#but these last few days it’s been so slow and even doing a basic task takes forever

[louferrignojrofficial]

i need to do these few gifs before i can go to sleep but my laptop is malfunctioning more than usual and at this rate i’m about to scream and then bash it into the wall repeatedly

[kaisacobra]

I See You - Tara Carpenter

Part 2 of I Dare You

Summary: At one of Amber's infamous parties, Tara's feelings get more and more complicated as she starts getting to know you.

Warnings: Fem!Painter!Reader, slow burn, mentions of sex, alcohol and partying, minor angst, non canon/high school

w.c: 6.9k

So, the glitch in the matrix seemed to be lasting much longer than you anticipated.

You did your best to forget the interaction you'd had with Tara and, honestly, that hadn't been such a difficult task. You still had a life, after all, and the rest of your day was divided into making preparations for the volunteering you'd be doing at the hospital during the weekend, studying and trying to make any progress on your painting.

Unfortunately, the last task proved itself to be annoyingly impossible, no matter how hard you tried. You'd tried everything from throwing random brushstrokes at the canvas to staring at the blank space while upside down in your bed, which filled your brain with blood but not with ideas.

There came a point when you had to admit defeat, at least for a day, and you picked up your phone to try to distract yourself from what seemed to be your greatest artistic failure. Your plans were to doomscroll through all possible social media and try to get the slightest bit of inspiration, but your attention was grabbed by a text notification coming from your Instagram.

From the username, it was clear that the text had been from none other than Tara Carpenter, which made your heart race a little in response. Your profile was a bit hard to find because there were no photos of you, which meant that Tara specifically had to look for you for a while. What's more, your profile was basically an exhibition of your artwork and the idea of someone other than your friends and teacher looking at all your projects made you a little anxious.

The texts themselves contained nothing much, apart from Tara apologizing for taking your pen (which you didn't even remember lending, to be honest) and then trying to strike up a conversation by asking you about Freddy vs Leatherface. Even so, noticing that she'd made an effort to keep on talking to you left you swooning.

You answered, of course. It would be rude to leave someone on read, wouldn't it? And besides, you were already planning to procrastinate anyway, so why not be nice and talk to Tara for a few minutes?

Who cares if minutes became hours, right?

And when school started the next day, you felt lighter, somehow. To your relief, no one seemed to remember your disastrous stumble the day before (probably because few people remembered you in general) and so you didn't have to deal with any giggles or weird looks.

You were in the middle of getting some books out of your locker when a familiar pen levitated into your field of vision. Your gaze followed the tanned arm that was holding it and you were met with long eyelashes and a sly smile.

“I'm a woman of my word! Here's your pen.” Tara raised the object towards you, making a funny reference to the text she had sent you the day before.

You rolled your eyes in amusement, although you couldn't hold the expression for long due to the corners of your lips lifting involuntarily. You took the small item from her hand and quickly put it in your bag. “Thanks, it's good to know you're not a thief. Did you at least bring one pen today?”

She understood the light, false accusatory tone in your voice and raised her hand, showing two fingers raised in a V. “Haha. Just so you know, I brought two today.”

It was amazing how instantaneous and right that conversation felt, almost as if it was the kind of thing you did all the time and not for the first time. Talking to Tara was surprisingly easy and you could see at least a friendship blooming between you in the near future.

If it weren't for the fact that she hangs out with the most insufferable people in the world, of course.

The reminder of Tara's group of friends hit you like a thunderbolt and made your chest ache for some reason. The words of both Ethan and Mindy echoed in your head, warning you to be careful, but a large chunk of your mind also insisted on reminding you of Anika's more positive opinion on the topic.

You turned to your locker again, pretending you were looking for something that didn't even exist. “I could never manage with just one pen.” You added politely, not wanting to leave Tara's joke unanswered just because your thoughts were getting muddled.

“I know. Artist and all, aren't you?” The girl nodded and you could see out of the corner of your eye as she leaned on the locker next to you, crossing her arms while still looking at you with a thoughtful expression. “Hey, don't you feel like going to a party tonight?”

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as you processed what she had said, but Tara remained completely unbothered by your side. As far as you knew, the Carpenter girl didn't usually throw parties, but Amber Freeman did, and she'd instituted a very specific rule about them ever since she'd thrown the first one during your freshman year:

Invite only. No losers allowed.

And, as far as you knew, in Amber's opinion you were included in the word “losers”.

“I don't think so.” You shook your head. “Amber's throwing this party, isn't she? I don't have an invitation and I don't even like parties that much.”

Tara laughed out loud at that, causing a few heads to turn in your direction and your cheeks to heat up like coals. “I'm inviting you, ain't I? and seriously! I've never even seen you at the boring school parties, how are you supposed to know if you like parties or not without ever having tried them?”

Okay, you weren't expecting Tara to rebut your arguments or be so insistent about your presence. Was it getting warmer or was it just your impression? “But... I don't even know anyone who's going, I'll probably just stand in the corner the whole night. And also, I have an appointment the next day, I can't, like, go wild...”

Unexpectedly, Tara let out an even louder laugh, this time even wiping away a tear that ran down her cheek. “Go wild? You're hilarious.” She controlled her breathing, still keeping a bright smile on her face. “You don't have to drink if you don't want to, no one's going to force you. And about the being alone part, you can invite those friends of yours. Amber won't mind, she wants more people at her parties anyway and she refuses to call sophomores and below.”

You looked at her with surprise and suspicion. Invite your friends? Did Tara remember that your friends included Mindy Meeks-Martin? Like, basically Amber's number one enemy, Mindy Meeks-Martin?

Tara finally noticed your wary expression and sighed, uncrossing her arms and raising both hands in a peaceful gesture. “Look, Amber said I could invite nice people and I think you're nice. She'll be busy with other things anyway, she probably won't even notice that your friends are there.”

You bit your lower lip, considering your options. On the one hand, parties weren't exactly your natural habitat and you still had your doubts about whether or not you were welcome there. On the other hand, Tara had been so kind to you lately and... for some reason, you wanted to explore it a little further.

“Can I give you an answer later? I'll ask my friends if they're going.” That's what you decided to answer, choosing to leave your conflicting future in the hands of your dear companions.

Tara nodded a yes and complemented the action with a shrug. “Okay. But even if they decide not to go, I think you should give it a chance.”

Suddenly, the bell for the first period echoed in the corridors, waking you both up to the fact that you had to be in your classrooms in a few seconds. As lockers closed and teenagers ran to avoid being late, Tara lazily turned around and started walking away, ending your interaction.

But you didn't want it to end so soon. In a impulsive act, you raised your voice. “What should I wear?”

Tara turned as soon as she heard you and her eyes slowly traveled up and down your body as a smile worthy of the Cheshire cat broke out on her face. “Wear something pretty! But I think you were already going to do that anyway.”

System crash. Your brain shortcutted. Did Tara had just...? No, she couldn't have possibly... checked you out? Were you seeing things?

As Tara's back got further and further down the corridor, you ran back to your classroom, muttering on the way, “God, I'm really not your strongest soldier.”

_

“I need to ask you something.”

You were extremely nervous. Your fingers kept drumming on the table and your brain was desperately trying to think of a way to convince your friends to A) go to Amber's party with you and B) not think you were out of your mind.

Tara's words (and her actions, by the way) really made you consider that crazy possibility. On any other occasion, you would have denied it as quickly as possible and then run away, but you were finding that Tara Carpenter could be extremely convincing.

Mindy swallowed a piece of the sandwich she was holding, making a dismissive gesture with her hands. “I’ve told you before, we have no interest in a throuple.”

Sitting next to her with her feet propped up on her girlfriend's lap, Anika raised an eyebrow and smiled playfully. “Who says we don't?”

“What?!” Both Mindy and Ethan shouted, although the girl clearly got the joke and was just going along with it, while the boy seemed really bothered by the idea. You and Anika let out a loud chuckle and you smiled at her in appreciation, knowing that she had joked around just to make you less nervous.

With the mood more relaxed, you took a deep breath and said the words in rapid fire, fearing that they would never come out if you lingered too long. “Tara invited me to Amber's party and she said I could invite you guys. Would you go with me? Please?”

“Absolutely not.” Mindy quickly denied your request, putting on an angry expression. “And why would you want to go to a party like that, anyway?”

“That's right, only assholes go to that kind of thing.” Ethan agreed with the girl, looking equally annoyed by your suggestion.

Your eyes turned to Anika in a plea for help and she nodded almost imperceptibly. Opening her famous warm smile that reached her eyes, she grabbed Mindy's arm and pouted. “Pleeeeeeeeeeeease, I've always wanted to go to a party like this. We can just go and laugh at people being dumb.”

“We can laugh at people being dumb at school literally all the time, I don't need to be at Amber Freeman's house for that.” Mindy objects, but it's obvious that she's already starting to give in to her girlfriend's charms by the way her face looks more peaceful.

Anika looked in your direction and you understood that you would have to stay in that ping pong game of arguments until the other two gave in. “Amber won't even notice we were there! Tara said there would be too many people for her to handle.”

“Aaaand,” Anika added, moving even closer to Mindy, almost sitting on her lap on that narrow wooden bench. “Our theme for the A.V club project is literally young and reckless! What's more young and reckless than Amber's parties?! We'll get some great material if we go!”

Mindy considered the proposal for long seconds that left you on the edge of your seat. You knew Ethan would probably go if you all did, so it was really all in the Meeks-Martin girl's hands.

Finally, she sighed and rolled her eyes, slipping an arm around her girlfriend's shoulders. “Okay, I'll go. But I’m warning you, if Amber even looks in my direction, I won't answer for myself.”

Anika squealed, grabbing Mindy's face and pulling her close to kiss her cheek, which clearly got the girl flustered even though she only replied with an “alright, alright”. You smiled at this, feeling a mixture of amusement and relief at knowing that your friends had agreed to embark with you on this madness.

Ethan hadn't necessarily agreed yet, but when you looked in his direction, he sighed dramatically, so that his brown curls moved with the wind. “If you're both going, I think I'll go to keep y/n company. So she won't be a third wheel and won't be bothered by idiots, you know?”

You thanked the boy with a pat on the shoulder and his smile automatically widened. Across the table, Mindy laughed. “Oh, I don't think you have to worry about y/n getting third wheeled, Ethan. Tara invited her, did you forget?”

“Holy shit. I have to tell Tara.” You remembered your conversation with the girl earlier, rushing into her DMs and completely ignoring the jokes and teasing from the girls in front of you.

You just hoped they could also ignore your completely flustered behavior.

 _

We're going!

A simple message had made Tara's day a thousand times better. She'd forgotten how insufferable Amber could be on party days, as well as the fact that Liv had spent the whole day acting like a pick-me-girl because Chad had been spending much more time on his phone than with her lately.

She'd put her best Casanova act into play when she'd spoken to you earlier, but somehow your sense of humor made her break character and just act like herself, which was something she couldn't remember doing so freely in a long time.

Of course she had appealed for a bit of her charm at the end, but she just couldn't hold back when you had opened up such a perfect opening for her to flirt.

“You should really thank me, you know that?” A familiar voice whispered close to her ear and soon pale arms wrapped around her neck in a grip that bordered on uncomfortable. “I basically handed you your challenge on a platter by letting you invite those weirdos.”

Tara was annoyed by the comment and she quickly disentangled herself from the hug, bumping into Amber and her devilish expression. The shorter girl huffed, fixing her clothes and hair as if that was the real reason she had walked away.

At least this time she didn't turn red. That was progress.

“Shut up. If anything happens, it'll be my merit.” Tara slung her bag over her shoulder, walking along with Amber and the other students to the exit after another tiring Friday of classes.

The taller girl didn't even mind Tara's protests, shaking her head as if she didn't believe the freckled girl’s words. “Anyway, at least you'll be busy while I'm doing someone and won't be bothering me the next day.”

They walked out the door and fortunately Tara could already see Sam's car parked not far away. The girl turned her face in the opposite direction of her friend’s, pretending it was due to the sun and hoping Amber hadn't seen the pained expression on her face. “Whatever. See you later, Freeman.”

“See you later, Carpenter!” Amber shouted back, but Tara didn't turn around to wave goodbye and kept her head down until she reached the old sedan her mother used to drive. At least that was until she was no longer sober enough to hold a steering wheel.

Inside the car, Sam raised her head when she heard the door open and close after Tara got into the passenger seat. She started to back out of the parking lot, occasionally glancing at her younger sister who seemed to be upset beside her. “So... how was school?”

“Don't fucking start.” Tara muttered, putting on her headphones in a quick move to isolate herself from the world and from an older sister who suddenly wanted to be there for her after abandoning her alone with an alcoholic for a year.

She closed her eyes and leaned her head on the window, trying not to think about how Amber really got on her nerves sometimes, or think about the guilt that was starting to rise up inside her after being rude to Sam for nothing. Why couldn't her mind stop working for just one minute?

But as she tried to make her own thoughts go blank, a pleasant memory surfaced. Tara remembered your conversation earlier, the way you could understand each other's moods and how genuinely happy she was that you were going to the party for her.

Maybe, if she just kissed you and hid the real reason behind everything, you could even be friends after all. Maybe she could even convince Amber that you were a nice person, so that you could hang out with them.

Of course, these were only wishful thinking, but Tara wanted peace and, at the moment, the utopian idea of having you around gave her that exact feeling. 

_

“Okay, now give me a spin.”

You turned in your place at Anika's request, being mindful to not to get out of the sight of your phone camera, which was leaning awkwardly on your desk. Your room was a mess of clothes scattered all over the place, highlighting your intense search to decide on the perfect outfit to wear for the party.

“So?” You asked your friend, who had her attention split between the video call and her own elaborate makeup.

Anika seemed to finish her analysis on your look while you were about to start trembling with anxiety. You trusted the girl's fashion sense more than anything and you swore you could have started crying if she said that your outfit wasn't good. Fortunately, her response was a positive nod and a satisfied grin. “Oh, you look so cute!”

You looked down, once again staring at the outfit you had chosen, which was a comfortable one, but neat enough to let people know that you had put some effort into dressing up.

Receiving compliments had never exactly been your strong suit, but as much as you felt awkward about Anika's comment, you couldn't get Tara's recommendation out of your head. “Yeah, but do I look pretty?”

“Of course you do! Cute, pretty, it's all the same!”

You frowned, still feeling annoyed. Fashion had never exactly been your forte and that fact was your Achilles heel at the moment, since you still weren't convinced that “cute” and “pretty” were the same thing. In your opinion, Tara seemed to be the type who liked pretty girls, but not cute girls.

Or maybe it didn't make any sense at all and you were just going crazy at the thought of spending the next few hours in a house full of people you either didn't know or didn't like. Besides, when did you start caring about the kind of girl Tara liked?

“I can hear your thoughts from here, you know?” Anika called out, making your head snap out of that internal cycle of overthinking. “Is this all to impress Tara?”

“Ugh.” You grunted, flopping onto your bed oblivious to the dozens of clothes that were crumpling under your body. “No? Maybe? I don't know.”

You felt ashamed of the situation, even though you knew Anika wasn't the judgmental type. Your feelings were still confusing and you definitely didn't feel ready to admit that you thought about Tara more than you should, but there was also no way to hide something that was so obvious.

“Hey, it's okay, you know? Actually, I'm glad to see you're interested in someone.” Anika replied kindly, which made you work up the courage to sit up, staring at your friend's genuine expression through the screen. “I know you're worried about Mindy and all, but Chad's always nice to me when I go to their house and it was super easy to do some school work with Wes for our calc class.”

She continued, “What I mean is that Tara could still be a nice girl for you, no matter how much there's this Romeo and Juliet thing going on between our groups.”

“It's not that. I mean, it is a bit, but also...” You sighed, trying hard not to run your hands through your hair and make it look messy. “... I don't think she'd be interested in me. I mean, she's been giving me these signals but, I don't know, maybe she does it with everyone?”

Anika tsked, shaking her head and giving you a playful smile. “I've never heard of Tara being a player.”

You groaned again, turning your face away as if the act would somehow stop you from feeling so flustered. Anika laughed in response. “Just enjoy the moment! You already know she's the straight forward type, don't you? If she wants something from you, I'm sure she'll get it.”

“Anika!” You shrieked, appalled by what she was inferring. Your entire face seemed to be engulfed in lava as your friend laughed even louder at the clear shock you expressed.

“What?! The world needs more people like that, you know? That's why I'm going to take the initiative to run away to a corner with Mindy at the first opportunity and-.”

“Ew! No! Stop talking! Please, you're my mother figures!”

_

The walls of the house seemed to shake under Tara's fingers as she leaned on it, making her way to the bathroom in slow, crooked steps as she cursed quietly at the amount of people crowding into the hallway.

They were screaming with joy, slurring the lyrics of the extremely loud song that was playing on the huge speakers in the living room, echoing throughout the house and possibly the entire block. Thank God, Wes had already taken care of his mother.

Tara groaned the whole way, feeling like pushing away all the sweaty, alcohol-altered people who bumped into her shoulder, unable to see properly through the colored lights that made the place look like a nightclub. She sighed in relief when she finally found the bathroom, opening the door and locking herself inside without caring about the noise it made.

She turned on the lights and leaned on the sink with both hands, leaning over to look at her reflection in the mirror, with tired eyes and her bangs sticking to her forehead from sweat. God, how could she have been so shaken up by a measly hour of partying? She used to be able to take a lot more.

But she also knew exactly what had led up to it and the smell of alcohol on her lips wouldn't let her lie. She thought she was going to have more fun, but her evening became much more difficult after she saw Amber stick her tongue down the throats of at least three people right in front of her, making a point of giving Tara a thumbs-up afterwards, almost as if she was trying to annoy her friend on purpose.

Tara tried everything to make herself less bothered. She'd danced, she'd watched some people play 7 minutes in heaven, she'd even flirted with a few people just for fun, but in the end, what had stopped her blood from pounding furiously in her ears had been the beers stocked in Amber's basement fridge.

She stopped after the third one, after she felt tipsy enough. She didn't want to be her mother's daughter, who didn't know her own limits and fell asleep on the living room carpet because she didn't have the strength to walk to her own room. And the drinks helped for a while, but now that the sweat had evaporated the effect of the alcohol on herself, her headache left her one scream or punch away from going insane.

Tara splashed water on her face, oblivious to the fact that her makeup was getting smudged or her bangs got even wetter. At this point, she no longer cared about much other than surviving the rest of the night.

Once she had pulled herself together, she sighed and left the bathroom, expecting to be dragged into the living room by the crowd of teenagers dancing and jumping around like wild animals, but instead she ended up being bumped in the opposite direction, almost knocking her off balance.

