#decided to just do a landscape today instead of people

[galeorderbride]

The Forest For The Trees - Fic Request (Gale x F!Tav)

A Gale smut piece requested by one of my OG readers @meglet1. Thank you so much for the request and for being you in general!! I seriously hope you like what I’ve written for you <3

18+ MDNI (This is SMUT/tags below)

Summary:

After Tav is nearly killed in a fight at Rivington Beach, Gale lets his fear get the best of him and a new couple spat ensues. Leading to a peaceful resolution :)

Tags: PiV sex, semi-public sex, inappropriate use of mage hand, oral sex (m and f receiving, including some choking), words of praise/encouragement, creampie, fingering (vaginal & anal), multiple orgasms, self-indulgent, some references to Tav having body issues.

Word count: 4.7K

Mind the tags, everyone. Fic below the cut:

“I decided to choose you and live, then you go off and almost get yourself killed!”

Gale wasn’t the type to air out his issues in front of everyone, but this time, he couldn’t shake the nervous energy off. Panic and anxiety of balancing on an uneven precipice, powerless. Just days ago, he chose to stay with Tav instead of doing as Mystra commanded him, deep in that haunting colony, where the Elder Brain resided and, because he decided to live, remained a threat to the entire Sword Coast.

Less than an hour ago, he and Tav returned from the beaches of Rivington with their companions. Running into a gaggle of rival gangs ready to slaughter each other. The guild, run by the infamous Nine Fingers Keene, and the new recruits of this Stone Lord everyone was talking about. Gale cared little for whose alliance went where. Not when Tav had decided to intervene right in the middle of things, doing her best to settle scores and ending up having to fight both of them.

In the crossfire, Tav was hit with an electrified weapon, a hammer imbued with thunderous damage effects that nearly killed her with the impact against her spine. Knocked down, she spent the remainder of the fight unconscious, no one having time to revive her until they’d finished the fight. Across a landscape of crime syndicate corpses, Gale watched with intensity as Shadowheart struggled to revive her. The image of her near dissolved heartbeat still aching within him, harsher than the orb. Gasping for breath at the last second when he thought he lost her forever.

She’d regained balance quickly, the powerful healing of Selune now imbued within Shadowheart’s fingers, even if she hadn’t quite gotten to admit it yet. Tav was walking normally, a little fatigued but nothing more than that. Which gave Gale the opportunity to stop being worried for her welfare and be upset instead.

“Do you know how close you came to death? How much I worried Shadowheart wouldn’t revive you? All for a bunch of criminals who would’ve cared for the dirt under their boots more than you!” Gale exclaimed as he paced around the hay shed at their camp outside Rivington. Tav followed, arms across her chest as she tried to contain a frustrated sigh.

“I wasn’t trying to get all of them against us. How many times has convincing people to cool their heads worked on this journey? Times we never expected! I didn’t think this would be an exception,” she replied, her voice soft but assertive in her own defense.

“That’s what happens when you expect things to work in your favour! We can never assume anything is an absolute certainty, and I’ve been saying this from the beginning. I know it’s in your nature to stick your neck out for people, but do recall that I gave up on what might be the heaviest task of my life so I could be with you!” Gale continued, letting his panic get the better of him.

Tav’s eyes widened, now no longer trying to placate. “Don’t you use that against me! My encouragement to have you stay with me is not a blank check to use against me when I do something you dislike. I asked you to stay because I love you! And I had no intention of starting a fight today, nor did I plan to end up in the state I did!”

This was around when the rest of the camp began to hear them arguing. Frigid looks turned their way by Shadowheart, Karlach and Wyll. Eyerolls and mischievous scoffing from Astarion. Jaheira simply shook her head and mumbled ‘young love’ under her breath. Gale pretended not to hear it.

She looked at him with such offense, eyes dotted with the threat of tears from his fury. Any motivation to be cross with her slowly waning each time his eyes met hers.

