An excerpt from my WIP — a very dark, intimate, and intense story to come. Sharing fragments as I draft; reader impressions and interactions are always welcome 🖤
I haven’t written anything in ages so this is literally from an assignment i forced myself to start today, it doesn’t even have a name. It’s a little more than seven lines but oh well, the stopping point was weird otherwise.
Anyway:
I think my father’s upset with me.
I saw him in the bathroom mirror as I brushed my teeth, the minty foam dripping down my chin. He scowled, though he almost always does, but there was a sort of pity behind his eyes. I splashed some water on my face, and he was gone, just as Jonas rounded the doorway. I buried my face into his chest for a split second until he held my head and said he needed to shower. That was my cue to leave. We slept until sunrise when I rolled over to face him, scared to open my eyes. Part of me hoped I was back home, that I hadn’t called Jonas crying, that I wouldn’t have to tell Noreen about it at lunch.
As I laid there in the dark stillness, eyes firmly clamped shut, listening to the harmonised breathing, flashes of my father swept my vision. Memories of him teaching me to ride a bike; images of him shaking his head when I came home late. When I opened my eyes, Jonas was still there, but behind him I saw my father, reading a book in the armchair, whistling to himself. I think he is upset with me.
Okay cool. Now for the tags. Of course no pressure to do this but I’d love to see anyone who does. @silassghost @annlillyjose @aesa and ofc anyone else who wants to xx
I only have the willpower to write absolute crack these days, so here's a world-hopping reader ❤
Word Count: 2.8k
Rating: T
Tags: Story Extract, Adventure, Fluff, a lil angsty but not much, Newt acting like an absolute mom, Gally x Reader, Isekai
For the purposes of understanding the tiny details in this extract: Reader jumps realities to the Glade via a rechargeable power called the 'Tick'. She has an irl friend called Kai, and she's being hunted in her reality because of the power she stumbled onto. We enter the scene after she's jumped into the maze and has hidden until sunrise to avoid Grievers. Crack Fics, yo. Where logic has no home.
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You woke again sometime later, with the sun well and truly beating down from above. The crawlspace had turned into an oven, leaving your body clammy and damp with sweat.
Panting for breath, you fought against the ache in your muscles and pulled yourself from beneath the vines, rolling out onto the stone path. You lay there for just a second. You stretched your body, welcoming the shift in climate. The air was still warm, but not nearly as stifling as your hiding spot.
When you decided it was time to move, you used the vines to pull yourself up then wobbled like a new-born calf. You always hoped this part of the Tick would get easier. It never did. You were destined to always start your time in the Glade with backache and stiff legs.
Taking slow steps to begin with, you headed towards the open gates then smiled when you spotted the ever-green grass of the Glade. It was a sight for sore eyes after the treacherous maze and the confines of your apartment.
Teetering at the edge of the maze, you stuck to the wall like glue to keep hidden. It had been a few months since your last visit. There would be boys here now who did not know you. You didn’t want to startle anyone by wandering into the Glade like you owned the place, especially when the third and most important rule of the Glade was to never venture beyond the walls. If a Greenie saw you strutting in from the maze, they might even think you a Griever and try to gut you before anyone else could explain. It was an absurd worry, but as you were being hunted by villains in another reality, it was best to play it careful here.
You peered around the edge of the gate, keeping a sharp eye out for anyone close enough to see you. Some boys were working in the distance, too far away to distinguish, but for the time being the coast was clear.
You slipped into the Glade, heaving a great sigh of relief once you were inside the walls with no one calling out about your arrival.
Searching for something in particular, you traced the wall until you found the familiar patch engaved with the thirty names of the Glade's inhabitants. Some letterings were old, some fresh, and some had been chiselled through entirely to signify those who were dead. There were more names crossed-out since your last visit than you liked to notice.
Tracing your fingers over the stone, you lingered your gaze on each newly crossed-out name before daring to look for his. You knew exactly where on the memorial Gally’s name was, but the fear of seeing a strike through it caused you to falter.
You had promised Kai that Gally would not die so easily, but the maze was a cruel and unpredictable place.
After taking comfort from seeing some of your Glader friends’ names still intact, you dared look at Gally’s. And there it was; the five letters of his name boldly chiselled and untouched for three long years.
He was still alive.
You gave a little sigh of relief as you placed your hand to his name. You felt guilty for doubting him, but one of the worst things anyone could do in the Glade was hope for something good.
But now that you had that reassurance, a spring found its way into your step as you scurried along the perimeter towards the Gardens. Having come from the East Gate, and aiming for the Homestead in the North-West corner, your fastest path was straight across the Glade, but until you found Gally, or at least any of the prominent Gladers who knew about you, you didn’t want to stand out.
