H U N T E D.

❝I’m not afraid of death; I just don’t want to be there when it happens.❞ joaquin " j a c k " de la haze t w e n t y / h u n t e r saddle r i d g e elementary

[drakomalfoyyy-deactivated202006]

what do u mean i don’t have a social life I just went grocery shopping with my mom

[notnaivc-blog]

matrmvdita.

“The siren? Course it will, honey, has to.” Did it have to? Not necessarily. Did he have to know that? Not necessarily. Vanessa liked to keep a positive atmosphere around the camp, the lack conversation she’d endorse was one where she seemed insecure. She was allowed to be uncertain, that was why she welcomed council from every one of her campmates, but insecurity did not make for any kind of leader. Vanessa held tight to her beliefs and to her own knowledge, faith and perseverance always leading her way. 

The air around camp was a little frantic for her liking. All she found herself doing was head counting, each count missing someone. It hadn’t gone over her head that Apollo had been missing in each and every count. All she could hope to do was keep those passing through and those trying to build lives as comfortable and as safe as she possibly could. “If anything I’d just like it to quit so I can get some beauty sleep.” She started as she continued on with her barricading work, checking and rechecking each blocked exist.“Feel free to say I don’t need any.” She quipped, glancing over her shoulder and huffing out laughter to herself. 

( @notnaivc )

          the times where jack allows himself to be, well, just a kid are growing rarer and rarer each day but, at the presence of the woman ( and the current state of is health ) he’s allowing himself this slip -- only for this ONE thing. ❝ but what if it doesn’t ? ❞ he doesn’t like feeling afraid, even more than he dislikes feelings hopeless -- two feelings he’s been having a lot of recently. he’s not sure what brought this all on, why he’s even HERE talking to her but, in the back of his mind, he’s all aware of why. the woman brings a sense of calm to jack, something that reminds a lot of his own mother when she was still alive.

          he allows his mind to wander for a minute, hands wringing nervously as he stares out ahead to nothing in particular. he’s so stuck in his own head that he almost misses when words are said again, causing him to jump. ❝ no -- no you don’t need any beauty sleep. you’re, uh, you’re beautiful and you do a great job around here. ❞ he can’t remember the last time he called anyone beautiful, or any other word like it but that doesn’t mean he’s lying when he says it, he’s just a little preoccupied with other thoughts.

[musingmemes]

three word starters pt. 2

“don’t you dare.”

“look at me.”

“just forget it.”

“i’m not mad.”

“you’re being mean.”

“what a mess.”

“you are perfect.”

“jesus fucking christ.”

“you’ll be okay.”

“take a seat.”

“don’t let go.”

“oh my god.”

“you’re the worst.”

“you’re my favorite.”

“i ruined everything.”

“you ruined everything.”

“just trust me.”

“i’m not drunk.”

“i feel lost.”

“i’m so alone.”

“you’re not alone.”

“hold onto me.”

“just come here.”

“stay the night.”

“please just go.”

“please don’t go.”

[babyyakuza-deactivated20250219]

my gender is “pretty boy”

[notnaivc-blog]

privilegc.

Jack was dismissive and withdrawn, answering in short statements that made Blair almost think he had done something wrong. Yet Blair knew he hadn’t done anything wrong. He wasn’t mean in how he asked or confrontative in his demeanor. Was he too familiar in his nature? Blair shook off his racing thoughts, the barreling train of self-doubts and second guesses — he knew what he was thinking about wasn’t something that Jack was probably thinking.

As Jack’s speech progressed it got further and further slurred, something Blair was intimate with. His speech would slur after the interrogations, from blood filling his mouth from cuts and swelling of his face, so Blair knew something bad was happening to the younger man. When Jack gave him a final dismissal ( to go find Ponyboy? Ponyboy was already outside of the camp, something must be seriously wrong if Jack didn’t know that ) and then leaned so his head was between his knees, Blair was worried. His hand hovered above Jack’s shoulder, unsure about how touch would be received. “Are you sure you’re okay? You look like you’re about to pass out.”

          if it weren’t for the way he’s holding himself and his speech, it’d be hard to tell that something is wrong with the twenty year old. his sour attitude is nothing new, something every member the the elementary school group has had the chance to experience one or twice but now, sitting there feeling like he’s about to keel over, he doesn’t have the energy to be angry, even though his body is fighting hard for it.

          he’s never been good at admitting when something was wrong, even before the outbreak. the thing is, the consequence to his recent feelings is far worse than a simple slap on the wrist -- it could be his downfall. maybe that’s why, instead of snapping at blair once more, he shuts his eyes tight as he speaks softly. ❝ i’m a diabetic. s’pretty much a death sentence at this point but, y’know. pancreas isn’t making insulin, blood sugar spike and then this -- ❞ he gestures to is current position. he’s not looking for pity, but it’s hard not to get it when he’s like this and he knows it. ❝ m’fine though, just -- just need a minute. ❞

[notnaivc-blog]

tcintedbeauty.

