dread stop

In regards of my artwork Black & Gold:

#wait HOLY SHIT#IS THIS JUST COINCIDENCE OR IN REFERENCE TO THE SONG BY SAM SPARRO#because this song gets a whole new level in connection with Solas#like… religion in general in that universe#I think my mind is being blown right now

@medeadea No, it’s actually not hahah

But! You did piqued my interest in the said song so I searched for it on Youtube and instantly fell in love! I love the whole black tie costume used for the music video so I drew Solas in it.

I hope it’s an appropriate appreciation to Black & Gold by Sam Sparro!

Today is Mother’s Day in Belgium. I was sitting at the table working on MEL stuff when mom asked me what I was doing. So I started explaining what “lore” is, how related to worldbuilding it is (she didn’t know the term) and what we’re trying to do with MEL. It was basically a five-minute long explanation of the Mass Effect universe and why we’re analyzing it.
She stared at me when I was finished.
“Go on,” I said. “You can tell me it’s a waste of time or that it’s ridiculous. I won’t get mad.”
“Honey, why would I tell you something is a waste of time if you like doing it?You should always do things that make you happy regardless of how pointless it may seem to others. It’s your life, isn’t it?”
Mom is always encouraging me to get my work noticed (actual irl work) so I thought she would say that I could do better things than spending hours on MEL, you know? But she was just supportive, even if she didn’t entirely get it. It’s nice. I’m lucky to have her :)

*sigh* SINCE THE WRITERS COULDNT DO IT, i will write the scenes after keith tells the team he’s got galra blood

i have no hate for the writers actually tho, this is bc i wanted to write something and this seemed a good choice!!!

—–

The room was quiet around Keith, the only sound his labored breathing.

It hadn’t gone over too well. He himself hadn’t been surprised, no, he’d come to grasp the fact and slowly been accepting it over time. Hours in the medlab at night studying his own genealogy and casual questions for Coran made him feel slightly better and more confident about it himself, but that didn’t stop the dread of knowing that Shiro knew now. Shiro, who’s life had been all but utterly destroyed by the Galra. It wasn’t his burden to bear, and Keith felt terrible.

The team had been quiet when he told them, Shiro’s hand reassuring on his shoulder, warm. He didn’t want to hide it, and telling them was like letting a waterfall out of his mouth. The words just came. The tension in the air after he was done was palpable. Allura was staring at him in slight shock, but mostly anger. Hunk and Pidge were staring at him as well, questions swimming visibly in their eyes. Lance was the only one who wouldn’t look at him.

That hurt. For some reason, Lance not being able to look him in the eye was terrifying. He had counted on Lance to make a joke, to lighten the mood, but he said nothing. More than it hurt, it scared him.

Allura’s voice was sharp as she dismissed them and told them to go get some sleep, to rest. As if, he scoffed in his mind. She looked at him only once, and it wasn’t friendly. Hunk smiled at him as they all started to leave, which cheered Keith up slightly, and Shiro nodded at him as if to say he was proud. Lance disappeared. Coran caught him in the hall and confessed he had guessed it already - Keith wasn’t very subtle at times. Coran’s reassurance was comforting but his room was still cold and dark and silent. Pidge stopped by, to say goodnight, but Keith caught the way her eyes roamed him as f to catch signs of being purple or furry. He tried to just say it was the scientist in her, but it was hard to convince himself.

He was trying to focus on Red’s mental purr, trying to calm down, when someone knocked on his door. He let them knock one more time, then stood and opened it.

Lance, looking at him with tired eyes. Keith stood and waited, biting his lip and trying not to panic.

“Lets go swim.” Lance said quietly, and Keith furrowed his brow unconsciously, questioning.

“We should sleep.” He said, but Lance shook his head.

“I can’t sleep and neither can you. Let’s go swim.” He almost sounded desperate. Keith stared, then nodded quietly, going back into his room to change.

Swimming had become a coping method for them. It was a silent, unspoken tradition that if a battle was rough, they’d meet in the pool. Upside down, it was hard to swim normally but the water was comforting, the echo of the room and the lapping of water. Keith thought Lance liked it more than he did, after a few comments and then some silent moments where he would go away, in his mind, to somewhere else that had a beach and was warm.

