonfire I’ll go to the beach. It’s supposed to be super crowded there tonight though, so I figured we could just use this field.” Really, Bismuth had gently suggested that they use the field in a sort of, don’t you get me in trouble for contributing to your pyromania by setting the beach on fire way. Amethyst was happy to comply.

“Is the beach busy a lot? I haven’t been.”

“It depends on the day and where on the beach. I know some pretty good spots.” Amethyst carefully didn’t mention how many of those spots were technically private property. It wasn’t like Rose and Greg cared anyways, unless they were doing something stupid, like burning massive amounts of shit.

“Can you take me sometime?” Peridot asked, and Amethyst hesitated in stuffing the kindling beneath the woodpile.

“That, uh, sort of sounds like a date, Per.” She laughed nervously, busying herself with the soon-to-be fire.

Peridot was quiet for a long moment. Shit. She’d been pretty sure Peridot was gay. In fact, she was already considering filing an official complaint, because she was pretty sure that it was illegal to wear a flannel like a crop top if you were straight, and Peridot had definitely done that (Amethyst hadn’t ogled her, no siree).

“I, uhm, thought this was a date?” Peridot squeaked, and Amethyst’s heart stopped for at least the third time that evening.

“Oh. Uh.” Amethyst started dumbly at her hands, still holding old newspapers. “Well, uhm, it is now? Is that…?”

“Is that a thing you’d be interested in?” Peridot ventured, “Like. Dating…?”

Holy shit yes , Amethyst’s mind screamed. Somehow, she managed to barely keep her composure.

“Yeah, man. Dating. That sounds pretty fantastic actually.” She said, like someone who didn’t have fireworks going off inside her brain. She crammed another handful of paper into the ple, and clicked the trigger of the fireplace lighter experimentally.

She’d been right, the pile of furniture went up beautifully. She scooted back a few feet, and Peridot sat down beside her.

“That went better than I thought it would,” said Peridot. Amethyst wondered what she was referring to.

As promised, the second date was on the beach. That had played and splashed in the water all day, but as the sun started to set they found themselves sitting on a dock, feet dangling in the water and hands inches away from each other’s.

“I should have brought Pumpkin,” Peridot mused, and Amethyst laughed at the mental image.

“He’d be tracking sand around your house for days, man! All that fur.”

“I’d wash him off with the hose! He likes playing with the hose.”

“I can’t even get all the sand out of my fur, and I have thumbs to operate a shower with. He’d give your sister an aneurysm.” She shook her head wildly for emphasis, and Peridot laughed and shielded herself as salt and sand sprayed from Amethyst’s thick bleached hair.

“Alright, alright, point taken, stop spraying me! Jerk,” She said, with no true malice.

Amethyst pouted anyways.

“I’m just trying to save your dog from a sandy fate!” She declared, voice full of mock offense, “And your house. It’s awful, trying to get all the sand out of the shower afterwards.”

“That’s why I keep my hair short. Less sand vectors.”

Amethyst giggled, and Peridot blushed and grinned.

“Vectors, huh? You’re such a stem major.” Amethyst laughed, gently bumping her with her shoulder. Peridot looked down at her lap. Amethyst looked at the profile of Peridot’s face, drinking in the upturn of her nose and the way her eyelashes looked in the sunset.

“Are you worried about when we go back to school?” Peridot asked, and Amethyst tilted her head.

“Are you?” Amethyst asked in return, already knowing the answer.

“I don’t know, maybe?” Peridot said, brushing at some sand that was stuck to her thigh. “I mean, I know we aren’t super serious yet or anything, but…”

Amethyst kept her eyes on Peridot, silently encouraging her to go on.

“I don’t know, I mean, you’re really cool and I haven’t dated-- wanted to date someone else in, well, a while, and I just, I just don’t want it to end yet?” Peridot hugged her legs to her chest, resting her chin on her knees.

“I mean,” Amethyst began, faltering a bit, “I think you’re really cool too? And I think you’re cute and I want to get to know you, I mean, it’s not even July . We have time to think about this. I dunno, I usually play this sort of stuff by ear, but maybe, maybe we just see where this goes? Figure out August stuff in August, y’know? Is that… Okay?”