So you kept to the walls and headed north towards the Gardens, hoping to reach the Homestead without much hassle.
“____?”
But then again, some hassles were worth having.
You turned, hearing a familiar voice, then saw a mop of dirty-blonde hair as your second favourite Glader, Newt, appeared from amongst the Garden’s trellis. He grinned when he saw you.
“Long time no see, love.” He wiped the mud from his hands onto his pants then came straight over to hug you.
“I’m so glad you’re still here.” You said, only realising now how much you had missed your Glader friends. Newt embraced you, chuckling as you buried your face into his collar to say hello.
Newt was a tall, thin boy, who acted as the second-in-command amongst the Gladers. He radiated a natural friendliness and was often a source of companionship for you during your stays. Actually, if not for Newt, Gally himself would have banished you to the mercy of the maze on your first trip here. Your first encounter with the Tick had been completely accidental, and you had been just as afraid and upset by your arrival as the rest of the Gladers. It had only been Newt’s interference in a kind and calming manner that had settled everyone down, including you, and certainly including Gally.
“You’ve got impeccable timing as always, love.” Newt quipped, drawing back to get a better look at you like a mother hen checking over its chick for scuffs.
“Oh?” was all you could manage, pursing your lips to hold down a chuckle as he tilted your face to check you weren’t hurt. He was one of the only Gladers who knew that you entered the Glade through the maze, so he was always especially eager to check you over for stings.
“Aye,” he said with a playful grimace. “We’ve been having a bit of bother with wood-rot. Gal’s been especially grumpy from the extra work, and he’s been getting on everyone’s nerves. Think you can sort him out?”
“I’ll do my best.” You agreed, half-heartedly batting Newt’s hand away to tell him you were fine. “Do you know where I can find him?”
A boyish grin broke onto his face. He held an arm out towards the Homestead, enjoying the thought of someone putting the Keeper of the Builders in his place.
“He was working on the roof last I saw him. I can walk you over. Keep the greenies out your hair.”
You thanked him for the gesture as he dusted off his clothes, then he offered you his arm. You smiled, linking with him, then the two of you began a merry walk through the Glade like a couple of sweethearts in springtime. You kept the pace leisurely to accommodate Newt’s limp, and it gave you time to ask him about the changes since your last visit.
“What are the new recruits like? Any stand-outs?”
Newt chuckled, adopting a playfully serious tone.
“A bag of shanks if ever there was one.” He counted-off on his fingers. “Two new Builders, a Slopper and a Gardener.”
He gave you a pointed look, wondering if the news of a gardener would pique your interest when it was the role you usually adopted while you were here.
“Ooo, I guess I’ll have competition then.”
Newt pulled you closer into his side with a gentle squeeze at your waist.
“Don’t worry, love. He doesn’t wear a piny nearly as well as you.”
“Ha. I knew it.” You said, pumping your fist in mock victory, causing Newt to laugh.
“I’m glad you’ve not lost your sense of humour while you’ve been gone. How are things over there? Are they starting to settle down?”
It hurt only a little that Newt looked so hopeful, like he expected you to say that all your problems were gone and that life was perfect. Unable to grace him with such pleasant news, you shrugged and forced a smile.
“My life will never be settled, Newty. I like the chaos too much.”
“Good, that. At least it keeps you coming back.”
You opened your mouth to tell him that even if your real life was sunshine and rainbows, you would still visit, but the sound of fervent hammering caught your ear and stole your attention. Newt noticed and linked your arm tighter, like he expected you to go running off like a crazed toddler.
“Best not to charge in, love. You might give our new builders a heart-attack.”
You pouted playfully, but understood what he meant. The Gladers were made up entirely of amnesiac, disoriented boys. They arrived one per month via an elevator box in the centre of the Glade, completely memoryless, then struggled to make lives for themselves as one giant family.
The addition of a new Glader came like clockwork, so if you appeared all of a sudden, and being a girl no less, it was bound to cause an uproar. You knew that, and Newt knew that, because you'd managed to cause that same problem twice already.
Fortunately, as you approached the Homestead, you realised for the most part that it was empty. Everyone else was out doing their daily jobs, and only the builders were on sight to carry out maintenance.
Once you were stood outside the handmade home, engulfed by the sounds of hammering, Newt squeezed your hand with a gentle smile.
“Don’t tell him I said this, but he’s missed you.”
His words caught you off-guard. Before you could respond, Newt let go of your arm then cupped his hands around his mouth to shout at the top of his lungs,
“Gally, have you got a minute?”