“Oh my God, I'm sorry!” Gentle hands rushed to hold Tara up before she fell and she followed the length of the arms with her eyes until she bumped into a familiar face. It was you, who was now staring at Tara with a frown. The girl couldn't help herself and looked you up and down, mentally appreciating the way you were dressed.

You quickly took your hands off Tara's shoulders, rubbing them anxiously. The girl felt a tug in her chest as she remembered that she had invited you and you most likely should have spent all this time looking for her, while she was drinking and whining about not having the attention of the biggest bitch in Woodsboro. Drunk and abandoning people? Wow, the Carpenter women's genes never fail.

“I didn't realize you'd already arrived.” Tara broke the awkward silence, mentally thanking you for being upstairs and being able to talk without having to shout over the hip hop track playing in the living room.

You looked away, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Yeah. It's been a while.”

Tara nodded, feeling a little disappointed in herself as she realized that you had clearly been annoyed by her absence. She tried to strike up a conversation again, wishing she could somehow put a smile on your face. “What brings you upstairs? Not enjoying the energy of the party?”

“I was looking for the bathroom.” You sighed, hugging your elbows. “Actually, I was more looking to escape to the bathroom, because I was planning to hide there until my friends decided to leave.”

“You really don’t like parties, huh?” Tara joked, but the smile on her face hardened when she realized that you hadn't laughed along with her.

Tara felt terrible. Sure, you'd only had a few interactions before, but all of them had proved that you could understand each other easily. Now, Tara didn't know if it was the party, if it was her or something else that had made you look so uncomfortable, but she was determined to make it up to you for being an idiot.

“You know, I think I have a better hiding place than a small bathroom.” She leaned towards you, as if she was sharing a secret. “Are you interested?”

You scrutinized the girl's face and she couldn't help but be disappointed that you didn't even seem to be affected by your proximity as you usually would. Your arms were crossed as you felt suspicious of her offer. “Don't you have to go back to the party?”

Tara made a dismissive gesture with her hand and started walking down the large hallway, looking for a specific room. “Nah, I've been to so many of these that it's lost it’s spark to me.”

Technically, it wasn't a lie. Tara was sick of that party and she'd love to have a distraction from the fact that Amber was now probably at her body count number 100 and Tara wasn't talking about dead people. But then again, she felt strangely committed to making you have at least a little fun and she really liked your company.

Maybe it was just because she felt bad for having invited you in the first place. Yeah, that must be it.

She opened Amber's bedroom door, barging in without hesitation and heading straight for the window, opening it all the way. Behind her, you seemed slightly alarmed by the idea of simply invading the personal space of a girl who could make your life a living hell. “Uh…”

But before you could really protest, Tara put one leg out of the window, glancing in your direction with a playful smile. “Trust me. You’re not scared, are you?”

“I’m not scared, but trusting you? After you invited me to a party you’re trying to escape?” you replied, making Tara's smile widen as she realized you were starting to open up again. “And what are you doing at the window, Rapunzel?”

Tara chuckled, pointing your way. “Wait and see.”

In a swift motion, she raised her hands to the roof platform above her head, pushing off Amber's window with her feet to gain enough momentum to pull herself up with extra effort from her arms. Still holding onto the edge, Tara hung upside down, looking at you through the window with her bangs sticking up. “So, are you coming or not?”

You snorted lightly with the sight, shaking your head as you approached the window. “I’m no Spider-Man. If I fall from here, it’ll be your fault, and I hope they write it down as homicide.”

“Good to know you have so much faith in me.” Tara answered, kneeling on the roof tiles and extending her hand for you to grab. You hesitated for a few seconds, and honestly, Tara couldn’t blame you for it, but she kept looking at you expectantly, trying to communicate with her eyes. Let me make things right with you.

She almost sighed in relief when you finally grabbed her forearm, letting her help you up slowly, pretending not to notice how her hands ended up on your hips. All in the name of making your night a little less boring, of course.

But wow, your body felt... warm.

It didn’t take long for you to pull away from Tara, clearing your throat and sitting on the roof beside her. It would be hard to stand for long due to the slope, but the spot was comfortable enough for you to sit or lie down without the risk of rolling off.

The roof was quite high, not tall enough for you to see the entire city, for example, but high enough that the people below you looked like tiny ants. Ants that were dancing, having fun, and throwing cups of beer at each other.

“Do you come here often?” you broke the silence, but Tara saw the exact moment you winced, realizing way too late the double meaning of your words. “I didn’t mean… I wasn’t…”

“It’s all good.” Tara laughed, considering saying something to tease you even more, but she ultimately decided against it , feeling a bit sorry for your embarrassed state. “And no, to answer your question. I used to spend a lot more time up here before, but now…”

She let the sentence trail off, lost in her own thoughts. Maybe the last time she had been on that roof was the day Sam had gone to rehab, two years ago. Which, looking back now, was probably around the same time Amber stopped being a caring friend and started being the friend that thought Tara complained too much.

The two of you remained in a comfortable silence for a few more seconds—or as quiet as it could be with two massive speakers blasting music two floors below. Tara glanced to the side, staring at your face, which seemed more focused on the starry sky, illuminated only by a few beams of moonlight.

Like she had felt in the car earlier, that sight gave her peace. It wasn’t like looking at Amber, which made her feel like her organs were being squeezed and thrown into an erupting volcano. Looking at you made her feel like a sea breeze was brushing against her face, a comforting, peaceful gust of wind.

Tara’s eyes drifted down to your lips, and she had to run her tongue across her own. Amber’s challenge lingered in the back of her mind, and she was tempted to test if your kiss would be a better distraction than the cheap beer she’d grabbed from the basement.

But suddenly, Tara felt self-conscious. Maybe it was the fact that the idea had been Amber’s, and she was still too annoyed with the girl to give her the satisfaction of being right. Maybe it was because she could still taste the alcohol in her mouth and didn’t want you to taste it too.

Or maybe it was something else. Something gentler and softer that even Tara couldn’t quite describe yet.

“Oh, look!” Tara snapped out of her own thoughts when she saw you excitedly pointing at the sky. “You can see Orion so clearly!”

She followed the direction of your hand with her eyes, feeling confused about what exactly she was supposed to be looking at. That particular night was cloudless, which made the vast array of stars shining in the dark sky exceptionally beautiful.

You noticed the lost expression on the girl’s face beside you and chuckled. “Orion? The constellation?”

“Oh, yeah. I… I know.” Tara just nodded, feeling a bit embarrassed for not being sure what you were referring to. She knew what a constellation was, of course, but she had never studied them in much detail, and in her eyes, all she could see in the sky were random stars, beautiful but completely scattered.

You laughed again, not buying Tara’s excuse for a second after seeing how confused her eyes looked. Gently, your hand held hers as you started pointing out the constellation with both of your hands joined together.

“See those three stars close together? That’s what we call Orion’s belt. It’s much easier to spot the rest of the constellation starting from there. Up there, kind of making a triangle, you have Meissa, Betelgeuse, and Bellatrix, and if you look to the side, it kinda looks like he’s holding a bow.”

Tara wanted to pay attention to your explanation, but her brain turned to mush the moment your hands got entangled, and her heart started pounding like the drums in a heavy metal song. You, on the other hand, seemed completely unaware of the action, which made Tara feel even more like an idiot.

Wow, what was in those drinks?

“You really know a lot about this,” she said, trying to sound normal, even though her voice felt like it could crack at any moment. You smiled at the comment, letting go of her hand to play with your fingers in your lap.

“One day, I had this brilliant idea to paint constellations on my bedroom ceiling—or at least most of them—and I had to do a ton of research to make sure it looked right.” You laughed, and Tara realized she wanted to hear that sound more and more.

“It’s cool that you’re a painter. It’s different.” She wanted to keep the conversation going, eager to learn more about any detail you were willing to offer, but she didn’t exactly know what to say. For someone who usually had no trouble expressing herself, Tara seemed to have forgotten her entire vocabulary.

Luckily, you seemed to be in the opposite situation, feeling comfortable enough to keep talking. “I guess so? I’ve never thought much about it before. Painting is a lot more than just a hobby for me—it’s more like a safe haven, you know?”

Tara nodded instead of giving a verbal response, especially because she knew exactly what you were talking about, but she didn’t have the words to express how much she needed a conversation like this—so simple, yet so healing.

She reached into the pocket of her jacket, slowly pulling out her phone. “Can I take a picture of the constellation?” Tara asked, mentally kicking herself when she heard how vulnerable her voice sounded.

Her tone didn’t go unnoticed by you, and you looked at her with a bit of confusion, but soon after, your eyes softened, shining with kindness—almost as bright as the stars above your heads. “You don’t have to ask me to take pictures of the sky, but do you want me to point it out again?”

“Sorry, old habit.” She shook her head to snap out of it, feeling her cheeks heating up as she started opening the camera app and aiming it upward. “But yeah, please.”

Slowly and gently, you took Tara’s hands again, working together with her to make sure the constellation was perfectly centered. You were close enough for Tara to catch the pleasant scent of your perfume, but she forced herself to stay focused on the picture you two were trying to capture.

After a few successful shots of Orion (which Tara planned to edit later to make it more visible and color-corrected), the two of you lay down side by side, admiring the night’s beauty in another moment of shared, comfortable silence.

_

Now, the silence inside Sam’s car wasn’t as comfortable.

It was the first time Tara had asked Sam to pick her up from a party, especially as late as 2 AM, considering the younger Carpenter always used to sleep over at Amber’s once everything wrapped up.

But after you left, Tara completely lost the desire to stay. The music was dull, she had no interest in drinking or playing any games, and she definitely didn’t want to be around her friends anymore.

She sat in a thoughtful silence, her head resting against the window, watching as the asphalt disappeared behind the car doors. The soft hum of the engine served as background noise since Tara didn’t have her precious headphones, but she’d spent enough time around loud music for the night anyway, so her ears were begging for a break.

“Did you… have fun?” Sam asked cautiously, as if Tara were a wounded animal that might lash out at any moment. The younger girl sighed, feeling guilty for being the reason behind the hostile distance between them.

She already felt guilty about enough things. Maybe it was time to start lifting some of that weight off her shoulders.

“I guess I did.” She nodded, watching Sam’s surprised expression at her genuine response. The look made her seem younger, reminding Tara that Sam wasn’t that much older than her. Now that she thought about it, she couldn’t remember seeing Sam so carefree since she’d returned, but her anger hadn’t exactly allowed her to notice the little details. “I had a good time.”

“Good,” Sam replied, trying to hide a satisfied smile from tugging at the corner of her lips. In the passenger seat, Tara did the same, feeling a tiny bit of happiness from the small progress they’d made. Small steps were important.

The car fell silent again, but it felt less heavy, and Tara figured it was because Sam was tired and still had to focus on the road for at least another 10 minutes. Taking advantage of the pause, the younger Carpenter pulled her phone out of her jacket pocket, going straight to her gallery and searching for the pictures she had taken earlier.

Most of them were of the sky, capturing the fateful (and now familiar to Tara) constellation of Orion, which made her think of the feeling of your hands on hers. Two others, however, were a bit more personal for her.

She zoomed in on the photo, staring at the profile of your face bathed in moonlight as you smiled brighter than the stars. She had taken the picture in secret, an impulsive urge to capture not just the moment, but you. Tomorrow, she could blame it on the alcohol, but tonight, she would give herself the privilege of gazing at your carefree expression for a few long seconds.

You had probably spent hours talking on the roof, and yet it still didn’t feel like enough. Tara wanted more. She needed more. Even though she’d never considered herself to be possessive or clingy, she couldn’t help but want to explore every little piece of your world as if it were the most beautiful piece of art.

A sudden thought crossed her mind, and Tara quickly opened Instagram, this time taking her time to scroll through and really appreciate each of your paintings. As she studied the pieces you had displayed, she mentally kicked herself for not having done it sooner. It was clear that you drew inspiration from the Renaissance, and that people were your greatest muse. There were few self-portraits, but Tara recognized some of your friends in the works.

She was so captivated that she felt a strong urge to knock on your door and ask you to tell her the story behind each one, just for the pleasure of hearing your voice. But, well, it was 2 AM, and she didn’t even know where you lived.

And, of course, she wasn’t that crazy.

Still, she decided to slide into your DMs, sending you five of the photos you had taken of the sky, taking the opportunity to wish you a good night. Would sending a heart emoji be too much? She decided against it. The photos would be enough.

But Tara still wasn’t satisfied with her exploration, so she ventured into your stories, looking for anything that could give her more reasons to talk to you. It turned out to be a great decision, because she struck gold.

You had posted an announcement from Woodsboro Central Hospital earlier, calling for volunteers for a special event dedicated to bringing joy to children hospitalized with cancer. The flyer said that any help was welcome, from telling stories to dressing up as superheroes, and Tara couldn’t stop wondering what you had signed up to do.

Without wasting any time, she navigated to the hospital’s profile, hoping they were still accepting applications even though she was texting them literally seven hours before the event.

Hi, I’m interested in volunteering! Would you need a photographer?

[prize-pig-collection]

5:27

The doorbell rings, and startles you awake. You passed out on the living room couch again, after your feeder filled you with enough blueberry pie and vanilla ice cream that making it all the way to bed just wasn’t gonna happen.

You look down as best as you can, and see the edge of your third chin, and your chest covered in pie crumbs. You spot a smear of blueberry filling, and instinctively scoop in into your mouth.

Speaking of instincts, you know that it must be the first food delivery of many. Your feeder has to make sure you stay busy while they’re away at work. You’re not even sure where it’s from, your feeder’s taken care of it. But you’ve been known to dutifully gobble it up, no matter what.

You’re still feeling a little full from last night, but knowing that there’s food to be eaten kicks your appetite into high gear. You yawn loudly—it’s probably not even noon yet, so early!—and a few drops of drool escape your lips. It’d be embarrassing if you could think of anything besides how hungry you are.

Time to get up off the couch. You start by scooting forward, and spreading your legs a bit, so that your belly hangs over the side. Then you start rocking back and forth to give yourself some momentum, and push yourself to your feet. You’re a little unsteady. Of course, you spend most of your time in bed or on the couch, so you’re a little out of practice. But on top of that, with how much you’ve been eating, it feels like there’s more weight to adjust to every time you manage to stand up. You can’t be growing that fast, though, can you?

Back to the task at hand: getting to the door. The cascade of rolls on your legs means they’re rubbing against each other as you move. It’s hard to tell because you obviously can’t see down there… but are they rubbing all the way to your knees? That’s new.

Your gut feels like it must be hanging lower than you remembered, too. Again, not because you can see it, but because you can feel it, slapping against your thighs as you shuffle along. You hope the delivery driver will be long gone by the time you make it to the door; even though it’s obvious how massive you are, you don’t want them to see your belly hanging out of a stained, stretched-out 6X t-shirt.

The pillows of lard you call hips are bouncing wildly with every move. No surprise, as lately you’ve felt as if you’re a little bit higher up on the couch. It’s sinking more every day, but you’re piling on more blubber to make up for it and then some.

Your chest must not want your hips to feel alone, because it’s jiggling just as much, if not more. It’s hard to tell the difference between your chest and your side rolls these days. It’s basically just one big mass of flesh, currently smacking up against your hanging arm rolls.

All this movement is taking its toll on you. You feel the way you used to when you had to get up a flight of stairs, except now there’s no elevation to blame for how unfit you’ve become. You’re dripping with sweat all over; wheezing uncontrollably; your heart feels like it’s about to burst through your chest; even your vision is slowing fading in and out at the edges. The clearest sign yet that this 30-foot walk is pushing you to your absolute limit.

Even the floor underneath you seems to be struggling. I guess it wasn’t built by someone who could imagine one of its occupants would be so big. That’s weird, though, you’re fat, but not that fat, right??

Slowly but surely, you make your way to the door. As much of a struggle as this is, you’d do anything to get more food down your throat.

You half-jokingly consider opening the door by leaning your considerable weight against it, and tearing it off the hinges, but you collect yourself. You’d squish all the food under the door, and you can’t have that. With your last bit of strength, you pull the door open.

As you recover from your arduous journey, you start to piece together the scene on the other side of the door. Yes, there’s six bags of your favorite fast food, but not on the ground. They’re in the hands of… your feeder?

“5 minutes and 27 seconds, piggy. God, you’ve really let yourself go,” they say with a knowing smile.

You’re not in the mood. “Hungry…” you plead.

“Oh I know. You’re always hungry! That’s what makes you such a good pig.”

“Don’t…wanna…” you pause to catch your breath. A full sentence is just too much work in your condition.

“You don’t want to what? Eat? I really doubt that.”

“Move…ever…again. Too… much… work.”

“I had a feeling today might be the day, that’s why I’m here! Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything. Whatever my piggy wants, that’s what they get. Let’s get you back inside, second breakfast is already on its way. You better eat this all quick!”

Luckily for you, that’s the one thing you’re still very, very good at…

[idvlover]

Hi! Can I have hcs with Naib, Luca and Wu Chang with a fragile s/o, like they want to become stronger but they need some help and lot of time.

Also I can send you some pictures of my shrimps (yes I have a aquarium with shrimps) if you want!!! (I don't know if shrimps are considered as pet).

I'm so sorry this took so long 😭

Naib, Wu Chang, and Luca with a fragile s/o who wants to be stronger:

Wu Chang:

Xie has always been trying to be careful with s/o during matches. Knowing that they aren't the strongest survivor, but they aren't the weakest either. Xie basically has a soft spot for them

Fan, on the other hand. Does not go easy on them like Xie does, but if his s/o really needs the break. He'll let them take a breather and change target

S/o was getting tired of struggling in so many matches, losing constantly, rinse, and repeat. Even if the match was a win, s/o was already back at the manor

So they went up to their lovers one day and asked for a custom match. Just the three of them

The two were confused but accepted

It was lost after loss again, and s/o was growing increasingly frustrated

Fan was actually the first one to put a halt to everything. Seeing that they were getting upset.

"Alright, something is the matter."

"I just wanted practice.."

"Practice until your knees break?"