“I love you too! Which is why I’m so off put by what happened to you. I don’t want to see you putting yourself in danger and disregarding forethought! I don’t think you understand just how much I can’t—”

Gale didn’t finish the sentence, brought on by a fear that he’d overwhelm her in saying such an intense thing. They’d confessed their love in a spur of the moment, when the culmination of all they’d been through was knocking at the front door. Emotions were high, and while he meant every word he said, he didn’t want to cross a line and compromise the start of a wonderful thing with Tav. Deep down, he’d loved her from the moment he saw her, and each day he got closer to admitting that out loud. Precisely why he reacted with such fear to what happened at the beach.

Tav crossed her arms, an expression of seriousness he’d never seen before. Well, not directed at him.

“Can’t what? Don’t let this be the time you don’t use your words, Gale. Because I am this close to storming off,” she said, pinching her index finger and thumb together in an impatient motion.

“I can’t…live without…you,” he said, his voice starting loud and then slowly quieting as he completed the sentence.

The two of them stopped short, silence washing over them as his words sank into both their minds. Memories of their first night together flooding back, when he showed her everything he could offer. A beautiful experience in the Outer Planes, where their souls entwined within currents of raw weave. Expressing their new love in countless ways, too many for one evening, but they did all they could. Loving, tender, but despite it all, not real. Not bodies together, the physical exertion of passionate, violently yearning intimacy. Just what Gale became tempted with after he spoke those long awaited words, as the anger melted from his system and replaced itself with carnality.

There wasn’t time for Tav to respond. Astarion cut in with his usual mocking tone. “Would you two get a damned room? Your voices are grating and I’m trying to enjoy a nice glass of wine I stole from Last Light.”

“I knew that bottle was familiar!” Jaheira cried out, no longer paying attention to Gale and Tav.

Tav sighed, bothered by the chiding of their companions. She felt on the spot, watched in all the wrong ways. Gale gently grabbed her arm.

“Come over this way,” he demanded, short and impatient. Quite possibly the briefest she’d ever heard him speak.

He pulled her away from the camp, a short but fair distance from their companions. Clusters of bushes and broken trees began to fill the space as he brought her forward. The sun was setting above them, hues of paradisiacal magenta and orange above them, beaming through the shaking leaves. Tav didn’t have much time to gaze upon the natural beauty, for Gale led her as if running to safety.

“Gale, where are you taking me?! You’re pulling too much, I’m going to lose my balance,” Tav questioned.

A few seconds went by, Tav’s curiosity getting the better of her as she’d never seen him so flustered. Trees surrounded them, but not enough to block the bustling city lights of Rivington on one side and the fire of their camp on the other. Voices of Karlach and Lae’zel talking could still be heard from the distance they stood. Tav had never been to this side before, but Gale had a way of making her feel safe no matter where.

“Come here, love,” he said, his arms moving to hook around her waist as he pushed her gently against a large tree.

She had little time to take a breath before his lips were on hers, soft but with an ardent passion once resting in bubbling irritation, now sprouting into lust. Their bodies pressed together, hips against hips as Tav began to melt into his wandering touch. Her knees nearly buckled when his index finger grazed the ridge of her jaw, tongue caressing her own. Temptation to run her fingers through his wondrous hair was too great, that strange sensation of a near death if she didn’t, silken texture on her skin enough to forget about everything they argued about.

But his words hung loose in her mind, and she pulled out of the kiss for a moment. Their faces still centimetres apart as she whispered, “I can’t live without you either. I’m sorry I wasn’t careful.”

Gale rubbed his nose against hers, that playful, breathy grin plastered on his face. “Let’s just look out for each other, alright? It’s so easy to get ahead of oneself, and I love you too much to watch idle by and pray you know the risk. You are a powerhouse of might, my love, but neither of us is invincible.”

“I know, I know,” she said in a hushed tone, so whisper thin the crickets chirped louder. Night fell fast, unburdened by clouds and blanched with a sea of stars. Everything was perfect, a moment in time that both of them longed for since their first time together. Opportunities never coming soon enough as their arduous adventures took precedence over everything. Now was the time, when the sky’s darkness masked them from the rest of the world’s troubles.

Gale answered with peppering kisses down Tav’s neck, shivering at the supple softness against such a sensitive area. For the first time since before Mystra, he wanted something purely physical—mortal. Covered in the finite flesh of his new love, giving pieces of themselves as a simple reminder that they remained alive. He’d forgotten the lure of that desire, powerful and impossible to satiate without going the full way, being as close to Tav as humanly possible.