Peridot let her feet dangle over the side of the dock again, but she was still sort of… hunched? Small looking.

Amethyst called out, “Hey.”

Peridot looked over, and Amethyst leaned forward to kiss her.

It was really nice.

The fourth of July was, predictably, also spent on the beach. This time, Amethyst was actually allowed to be on the little stretch of beach that Rose and Greg actually owned, and Peridot had only sort of side eyed her when Greg let them through the gate Amethyst had bypassed last time.

Peridot had been almost uncharacteristically shy around all the others, sticking close to Amethyst's side as they wandered from the volleyball net to the grill to the fire pit. Amethyst just held her hand and attempted to be loud enough for the both of them (and handily succeeded).

Peridot warmed up quickly, though-- Pearl mentioned transport phenomena or some other nebulous concept and Peridot jumped on it like a drowning man on a liferaft, sparking up conversation about molecular transport and scaling and Amethyst wandered off somewhere in the middle for another hotdog, but Peridot and Pearl both seemed to be having fun. Well. ‘Fun.’

Garnet gave her a inscrutable thumbs up, and Amethyst piled more mustard and relish onto her hot dog.

And then it was ten minutes ‘til the fireworks went off, and there was some kind of goddamned conspiracy going on here, because somehow Peridot and Amethyst were the only two on the cliff by the lighthouse, waiting for the show. Usually the joint was packed (well, if you could call the Cool Kids and that anime kid a full crowd). Bismuth and Rose had both suggested that they head up and wait for the rest of the group to catch up, Amethyst was calling shenanigans.

And yet. Somehow the universe had afforded them privacy this Independence day, so Amethyst was ready to declare this the good sort of shenanigans, and that she had a good group of friends, even if their ages did widely differ. Maybe they just wanted her to mack on someone her own age, who knows.

What mattered right now was that Peridot was sort of leaning her head on Amethyst’s shoulder, and she smelled like sunscreen and bonfire smoke, and Amethyst doubted she smelled much better.

Amethyst’s hand found Peridot’s, and they tangled loosely together.

“You sure can’t see many stars around here,” Peridot murmured.

“”S what the fireworks are for,” Amethyst replied, “were there a lot of stars where you lived?”

“No,” Peridot said, “But you could drive a couple hours to where the stars were. It was amazing-- there were so many, you couldn’t see anywhere to fit even one more in.” She sighed longingly.

“I’d love to show it to you,” Peridot whispered, “You’ve shown me so many of, of your places, and it’s only been a month. I want to show the stuff that’s special to me.”

Amethyst squeezed her hand, unsure how to reply. Peridot scooted impossibly closer, nudging her head into the crook of Amethyst’s neck.

“I really, really like you,” Peridot whispered, and Amethyst kissed her temple.

“I really, really like you too.”

Peridot tilted her head up and kissed Amethyst’s nose, and Amethyst grinned widely.

She’d’ve probably appreciated the fireworks more if Peridot’s tongue hadn’t been in her mouth, but hey, who was she to complain?

The summer flew by after that-- spent in days splashing at the beach, hanging out in each others back yards, sometimes to help Amethyst wreck some shit, sometimes to play with Pumpkin sometimes to help Peridot garden.

There were trips to Funland and the boardwalk, nights spent by bonfires, and even a day where Peridot sheepishly turned up at Amethyst’s door with an armful of zucchini. They’d made enough zucchini bread to feed an army, and Amethyst had laughed when Pumpkin turned up at the door with yet another of the vegetables, just like the day they met.

But, all good things had to end, summer especially. Peridot and Amethyst sat on Amethyst’s back porch, eating popsicles and looking up into the sunset sky.

Peridot rested her head on Amethyst’s shoulder, and Amethyst slurped her popsicle directly in Peridot’s ear. Peridot half-heartedly elbowed her in the ribcage. Amethyst gave Peridot a sticky, grape flavored kiss.

“I did the math,” Peridot said. “It’s a five hour trip each way.”

“Fuck that.” Amethyst snorted. “That sucks, man.”

Peridot gave her popsicle a mournful lick, turning so that she didn’t dribble on Amethyst.

“We’ve still got discord! And, y’know, our phones.” Amethyst said, trying to offer some sort of comfort.

