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hungrydogs-if · 2 years

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hey you know how some artist do concept art? well i do concept blurbs and wanted to offer you something since i haven't been super active in the past few days. let's just say i haven't been in the right headspace and should probably take a walk lol. i'll answer asks tomorrow (thank you for sending them in!), and sorry for the delay.

anyway, here's a little scene between dane and the mc. it's kinda sad. now, my writing isn't this flowery in the game, this is just a borderline delirious unloading i did at three in the morning, so forgive me for any weirdness. i'm not a native english speaker either so all mistakes are probably awkward.

(this is not canon btw, just want to make that super clear)

An angered echo splits through the house, bounding off the walls like hundreds of silent whispers warning of the gathering storm. A weekly occurrence, and the two voices always belong to the two forces of nature you've taken as your family; a fierce leader, and a commander of war, at odds over something you have yet to witness.

"We are not talking about this!"

The wooden door slams open and a woman of wrath pushes past you without second glance. You know better than to question a woman scorned, and let her breeze past you uninterrupted.

In the room beyond, the vision of a man mocked sits quietly, shadows of irritation dancing across scarred brows. You dare approach, a question reflected between you wordlessly.

"Walk," he speaks, a low reverberation that commands respect and obedience from those deeming themselves lesser. You, however, stand equal on the pedestals built, and recognize the somber undertone breaking through the venom.

Crisp nocturnal air plays in your hair as you step outside the confines of your haven. You fall in line with your companion, the scent of alcohol overpowering the underlying leather and gasoline you've come to associate with the man beside you.

In a scent like that, you know what's to come; a hardened mind unburdening in softness rarely spoken, a flood of prose not fit for a man of jagged teeth and bloodied hands. The grey in his eyes look tormented, red veins creeping from the corner of the waterline like tendrils.

A familiar dance, the silence of your tongues and the sound of heavy footfalls within the void of the night. You keep pace, note the tension ebbing away from shoulders adamant on defying the world by spite alone. The shadows stretch until your destination opens before you. The bench is a respite from the harsh world, something only the two of you share, a ground of forgiveness and secrets laid bare. You sit, and he sits beside you. You are silent, and so is he. The leaves above whisper in the wind, a warm touch caressing your exposed skin while the lights of the city shine across the drop of the cliff.

"A war is brewing," a somber voice finally speaks, breaking you from your reverie. It's no news, the unrest in the air has settled like a blanket over your lives, and you can only hum in agreement. You've heard his battle cries, deep from his chest when reassurance is what your soldiers need. You've heard the pride when recalling victories and camaraderie shared between you before. You've seen the bloodlust cloud his gaze when protecting that which he holds most important.

Yet like this, a god stripped of his divinity, he looks tired. The loss of life weighs down the strongest of men, and lifeless eyes burn in the mind like a reminder of what's to come.

Dread has hounded you through many battles, yet this time it feels as if death stalks closer than it ever has.

"What are you going to do?" You ask, calm in your tone even if your mind gives way to that old familiar dread. The answer is clear, always consistent, as much as you wished it changed.

"Whatever it takes."

#might delete later #i'm anxious about posting this haha #my friend called my writing pretentious so this is to spite him too #win-win all around #enjoy <3 #snippet.

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thechosenburrito · 3 years

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Intro to Love: 1.2-Clinic Crashers

Word Count: 1,016

Description:

Xochi makes a new friend on her way to grab some food but things take a terrifying turn

Author’s Note:

I reread each of these chapters before I post them here. This was written over a month ago and I feel like I’ve already improved a little!

Warnings:

Mention of Blood

/* I will take this time to mention that this series is meant to be a bit on the darker side where injuries and swearing and even death will be fairly common as the series progresses so proceed at your own risk*/

Previous Chapter: 1.1-Free on Sunday

I'm infamous for my sleep schedule, or lack thereof. I've always been more of a night person. During summer break, I'd stay up until the sun came up, go to sleep, and wake up at 4 pm. I thought it was a good system even though it essentially made me nocturnal. A nocturnal lifestyle didn't really lend itself to a college lifestyle. It meant I ended up sleeping for 2-3 hours a night and taking coma-like naps. I'm a pro napper. I can nap for 5 hours straight. That might actually be something to be concerned about. I'll put a pin in that.

The moment just after waking up is the best part of sleeping, just before you remember who you are. It's followed by the worst part of waking up: remembering everything that's wrong with your life.