He met Lance in the elevator, the ride quiet and then they made their way to the pool. They were silent as Keith fiddled with the panel on the wall, flipping the pool to normal for them. Sometimes they would leave it to try and laugh, but he felt now was not the time.

Lance was already in the water when Keith turned around, the lights dimmed in their own simulation of night. The sound of soft splashes filled the air, and Keith sat on the edge and dipped his feet in.

“When I was a kid-” Lance started to talk, quiet, floating on his back and staring at the ceiling. “-a lot of people were mad at me because I wasn’t American.”

This was news. Keith shut his mouth and listened.

“I lived in America, studied there on a student visa from Cuba.” He sighed. “A lot of people gave me shit for it, and I wanted to give up a lot. But I couldn’t, because my mom was waiting at home and I promised her I would make it.” He sounded a little wistful.

“People told me to go home, called me dirty, other slurs. People suck sometimes, especially because I hung out with Hunk and he’s from Hawaii. Xenophobia sucks major dick. I know. I’m sorry I was silent today.” Keith decided to speak up.

“It’s alright.” He said. “I expected it.” He hadn’t. Not from Lance.

“I was surprised.” He straightened himself upright, swimming to the edge by Keith’s legs and looking up at him intensely. “But it doesn’t change my opinion of you. You’re still Keith, you’re impulsive and do cool things and are a great pilot and you’ll still annoy the shit out of me, no matter what you are.” Keith blinked, choking back a laugh of relief or terror, he couldn’t tell.

“Lance-” He said, and Lance shook his head.

“Actually nah, that was a lie. You don’t annoy me. Maybe a little, but you really don’t in general.”.

Keith slid off the wall into the water and grabbed Lance, pulling him into a hug. He felt awkward doing it, but did anyways. Lance hesitated, then hugged him back.

“Lance.” Keith said, blinking more to hide the tears. “Thank you.”

“Yea.” Lance said quietly, letting him hug. “Of course.”

“Sorry.” Keith pulled back, separating them. “I just-”

“It’s fine.” Lance interrupted, and it was quiet as they smiled at each other.

“We’re still space ranger partners.” Lance said, holding his fist out and grinning a little, and Keith choked, then laughed quietly.

“Space ranger partners.” He said, lifting his own fist to bump Lance’s.

Okay Plance AU where they’re both Altean nobility and their parents just contracted an arranged marriage for them but they’re both pretty young still so it’s going to be a few years, and they’re both horrified and so mutually agree to do everything in their power to Stop This Dreadful Thing From Happening by whatever means necessary

But in the course of their conspiring and subterfuge, Pidge starts to get uncomfortably… comfortable… around Lance, and Lance stops paying attention to the gorgeous Altean ladies walking past because wow Pidge is hilarious, and wait wow is it hot in here wait am i blushing, and of course they don’t have feelings for the other, no, because the whole plan is that they DON’T get married, they DON’T want this, they DON’T

Or at least, the other one doesn’t, do they?

Stop! Tagging! Your! Boho! Bullshit! Gypsy!
It’s offensive and rude! That’s not what ‘gypsy’ is! It’s a racial slur! And they, the Romani people are people treated as 2nd class citizens, get their children taken away, are living in poverty! GYPSY IS NOT A FASHION TREND OR SOME “SPIRITUAL” SKY PICTURE ASSHOLE

I’m so heartbroken for the world. We are being destroyed by our own kind. We are experiencing pain because our own kind creates it. Why do you do that people? Why do you have to kill those innocent human beings? Our lives are already limited, every life ends with death - it’s unavoidable, but why do you have to take someone’s life before his/her time? Life is a present that should be lived happily, that should be LIVED. Please stop taking lives, please, you are not Gods, you are no one to have a right to take someone’s life. NO ONE HAS THAT RIGHT. World, please stop. Please, I beg you, let’s turn hate into love, let’s turn Wars into Peace. Let’s be friends not enemies. Let’s live happily and stop making each other suffer. Hey, we are all made of the same thing, we are called human-beings, let’s be sensible, let’s show compassion, let’s be human-beings. We are living with a feeling of dread, let’s stop that, let’s spread light, let’s fulfill this world with light again. Let the light cover the darkness. Let the peace start over bad things.

“And I would have stayed up with you all night, had I known how to save a life.”