The loud hammering noises ceased. Somewhere up on the roof, the timbers creaked as bodies shifted, then Gally called back,
“What’s wrong?”
Hearing his deep voice after so long sent a flutter of warmth through you, even if he did sound especially irked. Newt had not been exaggerating earlier.
“I’ve got something that might need your attention. Can you come down?”
You pressed a knuckle to your lips to hold down a smile as your anticipation built.
“Can’t it wait? We’re busy.”
Newt rolled his eyes.
“It’ll only take a minute. Come on.” He turned to you. “Bet he wouldn’t take this much convincing if he knew you were here.”
You liked to think he was right.
The wood groaned again as a certain someone found his way down from the roof on the far side of the Homestead. By now, Newt’s shouting had caught more than just Gally’s attention and others were making their way over from various areas of the Glade to investigate.
Gally came around the corner, wiping the sweat from his brow by lifting his shirt up to his face. The action gave you a very clear shot of his stomach and Newt could only chuckle as you squeaked in bashful surprise.
“What’s so important that I’ve gotta’ look at it now?” asked Gally, fixing his shirt back into place with a gruff tug. But the question was barely past his lips before he stopped dead, catching sight of you.
“Look who I found in the Gardens,” Newt announced with a cheery grin, taking full delight in Gally’s startled expression.
Seeing that neither you nor Gally planned to move, Newt put his hand into the small of your back then pushed you forwards, like a mother forcing their child into a playdate.
Unprepared for the shove, you stumbled but stopped before you could trip and make an embarrassment of yourself.
“H-hi, Gal.”
Gally didn’t speak. He didn’t move. The only reason you knew he hadn't died on the spot was the blink of his eyes and the ever-furrowing arch of his brows.
“Play nice,” Newt warned jokingly, as he knew what was going to happen next, especially with other Gladers closing in.
“Gal?”
The question was barely past your lips before Gally finally reacted.
You braced yourself, side-eyeing Newt to say goodbye as the builder stormed towards you, then his large hand clamped around your wrist.
“Inside. Now.”
Without breaking a sweat, Gally turned and marched you inside the Homestead, missing the arrival of the other Gladers by seconds, with Newt there to ward them off.
“Best give them some space, chaps.”
Inside, Gally kept hold of you as he pulled you straight through the council room and out to where the Medical and Keepers’ Rooms were. In this primitive Glade, they were the closest places to privacy anyone could wish for, aside from the washroom.
Minho, the Keeper of the Runners, was relaxing peacefully in his hammock when Gally stormed in. He barely had chance to spot you and wave before Gally shot him a look.
“Come back later.”
Minho clearly couldn't decide whether Gally was joking, but when he realised he wasn’t, Minho frowned but pulled himself out of his hammock, regardless.
“This is what I get for finishing my run early.” He pushed past Gally to get out, but flashed you a smile on his way past. “Welcome back, ____.”
“You look well, Minho.” You called after him, hoping to soften the impact of Gally’s mood.
Gally held onto your wrist until he knew the two of you were alone. He stayed still, listening out for anyone else. Even you strained an ear, wondering if perhaps the nosier Gladers would try to listen in, but after a moment, Gally released you. He stepped away and turned, sinking into his hammock with his feet over the side. His exuberant height meant they still planted firmly on the ground.
“Why are you here?”
He met your gaze and held it, his expression firm. Gally was never was one to beat about the bush.
“Hello to you, too.” You said, though your dry humour failed to break the tension. Gally raised his eyebrows, clearly waiting for you to drop the attitude and answer him. “Don’t be like that, Gal. You know I wouldn’t do this without good reason.”
He furrowed his brows further, but his expression slipped from impatience to something more like concern.
“What happened to Kai?”
“No, it’s not that. He’s alright.” You sucked in your breath. “I've finally got a target on my back, that’s all.”
Alarm flashed through Gally’s eyes. He went to stand up but you held up your arms to keep him still. “It’s okay. I’m fine. Kai's been keeping me safe.” You didn’t like how talking about the dangers in your other life made your breath shake. “But he’s gone off to fight. This is the only place I can hide. I’m sorry, Gal. I know we said I’d stay there this time. I know we did but—”
Gally was in front of you before you could stop him.
“Enough.”
One word was enough to silence you. He pulled you into him, wrapping his arms around you before the true extent of your worries could take hold. Gally wasn’t the kind of person to talk about sentimentalities, but his firm embrace was enough to shush the uneasiness in your heart. It told you: he was glad you were here, and here you were safe.