When s/o explained everything, it made a lot of sense now

The two agreed to help them, but they help them through training methods and not just out right letting them wing it

Fan and Xie go outside of their abilities to give s/o harder courses. Which scared the shit out of them because the last thing they expected is for the two to full on SPRINT and also pull off some flexible moves

The worst one yet is when Fan was on the ceiling waiting for s/o to come through. He did that because he thought it was funny

When they get back out into the actual matches. S/o is doing much better than before

But when they enter duo's. It's a bit of a different story. Xie and Fan did teach them about getting through duo's by treating each other as different hunters than one. The only problem is that hunters like to target s/o for easy pickings and won't let up no matter what

Fan decided he wanted to be fully present in those matches rather than switch out. Not because he doesn't think s/o can't handle it, but he does not trust the other hunter to keep their cool when they realize s/o is not an easy grab anymore

There have been a few times when Fan had to fight a hunter. Those days are actually when he lets everyone win for the sake of not letting the hunter have satisfaction

Xie is very proud of s/o, though that some times he needed to be reminded that he needed to chair them, not let them kite him the entire match

Luca:

The strongest out of some of the decoders, considering his vaulting speed and pallet throws aren't slow. Average, but not slow either

He normally prefers to coordinate the match to help s/o stay in longer, such as carefully picking ciphers that aren't close to the hunter

This annoyed survivors some, but he didn't care honestly. With how some of them treat his s/o, he may or may not have led hunters to them and force them to take over kiting

His s/o asked him for help one day and told him that they wanted to learn how to kite better in matches. At first, he tried to direct them towards someone like Norton, Melly, or even Margie, or Patricia

Then they told him why they're asking him. He's fairly good at multi-tasking and knows all the best ways to lose a hunter when he is found first.

So, he begins helping them in custom matches with a hunter he trusts

It was really rough at first to the point that even the hunter was like: "Uh, I think they need a break. Like now."

Luca is trying to think of ways to teach them better because maybe the hunter isn't the best idea. So HE decides to pretend to be the hunter

He says shit like: "C'MERE PRETTY BOY/GIRL/DARLING!" While chasing them. He's also always yelling outta pocket shit

Yet this actually helped s/o improve significantly

So when Luca brings the hunter back, s/o is actually doing pretty well! Sure, they got captured once or twice, but they did really good!

Now, when the two go back in real matches. Luca tells them that if they need someone to take over, he won't mind kitting. They reassure him they'll be fine.

Boy, was everyone amazed with how well s/o was doing. All those months of practicing paid off. This made other survivors relieved as this means Luca won't lead the hunters to them anymore when he's mad at them

Naib:

Naib protects his s/o in matchs... CONSTANTLY. One of the reasons why s/o even makes it through a match

He's always next to them, working a cipher, taking over kites for them, taking hits for them, and will not hesitate to drag/carry their ass across the map to an open gate

Then his s/o asked him while they were getting ready to sleep one night if he could train them to do better in matches. He questioned them about it, and they gave a simple answer of wanting to be self-reliant when he's not in matches with them.

Which he finds understandable. So he agrees to it

And yes, he did use training military techniques on them. He was nicer about it, though... Unlike his trainers

He would also train with them. He wanted them to build up their lower and upper body strength before he had a hunter chase them

Naib is very encouraging about it. If they're starting to tire out, he'll encourage them to do two more then take a break

He also had them spare with him. They were super wobbly and unbalanced about it. He would give them tips on what to do and what not to do

He didn't exactly go easy on them when they were sparing, but he wasn't brutal. He will immediately stop if his s/o tells him to or if it's clear they are getting overwhelmed

When he finally let's them do a custom match. He is watching that hunter like a hawk. Doesn't matter how will known the hunter is known for friendliness he is making sure they don't fuck his s/o over

He coached them through those custom matches for months.

He may have probably trained them too well for any hunters liking because once they were back on the real matches, so many hunters would get frustrated and change target

Naib would praise them when he sees them at some point in the match

But, Naib still wants to decode next to them. Old habits die hard

He's still going to be protective no matter what. He adores his s/o too much. This also means he might watch them kite rather than decode

Helena literally dragged him away by the arm, telling him he needed to decode before crows appeared

[jodiellie]

Week 1 Evaluation

It's been a week since I've started this journey, so let's reflect on how the first week has been!

First of all, let's have a refresher on what my GOALS for this 30 days initially is~

Fixing my sleep schedule

Incorporate more physical activities (doesn't have to be exercising, can be stretches or walks!)

Drawing more often for practice

Sleep:

I'd say sleep wise, I'm slowly getting better at it. Though, there are moments where I couldn't get myself to sleep and ended up getting worse. But in general, I think I've made good progress than before I started on this journey, so good job me! ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

Physical activities:

I'm pretty proud of my progress for this! So far, I've managed to do something everyday for the past week to get my body moving! Whether it be actually following along exercising videos on Youtube or some stretching to ease some tension on muscles! Again, good job to myself uwu

Drawing:

Now this. I did NOT meet this goal at all during this entire week, which is a shame. I think I was focusing a lot on taking better care of my own body that the thought of taking care of my skill set kinda slipped my mind? Which, to be fair, is kind of expected since even trying to remind myself to do certain basic self care task is difficult in itself. So, it's okay, we'll just have to do better during the following week~

Extras:

Other extra stuff for my health that I think would I've done well is also finally taking my meds and vitamins. Though it's not consistent yet, I'm glad I finally was able to take them more than I was before. This goes for my water intake as well! Sometimes I would go on days without drinking any water at all, which is quite bad... But now that I'm trying to actively record down my days and what I've done to better my body, it serves as a reminder in itself to drink more water, so yayyy another great job done for me °ʚ(´꒳`)ɞ°

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Things I need to improve/add for the following week:

After a week into this journey, I think I'd like to adjust some of my goals and be a little more specific in what I want to achieve for hopefully the next week! This will help me be a little clearer with what I need to do and help myself feel good in the future >:)

Try to sleep 30 mins earlier than the last, but the latest time for me to go to bed would be 3am. I have been doing quite okay with only a few slips here and there on this. So hopefully by the end of the next week, I can somehow sleep around 12am instead.

Still moving my body every single day, but let's try to exercise 3 times this week for at least 30 minutes! It's been a long time since I've exercised that I forgot how good I always feel afterwards both physically and mentally. So yes, I'd like to challenge myself to actually do some exercise more often! ( *` • ω •´)ゝ

Since I have 0 progress on my drawing, I want to start slow and easy myself into it. Since it feels daunting (for some reason), let's try achieving at least 30 minutes per day for 3 days of art practice. Can be anything, like anatomy, color study, or even just my own personal art. As long as it reaches the goal I set, then it's good :>

[legendofzoodles]

The Chain’s Morning Routines

Time is one of the first up, and the first part of his routine is to get everyone up and brief them on today’s agenda, map out, route planned with monster camp predictions. Then he’ll delegate tasks to each hero, taking into account preferences like Four liking to collect water and Wild preferring to cook and varying them so that Sky and Warriors aren’t always stuck cleaning the bowls. Only when everything’s running smoothly does Time focus on himself, though he only ever has breathing room for the basics. 

Warriors is used to not doing much in the morning in terms of menial basics. Since becoming Captain he’s had people make sure his clothes and armour are washed and ready, breakfast is brought to him and the fireplace is just in that wall wood carefully arranged. For a while now he’s been managing others, sorting out schedules and maintenance checks, and having ample time for himself to prep for the public eye. But now with Time managing the lot and no one to pick up after him it’s like he’s been thrust back into his trainee days. Which means early sword practice and sparring with any willing partner, washing and clearing up with a trained soldier’s efficiency and sneakily trading chores to get out of doing the ones he hates. It’s refreshing.

Twilight is up just before the sun and is consistently the single most productive person in any era he's in, by virtue of the inhuman amount of stuff done in the morning. Up until the sun’s fully established itself in the sky Twilight carries the team. 

He’s more lenient than Warriors and Time, letting the younger members sleep while he does their chores- though he’ll make an effort to make noise around Sky to ready him for Wild’s explosive wake up call. He’ll keep busy until everything’s done without really taking any special time for himself, though if Legend and Sky are dueting he’ll be in earshot, slowing down to listen and hum along. Hasn’t quite gotten round to asking them to teach him, not wanting to admit he’d like to learn an instrument. 

But Sky? He's even more productive. Rising at 3:30am to immediately get on the grind. He doesn't have time to wash-up, so he kills four birds with one stone by swimming laps in the nearest lake (yes, he will hike however far until he finds one), simultaneously: exercising every muscle, bathing, brushing his teeth by gurgling sandy water and drinking his daily required 2 litres of water. He doesn't have time for to make breakfast, so he munches on whatever edible looking plants he finds around camp. And he doesn’t have time to dress so he simply never takes off his adventure gear.  

...maybe in a parallel universe, but not here. Sky goes through the basic morning ritual: washup, eat and dress in a drained zombie mode that can sometimes last until mid afternoon.

The Chain has learned not to talk to Legend until he’s had his hot brown morning potion. For all his experience and adventuring, he’s actually not really a morning person. Rarely does he wake up on the right side of the bed roll and thus compensates with potions and items to help with a boost of energy to get him up and moving. He’s got a pretty good morning routine, between getting his chores done he manages to practice a little self care, magical meditations with Hyrule or picking at the Harp of Ages dueting with Sky. If, for whatever reason, he runs out, he is a heinous jerk for the first leg of the day. He’ll get stuff done of course, but he’ll make his bad mood everyone’s problem. 

Wild wakes up at “How the fuck am I still alive?" o’clock but at least waits a few hours before tempting fate, being surprisingly mellow in the morning. He likes to be left alone though. The others don’t help him with breakfast because it’s the on meal he likes to prepare by himself, taking his time to really relish being in nature and just kind of reflect. Aside from that he’ll let the others clean up after breakfast, (maybe chip in here or there) to steal away and do whatever he feels like: forage ingredients for lunch, dinner and elixirs, pamper Epona under Twilight’s watchful eye or maybe practice knot tying hidden in a tree. Lack of energy in the morning brings out Wild’s introvert side. 

Ever since the beginning of the adventure Four has come across so many different languages. From subtle differences in each era’s Hylian to languages he never knew existed, Four’s been in awe. As such part of his routine now is to dedicate at least an hour to learning a new language; he’ll conversate with Twilight in Gerudo as they go for a morning walk, trade basic sentences in Rito with Wind while collecting water or learn Korkiri vocabulary from Time during breakfast. Warriors has been trying to become trilingual, knowing it’ll be a massive advantage in negotiations and politics, which makes him a reliable study partner. Four’s doing it partly for business, it’ll help him expand and communicate better with customers, but it’s also for fun. 

Hyrule unwittingly shakes up his routine every day by doing things in a different order every morning. Sometimes he’ll wake up (almost always at the exact same time on his own without any kind of alarm, which freaks out Sky) and decide he wants to clear away his bed roll first, exercise first, craft a couple potions first or brush his hair first. Once, when he got out of bed he immediately went to sit on a log for half an hour, bed hair and all, waiting for Wild to finish breakfast. No one disturbed him, and he didn’t even take the chance to have a lie in, he just kind of sat there, staring at nothing. 