It’s indescribable. The fear in the pit of her stomach she’d felt all evening. Something telling her that something was desperately wrong. And no matter how many hours she’d spent trying to work out exactly what it was, she’d been left in the dark. Completely unable to settle the nervous feeling and wondering why the hell she constantly wanted to throw up. And why her hands seemed to ache to touch her wife.

She just, she wanted to see her. To find her, to run her fingers through her blonde hair and gently run a finger down a dimpled cheek. She wanted to run her hands along the body she had come to know better than her own and find a comforting familiarity in soft pink lips pressed against her own.

It’s not that it was unusual for her to miss Arizona. Callie had often found herself quite literally craving the closeness of her wife and it was something that warmed her heart when she’d learned Arizona was just the same. Tonight though, something was off. Just plain wrong. The need to see her, to hear her voice and just touch some part of the other woman to ground herself, it was near unbearable.

And that’s why she found herself on the peds ward, eyes scouting for something, someone, her Arizona.

“Calliope?”

Callie quickly turns on her heels and lets out a deep breath, closing the short distance between them and wrapping her arms around her wife.

“I’ve calmed down now Callie, you didn’t have to come check on me.” Arizona mimicked her though, fingers gripping at the back of her wife’s scrub coat and telling Callie everything she needed to know.

“I know, I do know. I just needed to see you. I’ll miss you tonight.” Damn Boise. And damn Karev. Damn him to hell.

Arizona’s smile was futile but she offered one anyway, fingers gently tucking brown hair behind an ear, “I’ll miss you too, Calliope. Kiss Sof’ for me.”

Nodding, Callie kisses her forehead, lingering for as long as she can, “I love you.”

“I love you, too”

She thought that would be enough, she really did. But scrubbing in for her next surgery and still everything just felt wrong. And finally, the word formed in her mind and settled in her chest and she understood. It was dread. All evening, even after finding Arizona, she’d been filled with dread. But whatever she was dreading, how could she stop it when she has no idea what it was?

Callie pulls her scrub cap from her hair and throws it to the floor, groaning in frustration. She can feel unwanted tears sitting on her lashes and she just wishes she could understand what her body was trying to tell her.

Fingers fumbling around, she quickly pulls out her pager and finds someone to take over, unable to take someone’s life in her hands while feeling so unstable. While feeling like the world is going to crumble around her she’ll be all that remains.

“Left leg amputation, the patient is a 36 year old female, brought in after a car crash.” She nods at the surgeon before pushing hard on the door, walking out and taking in as much air as possible.

It’s not enough. Nothing seems to be enough. She checks her watch and groans, a stream of words she’d never say in front of Sofia leaving her lips.

Before she can think about it, her feet are moving of their own accord. She barley knows where they’re taking her but she knows where she’ll end up. The same place she always ends up.

“Arizona! Arizona wait.” She pushes through the crowd of surgeons, her friends, her family, about to head off for a life changing surgery.

"Callie?”

"Please don’t go.”

Eyebrows furrow in confusion and Arizona sighs quietly, “what? Callie it’s one night-”

"I know. I know that, I do. And I know you’re angry and pissed at Karev and you want to punish him or whatever and I actually get that, I do.” Callie grabs her wife’s hand and pulls her closer, using her other hand to hold Arizona’s chin so their eyes meet in some bid to share whatever it is that’s going on with her, “I just need you not to go. I don’t know why, I can’t explain it but something’s wrong, Arizona. Something’s wrong and I want you to stay with me, I need you to stay with me and with Sofia. Please. Don’t get on that plane.”

Arizona watches her wife, the anxiety obvious in her wide, tearful brown eyes. She doesn’t understand what’s happening but honestly, she’s absolutely exhausted. She’s hurting, she’s miserable and she’s exhausted. She’s good at running. She’s run all her life. She’s even run from Callie. But now? Running doesn’t seem like such a good idea. Not when she could go home with her wife and daughter and just… just be. Just breath and just be.

"Karev!” The young surgeon is just leaving the hospital, making his way to his car and he frowns, not in the mood for another lecture, “screw up this surgery and I swear you’ll never work in this hospital or any other til the day I die,” she shoves the folders in his arms without another word and slips her hand into her wife’s. They need to pick up their daughter and go home.

And that’s what they do.