“I know,” Peridot mumbled, “I just, I get worried about long distance stuff, what if you find someone else--”

“Peri. You have met, like, all of my friends, and no one's gonna transfer to Beach City of all places. Who am I gonna hook up with? They’re all, like thirty-five and I’m pretty sure Jasper is banging Pearl already anyways. Besides you’re-- you’re unforgettable, man! Irreplaceable. Irrperiplacebale? No, wait--”

Peridot giggled, and Amethyst grinned.

“Dork,” Peridot said around a mouthful of blue raspberry.

“Your dork.” Amethyst said, pleased with herself.

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, bathed in orange-gold.

“You really think Pearl’s fucking Jasper?” Peridot asked quizzically, and Amethyst gave an exaggerated shudder.

“I try not to think about it, dude.” At least Jasper seemed happier nowadays. It wasn't her business, she supposed.

Amethyst slid the last of her popsicle off of its stick and into her mouth, sucking on the ice.

“You packed yet?” She asked, and Peridot nodded.

“Sarah can’t wait to get me out of the house, I think. I still have to pack my clothes, but all my room stuff is packed.”  

“Sarah is gonna lead a reign of terror over this neighborhood, isn’t she?”

“You’ll have to strike her down.” Peridot sighed dramatically.

Amethyst snorted, and Peridot finished off her popsicle, twiddling absentmindedly with the stick.

“You hear from your roommate yet?”

“Some psych major,” Peridot said, “She seems nice. Said she’s gonna bring a lot of books. Wanna hear my popsicle joke?”

“Hell yeah, I do.”

“What’s the best side of a house to put the porch on?”

“Fuck. The sunny side?”

Peridot giggled.

“No, the outside!”

“Pffft, is that really what it says?” Amethyst asked, playfully grabbing for the stick.

“Yeah! It’s one of the better ones I’ve heard, actually.”

“That’s why I don’t believe you.” Amethyst grabbed for the stick gain, then switched tracks and prodded at Peridot’s sides. The effect was immediate, Peridot let out a yelp of a laugh and curled up defensively.

Amethyst laughed too, kissing her and tasting blue raspberry.

Summer was ending, but they were gonna be fine.

[readbookywooks]