Wind as a kid would wake up early with his sister and play either inside or mostly outside until Grandma wakes up and it’s time for breakfast. But now that he’s in his early teens he’s entering that phase where he’d prefer to be left alone to sleep, and is one of the last to get up in the morning. He’ll wrap himself in Warriors’ cap letting himself get dragged around to do his chores. That said he’ll perk up quite quickly after eating: join the knights for some light sword practice, try learning magic from Hyrule, pester Legend to let him borrow another new item for the day and much more. Once up and about he’ll always have something to do with at least one other person. 

~~~

Thanks for reading!

Wild’s was the hardest to write, couldn’t quite decide on what I wanted him to be like. I kinda relate to Sky and Hyrule here. 

Masterlist

I’m trying to keep my headcanons consistent:

Parkour team

Honorary Gorons

How each member of the chain laughs

How the chain solves dungeon puzzles

The Chain as procrastinators

Flora is Feral

The Chain’s time management skills

[crimsonlyinglilly]

No. 8: SLEEP DEPRIVATION

Isolation Chamber | Forced to Stay Awake | "Leave the lights on." (Coldplay, Midnight)

Here's Day 8 of @whumptober 2024, also Whumptober Alt Prompts- Secrets Revealed/Regret

Inner Child- the oldest Mikaelson brothers prove why they're the worst team as things go badly before they even leave the bedroom.

follows on from Under the skin

----

Finn knows the moment the ‘itching under Elijah’s skin’ fades because his brother releases him and sits up all stiff posture as the return to their relative normal made any difference from any of this.

Mother had made Elijah unable to disobey Finn’s words, made keeping their distance from one another, as Finn’s short lived plan had been, impossible thank to the proximity enchantment, leaving Elijah is at the very least discomfort, but far more likely agony to drive Elijah to give in his stubbornness so quickly.

There was the possibility of him ordering Elijah away under the pretence of a task but it was far more likely that wouldn’t work, the enchantment would forced Elijah to complete the tasks quickly and have him return and ignoring his own discomfort of that, the empty eyed doll mother had show them, Klaus would not take that at all well.

So Mother had made Elijah into her puppet, a tool to manipulate the others and now Finn was left to clear or at least manage the mess she had made, while they still had Dahlia to deal with, something he still had find a way to explain and convince his siblings to deal with as the child was still alive and removing her was no longer on the table.

Briefly he thinks about ordering Elijah to deal with the child but he smothered the idea with horror, he wasn’t the monster Mother made them, Elijah would never forgive himself even if it wasn’t truly his fault and Finn wished to deal with Dahlia to get a chance to live.

Niklaus would no doubt make his death slow if he had a hand in the child's death, slower if he used Elijah.

Killing her Finn has to accept would be if mother had smothered Freya in her cradle and Finn would rather die and lose his few memories with his sister.

His first goal would be to find some way to lessen what mother had done. He was stuck working with them, the last thing he wanted was Klaus at his throat for every slip up or to say a poorly worded phase on his part and turn to see the empty doll mother had made of Elijah. 

“Elijah.” he called to get his attention as Elijah had started to fiddle with his clothes, uselessly as the state of them left it clear they were well past presentability, ceased, blood stained and torn at the edges.

An apt metaphor for their siblings currently.

“Can you let me into you mind?”

“Why?” he asked, eye narrowed with suspicion, Finn took a breath to remind himself Elijah was allowed it. He had had everything taken from him, they still had no idea how long mother had him after he had asked to be daggered.

“To see what effects mother’s spell had left, perhaps we can find a way to add to your mental shield, to give you more control against any accidental orders.” he explained, besides Elijah’s shield were impressive if they could find out how the spell got past them they would have a better idea of how to undo it.

“And those on purpose?” Elijah raised a brow at him.

“Elijah.” he sighed, “I didn’t want this, trust me.”

“It's not like I have a choice.” Elijah muttered after a moment before shifting to kneel in front of him 

“I am asking.” he reminded him.

“Fine.” Elijah conceded with a nod before placing two of his fingers to Finn’s temple.

He opened his eyes to a white hallway, he was familiar with Elijah’s mind, from waking in Mystic fall when Elijah had shared with him the basics of modern life, to spare him wasting his time re-learning everything.

It had spoken of Elijah’s talent to be able to do so without looking into Finn's mind at all, so he had never questioned why Finn already had a grasp of modern English, thanks to Klaus’ many rants to their coffins. The modern French, Spanish and Italian Elijah had placed in his mind could have been showing off but to Elijah it would have seemed necessary, especially given his plan of them travelling the world without Niklaus.

Finn refused to wonder what would have happened if mother hadn’t returned that night.

It quickly became clear the biggest difference was the complete absence of any doors; a few had the remains of them, broken pieces of wood hanging off swinging hinges.

White, pristine and utterly open.

It took him a moment to bring his open mental shield up to prevent himself being overwhelmed by centuries of Elijah’s memories and emotions. There was nothing to stop him from tearing through it all, forcing Elijah to relive his worst moments, finding his deepest secrets.

It was exactly what mother had wanted when she tortured him, like this it would have been so easy to push him to accept a new body. 

Finn could likely strip those memories Elijah held closest to his being, if he wanted with enough time and remade him anew. Suddenly he was relieved mother wanted a puppet to use against the others instead of her using her time with Elijah more creatively.

He reminded himself he was only able to have such access with Elijah’s help but mother could have gained the same by simply asking him, ordering him to let her into his mind where he would be just as powerless as she wiped-

Fear, terror and panic bloomed in his chest, cutting off his thoughts as familiar words carried across his mind.

“Let me out!”

He frown as he recognized it, his nightmare, his living hell alone trapped within the coffin, awake but-

“I’m here. Please!”

Desperate begging that was never heard, but what had cause it and why did it feel so distant like it wasn’t him-

“Brothers! Sister!”

Alone and in the dark as his siblings lived, in the early years clinging their shock visits for just a brief escape from the loneliness their voices brought, before he started to hate them, as those moments just made the isolation that followed worse.

“Let me out!” 

Finn flinched as he recognised Elijah’s voice even if he had never heard it in such as way and realises while it’s familiar but distance, it wasn’t his fear this time, it was Elijah living it because if he had needed to shield himself after Elijah’s mind then there was nothing shielding Elijah from his, the mind he had invited-brought into his mind. 

Centuries of being helpless and paralysed as the world moved on without outside the dark of his eyelids and the wood he was there but had never seen.

He should have questioned where Elijah was the moment he opened his eyes.

“I’m here, pl-”

“WAKE US UP NOW.” he ordered.

He opened his eyes to find them back on the bed in Elijah’s room, Elijah fingers were quickly pulled from him with a gasp.

“You have no mental shields.” He muttered faintly to himself, it was impressive given how strong Elijah’s shields had been, but then Mother had made Elijah himself the trigger of this mess, if he hadn’t shattered his younger self’s heart, it was likely they would have remained intact.

Still was it that bad because mother’s spell laid him open to her and Finn in particular or was it anyone. If it was at least just Finn and mother then once mother died it would be only one person Elijah was defenceless to.

As if being forced to obey them wasn’t bad enough, part of Finn was starting to wonder if this wasn’t just because of her longing for the innocent Elijah once was, but out of spite, to punish him for forcing her to go this far.

“You were awake.” Elijah’s horror forced him to look up from his musing, as the words were barely more than a whisper reminding him of the other issue he was trying not to delve on. “Alone, trapped, forced to be awake, all that time - if I-”

“-Had known, you would have freed me.” he finished disbelief clear.

“I’m sorry-“ Elijah apologised looking at him with wide eyes

“You’re only apologising because you felt it now,” he accused.

“No.” Elijah said, shaking his head, “you weren’t meant to be awake, if we knew we wouldn’t have left it.” Elijah reached out for his cuff sleeve as if that would make his words more credible.

“But you were fine before,” he replied, with an almost cafeless shug if not for the venom in his words “didn't care that I lost nine centuries of my life, alone in the dark.“

Elijah flinched curling inwards, likely at the fresh reminder of what he had just experienced, gutting Finn's anger, even as Elijah looked back at him trying to hide his reaction. He shouldn’t let his anger out of Elijah no matter how justified when he had helped mother strip him of most of his defences. 

And yet, the biting harsh words escaped him anyway,

“You mean it wasn’t easier to claim the role of oldest without me there?” he asked sardonically

“You were barely an older brother when you were there.” Elijah bit back, 

Finn pulled his sleeve from Elijah's grasp and kicked out, sending Elijah off balance and off the bed. He stood up from the bed and took a step back as Elijah sat up and glared at him from the other side of the bed.

“Why? Why did you leave me there, forgotten?” he demanded

“I never forgot you,” Elijah stood annoyingly gracefully as he raised himself up, “any of you, while you were in there I spent the last fifty years planning to kill Niklaus to avenge you.”

“Avenge?” he raised a brow

“He said he had thrown you all into the ocean, I had countless witches, search and found nothing.” Elijah explained, which finally answered why Finn hadn’t heard Elijah’s voice in the dark for so long until they were all undaggered in Mystic Falls, just Klaus and his complains of Elijah ‘getting close’ and ‘couldn’t he just give up’ 

“So that was the last fifty years, what about nine hundred years ago?”

Elijah’s lips thinned as he looked away, shoulders stiff.

“Tell me Elijah.” He ordered, ignoring the flash of guilt as Elijah shuddered for a moment before his body relaxed as he spoke, tone flat and empty.

“You were a comfort to Niklaus during the hunter's curse,” Elijah repeated the words he had said at the breakfast table, which felt so long ago now, “he was so paranoid and angry, expecting us to leave him every time. Kol fled to find a witch to break it, Rebekah was mourning her hunter and Niklaus blamed her.”

“How long was he cursed?” Finn asked

“52 years, 4 months, and 9 days.” Elijah recited.

“So why didn’t you undagger me then?”

“Niklaus-” Elijah started but Finn cut him off, noticing the twitch Elijah polite expression.

“Elijah, I want to know why you left me alone in that hell?”

“It was easier.” The words came out slowly as Finn watched Elijah break out of the almost trace his first demand had forced Elijah into.

“Easier?” he snapped,  “Why was I being out of the way easier for you if it wasn’t for your want of-”

“I was tired of your judging us,” Elijah spat the flat mild tone vanishing, “me for failing to control them, Klaus was worse after the curse, it broke something in him, Rebekah was angrier after her hunter’s betrayal,and Kol was mad he had been useless that there was a threat to us even his knowledge of magic couldn’t help.” Elijah paused for a moment clearly trying to think of what he needed to say to end the questions, “Finn, I wanted to undagger you, I wanted help protecting our family but we were never your first priority and I couldn't split my attention to watch over you self loathing everytime Sage wandered away.”

“So it was out of concern for me.” He snorted, as he realised Elijah hadn’t shaken the command and had managed to retaken some of his control by going along with it, “Don’t lie.” he added because he knew his brother if anyone found a loophole it would be Elijah.

“I’m not,” Elijah hissed, “you wanted the truth so I can't.” Elijah snapped harshly but Finn noticed something else appearing in his expression “You snide comments were little help when they only encouraged Kol to do worst and-” Elijah eyes widened as his hand flew to his mouth, making Finn realise it was panic that he had noticed “Finn stop this-” he pleaded making Finn freeze as he finally spotted the gathering wetness his his brother’s eyes, “I- I can’t- I even after so long I wanted my big brother, i-”

“Stop.” he ordered a moment too late leaving them both in a thick silence, Elijah glared at him as he stared back, he refused to give in, he had a right to his anger. The stiff way Elijah moved the hands he had tried to stifle himself to wipe his eyes made it very clear he had gone too far. “You can speak.” he added after several minutes when ELijah did nothing but glare.

“Our parents were terrible both, failed us in a numerous way, but you-”

“I was a child.”

“AS WAS I.” Elijah yelled, making them both jump slightly iat the volume before Elijah took a deep breath “after we were made into this, after mother death and we ran, I had hope.”

“Hope?” he asked, made into monsters fleeing from another what could Elijah have hope in that case he wondered.

“That without them, when it was just us, you could see beyond what you lost and see us.”

“You?” he huffed, “A bunch of glutton with little to no restraint”

“We were trying,” Elijah replied far to close to whining for his brother’s normal state, “that’s more than you ever did.”

“What?”

“You resented us,”Elijah accused, causing Finn to shut his mouth close, “for being born, for not being Freya, for replacing her. News for you brother, we didn’t have a choice in that.” Elijah finished letting the words hang.

The quiet stretched, the air appearing to grow heavier as it did.

“You can go.” he muttered as it got too much for him,  “just go, have a drink or shower, I know part of you needs to get changed.” he added as he noticed Elijah was still wearing the suit from that ‘breakfast’, dagger hole sitting centre of his chest beside those blood stains caused by his own fingers and mother’s blood on his collar. Those on Elijah’s face had dried and flaked off at some point, likely on his own shirt Finn thought disdainfully.

Looking down to find he was right saved him from Elijah’s eyes.

“Finn-”

“I don’t want to talk about this.” he said clearly, glancing up to catch Elijah’s eyes widened before he closed them

“Yes.” Elijah sighed before turning to leave.

Finn waited until Elijah’s footsteps faded before he flopped back onto the bed and picked up a pillow to scream into it.

It was too late for regret now he reminded himself but that did nothing to remove the weight of it.

Why was it always Elijah that managed to reduce him to feeling like a teenager, none of the others ever managed to get him back to snapping like a petulant child, he couldn't’;t even take solace with the fact Elijah had lost his composure as well this time either.  

This was the worst case, Finn hadn’t meant to cause any of that, he should have stopped the moment he realised he first commanded Elijah and yet he hadn’t, some part of him liked having the control.

Elijah had been a stubborn little brat, never listening to Finn, even when he was a toddler and Finn just wanted him to go away, to stop following him. Mother had made it worse when she placed looking after the younger ones on Ellijah’s shoulders and expected Finn to follow Elijah when it came to them.

Finn hadn’t cared at first, it saved him having to deal with them, the ones Mother and Father had to forget Freya.

At least Elijah, Freya had known about, had wanted.

I wanted my big brother.

When? When had he ever given Elijah enough of that idea to hold onto it? but then Elijah had always been stubborn, the toddler following him into snow higher than his legs proved that. 

He was stuck with them, even after the defeated Dahlia- if they defeated her, Elijah was stuck-trapped with him and Klaus would not be letting him leave with him.

Kol likely wouldn’t either when he discovered the full effect mother’s spell had placed on Elijah, even if he or Kol and his witch found a way to break the spell binding Elijah to him and his will, the damage to his mental shields was permanent.

Elijah had always had better mental defences even when they were human and Elijah barely noticed any of their attempts to get in his mind. Now it would take him decades to build up the most basic shields, even then any powerful witch could cripple him with little trouble. Finn was the only thing between that now.

I wanted my big brother.

It wasn’t right, Finn had just proved how unsuited for this he was, he was going to end up slipping up, either by honest accident or resentful spite, and yet 

‘Our parents were terrible both, failed us in a numerous way, but you-’ Elijah voice was persistent even without him there, he was right Esther and Mikael had failed all their children and countless ways.

‘You resented us,’ he couldn’t deny it, Elijah had been in his head without shields, it wasn’t just the coffin Elijah had seen and felt, he knew everything. 

‘we didn’t have a choice.’ he wanted to snap back that none of them had, Freya hadn’t had a choice when she was taken, he was four when Mother forced him to keep it quiet, what had Elijah wanted him to do? but he knew that, always had really.

Big brown eyes staring up at him from a messy mop of dark hair, Elijah had just wanted someone to see him, to care.

It wasn’t that hard to work out why Elijah was so foolishly entangled with Niklaus even if it was to both their detriment, Niklaus as a newborn had no expectations for Elijah, and the child that Elijah was would take anything for that attention.

The responsibility, the hardships, the punishments, back where father was still to attached to the idea of Niklaus to bring himself to punish him, Finn had been fine with it as it removed the shadow following him, left him alone as he had wanted.

A thousand years later and now Elijah had no idea what to be without it involving their siblings, and Finn was still  alone.

‘I wanted help protecting our family.’ Yet Elijah had still wanted to reach out, still hoped Finn could move past his grief to help them. He couldn’t forget Freya, couldn’t forget the day the monster had come for her and taken his other half, but now his siblings understood that fear, those feelings.

Elijah’s reaction to learning Finn had been awake was true horror, guilt and self hatred, even after everything Finn had done against his precious family. Yes mother’s spell had left Elijah far more emotional likely due to her wanting her little boy back, over the man she was the reason he grew into, but it hadn’t created those emotions it had simply stopped Elijah from hiding them.

‘You were barely an older brother when you were there.’ Elijah had snapped before Finn’s words stripped him of his defences.

Freya would have been so disappointed in him.

I can’t wait to meet him, Finn, we’re going to be the bestest big sister and brother. Freya confessed, eyes bright and grinning widely at him after mother sent them out days before She came and took her.

I wanted my big brother.

It was time Finn learnt to move on, for Freya, to beat the monster that stole her, save his niece from her fate and perhaps remembering the baby, born quiet in the shadow of her grief, he could step out of his parent’s failures.

The last thing he wanted was to join them as another familiar death caused by Klaus, and he would end up that way if he repeated anything like that where Klaus saw.

[thewalkingwillowtree]

His Fierce Flower

Series Part Listing Found Here

BF2L, Slow Burn - Neteyam x Original Na'vi Female Character

Summery: Neteyam and Enyu, childhood best friends are both obliviously in love with each other. This is their story.

Important to note before reading:

Some characters have been aged up. Neteyam is 22.

En'yuna or Enyu for short (pronounced as N Yunna or N U), is my own creation.

Full recognition, rights and credit is given to the owners of Avatar.

~

PART 6 - Open

“Open.” 

Enyu mindlessly chewed on the berry Neteyam fed her while she focused on the tablet in her hands. 

“Open.” He fed her another. 

She sat cross-legged on the floor of one of the food storage tents, conducting inventory on a few racks of cured meat that came from the smokehouses that morning. 

What was supposed to be a simple task turned out to be a much bigger issue. Many of the other items in the tent had not been catalogued nor organized. The tent was in complete disarray- not to mention the mess of data she was currently looking at. 

Meanwhile Neteyam, who had completed his patrol all of last night and also already managed to have an early morning training session, had the rest of the day off. As per his usual routine, he tracked her down and decided to keep her company until they could go do something “more fun”. His words, not hers.

“Open,” he repeated. He was laid stretched out on his back, ankles crossed with his head comfortably resting in the well of her folded legs, feeding- or more like sneaking her berries from the bowl balanced on his chest. 

“Open.”

“Mmpff-'Tey, you have to at least let me chew first,” she spluttered, grasping his wrist. “And I told you already, I’ll eat when I’m done here. I still have a lot to do. Also, you promised to not distract me if I let you stay.” 

Enyu knew it was a futile promise. At first he was quietly sitting in a corner- as agreed, sharpening his knife then whittling a piece of bark. And then the next thing she knew he was nestled in the cradle of her legs, trying to force feed her. 

Ever since their little “misunderstanding” a little over a month ago, he’d been extremely apologetic. It also seemed as if their friendship shifted a bit as well- for the better she would say. They'd seemed to be further attached to each other lately.

She couldn’t quite put her finger on it but he seemed even more attentive and affectionate than usual- which she just chalked up to be that he’d been afraid of losing their friendship and was now trying to compensate. They’d never fought like that before and she was just as glad as he that they were fine again. 

He released an annoyed sigh. “Flower. You haven’t eaten anything for the day.” He tried to sneak another berry past her lips which she took, but in retaliation she nipped his fingertips and, still staring at her work, ignored his cry of protest. “Why are you even doing all this anyway? Isn’t this Väriä’s job?”

“Yes, but I’m covering for her. Which is good because this whole thing is messed up and I doubt she’d be able to fix it since judging by these last entries- was all her fault in the first place.” She frowned at the tablet in her hand then looked up at the items stacked around the tent.

The humans they lived with had shared their technology with the Na’vi over the years. While the warriors were taught to use their weapons; guns and communication devices to name a few, they also influenced other areas of the clan. 

The clan's food inventory, for one, had been computerized- and so new roles were created. Inventory clerks was the human term for it and Väriä somehow was lucky to have gotten one of the spots. 