Callie shudders and fights off another wave of tears. She doesn’t know how to breathe, what to think, what to feel. Because yesterday had been something she knew she’d treasure forever. Waking up in the post love making glow with her still naked wife, so wrapped up in each other, skin clammy and sweaty and pressed together in the most intimate of ways. Arizona had opened up to her in ways she never really had before and somehow she loved her even more. She would forever be grateful that she had stayed when she’d ask. Phoning in sick from work and spending the day with her two girls had been the icing on the cake. Until the phone call.

And then dread had turned to realisation.

Because Arizona’s plane had fallen from the sky and now they were lost. Lost presumed dead.

But Arizona wasn’t on it. Because she had been sitting across from her at the table, too caught up in feeding their daughter to even notice Callie’s face fall. She was making aeroplane noises and grinning widely at her baby’s smiles and oh god, it was almost too ironic.

When Callie had put the phone down, she’d pulled Arizona up from her seat and clutched her checks and ran her hands through her hair and almost collapsed against her as she’d tried to take in every ounce of her wife.

“You’re here,” she had whispered, “oh my god, you’re here. You’re okay. You’re safe. I love you, I love you so much. Your plane fell out of the sky but you’re here. You’re okay.”

And now, the blonde sleeps beside her, as equally naked as she had been last night. Both had felt the need, through tears and declarations of love and need and want, to just feel. And so they’d felt.

Tomorrow, tomorrow they’d talk about the guilt and the fear and utter disbelief. Tomorrow, they would talk. But now?

Callie rolled over gently, an arm wrapping around Arizona and pulling her against her front, nose nestling into the back of her neck.

Because she is here and she is okay. And that is so much more than enough.

marissamon  asked:

can you write a fic where bughead promises to marry each other when their young. so when jughead & betty are celebrating their anniversary, jughead proposes. ( betty remembers later on that night about the promise they made)..

of course love! 


Betty was nervous and she didn’t know why. She just had this gut feeling that something bad was going to happen tonight and she just couldn’t shake it. It was her and Jughead’s ten year anniversary. They had been through so much together. The murder of Jason Blossom, the rest of their high school years, their college years, and their move back to Riverdale. 

Betty stood in the small bathroom of their quaint little apartment and stared at herself in the mirror. She had certainly matured. Her blonde hair was nearly down to her waist now and she had curled and pinned it nicely on the top of her head. Her face was clear of makeup except for a little bit of mascara, blush, and some lipstick. She wore a skin tight baby pink dress that reached just to the top of her knees, leaving her long legs bare. Her black scrappy heels were tied up around her ankles and she had accessorized with small diamond earrings, her key necklace, and a diamond bracelet Jughead had bought her on their fifth anniversary. 

Betty bit her lip and continued to stare at her reflection in the mirror. She could swear she was forgetting something. Pushing it to the back of her mind, Betty stepped out of the bathroom to meet Jughead in the living room. Jughead was gathering his keys and his wallet when Betty stepped into the room and when jughead looked up he did a double take. 

“My my my,” Jughead grinned, looking her up and down. “You look beautiful Betty.” He said walking over to her and kissing her on the cheek. “You ready to go? I made the reservation for eight.” Betty took a look at the clock on the wall and saw that it was almost eight and she nodded her head. They made their way outside, Jughead holding the door for her as she went. The restaurant was just down the street so they walked instead of wasting the gas. 

“Hello!” The hostess greeted them. Betty smiled at her and so did Jughead. 

“We have a reservation under Jones.” He told her and she glanced down at her book before nodding and waving us after her. 

“Of course, right this way.” The restaurant was busy tonight. The hostess stopped at a table for two situated more towards the back and waved her hands at it. “Here you are. You’re waitress will be right with you. Enjoy!” 

Jughead and Betty both thanked the girl before she left and took their seats. Not long after a waitress by the name of Hannah came by and took their drink orders. Betty ordered a glass of wine and Jughead settled for water. When she came back, Betty and Jughead were ready to order, Betty ordered chicken fettuccini while Jughead got the steak meal. 

“How was your day?” Jughead asked Betty when the waitress had left them to put their order in. 

Betty sighed. “It was long. All day I have had this overwhelming feeling like I’ve missed something. I just can’t shake it.” She tells him and Jughead frowns, taking her hand in his. 