CHAPTER 1 He began his new life standing up, surrounded by cold darkness and stale, dusty air. Metal ground against metal; a lurching shudder shook the floor beneath him. He fell down at the sudden movement and shuffled backward on his hands and feet, drops of sweat beading on his forehead despite the cool air. His back struck a hard metal wall; he slid along it until he hit the corner of the room. Sinking to the floor, he pulled his legs up tight against his body, hoping his eyes would soon adjust to the darkness. With another jolt, the room jerked upward like an old lift in a mine shaft. Harsh sounds of chains and pulleys, like the workings of an ancient steel factory, echoed through the room, bouncing off the walls with a hollow, tinny whine. The lightless elevator swayed back and forth as it ascended, turning the boy’s stomach sour with nausea; a smell like burnt oil invaded his senses, making him feel worse. He wanted to cry, but no tears came; he could only sit there, alone, waiting. My name is Thomas, he thought. That … that was the only thing he could remember about his life. He didn’t understand how this could be possible. His mind functioned without flaw, trying to calculate his surroundings and predicament. Knowledge flooded his thoughts, facts and images, memories and details of the world and how it works. He pictured snow on trees, running down a leaf-strewn road, eating a hamburger, the moon casting a pale glow on a grassy meadow, swimming in a lake, a busy city square with hundreds of people bustling about their business. And yet he didn’t know where he came from, or how he’d gotten inside the dark lift, or who his parents were. He didn’t even know his last name. Images of people flashed across his mind, but there was no recognition, their faces replaced with haunted smears of color. He couldn’t think of one person he knew, or recall a single conversation. The room continued its ascent, swaying; Thomas grew immune to the ceaseless rattling of the chains that pulled him upward. A long time passed. Minutes stretched into hours, although it was impossible to know for sure because every second seemed an eternity. No. He was smarter than that. Trusting his instincts, he knew he’d been moving for roughly half an hour. Strangely enough, he felt his fear whisked away like a swarm of gnats caught in the wind, replaced by an intense curiosity. He wanted to know where he was and what was happening. With a groan and then a clonk, the rising room halted; the sudden change jolted Thomas from his huddled position and threw him across the hard floor. As he scrambled to his feet, he felt the room sway less and less until it finally stilled. Everything fell silent. A minute passed. Two. He looked in every direction but saw only darkness; he felt along the walls again, searching for a way out. But there was nothing, only the cool metal. He groaned in frustration; his echo amplified through the air, like the haunted moan of death. It faded, and silence returned. He screamed, called for help, pounded on the walls with his fists. Nothing. Thomas backed into the corner once again, folded his arms and shivered, and the fear returned. He felt a worrying shudder in his chest, as if his heart wanted to escape, to flee his body. “Someone … help … me!” he screamed; each word ripped his throat raw. A loud clank rang out above him and he sucked in a startled breath as he looked up. A straight line of light appeared across the ceiling of the room, and Thomas watched as it expanded. A heavy grating sound revealed double sliding doors being forced open. After so long in darkness, the light stabbed his eyes; he looked away, covering his face with both hands. He heard noises above—voices—and fear squeezed his chest. “Look at that shank.” “How old is he?” “Looks like a klunk in a T-shirt.” “You’re the klunk, shuck-face.” “Dude, it smells like feet down there!” “Hope you enjoyed the one-way trip, Greenie.” “Ain’t no ticket back, bro.” Thomas was hit with a wave of confusion, blistered with panic. The voices were odd, tinged with echo; some of the words were completely foreign—others felt familiar. He willed his eyes to adjust as he squinted toward the light and those speaking. At first he could see only shifting shadows, but they soon turned into the shapes of bodies—people bending over the hole in the ceiling, looking down at him, pointing. And then, as if the lens of a camera had sharpened its focus, the faces cleared. They were boys, all of them—some young, some older. Thomas didn’t know what he’d expected, but seeing those faces puzzled him. They were just teenagers. Kids. Some of his fear melted away, but not enough to calm his racing heart. Someone lowered a rope from above, the end of it tied into a big loop. Thomas hesitated, then stepped into it with his right foot and clutched the rope as he was yanked toward the sky. Hands reached down, lots of hands, grabbing him by his clothes, pulling him up. The world seemed to spin, a swirling mist of faces and color and light. A storm of emotions wrenched his gut, twisted and pulled; he wanted to scream, cry, throw up. The chorus of voices had grown silent, but someone spoke as they yanked him over the sharp edge of the dark box. And Thomas knew he’d never forget the words. “Nice to meet ya, shank,” the boy said. “Welcome to the Glade.” CHAPTER 2 The helping hands didn’t stop swarming around him until Thomas stood up straight and had the dust brushed from his shirt and pants. Still dazzled by the light, he staggered a bit. He was consumed with curiosity but still felt too ill to look closely at his surroundings. His new companions said nothing as he swiveled his head around, trying to take it all in. As he rotated in a slow circle, the other kids snickered and stared; some reached out and poked him with a finger. There had to be at least fifty of them, their clothes smudged and sweaty as if they’d been hard at work, all shapes and sizes and races, their hair of varying lengths. Thomas suddenly felt dizzy, his eyes flickering between the boys and the bizarre place in which he’d found himself. They stood in a vast courtyard several times the size of a football field, surrounded by four enormous walls made of gray stone and covered in spots with thick ivy. The walls had to be hundreds of feet high and formed a perfect square around them, each side split in the exact middle by an opening as tall as the walls themselves that, from what Thomas could see, led to passages and long corridors beyond. “Look at the Greenbean,” a scratchy voice said; Thomas couldn’t see who it came from. “Gonna break his shuck neck checkin’ out the new digs.” Several boys laughed. “Shut your hole, Gally,” a deeper voice responded. Thomas focused back in on the dozens of strangers around him. He knew he must look out of it—he felt like he’d been drugged. A