It was a simple enough job and Enyu enjoyed it whenever she was asked to help out. All fresh meat, dried meat, fresh fish, dried fish, fresh fruit, dried fruit, herbs, spices- basically everything coming in and anything going out was recorded.

Even though technically Enyu’s permanent role in the clan was “harvester,” she- like Neteyam had taken on many other responsibilities over time. When the humans had introduced the inventory system some years back, she was so fascinated that she volunteered to cover shifts in her free time. 

Inventory was overseen by one of the Elder Chief Officials who ensured that the clan was sufficiently provided for while still making conscious efforts to not waste what was given onto them by Eywa. It was why every person in the clan had their part to play. No job was more important than the next. And sure some Na’vi saw some roles as being “above others” but if it weren’t for those “lesser roles” as they so liked to call it, there would be no balance. 

“Why are you covering for her again? That’s like the sixth time in two weeks! What’s she even doing?” Neteyam asked while grasping her wrist with a frown, so that she paid full attention to him.

“It’s only been the fifth time and I don't know, you know she never tells me anything. My tent mates think she’s actually being courted- well except for F’vailii. She thinks she’s just dodging her duties and off sunbathing or combing her hair somewhere.”  

“Courting. Really?” he asked, shifting his head to see her face better. “Huh... But she’s so… vile. If it is courting, I wish whoever the poor soul is, good luck,” he snorted, while twisting the ends of her hair with his other hand. 

Enyu glanced down at his face. “Yeah you laugh now but was it not just last month that she had her eyes set on you? That could’ve been your poor soul. What was it she’d say again? Oh yes, “Ohhh Neteyam can you come help me lift these heavy baskets? Ohh, you’re so strong, what would I have done without you Neteyam! Neteyam can mpff-” Enyu, mimicking Väriä’s sultry annoying voice was cut short when he reached up and stuffed another berry in her mouth to shut her up. 

For good measure, he flicked her forehead playfully. “Har har har. Not funny. That’s a very scary thought and I’d rather we not talk about it. Seriously though, why hasn’t anyone reported her to the Chief Official, yet? I’m sure she wouldn’t be pleased to hear what Väriä’s been doing. She could do something about it.” 

Enyu swallowed her bite and shrugged. “Like you said, 'Tey, she’s vile. No one wants to cross her. She’s untouchable anyway you take it- being the niece of one of the council members. I’ve seen her use it as a shield and get away with a lot of crap no other Na’vi’d be able to since I’ve been living with her.” 

Neteyam hummed, thinking. She flicked his forehead knowingly then tilted his chin so he’d look at her again. “Don't even think about telling anyone. I live with her, remember?” 

“My dad could help. Their next council meeting is in the-” 

She smacked her palm on his chest, halting him. “That’s even worse than telling the Chief Official!” she cried. “Can you imagine they’re having a council meeting, and your dad goes, “Oh right, your niece is being a little bitch to her roommates. Can you tell her to stop?” Please don’t say anything to your parents. It’ll be fine.” 

“Bitch?” he questioned amusedly, his hand mindlessly moving to intertwine their fingers on his chest instead. “You need to stop hanging out with my brother.” 

“Actually, I got that one from Kiri,” she said proudly.

“Her too then,” he said seriously. “How about you just stop hanging out with my entire family then, hmm? They’re just corrupting you anyway. It’ll be great for me! No more Tuk hogging you the whole time.” He smiled wishfully, as if it were the best idea in the entire world.

“Yeah, that’s not happening. I already miss them a lot right now. My schedule’s been crazy lately.”

He scoffed. “Yeah, I wonder why.” He said it so sarcastically that it came out bitter instead. “Shit. I’m sorry,” he apologized quickly. “I didn't mean it like that... Can we just- not talk about him?” 

“Fine. Alright.” She squeezed their entwined fingers reassuringly. “Back to the topic at hand then. I didn’t hear any agreement, 'Teyam- about not telling your parents.”

“Yes, alright. Fine! I won’t say anything to my parents about the fact that your roommate has been slacking off and making you do all of her work which is preventing you from spending any time with me-” he spat, sneering at the piece of technology she'd just put down as if it offended him. “But, only if you stop to finish this,” he said, raising the bowl toward her with a hopeful smile. 

She snickered at his dramatics but took it from him and placed it to the side shaking her head. “After,” she responded.

He groaned peevishly and rolled around restlessly, laying onto his stomach. “You are frustrating, woman!” he exclaimed, sounding very much like that one time she heard Jake addressing his wife during an argument. “How much longer? I’m sooo bored. Ugh!” His complaint was muffled into the inside of her thigh, so she grabbed the braids at the back of his head to see his face again. 

“You know, I don’t come and bug you when you’re out on a hunt or patrol and whine and complain that you’re taking too long. You don’t have to stay. You’re acting like I’m holding you hostage.” 

“Well maybe you should, come bug me. It’d be a lot better if you were there. And I’m quite happy where I am right now, thank you very much,” he shot back, with a naughty grin before snuggling back into her thigh and gripping her ankle. “Now shhh, my lack of sleep from last night is catching up to me. Can you do that thing to my back, please?” 

“Oh, now I'm the one bothering you? 'Teyam, I’m supposed to be working!”

That meant nothing to him it seemed because the next thing she knew, his tail sailed around blindly before finding and wrapping around her wrist, guiding it to his back in silent demand. 

She scoffed at his antics but being unable to say no to him, she glanced at her forgotten tablet then turned to focus on the needy Na’vi before her. 

She soothed and scratched his back for a little while before moving his hair aside and began to knead the tense muscles from his neck to as far down his back she could reach, then back up again. He groaned in contentment, squeezing her ankle appreciatively at her ministrations, causing her to bite her lip at the sounds he was making. His grunts and moans and sighs sparked something inside her.

Neteyam’s back was well defined and toned from all his training. His skin, soft yet hot to the touch felt sinful beneath her hands as her nimble fingers moved over and over his body, working out all the kinks and knots they could find. 

“Enyu,” he growled breathlessly, sounding like he was falling into a pit of pleasure. She inhaled at the sound of his raspy voice and gasped when he bit into the flesh of her thigh when she rubbed a particular spot too deeply.

Eventually, after a while of working the muscles on his back, she shakily sat up straight, slowly removing her hands from him, deciding that that was enough for the day. There was an unfamiliar coil inside her that had come to life, fluttering in parts of her that were private, and she was very unsure on what to do about it. 

Feeling breathless and a tad light headed, Enyu stared at the Na’vi in her lap who had fallen asleep. She’d given him many massages before but none had quite affected her like that. Had he felt it too? She shook her head. Maybe she was getting sick?

While he dozed, she was able to get a lot completed without any interruptions. She just couldn’t move, unfortunately. The actual tent organization would have to be done later but for now she focused on fixing the data.

An hour and a half later however, she heard a rustle and looked up to see Neytiri enter the tent, pausing at the scene her son and his friend displayed. 

Enyu froze also, her ears perked with alertness, one finger stilled, hovering over the tablet. Glancing down, she blushed furiously when she paid attention to her and Neteyam’s current and extremely intimate position. First Jake, now Neytiri? Was she being punished by Eywa?

Neytiri moved gracefully into the tent. “Hello, Enyu. Kiri said that I would find you here. I see you have company already though,” she mused as she observed the stock surrounding them. She peeked into a few of the crates and baskets curiously- sniffing approvingly at the smell of the smoked meats, and then, eventually sat across Enyu on the blanketed floor. 

“Hi, yes… he kind of- fell asleep,” she responded a bit sheepishly. 

Even though Enyu had known Neytiri all her life- having grown up alongside her children and fortunate enough to have been one of the few who got to see inside the private lives of the clan’s leaders- their softer sides, Enyu was still very much still intimidated by her best friend’s mother. Jake and Neytiri had been nothing but kind to her all her life and though she knew they weren’t her parents, she found herself constantly seeking their approval. 

Neytiri’s eyes fell on her son again, who was lost to the world. His cheek was squished against Enyu’s thigh, mouth ajar with a little drool trickling down and his hand was now wrapped around her tail. His own tail was spasming now and then in his sleep. 

Enyu bit her lip nervously. She knew that the mother was extremely protective of her children. She remembered how long it had taken her to warm up to Kiri’s "friend" Spider. Years! It had taken years. She knew Neytiri and Jake approved of her friendship with Neteyam, but lately she’d been a bit awkward around them ever since her conversation with Lo’ak and Kiri a while back, about the whole “mate” thing. 

His mother snickered. “He’s always slept with his mouth open like that since he was a baby. He snores too sometimes.” They both giggled quietly at her revelation. 

Enyu looked down and couldn’t help tucking away a stray braid behind his twitching ear and when she raised her head again, Neytiri was watching them with a soft fondness. Her eyes though- held a hopeful expression but when she shook her head as if shaking her thoughts away, it was gone. 

“Is everything alright?” Enyu asked.

“Yes.” Neytiri smiled. “I haven’t been seeing you lately, so I had to track you down myself. I only came to say that I am taking Tuk and Kiri to the valley in the morning to pick éveshik for the Eywa prayer tomorrow night. Would you like to go with us?” 

The younger Na’vi’s jaw dropped a fraction at the offer, lips tugging upward. “I would love to. Thank you.” Even after all these years, she still felt touched when the Sully’s wanted to include her in their family activities. 

“Good. Kiri said you can fly with her… So… Is my son behaving? He’s not bothering you is he?”

“No,” Enyu replied almost too quickly. “I like having him around.” She couldn’t help but be honest about it. This seemed to please Neytiri because she smiled in response.

“Have you recovered from your kidnapping? I hope that is not why you have been avoiding us lately. My Jake said you seemed quite mortified at being caught.”

“Oh Eywa…” Enyu mentally face-palmed, unable to control her blush. “Yes. No! I- well it wasn’t- we,” she blew out a breath to compose herself, “we had a bit of miscommunication and I’ve just been busy lately, is all- not avoiding any of you, I promise… Your son can be very-”

“Passionate? Yes, he can be. I know my son. He is so like his father. They are very protective over their-” she seemed to think for a moment, “most precious belongings. They do not like to share,” Neytiri emphasized, eyes squinting with hidden something. She nodded towards her sleeping son. “He clings to you as if you would disappear.” 

Enyu huffed and grinned a little. “I’ve grown used to the clinging. Although it seems to have gotten worse lately. We’re working on the sharing part- though I don’t think we’ve gotten far since he’s been like this since we were children.”

Neytiri chuckled at the fact that Enyu did not get her meaning. “Yes, I remember. My husband has this saying about you two, “thick as thieves”, it means never one without the other.”

Momentarily distracted, Neytiri glanced at her forgotten tablet and then at the harvest stock surrounding them, realization gracing her face. “Have you been doing all this on your own? Where is the Na’vi who should be on shift?”

“Uh- yes? It’s not that much though, really. I can manage,” Enyu said, biting her lip.

Raising a brow, Neytiri responded, “This looks like two day’s work, Enyu.” 

Saved from answering, the loud screech of an ikran roused Neteyam from his nap. He rolled onto his back, his head falling back into the cradle of Enyu’s legs as he stretched and yawned loudly. Blinking up at his friend and rubbing sleep from his eyes, he smiled sleepily and tugged on one of her braids. “Hey, how long have I been out? You finally finished yet, Flower?” he asked cheekily, voice deep and raspy. 

“Good morning or shall I say good evening?” 

At the sound of his mother’s teasing voice, Neteyam scrambled off Enyu’s lap, almost comically. Sitting up, he wiped the drool trail from the corner of his mouth, wide eyes taking in her presence.

“Mother. Mom, hey.” He shifted awkwardly then shot Enyu a look that clearly read, “Why didn’t you wake me?”

Neteyam, as if suddenly realizing something horrifying, looked suspiciously between the two women. “What are you two up to?” 

“Bah! Nothing. We have just been talking. Can I not talk to Enyu without you always intervening or accusing me of something?” his mother cried. 

“Yes of course. I- I was just...wondering,” he said, clearly lying. The truth was Neteyam hated leaving his mother and Enyu alone. When he was a teenager, he walked in on his mother giving Enyu a very detailed explanation about why he was being more “cranky” than usual, citing that his, “body was changing and he was turning into an adult Na’vi now- becoming a man.” Another time, he overheard her telling his best friend that he peed his bed until he was five. He was mortified! Only Eywa knows what other embarrassing shit his mother had said about him. 

As if sensing his untruth and wanting to teach her son a lesson, Neytiri turned and asked Enyu about his most hated topic ever. “So Enyu, I’ve been meaning to ask you about your tutelage. I figured that’s why you’ve been so busy lately. How is your student- Yaćksön, was it?” 

Neteyam’s jaw ticked and his nose flared in irritation. He hung his head and massaged his temple while trying to drown out Enyu’s excited chitter chatter with his mother on said disliked topic. He sighed, whatever tension Enyu had worked out on his muscles was back again- tenfold this time. 

After Enyu’s explanation to him about Yaćksön a month ago, Yaćksön went before the council and his father with his confession. He was stripped of his title and position and given a two year sentence of ikran excrement collection duty. On top of that, he officially chose his “new position” for training as a harvester and to Netayam's displeasure, the fool asked Enyu to be his tutor.

To say that Neteyam disliked this new development was putting it mildly. At first he didn’t seem to mind, this was a great opportunity for his best friend. She always liked teaching and was very excited about officially being a tutor. She used to practise her teaching skills on Neteyam when they were younger, since it was her dream job. 

After observing the two returning with the other harvesters one evening however, he saw something that made his blood boil. Yaćksön was flirting with his best friend.

Enyu had laughed off his observation when he told her and her response of course, was that he was “just being nice to her.” He knew the fool though, Neteyam wasn’t stupid. Lo’ak and Spider had to both physically restrain him from going over and causing a scene when he’d first seen them.

Neteyam looked around the tent, refusing to take part in their conversation. His eyes caught sight of the still full berry bowl next to Enyu and he became even more agitated. Was she seriously trying to kill him with her stubbornness?

“Mother, I’m sorry to interrupt but-” Neteyam said, interrupting their discussion and leaning closer to Enyu. “You still have not eaten anything,” he hissed quietly at her. 

“Neteyam, don’t be rude,” she chided quietly as well, eyes glancing at his mother.

“Enyu! How do you forget to do something like eating? Eating!” Neteyam scolded. “You frustrate me woman. Honestly.” He leaned over her to pick up the bowl, deposited it on her lap and gave her a look that said, “Eat.”

Neytiri’s gaze bounced between the two, quite entertained. She bit down a smile when she saw Enyu pinch her son in the side for the scene he was causing but still yet she obeyed and took a bite of the fruit.

“Well, it is getting late, I should go pick up Tuk from her afternoon class. Enyu will we be seeing you tonight? My mother is making that fish you like,” Neytiri asked while getting to her feet. 

“I’ll be there,” Enyu responded with a smile. 

“And this mess,” said Neytiri gesturing to the stock around them. “I expect that you leave it to be taken care of by the Na’vi responsible for its state in the first place.” Neytiri had her no nonsense expression on now and Enyu nodded in obedience.

“Yes ma’am,” she said respectfully. 

And with that Neytiri bid them goodbye and then the two were alone again.

“That’s it? Yes ma’am? Why do you agree so quickly with her but yet I have to get a lecture every time about how I’m “nagging you too much?”

Enyu pushed a handful of berries in her mouth to refrain from answering, smiling sweetly at him through her mouthful. 

“Oh now you want to eat, huh?” he teased, grinning at her overstuffed cheeks. 

'Gosh she’s beautiful.'

~

Jelly Tey back at it again! And it seems like mama Sully approves.

Anywhooo as always:

I'm sorry if there were any errors.

Please reblog, like and let me know if you enjoyed it in the comments :)

Take care for now.

@love13tter @behindthearcane

[heykoonsy]

Word Count: 3.8k+

Pairing: Husk x Angel Dust (HuskerDust/AngelHusk), slight Angel Dust x OC

Summary: "Give him everything but your ass.” Angel Dust was tasked with one job: convince the investor to subsidize Valentino’s agency. Angel was more of a closer to Valentino, enticing the wealthier of his associates into funding projects for him. However, this latest pitch didn’t go as planned and Angel’s hubris prevented him from seeing the potential drawbacks of a one night stand with someone Valentino marked. In this slow burn love story, Angel must confront the worst parts of himself if he is going to win back his career.

Content Warnings: Rated 18+ for foul language

Author's Note: Figured I would post this since it's all finished.

Angel Dust grabbed for the lighter next to his abandoned pack of cigarettes. Next, he picked up the vanilla scented candle he’d recently picked out. With a strike of the lighter, he lit the wick. The glow of the candle illuminated his calm smile. After putting down the candle, he sat on his bed, taking in the room. 

He’d been keeping to himself these last few days–taking what little time he had between shoots to clean. It took him a few days to sort through all of his laundry and toss out the shredded and stained garments. Afterwards, he had to reorganize his closet. What was once an unkempt mess was now the picture of cleanliness. Every shirt had a hanger, every skirt had a drawer. Every pair of shoes had its place at the bottom of his closet. 

He’d even made time to go through his makeup and toss out the expired products. Not to mention he’d been able to deep clean the carpeted floors. Even the mattress he sat on was cleaned–adorned with fresh sheets. He’d also washed Fat Nuggets’ pig bed so that he would have a comfortable place to lay now that he didn’t have a plethora of laundry piles to pick from. 

Speaking of Fat Nuggets, he was currently getting water from his new fountain. Angel clasped his hands together watching him move over to his little section of their room. He lay back on the bed, his back hitting the soft sheets. He looked up at the ceiling, content with all that he’d accomplished. In truth, he owed this victory to Husk for kicking him in the pants. 

He was living like a slob these last few months. Well really his whole life–topside included. Angel was never the neatest person, but he didn’t have to be. Other people enabled him for as long as he could remember. And in Hell it was no different. But, perhaps that was the problem. With sycophants ready and willing to accept him as he was, and not implore him to do better, this was all was expected of him. Angel had to do better, he realized. So he would. There was never much fun in chores–but chores meant that he was at least catering to his basic needs. 

That didn’t mean that he still couldn’t have fun. Never. He still wanted to drink and dance and do things like shop and eat out. But he’d at least start putting in an effort to do his fucking laundry. That way Fat Nuggets didn’t have to worry about his bed being obscured by a mountain of Angel’s discarded outfits. 

Angel inhaled the vanilla scent around him, savoring it. He looked forward to doing absolutely nothing today–intent on focusing on self-care today. 

But then his phone started to buzz from across the room. 

Angel groaned, and looked at the screen. Jax was calling. 

“Yeah?”

“Mr. Valentino has requested that you attend a meeting with a business partner of his in his stead.”

Angel Dust perked up. Had he heard him right? Val was asking him to oversee a pitch meeting? Angel stood quickly and blew out his candle. 

“When’s the meetin’?” 

“Two hours, a car will be sent for you.” 

Angel heard a click and immediately began searching through his closet. Once he tossed his phone on the bed behind him, he started moving apart the hangers with all four of his hands. He needed something more…elegant. A pencil skirt at the most, with no shoulder pads. Angel tapped his fingers absentmindedly on his upper arms, peering into the many drawers his closet now had. 

Then, it hit him. If he remembered correctly, there was one top he could wear with some high-waisted black trousers. Angel found the blouse quickly enough. It was a sleeveless white tank with a high neckline. He also pulled out a hot pink blazer he’d taken off set from when he played an overbearing girlboss. As for the high-waisted trousers, they were skin tight and long with white buttons. He would be able to wear a pair of classy black pumps with them without issue. 

Angel threw all of his chosen clothing onto the bed behind him. First, he’d shower. Then he’d style his hair for the occasion–not much. He didn’t want to appear overdressed or too done up. This was a simple pitch meeting, nothing too exciting. But still, he wanted to conduct himself well so that if Val wanted to give him other responsibilities, he could do so without worry.

Without any more delay, Angel Dust hopped into the shower and removed the layer of dust and dirt he’d accumulated after cleaning every nook and cranny of his room. He knew that he’d be spending the most of his time drying off, so he was quick beneath the water. Once he was out, he clad himself in a towel and sat at his vanity. 

First things first, he blew out his hair with the hair dryer, giving the fluff at the top of his head a distinct and flirty curl. Next he began applying his makeup, dragging a wand of mascara through his lashes, and choosing a classy nude shade of lipstick. He puckered his lips, smiling at his reflection. 

Angel was meticulous when he dried the rest of his body. After a few minutes, he began assembling his outfit. Once he was all dressed and ready, he was excited about how perfectly everything came together. The best thing about it was that it didn’t even look like a costume. It looked like this was how he could always look if he truly wanted to. 