“I’m sorry love, but other than that, all good?” He asked raising an eyebrow and Betty smiled. 

“Yeah, all good! Work was a breeze, how about you?” Jughead smiled and shrugged his shoulders. 

“Perfect.” He smiled again, staring into her eyes and Betty smiled back. She really wanted to kiss him right then, but their waitress was back with their food. 

“Enjoy you guys!” She said before she left again, leaving them to their meals.  

When they were finished with their food and the waitress had returned to take away their empty dishes, Jughead took Betty’s hands in his and took a deep breath. “I love you, so much Elizabeth Cooper.” Betty smiled sweetly and squeezed Jughead’s hands. 

“I love you too.” She told him. Jughead pulled his hands out of hers and leaned back in his chair for a moment before returning to his normal position.

“Can you believe it? Ten years already.” Jughead exclaimed and Betty giggled. “I can still remember the first day I kissed you. It was in your room, we were in the middle of an investigation and you were getting worked up and I just kissed you.” Betty smiled at the memory and she felt her heart warm. “I wasn’t sure how you were going to react but that day I can remember thinking to myself ‘just do it Jug, if you don’t you’re going to regret it forever’ and I am so glad I did it.” 

“I’m glad you did too.” Betty smiled at him, folding their hands together once again. Jughead pulled out of Betty’s grasp and Betty furrowed her eyebrows together in confusion. Jughead stood from his seat and moved to her side as Betty looked up at him with confuse wide eyes. 

“Ever since that day we have been inseparable. We’ve done literally everything together and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Solving the murder, graduating High School, moving to New York, NYU, and finally moving back here. I love you so much Elizabeth Cooper.” He told her as he moved onto one knee producing a small jewelry box from his jacket pocket. 

Betty’s eyes instantly began to fill with tears and she brought her hands to her mouth, covering it as Jughead opened the box revealing the most perfect engagement ring Betty had ever seen. “Elizabeth, Betty Cooper. Will you do me the great honour in becoming my wife?” He asked her, his mouth twitching up in a nervous smile.

Betty couldn’t speak so instead she nodded her head vigorously, giving him her left hand so that he could slide the ring on. She hadn’t realized the entire restaurant had gone quiet and was looking at them until a huge round of applause bursted out when they stood to kiss and hug. 

Betty was glowing. Her smile was the widest it had ever been and Jughead’s was the same, his eyes were even a little damp from a few tears that had escaped as he popped the question. The waitress that had been serving them before came back to their table with a receipt for them and handed it to Jughead. “Tonight is on us. Congratulations you two!” She beamed at them before leaving them yet again. 

Jughead folded the receipt and placed it in his wallet, pulling out a couple bills and placing them on the table for the tip before extending his hand to Betty. “Shall we?” He asked her and Betty took his hand following him out of the restaurant. 

“We shall.” She beamed, wiping away the rest of her tears as she went. Once they were outside and on the empty sidewalk, Jughead spun Betty around before taking her in his arms and kissing her. 

“So,” Jughead said once they had both pulled out of the kiss. “Is your feeling of dread finally gone?” Betty stopped for a moment and her eyes widened. 

“Yeah actually,” her eyebrows furrowed in confusion until she finally understood. “Oh my god! I remember now! On our fifth anniversary you told me you wanted to marry me and I said to ask me on out tenth anniversary. How could I forget that!” 

Jughead chuckled. “To be fair, we were in the middle of a hectic year at NYU so I understand.” Betty shoved his shoulder with her own and laced her hand back with his. “I’m only teasing you. Now,” he grinned, “how about a milkshake at Pop’s, future Mrs. Jones?” 

Betty blushed and planted a kiss on his cheek. “I could get used to that, and yes of course.” Jughead smiled and they both made their way to the old diner together, hand in hand while Jughead’s finger stroked the band of Betty’s engagement ring. They both could not be any happier. 

8

Two/Android parallels - 4/?

Ephemeral [2]

(adj.) - lasting a very short time; short lived

Member: Namjoon

Genre: Angst, some sort au that is tbd (i think i’ll keep it a secret for now), romance(?)

Words: 1.6k

Summary: There is a man in your dreams. You don’t know what he looks like or what his name is - you only know the sound of his voice. His voice. His voice follows you where ever you go. These dreams are your only source to see him, yet these dreams feel so real.