tall kid with blond hair and a square jaw sniffed at him, his face devoid of expression. A short, pudgy boy fidgeted back and forth on his feet, looking up at Thomas with wide eyes. A thick, heavily muscled Asian kid folded his arms as he studied Thomas, his tight shirtsleeves rolled up to show off his biceps. A dark-skinned boy frowned—the same one who’d welcomed him. Countless others stared. “Where am I?” Thomas asked, surprised at hearing his voice for the first time in his salvageable memory. It didn’t sound quite right—higher than he would’ve imagined. “Nowhere good.” This came from the dark-skinned boy. “Just slim yourself nice and calm.” “Which Keeper he gonna get?” someone shouted from the back of the crowd. “I told ya, shuck-face,” a shrill voice responded. “He’s a klunk, so he’ll be a Slopper—no doubt about it.” The kid giggled like he’d just said the funniest thing in history. Thomas once again felt a pressing ache of confusion—hearing so many words and phrases that didn’t make sense. Shank. Shuck. Keeper. Slopper. They popped out of the boys’ mouths so naturally it seemed odd for him not to understand. It was as if his memory loss had stolen a chunk of his language—it was disorienting. Different emotions battled for dominance in his mind and heart. Confusion. Curiosity. Panic. Fear. But laced through it all was the dark feeling of utter hopelessness, like the world had ended for him, had been wiped from his memory and replaced with something awful. He wanted to run and hide from these people. The scratchy-voiced boy was talking. “—even do that much, bet my liver on it.” Thomas still couldn’t see his face. “I said shut your holes!” the dark boy yelled. “Keep yapping and next break’ll be cut in half!” That must be their leader, Thomas realized. Hating how everyone gawked at him, he concentrated on studying the place the boy had called the Glade. The floor of the courtyard looked like it was made of huge stone blocks, many of them cracked and filled with long grasses and weeds. An odd, dilapidated wooden building near one of the corners of the square contrasted greatly with the gray stone. A few trees surrounded it, their roots like gnarled hands digging into the rock floor for food. Another corner of the compound held gardens—from where he was standing Thomas recognized corn, tomato plants, fruit trees. Across the courtyard from there stood wooden pens holding sheep and pigs and cows. A large grove of trees filled the final corner; the closest ones looked crippled and close to dying. The sky overhead was cloudless and blue, but Thomas could see no sign of the sun despite the brightness of the day. The creeping shadows of the walls didn’t reveal the time or direction—it could be early morning or late afternoon. As he breathed in deeply, trying to settle his nerves, a mixture of smells bombarded him. Freshly turned dirt, manure, pine, something rotten and something sweet. Somehow he knew that these were the smells of a farm. Thomas looked back at his captors, feeling awkward but desperate to ask questions. Captors, he thought. Then, Why did that word pop into my head? He scanned their faces, taking in each expression, judging them. One boy’s eyes, flared with hatred, stopped him cold. He looked so angry, Thomas wouldn’t have been surprised if the kid came at him with a knife. He had black hair, and when they made eye contact, the boy shook his head and turned away, walking toward a greasy iron pole with a wooden bench next to it. A multicolored flag hung limply at the top of the pole, no wind to reveal its pattern. Shaken, Thomas stared at the boy’s back until he turned and took a seat. Thomas quickly looked away. Suddenly the leader of the group—perhaps he was seventeen—took a step forward. He wore normal clothes: black T-shirt, jeans, tennis shoes, a digital watch. For some reason the clothing here surprised Thomas; it seemed like everyone should be wearing something more menacing—like prison garb. The dark-skinned boy had short-cropped hair, his face clean shaven. But other than the permanent scowl, there was nothing scary about him at all. “It’s a long story, shank,” the boy said. “Piece by piece, you’ll learn—I’ll be takin’ you on the Tour tomorrow. Till then … just don’t break anything.” He held a hand out. “Name’s Alby.” He waited, clearly wanting to shake hands. Thomas refused. Some instinct took over his actions and without saying anything he turned away from Alby and walked to a nearby tree, where he plopped down to sit with his back against the rough bark. Panic swelled inside him once again, almost too much to bear. But he took a deep breath and forced himself to try to accept the situation. Just go with it, he thought. You won’t figure out anything if you give in to fear. “Then tell me,” Thomas called out, struggling to keep his voice even. “Tell me the long story.” Alby glanced at the friends closest to him, rolling his eyes, and Thomas studied the crowd again. His original estimate had been close—there were probably fifty to sixty of them, ranging from boys in their midteens to young adults like Alby, who seemed to be one of the oldest. At that moment, Thomas realized with a sickening lurch that he had no idea how old he was. His heart sank at the thought—he was so lost he didn’t even know his own age. “Seriously,” he said, giving up on the show of courage. “Where am I?” Alby walked over to him and sat down cross-legged; the crowd of boys followed and packed in behind. Heads popped up here and there, kids leaning in every direction to get a better look. “If you ain’t scared,” Alby said, “you ain’t human. Act any different and I’d throw you off the Cliff because it’d mean you’re a psycho.” “The Cliff?” Thomas asked, blood draining from his face. “Shuck it,” Alby said, rubbing his eyes. “Ain’t no way to start these conversations, you get me? We don’t kill shanks like you here, I promise. Just try and avoid being killed, survive, whatever.” He paused, and Thomas realized his face must’ve whitened even more when he heard that last part. “Man,” Alby said, then ran his hands over his short hair as he let out a long sigh. “I ain’t good at this—you’re the first Greenbean since Nick was killed.” Thomas’s eyes widened, and another boy stepped up and playfully slapped Alby across the head. “Wait for the bloody Tour, Alby,” he said, his voice thick with an odd accent. “Kid’s gonna have a buggin’ heart attack, nothin’ even been heard yet.” He bent down and extended his hand toward Thomas. “Name’s Newt, Greenie, and we’d all be right cheery if ya’d forgive our klunk-for-brains new leader, here.” Thomas reached out and shook the boy’s hand—he seemed a lot nicer than Alby. Newt was taller than Alby too, but looked to be a year or so younger. His hair was blond and cut long, cascading over his T-shirt. Veins stuck out of his muscled arms.