“Thanks, Gal,” you murmured, pressing your face into his chest as you wrapped your arms around his broad midsection, your fingers almost touching.
He grunted in response, keeping hold of you until he was sure you did not need him.
“How long are you here for?”
You rubbed your face against the scratchy material of his shirt, trying to tell him you did not want to talk about it. You had just got here, and you had missed Gally more than you cared to admit. The last thing you wanted to think about was leaving him, especially when it led you to worry about Kai's fate.
“A few days. Maybe. I need to recharge.”
Gally was quiet for a moment and you gave him time to think, enjoying the strength and the warmth in his embrace, particularly because you knew it was a softer side of him reserved entirely for you.
“Fine.” He said, finally, definitively. He rested his hand against the back of your head, keeping you held against him in a clumsy but affection hold. “I’ve still got jobs to do. Should be done in an hour, though. Stay here so you don’t bother anyone else.”
“Would I do that?”
You tried to pull back so he could see your feigned hurt expression, but he kept you pinned because he knew that was exactly what you were trying to do.
“Behave.”
He stroked your hair, dwindling your urge to rebel. “Might as well enjoy the quiet while you can. Shuck knows you won’t get any peace once everyone knows you’re here.”
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Imma do my best to get back to writing properly (or at least headcanons?) but let me know if you want any more extract dumps because I have hundreds that are rotting because I cant finish anything 🤣🤣❤
and is it bad that i’m jealous of how loudly he grieves? how fiercely he lets himself go through each stage at his own pace, how easily he admits that he’s going through shit right now. how comfortable he is asking for his space to process things, how easily he finds the balance between letting people in to help him but not broadcasting it to the entire school.
because honestly, i know i’ll never get over this if i don’t grieve, if i don’t let myself sit in these feelings. the problem is that i can’t. how do i hold my heart when it’s this heavy. how am i supposed to function under these conditions.
but he takes up all the space he needs and i’m jealous, i’m so fucking jealous, that he lets himself do that.
Harper nervously tapped the end of her pencil against her clipboard. It was still alive, even though it probably shouldn't be. Number Zero had only lasted a week, and there had certainly been some others- Number Four and Six most notably- that had made it up to the tenth stage. Neither had survived extraction, and Harper wasn't willing to let herself be hopeful enough that Number Eight would either. Not on their first try. The first try never worked.
But maybe… maybe it would be possible. Maybe.
She just hoped Mevia didn't try to make her be the one to discard the carcass again if otherwise.
Themes: manifesting, problem solving, cleverness, determination, concentration, communication, creativity, productivity
In which I present to you an exclusive preview from chapter 24! Or, the one where Elise puts her getting-people-to-open-up skills to good use to find out how to change Zahir’s mind about leaving the band. Enjoy!
Zahir smiled sadly. "You just need a new guitarist," he said. "I've been looking for one, but…" He trailed off, looking sheepish.
"But approaching people is hard?" Elise finished the sentence for him.
His face lit up a little. "That's right!"
"Been there, done that, got the T-shirt." Elise grinned, and Zahir laughed. "But hey," she added, sobering up, "you sure you don't wanna come back before we replace you?"
Zahir's laugh vanished as quickly as a drawing wiped off an etch-a-sketch.
"I…" Squirming, he fidgeted with his book, hesitating for a long, heavy moment. "I…don't know."
Elise stuck her hands into her pockets. "What's keeping you?" she asked.
"I don't think I fit in," Zahir admitted. "It's like…like all of you are in your own world, and I'm just there."
He paused for a moment, pondering his words, and then he continued. "That didn't make sense," he admitted. "But I…you're all way older than me! And the music you like is so different. Whenever you talk about a song or a band, I have to Google it!"
Elise nodded, mentally jotting down everything he had said. "Right, you're into different music," she said. "The songs we make aren't really your music either, right?"
"That's not it!"
Elise bit back a smirk. Her deliberate phrasing had hit the mark.
"I really like our songs!" Zahir insisted, not even noticing that he had included himself. "But I don't know any of the music you four listen to…and I don't even know where to start! And then you put it on and all sing along and I'm just…" He dropped his gaze to the ground. "I'm just standing there!"
This time Elise didn't bother hiding her smile.
"Been there, done that."
Zahir blinked. "Huh?"
"I get it. It can be overwhelming," she said. "But hey, I don't think it's the end of the world either."
Before Zahir could answer, Elise took a glance at the clock beside the door. "Anyway, I think you should go into the classroom," she said. "You don't wanna be late again, do you?"
Tag list: @writer-in-monochrome, @alicewestwater, @mouwwie, @writingbyjillian (notify me to be added or removed!)