A/N: Part 2 going strong :) I also created a little something for the future so stay tuned :) Enjoy Xx 

[ one ] [ three ] [ four ]

Originally posted by nelliel66

“Where did you go?” Aeri whispers in your ear as you take your seat next to her.

“Just to the washroom. The wind messed my hair up a bit. Is it starting soon?” You mentally pat yourself on the back for the subtle change in topic.

Keep reading

I’m so mad right now.

Are people actually using the Scot’s and Celt’s and Vikings as EXCUSES to say to POC that white people wore dreads?

DO NOT FUCKING USE MY HERITAGE AS A PLAYING CARD.

I’m Scottish and have never once been told about dreadlock care, or how meaningful it is to wear as a people. What I have been told about is tartan and kilts and braids. Tattoo’s don’t hold as much meaning to us anymore though, but they did before.

Yet no mention of dreadlocks. (and if you use any roman accounts as evidence I swear to fucking god I’m going to punch you in the neck)

For one we didn’t even fucking wear dreads. It was all about braids. And another thing, even if by chance we did (which we didn’t) that wouldn’t give you the right to fucking wear them. If it was cultural, then it would be of value and meaning to us and solely us as a culture, like how we have Ceilidhs and how we throw the Highland games. Just like it is with POC and their dreads. It’s something that they have done and always will do. Now the reason why us Scot’s DON’T dread our hair is very simple. Our natural hair isn’t meant to do that. Braiding and curling and beads and feathers, yes. Dreads, no. Not even slightly.

SO DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE SAY THAT US AND THE PICTS AND THE VIKINGS DID IT.. No. No we fucking didn’t. I can’t believe you’re even using that as an excuse. Fuck off with your bullshit and stop appropriating other goddamn cultures for fashion. It isn’t edgy, it isn’t cool. You’re just a goddamn asshole.

Dreads are beautiful on black women and men. They know how to care for them properly and I think they’re the most gorgeous wearing them, when I see someone POC wearing dreadlocks, they always look so stunning. Us whitey’s look fucking stupid with them because guess what! GASP! It’s not our thing. It will never be our thing. Stop trying to convince people otherwise because I can point you to about 6 Scottish folk who will kick your fucking ass for trying to use us as bargaining chip because you’re so desperate to set yourself apart from the crowd.

While we’re at it, you just stink. Like seriously stink. You have no knowledge on how to care for your dreads. You have no idea. Neither do I since IT’S NEVER BEEN MENTIONED EVER AS A CULTURAL THING. Funny though how every POC with dreads smells lovely. I’m guessing, and I say this with all the shade at the idiots who think they can get away with it, I’m guessing it’s because they have accounts and accounts of evidence as to how to properly maintain the locks.

So just fucking stop. Stop stealing from other cultures. You’ve taken enough from them. Stop it.

So this story is a bit different, it kinda just became its own story. I started writing and this is what it became. 

Warnings:Cursing, mentions of depression, insomnia and self harm, also mentions of almost dying, mentions of medication for this. If any of those things trigger you please don’t read this. I know these subjects are sore for me but in writing this story I didn’t even realise that while writing this because I got so into it. This is probably really badly written with spelling errors so if you see anything that I  could correct please let me know. This will be a sad one, I wrote it about heartbreak in mind, and I know that it’s a bit cliche.


Isaac: Y/N, I am leaving Beacon Hills

Y/N: Why?

Isaac: I can’t stay here. I am tired of seeing everyone I love die and leave me! 

Y/N: So you decided that you do it to me instead?

Isaac: What?

Y/N: Isaac I have been in love with you from day one, when you still where the shy kid that got hit, to the day you decided to be a douche to me because you became a werewolf, I have been in love with you for years through thick and thin yet you don’t realise.

Isaac: I can’t do this Y/N I loved Allison she died and I can’t stay here.

Y/N: THEN LEAVE! DON’T STAY, MAYBE I CAN STOP LOVING YOU! BECAUSE YOU NEVER LOVED ME AND YOU DECIDED YOU’D LEAVE ME ISAAC!!