She could have told herself that his annoyance was not personal – and it probably wasn’t – but there had never been anything quite as irritating as those words being said to her. Mostly in relation to her past job, like she couldn’t be anything more than an air-headed narcissist. Although she certainly had great practice in the latter. “Pretty princesses?” Lola almost choked on her laugh. She hadn’t asked anyone for a single thing like that since joining the camp, or much of anything, really. “It’s totally fine, I don’t need you to join me anyway. I’m pretty sure you’d only slow me down.”

          sure, his anger isn’t directed at her directly, but that doesn’t stop him from making every word leave his mouth personal. there’s no reason for it, other than he can ( and the further away he can keep people, the least amount of attachment he can make ) so he plows on, not taking the bait. ❝ i wasn’t gonna join you anyways. i’m very happy going out on my own, don’t need to stop to window shop every thirty seconds. i’m sure you can find someone who’s willing to gossip about everything and anything though so good luck. ❞

[notnaivc-blog]

tcintedbeauty.

It wasn’t often that Lola would go out of her way to make conversation with many people in the school other than their leader, and for once when she did decide to, the other was acting as if she were a total inconvienience. Hell, she probably was – and had just spent far too long being told her company was some kind of gift from God. None of that mattered now, though. Fame didn’t matter; she was just a girl… a fairly troubled one. Her lips drew into a thin line at the words, clearly not amused. “What’s up your ass? Do I seem so incapable of polite conversation?”

          watching lola get annoyed almost brings a smile to his face -- but he’s not enough of an asshole to let it spread. instead, he bites the inside of his cheek and watches her, tired eyes focusing on her expression, mostly. the ex-model doesn’t really bother him but, like most days, the first person to come near him tends to be the target for his bad mood, no matter what they come to see him for. ❝ at this very moment ? nothing, which is sad, if you ask me. most pretty princesses like you tend to be, yeah, so if you’re here to tell me to stay on the lookout for more pretty make up or the LATEST fashion piece, please spare me the pleasantries.  ❞ 

[notnaivc-blog]

privilegc.

Blair was still getting use to the school, to being around more people than he could count on a single hand. Increased people meant an interconnected webs of relationships, which meant he had to observe better in an effort to not piss them all off. But sometimes, there were people who were just already pissed off. Included in that count was a young man that reminded Blair of himself a lot. The younger man had a sister and he seemed just as devoted to her as Blair is to Ivy.

“Hey, Jack right?” He crouched down to speak level with the man. At least he thought that was the name of the younger man. “You’re a hunter right? I can tag along but wanted two people on this job. I was wondering if you would be able to help me find —” He broke off, noticing the shakiness and general not well demeanor of the younger man. “Hey, are you alright?”

          even though he’s been at the school for quite for over a year now, it doesn’t mean he’s made many connections within the camp. he stays because his father has always taught him that there was safety in numbers, a statement he’s started to doubt recently. he refuses to put his sister in danger but, the day this place goes back, jack won’t hesitate to grab her and run. that is -- if he’s still ALIVE at that point.

          he thought he was alone, up until he senses someone crouch in front of him. he looks up, irritation clear on his face as he looks up at the other ( the crouching isn’t helping; it makes him feel like a child ). ❝ i’m FINE. ❞ he’s quick to snap, rubbing his eyes before trying to focus on the blair. his eyes don’t quite focus right, but he won’t admit that right now. ❝ jack, yes. hunter, yes. ❞ he checks off, sounding a little more breathless than he’d like. ❝ if y’need people, y’wanna talk to ponyboy, other hunter. more of a people person. ❞ his speech is slurred and breathy as he leans forward again, letting his head fall between his knees again, running his fingers through his own curly locks.

[notnaivc-blog]

aeglctes.

“are you —” it’s cut short, the first two syllables bringing apollo a few steps back. she spends most of her time as a carer doing chores that doesn’t involve other people, and experience in the COMFORTING part is almost non-existent ( it’s a wonder, truly, how she succeeded in filling the job. she would’ve expected by now that it’s been taken by someone else – but then again, apollo thinks highly of others at a time of distress and not much of herself ). 

at the short seconds that she watches the other survivor, she genuinely thinks of STEPPING IN — to confront him and ask him if there’s anything that she can do to help. but her ears catch the almost soft fuck that he says and apollo somehow understands… or, in a different perspective, mistakes it as a warning. she clears her throat, then does it again. she taps a finger on the strap of a backpack, filled with supplies. “you shouldn’t be out here on your own.” apollo’s here alone as well, which doesn’t do much good for an advice that probably would only go unheard of. 

          he’s a hunter, he’s used to being out on his own. sure, he COULD chose to go out with the other hunter’s from the school but jack always prefers going alone -- it may not be the safest option but, for him, it’s the quickest. it allows him to be leave quickly, hunt quickly and, most importantly, get home quickly. the downside is that, sometimes, he gets stuck in positions like this, alone and tired and beaten down.

