#p: consequence

[ezra-smythe]

ezra's consequence || self-para

Fuck.

  Ezra rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he sat up, bare naked in the middle of the woods. He got drunk all the time, but he had never gotten this smashed. He didn't even remember what had happened last night, much less why he was covered in goo. This was starting to get out of hand, but he knew that he wasn't going to stop. He couldn't, really. So, taking a deep breath, he forced himself up off the ground and fought back the urge to vomit.

His head was spinning, but he had to get out of the woods before God knows what came after him. So, brushing his bare ass off, he started running towards what he thought was town. It took him about an hour to find himself at the edge of the woods, somehow getting turned around more than once. When he finally got to the edge, however, he paused. He was still very, very naked. Muttering to himself, he decided to make a run for it. If people saw him, they'd just think it was funny or something. Or at least that's what he told himself. So, he started off, running through town like a madman.

Getting more than a few stares, Ezra knew he had to fix this. He couldn't go back to the dorms like this. And then he stumbled upon his savior.

A clothesline full of clothes. 

He thanked whichever god felt like listening and started to run towards them, snagging a pair of pants and a shirt off of them before ducking behind a building. He slipped the clothes on, feeling a little bit better about his predicament. But then, he realized his dorm keys were gone. His hands shaking, he knew that he was going to have to get back in somehow. 

It took Ezra half the day, but he soon figured out which bar he had left his damn keys in. Thankful that he could finally go home and get some actual rest, he started back to the dorms. They happened to be on the other side of town, but he didn't mind. At least he had them, and didn't have to pay for a new pair. That would've just been embarrassing. 

His head pounding, he hoped no one was looking for him. The only person that might be was Lola, and he knew that she could find him anywhere. Or at least he hoped so. She was good at that. When he was finally home, he took off the stolen clothes that were a bit too big and threw them on the ground. They were covered in the sticky goo now too, and he knew he was going to have to wash them before bringing them back. But now, it was time to rinse off and try to figure out exactly what had happened last night. 

He still didn't exactly know.

[nate-blackwell-blog]

Chronicle | Part Two — Consequence [One-Shot]

Fear. That was what was coursing through his veins, plugging his arteries, stopping the blood from reaching his fingers and toes. Numbness had overtaken Nathan Edward’s nervous system as the crippling anxiety spread  from his core, threatening to consume him. Keeping his emotions in check had always been the boy’s top priority. Too much rage, anxiety, or stress was liable to tap in to the darkness that he harboured inside of him. It sounded like a cliche out of a movie—he had even used the line you wouldn’t like me when I’m angry—but frankly, it terrified him to even consider what he was capable of. Pushing those thoughts aside had always been easy before coming to Mystic Falls, but slowly and surely they were creeping back in. 

The trip wasn’t meant to be more than a gathering—the last wishes of his late father. Their late father. Only upon arrival did he learn that there was more to the get-together than just saying hello to the family that he never had. Austin, Derek, and Mallory had a sense of purpose and entitlement to their birthright. Nathan had no such pretence. Raising the dead, desecrating nature, that had not been on the trip itinerary. None of this had been on the list of things he wanted to do before he died, but he hadn’t fought it. He hadn’t questioned it. His innate desire to put family before all had lead him toward the slippery slope he presently found himself falling down, barreling head-first without stoppers or breaks, no way to present the oncoming collision: war.

Unwittingly, they had started a war. Perhaps that was an unfair assessment—Nathan had unwittingly started a war. The intent behind Austin’s actions, or Mallory’s, could only be a guess on his behalf. Part of him wanted to believe that they wouldn’t do something so foolish and selfish, but there was another part, his gut, telling him that something more was going on. Something he needed to prevent. 

Forcefully repelling the thoughts that had entered his brain, Nathan swallowed heavily, closing his eyes. Hands quickly balled into fists, trying to relieve his stress. The dark shadow eclipsed his heart, and the surge of power rocketed through his body. A sensation tingled his fingertips, like sparks ready to ignite against his flesh. Gritting his teeth, Nathan tried to quell the darkness. It was working, but resistance was becoming more and more difficult. 

Sooner or later, he would have to give in.