Angel glanced at himself in the mirror one last time before choosing a small black purse to carry all of his things with him. He looked at his phone for the time. It seemed he had about a half an hour to kill before the car would arrive. It was a good thing that he knew just how to spend that time.

The walk from his bedroom to the bar was second nature at this point. He barely needed to watch where he was walking as he knew every twist and turn. He looked around the corner, seeing Husk’s hunched shoulders behind the bar. Angel didn’t need to announce his presence, as Husk seemed to pick up on his arrival by the sound of his footsteps. 

“Well well well, what are you all dolled up for?”

Angel slid onto his stool, “I’ve been asked to oversee a pitch meetin' with a partner of Val’s.” 

Husk nodded along, “You look excited.”

“I am,” Angel said. “I’ve neva done it solo before.”

“It sounds like fun,” Husk said, but he was mostly being polite. Angel knew that he had no idea what Angel was talking about. Still, it was sweet of him to try. 

“What are you doin’ later?”

Husk took a moment to gesture around him instead of responding. 

Angel smirked at his sass. “What do you do all day when I’m off at work, anyway?”

Husk shrugged his shoulders. “Man the bar, practice card tricks,” he looked at Angel from the corner of his eye, “look in on your pig.”

Angel Dust gasped, his elbows hitting the table. “You take care of Fat Nuggets when I’m away?” 

Husk closed his eyes, like he regretted telling Angel. “I just make sure his water dish is full,” he said. “I also make sure he’s eating.” When Husk looked at Angel, he groaned.

“Holy shit,” Angel said under his breath. “You’re a big softy, ain’t ya, Husky?” He asked, raising a hand to poke at Husk’s cheek.

“He has to get exercise–

“You even take him on walks!?”

Husk stopped talking, turning around so that he could mess with some bottles on the bar. 

“No wonder he hasn’t wanted to go anywhere!” Angel exclaimed. “I can’t believe this.”

Husk looked back at Angel, a faint blush on his cheeks. “We can walk him together next time,” he offered. 

Angel blinked a few times before a smile stretched across his face. “I’d like that, this meetin' shouldn’t take any more than three hours. Will you be free then?”

Husk took a moment to respond. “Yeah,” he said, too shy to turn around. 

“It’s a date,” Angel said, standing up from his stool. “We’ll walk our son when I get off work.”

Husk’s cheeks lit up, his hands fumbling the bottle he was holding and nearly dropping it. He looked over to Angel, who had already gathered his things and moved towards the hotel doors.

The car that picked up Angel was fancier than anything he’d rode in before. It seemed that Valentino got himself an upgrade with all the money his last picture made. Angel patted himself on the back as he sat in the back, crossing his legs with the ample leg room showing his ass on camera bought. Jax was in the passenger seat messing with something in a briefcase. He pulled out a manilla folder and handed it back to Angel. 

“Read over this script quickly, I’ve annotated the sections that are important.”

Angel grabbed the flimsy folder and pulled out the rather flimsy script. He looked over the highlighted sections that Jax made notes beside. His handwriting was fancier than Angel expected, though he wrote in all capital letters. 

STEAMY SHOWER SCENE

BEDROOM MASTURBATION SCENE

Angel continued through the packet. “Huh, I feel like I’ve seen all of this before.”

“You have,” Jax said simply. “Which is why Mr. Valentino wants you to reject this pitch.”

Angel nodded along. “He basically wants me to do a master cut of all my best scenes from other productions. Goodbye residuals.” He palmed through the rest of the documents. He noted a small red envelope. “What’s this?”

“Mr. Valentino would like you to sever our relationship with this partner of his.”

Angel Dust raised an eyebrow, but tucked everything back into his manilla folder. He sat back in his seat. His excitement for the pitch meeting was dampened slightly. Not because he had to reject the pitch–but because he now had better plans afterwards. He smiled to himself, thinking about just what Husk looked like taking Fat Nuggets on a walk. Did he look grumpy? Or did he prefer his pig’s company to his own? Did he dote on him? The whole idea created a flutter in his chest–a warmth that emanated through the rest of his body. He wanted to be home already.

But before he could go home, he had to destroy the dreams of Val’s partner and the pathetic writer that brought Val this lackluster script. Angel looked out the window and realized they were approaching their target. The offices were quite modest, nothing like Guerrero’s or Vercelli’s. But, they had been working with Valentino for years. His relationship with Valentino must have just began–or it had been on the decline for a while. 

“We’ve arrived,” Jax said as the car stopped. He got out. 

Angel Dust followed him out, hooking his purse onto his shoulder. He let Jax lead him from the sidewalk and up the stairs to the office building. He took one last glance at the car behind him. This wouldn’t take long.

“We’ve come to meet with Mr. Jullien for the pitch,” Jax said with little emotion to the secretary in the lobby. 

“Yes, he is in another meeting currently, I’ll take you to the conference room to wait,” he said, standing up from his desk and leading the way. 

Jax allowed Angel Dust to follow in front of him so he got a good look at the offices they passed. He looked around, seeing white walls and beautifully decorated office space. There were paintings and fancy wall sconces. If this director was making decent money, then why would Val sever–

Angel Dust’s eyes went wide as he passed another conference room. He stopped abruptly and Jax nearly slammed into him. 

“Angel?”

Angel looked at Jax and continued walking. “Sorry about that, my heel almost fell off,” he lied. He’d only been able to see his back, but Angel knew that silhouette anywhere. It was Spitzers.

“Please wait here, Mr. Jullien will be in shortly.”

With that, the secretary excused himself and made his way out of the conference room. Angel took a seat at the far end of the table, and Jax sat beside him on his right. He took in the room. More white walls, more fancy carpet. There was a conference phone in the center of the table. A large TV hung on the wall on the other side of the room–likely for presentations. He gave a glance towards Jax. 

He wondered if Jax knew anything about why Jullien was being fired. It was unlikely, but Jax was capable enough to draw his own conclusions. Afterall, he was able to witness what happened to Brut in real time. He had to have his own opinions regarding that utter failure. 

But still, Angel kept quiet. So what if he knew about everything? It’s not as if either of them were in a position to act against orders. Angel shrugged and crossed his legs in his chair. He looked at his manila folder and opened it up. He gave the documents another read through and began to prepare himself. 

He noted three good things about the script, and three things Jullien could work on with his director. He loved his formatting, stage direction and visualizations. While the material wasn’t unique, there were a lot of elements that made it his own. But, it was a rip-off of Valentino’s work plain and simple. It was likely to lose them money in the long-run. 

The door opened suddenly and Angel’s attention was drawn to a shorter demon in a suit. He walked into the room, and towards the both of them. Angel and Jax stood as Jullien outstretched his hand to Angel first, then Jax.

“It’s great to see you today,” he said happily. “I’m hoping the script was to your liking.”

Angel nodded, “A great read,” he looked over at Jax for support–seeing as how he was the one to actually read it. 

Jax nodded along as well. 

“It was a relief to get a call back regarding this script. I know Valentino wants perfection from his directors, and I sought to give him just that.”

Angel smiled stiffly. Rip-offs maybe, he thought to himself as he sat back down. “Mr. Valentino recognizes that you’ve done an excellent job.”

“Marvelous news, will we be discussing scheduling today? I can call the director immediately to discuss–

“Unfortunately, Mr. Valentino has decided that he will no longer be workin' wit' your company.” Angel said as he pulled out the red envelope from the manilla folder. 

Jullien gasped, shock registering on his face for a moment before overwhelming anger took its place. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Jax left Angel Dust inside at the front desk while he arranged to have the car come back. The meeting didn’t last nearly as long as he thought. Angel wasn’t intending on pulling out the card until the end of their meeting, but to be honest, Jullien was acting really pompous. It was like he didn’t even realize that he was ripping off other directors’ hard work. There was even a shibari scene that he knew was directly pulled from Guerrero’s latest picture–and it was just released. How dense could you be? Angel thought as he crossed his arms. 

“Looks like you made it out of there unscathed,” Angel heard a familiar voice say from beside him. 

He looked over at Spitzers, a smile going to his face. “He doesn’t take rejection well,” Angel commented. “You might wanna make yourself scarce. He probably knows you’re the reason Val cut him loose.”

Spitzers chuckled. “My first deal back in this ring and Val already caught wind of it.”

“He’s a real basta’d,” Angel said.

Spitzers dipped his head low, his voice lower. “You never answered me before.”

Angel knew immediately what he was referring to. All those months ago when Spitzers had his meeting with Guerrerro–when he asked him if their fling was worth it. Angel considered his question. His answer would have been a resounding “yes” in the moment. Val using it against Brut and Agony turned their moment to ashes in his mouth, however. Now that there were months between him and the guilt he felt following their termination…

“We had fun, for sure,” Angel Dust said, closing his eyes. “But don’t you think we should be focusing on other things?”

“Oh? What did you have in mind?”

Angel looked over at him. “You clearly have a knack for this business,” Angel said. “If you’re itching to invest–invest in yourself.”

“What are you talking about?”

Angel Dust looked around the lobby–noting that even the secretary was gone, likely out to lunch. He rummaged through his purse quickly and pulled out a pen. He took Spitzers’ arm and began writing something on it. He held his hand for a moment, and stared into his eyes. 

“If you can’t work with Valentino, why not become Valentino?”

Spitzers looked down at his arm, at two phone numbers etched onto his skin. Before he had a chance to respond, Angel had already sauntered off.

“So where do you usually go on your walks?” Angel Dust asked, sucking down his celebratory iced coffee as Husk gingerly placed Fat Nugget’s leash on him. 

Husk stood and Fat Nuggets giddily began running towards the door. He tightened his grip on the leash, not letting him get far. “It varies, sometimes I have errands to run.”

“I can’t picture you and my pig going to the post office,” Angel poked fun.

Husk let out a scoff. “The girls love him there,” he said. 

Angel Dust gasped, throwing a hand out and catching Husk on the shoulder. “You’re jokin’.”

Husk didn’t respond, instead he just led the two of them out the door. 

Angel Dust watched as Fat Nuggets waddled happily down the sidewalk. He followed by Husk’s side–which Husk must have taught him, because Angel certainly didn’t. Fat Nuggets was as undisciplined as his father. It looked like a little bit of regulation did his pig good, and he recognized that it also did himself good. 

Angel was finding joy in being outside on a walk rather than cooped up in his room avoiding Charlie. His room was clean and his laundry was done and put away. Things were going well with Cherri, too–he no longer felt the need to avoid responding to her texts when they came in. Things were going…great. And that concept was as foreign to Angel as the feeling that was overcoming him on their walk today. 

“What?” Husk asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Hmm?” Angel asked, realizing that he was staring at Husk intently as he pondered. “Nothin’.”

“We’re almost at the deli, you hungry?”

“There’s a deli up this way?” Angel asked, ignoring the question.

“Yeah, we visit sometimes–the wraps are great.”

Angel’s mouth started watering. He skipped lunch, so he was starving. He hoped that Husk couldn’t hear his stomach growling. “Well, if it’s close,” Angel said, hiding his smile from Husk. 

In a few minutes, Husk opened the door to the deli and Angel was hit with the inviting smell of fresh bread beckoning him forward. If his mouth had stopped watering before, this was surely going to make it start up again. 

“Look who’s back,” someone called from behind the counter. “Bess, the pig is here.”

“Fat Nuggets!” A girl yelled from the kitchen. 

Angel heard dainty footfalls speeding towards them. A small imp began racing towards Fat Nuggets and he greeted her happily. Angel heard Fat Nuggets oink happily at their reunion. He looked over at Husk, who shrugged. 

“Glad to see the boyfriend this time,” the imp behind the counter said, not looking up from his crossword. 

“We’re here for lunch,” Husk said, ignoring the comment. “Hit us up with two wraps. To go.”

“You don’t want to stay?” Bess asked, her eyes wide. 

Husk looked over at Angel, asking him with his eyes what he’d like to do.

“We can stay for a bit,” Angel nodded at him. 

Husk sighed. Deeply. He wrestled for his wallet and tossed over some cash to the imp. He rang him up quickly and shot a look over at Bess to get back to work. 

“Okay, I’m going,” she said regretfully. “I’ll be back with your food.” She made her way back to the kitchen sadly. Just when Angel thought they’d be rid of her, she popped her head back out. “And a snack for Fat Nuggets.”

Husk grabbed them a booth and sat opposite Angel–who was smiling widely. When he looked up, he groaned. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Angel said with a shit-eating grin. 

Husk blushed, “You don’t need to, I know what you’re thinking.”

“You really should treat your boyfriend with more respect,” Angel lectured him. “Afterall, you and your boyfriend are on a date right now.”

Husk rose from the booth, clearly done with Angel’s teasing. Angel stood and caught him by the shoulders, forcing him to sit back down, 

“I was jokin’, I was jokin’,” Angel said, giggling. “Gosh, don’t get so embarrassed.”

Husk kept his eyes closed, his cheeks stained red. “When I brought Fat Nuggets in here before, Belise asked if I was his owner.” He looked past Angel and towards Belise at the counter. “But I’m not sure how me answering ‘no’ turned into me walking him for my boyfriend,” he said, eyes glaring over at the imp. 

Belise waved, “I used to walk somebody’s pet–that’s how I got Bess.” He gestured towards the kitchen.

Angel looked back at Husk, who promptly hid his ever-reddening face in his hands. 

“I’m never coming here again,” Husk said, clearly mortified.

Angel laughed, patting Husk on the shoulder. “It’s okay, Husky. We don’t have to tell ‘em I’m your boyfriend,” Angel cooed.

“You could do worse, Husky,” Belise said.

“Could everyone please stop talking?”

“Order up,” Bess said, carrying two trays of food their way. She even had a little plate on top of her head–for presentation. She placed their trays in front of them and then grabbed the other and put it on the floor. She cut up some fresh veggies for Fat Nuggets. 

Angel gasped lightly, seeing at how happy Fat Nuggets was. He grabbed his phone and snapped a picture quickly. “Isn’t he just the cutest?” Angel asked, showing the picture to Husk.

“He’s spoiling his dinner,” Husk said, tearing at the wrapping their lunch came in. He opened his mouth wide and took a bite. 

Angel laughed at his phone and turned it to Husk again, so he could see the photo he got of him eating. “You look cute when you eat, too.”

Husk glared at Angel and turned away from him as he ate. “Would you just eat?”

Angel put down his phone and smiled. He grabbed the first sustenance he’d had this whole day and began chowing down. It might have been the hunger talking–but this was the best wrap he’d ever fucking had. The tomatoes were fresh and crispy, the onions were zingy and there wasn’t too much lettuce. The meat was moist too! 

“Fuck, Husky, this is so good,” Angel said, nearly moaning.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” he lectured. “But, yeah, it’s good.”

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[beeboos-creativecorner]

Visionaries - an Assassin's Creed: Mirage found family fanfic

Final day, baby !! This was the beginning to a wholesome, found family story, heavily inspired by a post my bud made about one of her dreams early this year. I was hooked on the concept, it got out of hand, but the story itself didn't carry through to its glorious end </3 One day I hope to return to this fic (if I find inspo or play Mirage again), it was about to get quite deep into spiritual concepts that really hit home for me, while also expanding more on Eagle Vision lore (because I never see anyone talk about it in depth ??). For now, I'm perfectly happy with sharing what's already here - just because it's unfinished, doesn't mean it's not worth something Be warned : side mission where Basim has a massive attitude hehe

Fic under the cut x

“There are no explanations for how or why these mysteries affect our lives. But they’re like imprints, innate, woven into the fabric of our souls so when we walk this earth, we experience the world in its true light. You see things differently, do you not? You need not say so. You read differently, that’s all. You may not know it, but you cast a weary gaze upon the earth. I do not find the same qualities among many of our brothers, meaning our creed, our ideals are taught and applied to the world but not fully understood. It takes a talent many humans have not mastered. Not all can see through the veil that is the physical — the abstract. When we gaze upon a tree, we see its roots. I do, I’ve seen you have, and Sahar will see more of it too as the time passes. I sense the same sensitivity in her. There is no value for the sense we have been given and oftentimes it may feel like a curse to be free of ignorance and exposed to the harsh light of the world and its people. Although we are few, be reassured that your experiences are not misunderstood and are shared by a select few scattered throughout this life.” — Hamid, unused excerpt

'Hasty' and 'with an agenda' were the last descriptors Basim would use to pin to his personality, but coming from the lips of his mentor, almost anything rang true. He may have pushed his limit in arguing his point, true, and as futile as it was, it was worth every word to try — he was right, he'd take that to his grave. It earned him a following jab at his apparent 'growing ambition' and 'if he cannot execute a basic task, he has no place in executing the morally corrupt'.

Within his very essence, Basim knew this was to spite him for his cheeky defiance and even so, he had worn a smile to dress the wound of being outwitted. He'd wrestled with his features to achieve such a slight feat; his face betrayed him even at the best of times, but he denied giving her the satisfaction of any visible sign of defeat.

Incisions aside, he believed Roshan to be above petty, childish constructs like dealing punishments. Today he was proven wrong. Some days she had shorter patience for him than others — that was a topic he never had the courage to broach — and despite being a full-fledged member of the Hidden Ones, his autonomy was lower than he'd hoped for. He wasn’t an initiate anymore, so where was his wiggle room? He could follow a set of directions and traditions just fine, so long as they were reasonable. What he was being subjected to, was not.

Basim wasn't impatient per se, but he found sensibility in efficiency. Anything that wasn't consuming his time in a week-long, leisurely fashion suited him. This newest task, however, was of the painstakingly slow kind.

Holding petty grudges was not worth Basim's time but neither was this supposed 'mission', so he allowed himself to be at least a little resentful towards Roshan. He didn't do mindless things, he hated mindless things. If he wasn't learning, progressing or excelling, what was the point?

If he had no respect, he'd accuse his mentors of being lazy. He didn't see anyone else claim contracts off the board, he didn't see anybody else offer to help out allies in need. The first and final verdict was: "Basim can do this." They were right. Basim can do this. Something sparked up in him, a spur of cleverness and optimism. He wanted them to validate what he already knew and he aimed to win that battle. He planned on doing this errand and doing it so well that his betters would simply have to admit: "Basim is above menial chores" and tell him he can be on his way. Then the invisible rope that tethers him to Roshan would loosen. Wiggle room. Deserved space. So his step lightened as he followed the path he was instructed to take. He'd do it and make light work of it. Although a little begrudgingly.

—

He waited outside the walls of Baghdad, leaning against the post of some merchant's stall, fading in and out of a doze. A sensible rendezvous point, excluding getting over the wall, which happened to be half the mission. It was a necessary precaution. Apparently the guards did not favour someone who looked just as suspicious as the next person that walked past. Getting past the gate was the easy part, slipping past the guards' line of sight was another. It was a post dependent attribute; those posted at gates had a heightened sense of paranoia. There was always something tense about the atmosphere when walking into a guarded gate. He knew not why. His muscles clung to the ghost of a memory of that provocative experience and that was sufficient information to remind him not to repeat that mistake of waltzing in where he supposedly didn't belong.

He wondered how he'd get back in, now that his foggy mind was drifting in that direction. If it was him alone, he'd routinely backtrack and go back the way he came. His dismay was in knowing he would struggle to do so with others accompanying him. Again, proving he wasn't the man for such a mission. One or two allies wasn't a problem, solo tasks were preferable, though. The nature of this mission, however, entailed allies of lesser physical aptitude than he, so he was told. That side note subtly nagged at him. He found himself beginning to reroute in his head to vacate for the newcomers. What a headache. He wished he'd succumbed to sleep instead, a nap would've been more beneficial for the moment. No matter how dwindling his rest was, his thoughts continued to tick, preventing him from absconding reality and forcing him to focus on identifying his new brothers.

Picking them from the crowd wasn't an excruciating challenge whatsoever. He gave them credit if they were feigning incompetence to make an innocent first impression to the public. Basim watched them for a minute, stumbling, struggling to carry items, settling the crates down in a spot that looked 'good enough' when it very obviously was inconveniently in the middle of the road — clever. Almost believable. It wasn’t quite 'hiding in plain sight', but one could never be too careful as a Hidden One. Perhaps remaining hidden sometimes meant to call yourself to attention. Oddly counterintuitive, yet effective nonetheless.

Feeling a little guilty he hung back for so long, he approached the pair. He plastered on a smile like he was reuniting with family and not like he was wishing to be curled up, snoozing in the shaded patch he was previously sheltered by.