          ❝ i know. ❞ he replies, slightly breathless as he looks up at her. from the looks of her, he doubts she’d kick him when he’s down and steal his supplies, but that doesn’t stop him from pulling his backpack closer to his chest. ❝ you shouldn’t either. ❞ he speaks up again, a little louder this time as he runs his fingers through his brown curls. at this point, he just wants to go HOME at this point, but he’s not exactly feeling up to stand right now. ❝ i’m fine, you can go -- especially if you’re just gonna stare. ❞ there’s a certain amount of bitterness in his voice, though it isn’t caused by her, she becomes the unfortunate target, simply because of her proximity.

[notnaivc-blog]

ashhes.

– ASHLEY didn’t know if she should say anything. It was clear that the male before her was distressed. He looked pale. Slightly shaken. It wasn’t Ashley’s business, but she always had a damn problem with sticking her nose in. She opened her mouth, before closing it again. He seemed annoyed as well. But mainly… He doesn’t seem right. He seems ill. But not the usual kind.

Ashley straightens up from where she had been crouched, examining a few leaves. She’s still hesitating, unsure if she should call out, but the worry inside of her that he might faint or fall over… It’s empowering her to open her mouth. “Hey! Um. Excuse me!” Ashley calls out, rummaging in her bag to produce a slightly squashed water bottle. She hesitates again, before rummaging even further, and pulling out a questionable looking candy bar. She’s had it for a while- since the beginning- and never used it, so parting with it now doesn’t feel like too big of a deal. “Here. Are you alright? Some food may do you good.”

          it’s almost EMBARRASSING, the way his body betrays him so easily. in this world, it should be the undead who finally kill you, not your pancreas having a hissy fit. at least, that’s the way jack sees it, and, right now, he’s pretty sure he’s not going to go out in his preferred fashion, which ANNOYS him. well, really, everything annoys him, even the rustling of the leaves.

          when the rustling turns out to be a PERSON and not just the wind, jack jumps about a mile high. ❝ SHIT !  ❞ he hisses, clutching his side for a second, steadying his breath before looking up at her. he really hadn’t expecting anyone to be around, especially not someone who is willing to HELP. he squints at her skeptically before reaching out for the bottle. he’s not exactly dehydrated, but the lack of insulin in his body makes him feel like hasn’t drank in YEARS but he still takes his time with the bottle, opening it slowly while still eyeing the girl. ❝ keep the candy bar. ❞ he speaks softly before cracking open the bottle and downing the whole thing in a few quick sips. he’s silent for a few moments before opening his mouth again, voice steadier this time. ❝ sugar’s just gonna make this -- ❞ he gestures vaguely to himself. ❝ worse. ❞

[notnaivc-blog]

phlegmctic.

He stopped worrying about collateral damage the first time blue eyes gazed the depth of destruction – when grenades removed limbs so violently it made him flinch. It looked painful, just like truth ought to. War was not beautiful. Nor was chaos or violence or destruction. It was not nice, no matter what the poems or songs of old wanted to depict. There was nothing lovely about death. But Nicholas was not one to fool himself – not ever. He’d seen the gore and understood; where any other may had falter he continued. War was war, and war was pain. Nicholas knew how to deal with that particular feeling. 

Finding strangers in need of aid ( clearly this boy needed it ) was not a rare occurrence – although this account was told in the perspective of one who’d rather not see anyone at all, ever, period. The man was never really sure what to do with these people. Help? Soldier or not, he was no hero. No selfless agent of justice. No martyr. Nicholas Wayland lived for himself – each breath was one he acknowledged. Cherished? Not so much. He was a man who was not entirely sure what to be thankful for – if he should be thankful for anything. Strange bug. His arms crossed his arms over his chest at the sight of a breathless other ( even as he stood there he had no clue what to do with the suffering human – putting him out of his misery seemed like the kindest thing to do ), and like always words were…hardly there. His tone was nothing more than a soft mumble, easily carried away by the faintest breeze. “Fucked.” A statement. An observation. What he meant was ‘what’s wrong?’ or ‘are you hurt?’  or even ‘what do you need?’. What came out was not what he meant. What came out was always wrong because words were alien. Otherworldly. Out of reach. 