Isaac: I’m sorry Y/N

*About a year later you were severely injured and ended up in the hospital, you didn’t want to tell Isaac so you told them to wait. But when you got worse they called Isaac because he was your best friend before he left*

ISAAC’S POV

I was just sitting in the living room watching TV when my phone started to ring, I looked at it and saw it was from Scott, he’s been trying to get me to come back. He tried a couple of times the the ringing stopped. but after a couple of minutes of silence I got a text. I decided to put my phone on silence and wait a while to see what they have written. Silently hoping for a text from Y/N.

After two hours I decided to look at the text that they have sendt me. I have gotten one from everyone in the pack except for Y/N. When I first looked I increasingly got more worried. Then I got to Scott’s teks which was more detailed. He told me that Y/N was attacked a couple months ago and got put in the hospital, and that you now had gotten worse and now was scared for your life. 

Immediately after reading this I got out my laptop and got a ticket to one of the first planes to Beacon hills, I packed a bag and got to the airport.

 The first thing I did when I got back was going to the hospital. The first thing I see is the pack and Malissa talking in hushed tones. I walked up to them and let’s just say they were shocked to see me there. They yelled at me before I could go to see someone that I haven’t realised that I loved before it might be too late.

Walking up to Y/N room I got incredibly worried for what I was going to see next. As I walked in I broke down seeing You be there as pale and thin you had gotten. Melissa took a notice of this and pulled out a chair next to your bed so I could sit down next to you. She left the room and I could hear her tell the pack to leave us alone.

I started crying more and praying for you not to leave me.


GENERAL POV

Isaac: You cant leave me Y/N I don’t know what I would do if you aren’t alive. I realised that I absolutely love you when I left I can’t do this if you’re not alive anymore.

*He says this as he leaves the room to talk to the pack*

Isaac: What happened to her?

Scott: Someone called the dread doctors. Y/N stopped talking to anyone and quit school shortly after you moved. We decided after a year of her not talking to anyone and withe everything that had happened that we’d talk to her and try to get her to go back to school. But when we got to her apartment it was broken and she was gone. 

Isaac: You didn’t talk to her for a year!?!?

Scott: She didn’t want to talk to anyone we would call and text her every day but she never answered. The girls went to her apartment more then once, but YOU did something that broker her. We found her in the dread doctors lab. She was hooked on to all these machines and had been experimented on, we don’t know what they tried to turn her in too. All we know is that she had a transplant as a baby so she was compatibel for their experiments. 

Isaac: And in all of this you never thought about contacting me?

Stiles: She was so broken when you left, she sometimes came to me at 3am crying herself to sleep.

Melissa: She came to the hospital an was diagnosed with insomnia and depression. She got put in the hospital because she almost bled to death when I came to visit her because she had cut herself, and she begged me not to tell the pack to you. She goes on so many different medication so she won’t die because her mind is taking over her. Thats why nobody contacted you because she didn’t want anyone to know how much pain she really was in Isaac. The only one who knows this is me because she told me and I was the one who treated her!

Isaac: I didn’t know

Melissa: No you didn’t, but I do know that you knew that she loved you. Yet you left and broke her heart. She has known you for almost her entire life. She was the one you would go to when you needed a shoulder to cry on. She has told me everything.


ISAAC’S POV

How could I have done this to her. It has been over a year yet I never tried to contact her or even texts her to ask if she was ok. And now she might be dying and she will never know how I feel. God damn I screwed up. I made her hate me so much when I left that she didn’t want anyone to tell me how she was. This is all I could think about as I entered her room again.

- Y/N if you can hear me, I want you to know that I love you. And I am so sorry that I didn’t realise that before you became like this. Before I fucked up and feel in love with Alison or before I left, I am SO sorry Y/N please don’t die. 

This is all I got to say before her heart monitor started going of. All I heard was the doors being slammed open and doctors and nurses running to her bed. And the pack coming to me and pulling me out of the room much to my protest. She was dying and it was my fault. 

Something that felt like an eternity later Melissa came out of the hospital room with a sad face and told me that you had died, this broke me the reason I left in the first place was for the people I loved. I Didn’t want to see them die, yet the person I loved the most died because I left her and broke her heart. I asked Melissa if I could see her one last time, and she agreed. 

-I am so sorry Y/N this is all my fault.

What happens next shocked me. She just shotes up from the bed with red eyes, but they’re not like an alphas eyes they are deeper almost like blood.