[popping-greenbean]

i want to get back the energy i had as a kid where i would just put down things that came into my head ,, this is a personal art post technically so ill allow myself some 2 am personal thoughts feel free to skip

im realizing.here doing the art school things and being constantly surrounded by students and profs all with high standards and high expectations bc of the reputation of this program,, seeing classmates work played on the screen or put up on the walls, upper year students work, award winning thesis films, alumni getting spots in big studios, films + series, its so so easy, encouraged, to focus entirely on improving, like how to consistently make a clearer pose, smoother line, more engaging story ideas.and. of course its necessary and important and adaptability and fast improvement is something good to strive for when my eventual goal is a job in the animation industry when skill and efficiency and reputation will be what gets employment opportunities

but right now at least it is so.difficult to want to improve in a way that matters. and pretty soon ill stop making any sense here but the competitive nature of .how commercial art works ,combined with that of the academic setting with everything we make getting graded has been making it all just a non-stop trucking along to complete one project after the other which i do think is giving us huge + quick improvements in our tool skills, observation, storytelling yadayada but i am so.., its easy to forget why i wanted to become an artist to begin with,, . like when i was 6 and scribbling dragons onto sheets of lined paper and of course looking back now the drawings are formless, illogical but at the time i was so proud because dragons were cool and i made my own dragon right there on the paper and it had cool horns and scales and that was all and it all has gotten so complicated and its like.i am working to improve my skills just for the sake of improving with so little wiggle room in my brain for original concepts and i need to remember the insane visions for full song animations and magic fight sequences and mary sue ocs that started and kept me drawing way back and anyway ill stop for now if you read this far i love you and pls be kind

[popping-greenbean]

(rant/vent, probably will remove later)

feeling so mad and sick and angry right now because some people simply don't and refuse to understand that consistently choosing to be kind and considerate when life so often sucks is such hard work and it takes focus and self discipline and dedication to maintain this way of thinking and acting and to keep choosing to make the effort day after day because if you decide that being good to others is truly important to you then.like buddy youve got to commit to the whole fucking bit here, method act into madness i do not care . not at all claiming or believing myself to be a prime example but if leaving a positive impact is truly what you want you cannot just go "oh well, sorry i guess, nothing i can do about me doing those harmful things, its just who i am" and think that excuses any behaviour that's made someone else feel hurt or unsafe

[popping-greenbean]

saw a whole lot of notifications for new followers and for a second i was so :O and :D and then.i checked on follower list and saw the column of blank pfps and then i was so :::::)))))