FUCKED. exactly how jack felt at this exact moment. his body, the one he’d worked so hard in feeling comfortable in, the one who had supported him through all of this, was trying to call it quits and all he could do was sit by and watch. any other time, he probably would have told the rogue off, jumped at the sight of a complete stranger but not in that instance. if his body was to shut down on him, one measly organ to be his downfall, he didn’t want to be ALONE.

sure, it’s a dramatic thought but the twenty year old had always had a bit of a flare for the dramatics. not really his fault, now is it. he looked up at the man and felt a twinge of jealousy -- how DARE this guy, this stranger come up to him and comment on the situation ? jack had been well aware of it, seeing as he was very much living it. the more he thought about it, the angrier he got -- up until he decided he’d had enough and risked standing once more. clearly unsteady on his feet, he swayed a little side to side as he tried to focus one one thing at a time; his breathing, calming down and, as an afterthought, his balance. the ❝ i’m fine. ❞ left his lips with short fuse anger, frustration more fitting on his baby sister than him. obviously he WASN’T fine, but it would take a lot more than a single word to make him admit that, especially as random spurts of anger came and went and were now somehow directed towards the taller man. maybe it was the fact that the stranger’s body didn’t look to be actively trying to kill him, or maybe it was simply the time of day. either way, the scowl on jack’s face was clear as he wrapped his arms around himself, avoiding the sharp stab of pain through his abdomen.

[notnaivc-blog]

open.

          he’s irritable. well, he’s ALWAYS irritable but the last three days have left the twenty year old a lot more snappy than normal, even towards his sister. he’s tired, CRANKY and downright sour, sitting down with his head between his legs. a second of REST, he tells himself, a second before he keeps moving, pressing on to do his job and get back home. the thing is, he KNOWS this feeling, recognizes the lethargy and anger settling in his bones as it has several times in the past. the truth is, his TYPE I diabetes has always been unchecked, always taken a backseat to everything else and even worse now that the world’s gone to shit, allowing his blood sugar to spike which causes days like this, leaving him tired and breathless and, most notably, ALONE.

          he should probably try to get to the hospital. he needs INSULIN, his pancreas needing the extra help because, if he keeps going like this, he’s not going to make it very long. ❝ fuck. ❞ he breathes out, running his fingers through his hair. he needs to get up, needs to do SOMETHING before his body gets any angrier than it is now, because it GIVES OUT on him.

[lyjerria]

always check yourself for unnecessary negativity and bitterness

[the-verdant-weirdo]

✓ unnecessary negativity ✓ bitterness

[notnaivc-blog]

@tcintedbeauty said: 77. ❝ made you look. ❞

          he almost says something mean in response -- ALMOST. not often are the times that he gets to be alone and he’s come to crave these moments, becoming easily irritated when someone interrupts him so, of course, when the girl kept badgering him ( okay, maybe not BADGERING, but jack’s feeling dramatic ) he eventually had to look up and give her the satisfaction of his attention. ❝ can i help you with something ? ❞ he speaks in an almost aggressively polite tone, spinning one of his sister’s colored pencils between his fingers just to do something -- the presence of anyone immediately putting him on edge. ❝ im, uh -- not going out until tomorrow, if that’s why you’re here. ❞ he fills the silence once more after she doesn’t respond, trying to guess why lola sought him out.

[notnaivc-blog]

@copper-choked-capillaries said: 77. ❝ made you look. ❞

          after a few years of living in the hell hole that the world has become, jack made up some rules to stay alive. rule number one: don’t jump out at people. especially not when said people have weapons that could very easily get you killed. ❝ jesus FUCKING christ, dude ! ❞ the twenty year old yells louder than strictly necessary, hands lowering the gun handgun he’s holding back to his waist. the older boy had been lurking in the woods, rattling around branches and putting jack on edge, leaving him with the sensation that he was about to get JUMPED by some undead, which is the last thing he wants right now. ❝ no shit i looked, i almost fucking killed you, ASSHOLE. ❞ his voice loses some of its bite as he puts the handgun away, crossing his arms over his chest. he’s seen kevin a few times now while hunting, but the sense of familiarity didn’t help the anger and anxiousness that sits uncomfortably between his ribs as he stares at the other. 

[notnaivc-blog]

@avcnging said: ❝ it always ends in a fight. ❞

          he could almost laugh at her words. actually, he does, an incredulous giggle slipping past his lips as he looks up at the leader of springhill suites. he really doesn’t mean to laugh, but maybe the end of the world is really starting to get the curly haired boy; maybe he’s just starting to lose his damn mind. there’s a certain amount of discomfort accompanying her visit; jack never fairs well around any type of AUTHORITY. ❝ no offense, ma’am, but how else would it end ? ❞ he questions, his fit of giggles calming down to a trickle as he avoids eye contact with the blonde. ❝ i mean, isn’t that the most the most normal thing about this whole world ? people fought before, they’ll fight now; it’s familiar. ❞ he tries to explain his train of thought, hands stuffed deep in his pockets as he speaks.

[gallagherista]

You know what, man? Don’t do me any favours, okay?