"Allow me," he offered kindly, taking a box out of the hands of the smaller of the two, lightening the load. His eyes snapped to the corners, searching for the small imperfection that would confirm these were indeed his allies. A little triangular carving, resembling the symbol of the Hidden Ones. He got the right people. The boost of dopamine didn't last long when he honed in on the exact situation he was placed in, regarding present company.

His 'allies' were a man and his young daughter. It all clicked into place. Every letter of the mission briefing was true and didn't hint at any grander, more exciting scheme, despite being so vague. Bothersome and disappointing. The girl — who may have been no more than twelve — shyly thanked him for the assistance but her voice faded into the background of his own internal one. He began to conspire what he'd do when he broke from the bounds of this living purgatory. Deep, undisturbed sleep. If he was lucky.

Poor hospitality, Basim. Ripping himself from his daydream, he turned to the girl's father to introduce himself. The polite thing to do.

"Basim."

"Hamid." His eyes creased with lines of kindness as he smiled. "Sahar." He gestured to his daughter, who perked up but retreated into her father's shadow. He sensed her discomfort and sent the girl a nod of solidarity. She didn't warm to the telepathic message and he understood well enough. He adjusted the crate in his arms and hugged it to his chest to prepare him for the path ahead.

Unnecessary words were not spent and hence introducing themselves, nothing else was discussed. Prearranged missions had a tendency to be smooth sailing if well-thought-out. This one was no exception, considering its low risk of running into danger. Save from the looming gate in front of them. Both dangerous and not thought about at all. No one was to blame for the gate problem, but the responsibility fell to Basim to deduce how to navigate said problem.

They neared the gate and Basim's own inner safety mechanism was already firing off warning shots. He kept himself cloaked between the man and his girl as they walked, appearing as if he was their servant carrying their luggage. Or he hoped that's how he was being perceived by the jittery guards at their designated stations.

"Just to be sure," he raised the question, inclined towards Hamid, in nothing more than a whisper to maintain the ruse he'd made on demand. "What are in these crates? If we are pulled up by the guards, I'd like to know what it is I'm carrying." Routine security checks were common but as long as Basim wasn't hauling a crate full of contraband or smuggling other living beings across the threshold, he wouldn't take issue with it. Surely not, especially with someone so young in his company. He couldn't imagine dragging a child into illegal activities. No child should be raised in an environment like that, he'd never been more adamant about anything.

Hamid flashed a surreptitious smirk and replied, "Secrets." Basim's expression hardened. Any more vague information could get them killed for sure, his gut told him so. He itched to pry the lid open and look inside this burden to reveal these apparent secrets. Were it not nailed shut and in his arms, his thief's fingers would make that happen.

"I must know." Basim grew desperate, his alerted senses picking up every potential threat in the near vicinity. They were within the gate's suffocating grasp and Basim need not even be told. His ribcage felt as if it were curling in on itself and his physical surroundings grew dense. "Some peace of mind," he clarified, wondering if his anxieties were creeping through. He noticed it was beginning to get harder to mask fear when fatigue runs the body and mind down.

"Nothing more than dusty, old books and crafting materials, my friend, you need not worry. We'll pass the guards with ease." Basim wished he felt reassured by those words. He did not in the slightest. "Keep close, Sahar," he instructed the girl and she obliged willingly. Out of apprehension of the new environment, Basim figured.

They all crammed uncomfortably together to indicate they were associated with one another. Hopefully not condensed enough to separate themselves from the normal passersby. They walked on through the crowd, almost making it through the gate entirely before they were singled out by a heavily armoured man seated at a desk. Horribly out of place in any other circumstance, but in the moment he was booming at them to come over, nothing felt contradictory about his cladding and his passion for logarithms.

Hamid advised Basim not to say a word and leave the talking to him and Basim would've loved to verbalise his agreement, if his throat hadn't sealed itself off. His breathing ran shallow and he had to redirect all his energy towards controlling the onset of panic.

They knew his face. He knew they knew his face. Or his robes at the very least. Posters depicting his visage were all over Baghdad. Shoddy depictions at that, but sometimes that was enough for the brain to use as an identifier. His head drooped, staring at the box he held, passing his fear for submission or shame. This is the last time he ever played movers or servants, he swore to himself that. He didn't particularly mind it, but it was always the situation in which he had to do so was what bothered him most. Always a close shave from being sprung. Being that close to death left him in no control, like dangling above molten lava tied to nothing but twine. To say the least, he did not favour it.

It was a falsely polite, drab exchange of 'where are you headed?' Abbasiyah. 'What are you transporting today?' Writing materials, tools, homeware. 'What brings you to Baghdad?' The awaiting world of learning. 'Oh, Abbasiyah is wonderful for that' and 'is that your daughter? That's lovely. There's much to see, young one,' and a threatening, 'I don't want to see her out unescorted; supervise that one.' Amidst it all, not a single eye batted at Basim The Servant and he'd never been so grateful for a small stroke of luck. Hamid offloaded a pouch of coin and they passed through into the light again, into Baghdad.

"How did you do that?" Basim queried, once he'd regained the ability to breathe steadily.

"Do what?" Hamid's tongue phrased it just right to make Basim sound like the fool, although his answer was another question. "Bypass the guards? Simple. Don't act as if you've something to hide." Basim pursed his lips. This new ally had an attitude. "A little honey makes even dirt taste sweet." An odd answer, if not cryptic.

"Bribery?" A guess to decipher the riddle. That pouch of coin...

"Not at all. I paid my fee. It's all in the understanding, my friend. A bit of sympathy for the guards, uh? They get bored and tense, working tirelessly. Give them some small talk, some kindness, make their job easier for a minute and be on your way. It's not only you on edge. To change the energy received, you must change the energy being emitted." Basim almost stopped dead in the way of an oncoming camel. He'd completely froze in puzzlement. Was he a window? Was it so obvious that he was sweating through his robes? Perhaps he was a terrible actor.

"I see," he said, letting the scepticism tint his words. "Unfortunately, some of us do not have the luxury of conversation. Forgive me if I'm wary of being attacked." That, in fact, was a confession. One he didn't want slipping from his mouth.

"Ah. Not a friend of the Caliph?" A joke? "I hope this won't become a problem." The inflection indicated it was more cautious question than statement. Basim followed his eyes to Sahar, who was tailing her father, invisible in the shade of the shadow he cast. Therein lay the worry.

"Nor do I. I will do my best to keep you both safe. You have my word."

"To the letter," he affirmed, nodding a split second before a bag tumbled off the stack of precariously balanced luggage Hamid was hauling. He uttered an obscenity under his breath. "Sorry." Basim wasn't certain on who he was apologising to, so he kept quiet. "Did not think transport through. We'll have to carry everything the rest of the way there, if it doesn't trouble you."

Oh, it did. It did a lot. "Not at all." Lying through his teeth. Basim wasn't one to do such things. Not normally. Being crabby over this mission since the briefing had a domino effect and he'd rather be feigning kindness than maiming with honesty. He'd get over it. Whenever he forgot that it was all Roshan's fault for assigning him this colossal time waster.

From the shade, Sahar peeked out to claim the bag, as her arms were void of baggage, then slinked back to her hiding place. Hamid appreciated his daughter's help and did so verbally, whilst scanning the area for his bearings. His thorough search soon morphed into uncertainty.

Basim was tired of this. He was before, now it was painful. Any more incompetence and he'd lose his mind. For someone who spoke so eloquently, he had no idea how Hamid couldn't discern his north-east from his south-west. Wanting to move this process along, Basim suggested,

"Do you have a map?" He tried not to sound like he had better things he could be doing. Albeit true, anything to minimise lingering out on the streets would be beneficial for everyone, not just him. Hamid peered past the countless boxes and bags to his belt, where many pouches were attached.

"Uh, I don't suppose you could look?" Basim repressed a sigh.

"Of course." Of course you would, he wanted to say, but he knew better. Growing up a pickpocket didn't make him exempt from showing courtesy. He was doing his best to give his new brothers (burdens) a warm welcome, no matter how unhappy he was with the task at hand.

He put the singular crate down at his feet and sifted through the pockets for a map that might pinpoint the location of wherever they were meant to be headed. As he fixed his mitts on a square of paper that could have possibly been a map, a shriek tore through the peaceful bustle of Baghdad.

"Thief, thief! Guards! That man is stealing from his purse!"

"No, no, no. Not now." Retracting his hand in a flash, out of impulse, he scooped up the crate again. Hamid spoke a thousand words with one look, but the baseline was: 'what in the world is going on?' "We should get going," he instructed with urgency, ushering them away as quickly as he could manage with his hands full. So much for ensuring their safety.

Swords drawn, a pair of soldiers spliced through the crowd to pursue Basim and his newfound kin. He placed himself tail-end in defence, hurrying Hamid and Sahar forward with his quickened step. A struggle, factoring in the weight they bore in their arms. Basim hadn't given a second thought as to where they were going, it just had to be a lengthy distance between him and any armed forces. Not the warmest of receptions, but he'd had colder — Roshan earlier that morning, for example. Not that he had the second to spare to ruminate on that instance. Food for thought he had no time to digest.

—

They lost their pursuers eventually. Veering down countless trails and disappearing on something so simple as a bench did the trick. An old trick, yet effective to no fault. Prior to that debacle — the other part of Basim's brain not kicking up adrenaline and spurring him to run, counted at least twenty apologies to the public, all served by Hamid as they pushed past with impudence. He'd changed his tune, resting his forehead against the tower of boxes he had in front of him, speechless and more or less breathless. Basim concurred, his heaving created an offbeat overlay, loud in his ears.

Next to her father, Sahar clutched her one bag like it was precious, making almost no noise as she caught her breath. At intervals, she'd cast her gaze to Basim, full of spite that he'd broken his vow moments after pledging it. Her displeasure with him was fair, Basim accepted that. But the scrutiny of a little girl was unsettling, especially feeling it impact his perception. If he'd disappointed a kid, surely he was inadequate for this kind of job. He didn't even take a glance at her — couldn't bear to. Though his eyes were elsewhere, he could feel her emotion beginning to hang about him like a shadow, reflective of the few moments he spent in her company.

His mind spiralled, remembering friends he'd let down before. How many kids' lives he cut short from his recklessness. He didn't mean to. Just like he didn't mean to this time. Oh no. Guilt. Too deep now. The darkness was familiar, an old friend returning to visit. A resented old friend. Familiar though, and strangely reaffirming. A nightmare was his waking hours. His resting ones too (if he could call it resting these days).

That's it. The jinni. That's what it reminded him of. Sahar's glaring mirrored that of his personal demon and that was a terrorising sensation he thought no person could replicate. His chest was tightening a few notches again, squeezing his lungs, twinging a few heartstrings. His bottom lip jutted out. Perhaps it wasn't just Roshan who was overly sensitive today.

Having had enough of the restrictions, Basim stood up abruptly, without the crate he was responsible for lifting and began a pace in a seemingly random direction. Inner turmoil was no easy conquest. External ones, however, he could deal to and that was a better place to start.

Those posters with his features scrawled on them posed a problem for any future moves he or his companions wanted to make. First thing to tackle: getting rid of those. From there, he hoped, their journey would be less a superfluous plight and more a meaningless meander.

"Where are you going?" Hamid's voice strained with worry. When Basim's reply was dead air, he called out, "Basim?" Suppose his vigour returned.

"Posters. I have to get rid of them," he stated. He didn't mean to sound short and snappy but his patience was wearing thin. His faux perky disposition was corroding.

"Oh, a known face, are you?" His jokes grated on Basim. He wasn't certain if it was the condescending undertones or the fact that it was something he would've said on the other end of the stick. "If you don't mind my curiosity, I'd like to see one. Local art sparks my interest, even if it is so small as a wanted poster." Basim gritted his teeth and prayed no other sign of frustration seeped through. Movers or tour guide, Basim did not sign up for this test of willpower.

"If you can call it art," he muttered. "All right. Keep in sight, I'll show you." Hamid sprung out of his seat with renewed energy. He entrusted the safety of their possessions to Sahar, who was told specifically to stay seated and keep watch until they got back. He felt her uncomfortable presence on him again the second he turned away, leading her father to wherever a poster may be. Being rude wasn't in Basim's nature, but in that beat, he was grateful to be parting ways with her temporarily. Maybe in that time she could fix her sulky demeanour.

—

Fascination was an odd thing, tailored to the individual through innumerable factors. For Basim it was classical literature and the wonders of the sky above. For Hamid... it was an unintelligible scribble based off who knows what. Some eyewitness who had a hard time remembering faces? Because he was sure he appeared nothing like that in his reflection. They said that was the door to narcissism. They may be correct in this case. Though who was he to complain? The less the image looked like him the better.

Basim scrunched his nose, staring at what Hamid could possibly be so enraptured by. There was a likelihood that there were just some things he'd never understand. For once, that notion didn't string him up. Instead, he gazed off into the blur, blank as ever, save from fatigue's dark circles.

"The line work is incredible, the use of colour is eye-catching — an interesting piece," he mused, then paused to lower his voice for only Basim's ears, "if not a little inaccurate." Basim idly nodded in reply, humming a tune between an agreeing 'yes, thank you,' and a sarcastic 'yes, thank you'. The sooner he could dispose of the target on his head, the sooner they'd all be safe to roam. Not that Hamid was too concerned with that at the minute.

Impatient and bored to no imagination, Basim took hold of the edge of the sheet of paper and yanked downwards, shredding the poster in one satisfying tear. On automatic, he balled it and shoved it in a pouch, out of sight, not bothering to look at how they failed to do him justice.

Hence would be the appropriate time to walk away. A hundred times over he'd have done so. Had Basim had the energy, this unimportant instant would have followed trend. Unaware to himself, his psyche sailed off to distant shores once more, starting a new life away from unreasonable mentors, silly missions, sleepless nights, odd companions and bounties on his head. That was a life worth living. He'd have played the scenario out too, were it not for an obnoxious cough that erupted from beside him.

Another civilian out to try their luck and challenge the limits of Basim's sanity. A stream of accusations flowed from their mouth, whirling around Basim but not threatening enough to strike an alerted response. He phased out of reality again with hooded eyes, unamused. Amusement must have been what this civilian was lacking, for creating all this fuss served no other purpose and drew no eyes their way. It was him on the poster, yes, but his refusal to entertain the drama outweighed his instinctual reflex to be honest.

To his relief, words that would have been wasted were preserved and better utilised by Hamid, whose bearing suddenly exuded a graceful, disarming authority.

[justagalwhowrites]

ok but in the watch…

Joel holds her close all night, caressing and stroking all the hurting parts of her and knowing he’s never going to let anything or anybody hurt her ever again. And it’s dark and they’re just laying there, happy to be together. So so happy to still have each other. And then, suddenly he starts talking. Quietly, whispering, barely a breath but you hear him perfectly. And he tells you about Sarah. The day she was born, 10 fingers and toes and curly hair. Her growing up, her first steps and words. Her birthdays, her favourite things, the music she liked and the movies she watched just because Joel liked to watch them. The silly things she did and even the things that used to annoy him, that he would now do anything to get back. The last day, the last night and the last moments and he tells you about everything after. The pain and the hurt and meeting you and you.

And he chokes up because he didn’t think he would ever get this. He didn’t feel like he ever deserved something like you. But you’re still here. In his arms, even after everything he yelled at you. And he promises you the world and the sun and the universe. He’s not quiet there to say these 3 words, even though you’re both feeling them. It’s there, in his slow and gentle fingers. In his lips, pressed against you hair and his arms tightening around you. It’s always there with Joel. It always will be..

Omg Bestieeeee

Joel is on you like glue when he brings you home. He only leaves for a few minutes right after he puts you to bed the first time. You're not sure where he goes, at first, but a doctor comes to your house the next day and you figure it out. You managed to make it out with your limbs intact but you do have a few broken ribs and fingers on top of feeling like your entire body is just a bruise now. Lucky, all things considered, even though it doesn't FEEL particularly lucky.

Otherwise, he's always there, right beside you.

You keep waiting for Joel to leave. For the guilt to ease enough that he could move on without it eating him alive. But he stayed. He was always near, always jumping to get you a glass of water or help you sit up or change your bandages. The first few times you woke up beside him, it made you jump. You knew, consciously, that you hadn't spent all that much time on that dirty floor waiting to die - they kept giving you time to catch your breath, not pushing you far enough that it would kill you, like they were drawing it out - but it felt like you'd be there for the rest of your life. It was surprising to wake up in your bed with someone holding you. You panicked for a moment at first, broken ribs straining as you gasped shaky, scared breaths. But Joel held you gently and pressed his lips to your forehead and calmed you.

"Hey, you're OK Baby Doll," he whispered, soothing and soft. "Just me. I've got you, you're alright, you're safe. You're OK."

You calmed then, relaxing into his warmth and his touch while you had him.

Now you didn't need him to remind you where you were and that he was near but you are still surprised to find him in your bed. He'd been so clear before, it felt so true when he'd told you that you were nothing to him. But he is still there every day, even now that you can walk OK and don't need help with basic tasks anymore.

"Joel?" You ask quietly in the dark as you lay beside him, curled into his chest. You can feel his breath on your skin, his lips only inches away from your forehead. His fingers trail a slow, gentle path up and down your spine.

"Hm."

"You're still here."

He pulls back from you ever so slightly and you know he's probably frowning down at you before he adjusts again, somehow even closer this time.

"Don't want to be anywhere else."

"Really, it's OK, I don't..." you begin but he cuts you off.

"You're all I want," he says quietly. "First thing I've been able to want since... Since Sarah."

Your breaths still for a moment and you press yourself closer to him.

"If you ever want to talk about her," you say softly. "I'd like to know about her."

Joel is quiet, so quiet for so long that you think that's the end of the conversation. But it's not.

"Her name was Sarah," he takes a shaky breath. "She was the best thing that ever happened to me. Knew it, right away, the minute she was born that she was gonna be the best thing to ever happen to me. I was just a stupid kid at the time, not even 22 yet but that little girl... She was perfect. Absolutely perfect, 10 fingers, 10 toes, full head of hair from day one. Even her little cry was perfect. Hadn't meant to make her, her mom and I barely fuckin' knew each other, but she was just supposed to exist. She was. And her mom left a few months in, she had never wanted to be a mom, I should've seen it coming... but that was fine, it was just me 'n Sarah and that was fine. Better, really. Had to learn how to do her hair - she had these curls that went fuckin' everywhere and she got gum in it once and... Anyway. She was so smart, I got those damn baby books so I'd get an idea of what was coming but she kept beating all the milestones. I'm not sure where she got it from but kid was brilliant, reading before kindergarten even. She was just... she never held it against me that I had to work crazy hours and couldn't always be with her. She played soccer when she was little but she..." he laughs a little. "She was not an athlete, she kept trippin' over the ball. But she liked playing with her friends. She really liked music. Got that from me, I suppose, but she liked this pop stuff that I never got into. But it was better when she sang it. We loved to watch these shitty action movies all the time, they were so bad, she'd give this running commentary on 'em, she was so damn funny. Favorite thing to do was watch movies with her... We watched a movie, the night she died. Tried to, I guess, she fell asleep. I got home late... Should have just left work on fuckin' time, should have had the right fuckin' priorities...."

You trail your fingers through his hair gently, soothingly. He kisses your forehead again.

"Tommy got into trouble," he continues. "Landed in jail. I had to go bail him out. She fell asleep on the couch, I carried her to bed. Left her there like that and by the time I got back, the world had fallen apart. We got away from the house but we got in an accident and she couldn't walk. I... I was carrying her, some army fucker stopped us..." His voice is thick. You can feel the tears on his skin. "I should have turned, ran, set her down and attacked him, something. But I didn't, I just let 'em... He shot her. Shot us but she got the worst of it and she was gone in just a minute, just a minute..."