When I woke up from my nap, after my regular dose of existential crisis, I rolled out of bed. I checked my phone and, yep, my notifications are bone dry. Actually, there was one, from an account I didn't recognize.

(C): hey this is carson. still on for sunday?

I quickly shot off a reply.

(X): yeah. noon right?

(C): yup

(X): cool. I'm probably gonna at least start it tonight

My stomach growled. What did I eat for breakfast? Oh yeah, I came back to my dorm and instantly went to sleep.

(X): after I grab something to eat lol

(C): cool. I can make a document and share it with you so we can both work on it

I must've struck gold.

(X): yeah that would be great

(C): alright I shared it.

(C): ok practice is starting. see you sunday

(X): ok. see you then. I live at Kathrine hall btw

(C): I know lol

(C): I live on the second floor

I instantly went into panic mode. I shot out of bed and started to pace a little. We lived in the same building!?!? How did I not notice !?!? I started going back through my memories, tearing through my mental filing cabinets. I check his profile and his feed. Looking at the pictures, it hit me. He was the guy a couple of rows down from me in my Physics lecture, the bench behind me in my Biology lab, and, worst of all, he sat two people down from me in my Chemistry lecture. This guy is gonna think I'm either not paying attention or don't care about the world around me at all.

I quickly replied something to save my skin.

(X): I'm kidding lol I know

(C): ok suuuurreeee lmao

(C): ok gotta go. see you saturday

(X): bye

I tossed my phone on my bed and started getting dressed to grab lunch. I pulled a flannel over my t-shirt, grabbed my wallet, put on some headphones, and headed for the dining hall.

The hair was hot and thick. It sat on you, crushing your chest. I passed a couple of runners and wondered how they could even go faster than a brisk walk when they were practically breathing hot soup.

I was trying to cross the street when a large white van whizzed past me so close I could feel the air move out of the way. I jumped back and fell onto the sidewalk behind me. A sharp pain shot through my wrist.

"WATCH IT ASSHOLE!" screamed a voice from behind me.

A girl came around and offered me a hand.

"Are you ok - OH YOU'RE BLEEDING!"

"Huh?"

I looked at my wrist and sure enough and I had partially grated it on the sidewalk. Blood was dripping all down my arm. I quickly grabbed it and just ended up getting blood everywhere.

"Yeah. I'm bleeding alright. I should probably go home and clean this up." I said as I forced a small smile.

I tried making a fist and winced.

"Ow!"

"Ok no. You're going to the clinic and getting that looked at," she helped me up with my good wrist. "Come on. I'll walk you to the clinic."

"Oh no! It's ok! I can make it!" I replied quickly.

"Too late. I'm already walking you." She started walking ahead of me and gestured for me to follow.

"Let's go"

I sighed and followed her.

"I think I've seen you in Bio Lecture. Dr. Vargas right?" she asked.

"Yeah. 9 am? Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays?"

"Yep! I'm Sarah! You should sit next to me on Monday....you might need help taking notes.". She gestured to my still bleeding hand.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Xochi. That would help." I said, giving a pained thumbs up.

We weren't too far from the clinic when we saw the white car that almost hit me pull up to the clinic.

"Hey, that's the guy that almost hit you!" She started running towards the clinic. "Hey! Stop!"

The second-hand embarrassment at the mere thought of her confronting the driver was just too much.

"Uh! You don't have to do that!"

I made an attempt to chase after her, but I was never really a runner in high school or ever.

The white car stopped and a figure stumbled out onto the sidewalk. He took a few steps towards the front door of the clinic before crumpling to his hands and knees. The car sped off. I tried to catch the plate numbers but it didn't even have any.

I did my best to catch up with Sarah. She tried to help him up, but his legs were shaking too much. She helped him onto his side and I finally caught up and got a good look at him. He had greasy black hair and dirty glasses. His eyes were wide and glossy looking. He was taking short shallow breaths and his lips were moving as if he were trying to speak. He smelled like he hadn't showered in weeks.

I felt a panic coming.

"HELP!" I yelled, my voice shaking. "SOMEBODY PLEASE! WE NEED HELP"

A few nurses came out to see what was going on and instantly swarmed him.

"Call 911!"

A/N:

So it’s getting a little intense for Xochi. This definitely isn’t the end of her troubles.

#original writing #fiction

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