"Oh Joel," you breathe. "I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry, I can't even imagine..."

He takes a deep, shuddering breath and squeezes you.

"For a long time, I wanted to die, too," he says. "Still do, sometimes. But you... You're the first thing that's made me feel like I should still be here. You're the only thing that makes me feel like life is worth living. That scared the shit out of me for a long time. A long, long time. But not as much as seein' you on that floor, not as much as thinkin' you might die, too. I... I can't do that again, Baby Doll, I can't. Can't lose you, can't see you like that again. Gonna take care of you. You're the only place I want to be."

You sink into his touch then, understanding for the first time that you're not alone in this. Joel is always going to be next to you and, even though your body still hurts and you know there is plenty outside your door to fear, you're at peace.

[losersimonriley]

(So, this is fun for me so you're getting more short scenes via asks)

The loudspeaker on the train announced the next stop as Pelican Town. Ghost glanced at his one-way ticket. No, that wasn't quite right. He wasn't Ghost anymore. He was now retired. He was Simon, who moved across the country to escape the hectic city life and stress of a desk job that'd left him burnt out. He'd "inherited" a farm from his "grandfather" and finally decided to move away. That was the backstory witness protection had given him, together with a new civilian life.

He'd made it out of the military alive.

The train climbed an incline as he got his duffle bag out of the overhead compartment. Inside was all he'd left from his old life. That, and his first name. Everything else was gone. He could be a new man. Or likely not. He hoped his farm was somewhere outside of town. Interacting with any neighbors wasn't high on his list of things to do.

As the train slowed to a stop, he took in his surroundings. A stop in the middle of nowhere, one single roofed platform. Mountains on all four sides with a path leading down on the other side of the tracks. A single building that looked a little like a green house, that was just a little too big to actually serve that purpose. Lonely, Simon assessed. Just how he liked it.

He got off the train, ignoring the conductor's raised eyebrows. So, nobody much used this stop. Another point for the desolation he hoped to find. The helpful agent assigned to his case had given him a map, with his new home clearly marked and a few more annotations. Simon checked it again. Down the mountain, then a right, follow the path and he should be on his property.

It wasn't far. He didn't meet a single person, even though he spotted a yellow tent and a large house on his way. The farm itself looked abandoned. A long, long time abandoned. Weeds and trees grew everywhere, stones and boulders littered the ground between. He was barely able to make his way to the house, a rickety old structure that creaked in protest when he climbed up to the porch. At least the power was on inside, allowing him to turn on the lights. A table, two chairs, a tv and a bed. Modest, but at least he wouldn't need anything else for the start. There was also a chimney. That set his task for the rest of the day.

He poked around the house until he found an old tool cabinet. It only had worn looking basics, a hoe, a watering can, a pickaxe for some reason, a scythe and, finally, what he'd been looking for: an axe. He got to work cutting down one sickly looking tree. It felt nice to keep doing things with his own hands. Monotone, exhausting. Exactly what he needed to relax. Maybe he would take up fishing, too. There was a lot of water on his property.

Once he had enough wood to last him a while, he picked the driest pieces, stacking the rest in a lean-to that seemed made for that exact purpose. He lit a fire in the chimney. From his bag he took his old tea kettle, sooth crusted at the bottom from endless campfires already. He set it up over the fire. With the water, he made himself a cup of tea and rehydrated noodles with sauce for dinner, before he went to bed.

THE BEGINNING OF THE SDV AU HAS ARRIVED EVERYONE CALM DOWN

[sirwow]

Having some WC gameplay shower thoughts today about how i would actually make 5 captains work so time for a bit of a ramble.

though before i do ramble i wanted to do some clarification of the different parts of WC. The tag #pikmin wratihs call refers to the entirety of it- the story. When it comes to the theoretical gameplay tho theres 2 (or kinda 3?) different parts. First part is just Olimar and Louie being rescue corps members and generally being pretty similar to Pik 4 gameplay outside no oatchi. Second part follows Olimar, Louie, Alph, Brittany, and Charlie all returning to 404 as corps members with their own ship and the gameplay is pretty original outside the general skeleton of Pikmin gameplay. in between those is a koppai focused story but that would only work if it was a pikmin graphic novel game as there literally is only actual pikmin for about 1 page lmao.

Now then on to how Iv been thinking about making 5 captains work in the 2nd half of WC:

Essentially at the start of every day it starts off in the main ship and you choose how many captains you’re bringing out into the field. More captains the merrier obviously but when you bring one out there’s a major caveat. Each of the 5 captains don’t just do nothing while left behind, they have their own upgrades they develop over the day that they’re left on the ship! Some projects might take them multiple days but regardless they’re always working towards something in their own given fields.

Said fields for each goes as following:

Louie: Food! Louie for once actually gets to subject the others to his meals he makes and each one will give a different benefit for the day, starting simple with simply moving faster or having more health, up to his more ambitious meals that can have more extreme changes to the day with their own extreme draw backs (such as a food that makes a day 50% longer but every enemy in the area respawns) He has to perfect and collect the ingredients for said meals though so he needs the off time to do so

Alph: Suit/Gear upgrades. No raw materials required but time and patience is. The suits are only just now custom made since the urgency of this mission was so high and so he’s up to the task of gradually upgrading them on the mission.

Brittany: Onion and even Pikmin improvements. Her botany might as well be used to help the little plants that help them and so she’ll work towards safe ways to biologically improve the state of your onion and the pikmin that come out of it (Such as making it passively grow pikmin or even at a higher level, flower a few of the pikmin inside at the start of a new day)

Charlie: Physical training of the captains, basically like puppy point training but it’s timed instead. Running, swimming, jumping and hell even pulling things. Dw he’ll make the captains who were out for the day pull an all nighter to learn them /j

Olimar iv yet to come up with a good one yet.,. I thought maybe the ship but it would be stupid to force people to wait to go to a new area, especially thinking about my speedrunning chums. Treasure is still all you need for power.

This whole system is basically to encourage people to play with all the characters and really plan out the day ahead. Also a way of making each play through a bit different then the last as you could prioritize upgrading one thing over another.

Now then lastly I just have a few gameplay changes; Spicy spray will still effect all pikmin in play but will not flower them. Instead nectar puddles can be picked up if you so wish and eventually used in one large burst to flower all pikmin out on the field. Ice pikmin are nerfed- they can only freeze an enemy if eaten and otherwise will just slow down an enemy while attacking and have the same pitiful damage as winged pikmin. Purples are technically not nerfed but due to the new mechanic of carrying pikmin around in the pack to go up ledges and stay together easier, they have one downside of being stupid heavy on the captains. 100 carry weight pack can only carry 10 purples due to their weight. Whites now get a buff that will passively poison enemies over time depending on how much were on them and how long.

That’s all my thoughts atm, always open to questions about mechanics or anything else really. Currently still can’t draw bc of my hand tho so no doodle for ur time <\3

[the-possum-writes]

Hello!! Hope you are doing well! Can you do headcannons if Fern had a zombie partner? Have a good day :D

Finn with a Zombie Partner HC

❥Characters: Finn Mertens

❥Tags: sfw, zombie!reader, gender neutral

❥Taglist: @watchingfromthefloorboards @foxpearlwilder

❥ A/n: I've been doing better compared to last week, but I still have heavy days waiting for me. Anyways, I managed to squeeze this one out while I relax this Sunday, hope you have a nice day too!

❥ When Finn heard the candy citizens complaining about a zombie roaming the streets at night he knew he wanted to be the first one to kick it out.

❥ A few stake outs later both Finn and Jake followed your tracks and caught you trying to eat a candy house.

❥ It's understandable why you scattered at the sight of them, but they didn't chase you too far because your foot detached from your body and you fell face down into the chocolate dirt.

❥ You plead mercy, insisting that. "I didn't hurt anyone, I just have a sweet tooth!"

❥ As punishment for disturbing the peace, Bubblegum forced you to do social service in the candy kingdom either by going on missions for PB or helping the candy people. Finn and Jake volunteer to watch over you cause they don't trust you enough to leave you unattended with sentient candy.

❥ The candy people are creeped out by you too even though you try to help them. Mainly in simple tasks like helping the elderly cross the street, carrying heavy shopping bags for house wives/husbands, repairing the holes you made in the candy houses you ate. Pretty much slow and uninteresting things.

❥ Pb's missions are way more interesting. You're a bit more active at joining the two brothers during dungeon missions, basically serving as a tank for any monsters that get in the way. This is where you get to spend more time with the two brothers, and they start warming up to you as you take hits for them since your (technically) dead body can take mortal wounds without trouble.

❥ Of course, Finn is the one you end up interacting with the most.

❥ By the time you finally served you time with the Candy Kingdom you were free to hang out with Finn more often.

❥ Before you two go dungeon crawling, you spar with Finn a bit just for fun. Testing his attacks with different weapons like nun chucks and spears since stabs, hits and cuts don't do much to you.

❥ But as time goes on Finn soon starts disliking it when you get hurt. You could remind him you don't feel pain but he still feels uneasy when your arm gets tossed out somewhere.

❥ His ex is made of literal fire and he has felt attracted to pillow people and gum, before so he doesn't think much about it when he started crushing on you and your undead butt.

❥ Finn isn't one for what he considers "non boy-style" activities (at least when he's still a teen), but he shows a willingness to learn how to stitch and sew just to help you reattach your limbs when you take too much damage. Dang, like, he goes so far as to grave rob  for you, if you ever loose an arm or a leg because you lost it for good.

❥ Eventually Bubblegum offers to grow body parts for you in her lab because she kept getting complaints of grave robbing.

❥ Finn would later invite you on a proper date that doesn't having anything to do with missions or fighting monsters.

[elizabethliarz]

On the Rooftop

jumin pov, 1339 words

tw: child abuse/ neglect/ grooming (basically getting further into jumin's backstory)

---

I climb the steps briskly, two at a time, trying to shorten the task so I can get to her sooner. It isn’t like me to do such things, but since I felt my heart burst open I have been doing one strange thing after the next. I finally reach the door and step out onto the rooftop. A warm breeze brushes my cheek as I do. My eyes find her knelt down, patting down the dirt around a small plant. To my surprise she sees me before I get the chance to speak.

“Oh hi, honey,” she greets me.

She stands up and tries to brush a strand of hair out of her eyes with the back of her palm. I feel my heart flutter even at the small action. Reaching out, I tuck it back behind her ear. She smiles and looks down.

“Just a second”

She crouches down again and submerges her hands into a bucket of water. Her hands rub together to wash off the dirt that covered them. I notice her reflection in the water, she’s focused on her task with the early evening sky reflecting behind her. Then her eyes catch mine and she laughs. I realize, again, how much I rely on her for my happiness. Her laugh was the best thing I heard all day. Work felt cold, tired, and lonely. The only thing I could look forward to was seeing her. 

Loneliness, a sensation that follows me all my life. If I was actually alone or not it didn’t matter. In fact, it felt worse to have people around because it only reminded me of how I didn’t fit in. It feels like there's a tremble in my heart as I close my eyes. I’m trapped in a room with no way out. I shake my head trying to empty it, but before I know it I am a child once again.

I’m staring down at a worksheet of sums. The dark pencil marks stand out in contrast to the  slightly blurred memory. 

“Good job, Jumin! You catch on so quickly!”

The voice of my tutor rings in my right ear as I turn to look at him. He is smiling so much that his eyes crinkle behind the rectangular lenses of his glasses. 

“Thank you,” I reply.

“Why don’t we take a break since you have been working so hard?”

“I can do more. It isn’t difficult for me.” 

My tutor raises his eyebrows, “Wow, look at you! But I think it would be better to stop for now. Why don’t you get a snack or something to drink?”

I feel confused but I don’t say anything as I slide off the chair. I walk into the spotless kitchen, not quite sure what to do. I’m not particularly hungry, so I just get a glass of water. To my surprise I can hear my tutor talking in the other room.

“Yeah I’m still tutoring the C&R kid. I’ll be over soon. Yeah this kid’s too smart to need a tutor, but hey I’ll take the money. It’s not like his family is hurting haha. Hmm, well he’s a bit strange really. He doesn’t act like a kid, something’s off. But once again I’m just here to get paid, not be his psychologist.” 

I walk into the room and my tutor quickly hangs up. 

“Okay! Want to finish these last few problems, Jumin?” He offers with another big smile. 

I know he doesn’t like me.

I’m sitting in a car watching the city rush past the windows. Once again, I hear someone’s voice in my right ear, but this time it’s stepmother.

“Isn’t this nice getting a ride from school? I wish I had gotten such treatment when I was in school. Hey are you listening?”

I try to ignore her and focus on the sunny day outside, but then I feel her hand on my thigh.

“You’re getting so big and strong. Are these muscles from swimming class?”

“Please don’t touch me.” I mutter and angle my head forward for a moment.

I catch her displeased expression from the corner of my eye. I look out the window again.

“So cold as always. Really, Jumin? Is it so bad that I want to get close to you?”

Stepmother’s hand moves farther up my thigh and she leans closer.

“You don’t have to pretend to be indifferent to me. You must be lonely. I know how boys your age can get.”

The car slows to a stop at a light. I see a group of teenagers gathered outside an arcade. They’re laughing and jumping around. I want to break out of this car and go up to them. They would probably think I was strange, but maybe I could pretend to be like them for a while. Stepmother is still talking but I’m not listening. The image of the friend group at the arcade is burned into my mind long after we drive far away. 

Then I am staring at my mother hunching in a chair. Her dark hair is messy and she has bags under her eyes. Her chin is tucked into her palm as she stares off into nothing. I approach her slowly. She doesn’t move as I draw closer. I would have thought she was a statue, but I can see her breathing. 

“We have to write a poem about our family members' favorite thing for school. So I was wondering what your favorite thing is.”

My mother doesn’t say anything and all I can do is stand there. 

Finally she says “Go.”

“Is it okay to make something up since I don’t know-”

“Get out of my sight!”

For some godforsaken reason my legs don’t move.

Instead my mother finally looks at me and her lips curl in disgust.

“Why are you frowning at me? Are you trying to be such a nuisance? Write whatever you want, just leave! Oh god you’re crying now.”

She stands up from her seat and covers her face in her hands.

“God! I’m losing my mind. Just stop it, Jumin! Fine, here”

She grabs my arm and pulls me across the house. She stops at the basement door and pulls it open. 

“No, please don’t!” I shout and try to rip away from her grasp.

Of course, I can’t get away. She pushes me down. As I hit a stair, I catch her face glaring down at me. She doesn’t say a word and closes the door. The lock slides into place with a click and I’m left alone. There are toys lining the shelves that are supposed to be for me. All I do is stare down at my knees. Something is wrong with me, I think. I’m not normal. Other students knew what their mother’s favorite thing was as soon as the teacher asked. I was the only one who asked to take my assignment home. I must have fallen asleep on those steps for hours. I wake up when the maid opens the door to fetch me. 

“Your father is home from work, Jumin. He wants to see you.” the maid explains to me. 

“Jumin?”

“Jumin, are you okay, sweetie?”

Her hands grasp mine tightly and I see her looking at me. 

“What’s wrong? You look terrified.” 

A tight constriction seizes my throat and I swallow several times to clear it. I look around at the view around us. Skyscrapers of the city stand tall and the sun is just beginning to set. I can’t cry. It would be too embarrassing… but things feel different with her. I can be honest. I look back to the woman in front of me and bring her into my arms. The warmth of the person I love fits so perfectly in my arms. Tears well up and run down my face. She rubs my back soothingly. I notice she is holding me just as tightly as I am holding her.

“I’m here, Jumin. I’m here. You are not alone.”

---

an- this has been sitting in my google docs for literally years. it is the only fanfic i am proud of (and i've written many that are also collecting dust like this one was). it was inspired by a poem i came across and have since lost. i wrote this before jumin's bad after ending came out and i personally prefer the headcanons i had for jumin's biological mother. not a fan of the bad after ending in general, but i may rant about that some other time. the main five of the rfa have a special place in my heart, even after all this time

thank you for reading <3

[xbeezchaos]

BPD! Scaramouche pt.3

A/N:Y’all are eating this up and I like writing this so here you go. Today we’ll be focusing on two specific symptoms of bpd. Self image and disassociation episodes. How he experiences them (not really. A good chunk is my own experience) and things he does.

Notes: scara x reader, no pronouns used, you helping him through these different episodes and emotions, cuddles, pet names , etc.

He often goes from this depressed and disassociated state:

Staring off blankly at everything and inspecting his surroundings

He ca. be very irritable and snappy with basically everyone because he’s in what he calls “The void”

Touching, hitting and pulling at his clothes, skin and body parts because he cannot fathom how he’s a solid being

Everything being loopy, twisted and feeling distant from him

Having irritability due to how slow everything feels. Even when it’s not slow. To him the worlds in agonizing slow motion

Everything being too loud or too quiet

“Sweetheart, can you pass me my headphones?” He’d hold his arm out, patiently waiting for you to hand them to him.

Not being able to pick up or hold many or a single conversation for hours to days at a time

Struggling to get out of bed or complete tasks

“My love, come back. I need you in my arms, please.” He’d practically whined out the last word.

“You know I’d love to but then good going to make sure that gorgeous face eats and drinks anything at all today if I don’t?” You kissed the top of ups head and left the room to go Make breakfast for you two

Sense of time being jumbled and confusing to him. So he uses way more timers and alarms.

You help by trying to run bu the same schedule. Setting the same alarms so you could shoot him a text to make sure he was on track with his day.

If he was he’ll text you back a long message about wanting to kill someone or himself. Sometimes both or in order of some sort of plan he’s devised on his breaks.

You find it funny and concerning how a simple comment would trigger him to say the most in response.

“Eat rocks and die.” Then he’ll proceed to ignore everyone with his noise canceling headphones on blast.

To this self image crisis and Euphoric mindset;

Cutting/dying his hair cause he realized how good he’ll look with the new image he has for his hair.

I mean. Do you think someone else besides himself picked and did that haircut?

Of course he’ll eventually ask for your help once too much damage has been done. But you’ve grown very skilled with fixing his hair

Getting new piercings. He will think on it first then do it as long as he has money ofc.

Loves getting his tongue pierced. Even if it took a few days before he could talk right again

Buying tons of things he may not need or use later

Likes spoiling you too. It can range from big to small things. Whatever he can think of to make you happy.

He loves the rush he gets when he sees the new things he has or how happy he makes you with the gifts.

Will last from hours to minutes so please be ready for him to come down from it.

Gets tattoos. And will bring you along, so you watch as the excitement slowly morphed into euphoria and he begins to shake and bite at the skin on his nails

How else did he get the gorgeous marks that illuminate in the dark?

He likes having you touch his tattoos once they’re fully healed.

Makes impulsive travel plans and follows through with them.

Tries new makeup or style or something to alter his appearance

Has constant thoughts of not feeling like he’s really himself. More of somebody else impersonating the real version of him.

Can’t look at himself for too long in pictures or the mirror for too long because in his words “that’s not me. It looks like me but something is seriously off. And I don’t like it.”

“I need to be. Not me. I’m doing too well and I’m tempted to fuck that up.” He says that a lot. Mainly to himself but on occasion you’ll overhear

Take his phone, laptop, wallet and whatever else away because he can and will but shit and dive into his savings without a second thought

“Cmon. It’s to cope! I deserve it!”

“Really? What you deserve is a fucking nap, let’s go!”

He proceeds to fight his way from sleeping while you lay your full body weight on him to keep him pinned to the bed with all of his electronics besides the tvs locked in another room

When he came down from this euphoric feeling. He was lucky to have you there because more often than not. He’d start crying.

Note!!!!:So that’s all I can think of right now and I don’t proof read but I’m hoping you guys love this one just as much as the last. If there’s anything else you wanna see or bpd Scara travel on to my ask box cause I’m running out of ideas.