Cracked bark scratched the itches of Tav’s back, pressed ever harder with each kiss from neck to collarbone. Desire budding at the touch points of her body; at the tip of her breasts, the heat of her ears, the tingling between her legs. Those parts growing more swollen with want when she felt the brush of his palms around her waist, fingertips dipping under the hem of her shirt to tickle her lower stomach. They were like teenagers sneaking around behind a schoolyard, eyes darting back and forth to make sure no one saw them enjoy each other. A thrill long forgotten on both sides.

“Gale, won’t someone hear us? We’re still close to camp,” Tav said between laboured, lustful breaths.

“With all we’ve been through, I highly doubt they care. But to ease your anxieties,” Gale replied, waving his hand to create a violet purple dome around them, “A silencing spell.”

“Perfect,” she said.

With a quick maneuver, Gale unclipped the belt of her wrapped shirt, slowly folding the fabric over her shoulders. He took his time, relishing in the pull of cloth from skin, little reveals each second until she bore herself bare to him. A maroon brasier remained, almost black under the moonlight and slipping low. Enough to catch a glimpse of her nipples, begging to spring free from constriction. Meanwhile, Gale spread her longer shirt across the ground, using clothes as a makeshift bed—if not to remedy the future ache of his knees. He unwrapped his robes as well, left only in a white, linen shirt and trousers.

He could hardly concentrate, the beauty of Tav under the moonlight too transfixing to not stare upon. Fitted perfectly in her under clothes, the rise and fall of her chest teasing him without trying. Watching like she didn’t notice, but she did, and began to strip for his pleasure. Removing the straps of the bra first, slow against her shoulders, the perk of her breasts peeking out before the clasp snapped free. Gale stood before her, watching with a subtle grin.

“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Tav. Do you know how much? How I ache to the point of fever when graced with your presence?” He asked, voice dark with lust, a gruffness she didn’t hear when in the Outer Planes.

“Even as I am? No magic or beautiful strands of starry weave around me? Surely this can’t be as exciting as that time,” she said, not intending to be self conscious, but failing to keep that in check. Not a goddess, not a higher being in the form of a body, but just herself. Scars, blemishes, bad angles and all. Mortal in all the wrong ways.

“As you are is more than anything the weave could offer. Having you naked under the moon like this is a memory embedded in my mind for eternities to come,” he said, stepping over to her to help unbutton her pants. He ensured his fingers touched every part, no matter where, and his breath against her neck warmed and cooled.

“Oh, my, you give me no chance with words like that,” she said.

Between bountiful, romantic kisses, the rest of their clothes were discarded into the flattened pile. Too impatient to go somewhere with room to conjure a full bed, absorbed in the embrace of each other as they fell into the fabric. Tav straddled his waist, lowering down so she could still glide her tongue against his. Never wishing to part her lips from his for the rest of the night. Craving the push of his hands embedded in her skin, down her spine and over the hill of her ass, ending with a firm squeeze.

Not a single part of her didn’t feel something. Her nipples gliding against his chest hair, hardening them in seconds with the playful tingle at the tips. His hands finding purchase, amused enough to spank the right cheek with a hard enough force to have her yelp giggle and yelp out loud. And that irresistible grind of his growing erection pushing against her core, hastier than himself, simply begging to push into that tight, unoccupied hole. Just the beginning, and yet she already preferred being together like this, fully in tandem with each other, nothing but their beating hearts and heated bodies.

Eventually, both of them needed to take a breath, locked in a heated make out for a time they lost count of. Tav lifted her body up, back arched in pleasure as Gale followed teeth-first. Biting, sucking, licking her nipples, each side deserving of his equal attention. Delicate moans grew into hot, heavy woes of passion, caring little for noise control with the purple dome of silence above them. Saliva trailed down her breasts, her wizard so lost in the ecstasy of tasting those pink, round buds. Hugging her in his arms, moving his cock against her to feel the head getting wetter with her slick.

Tav whispered in his ear, fingers tangled in his hair, “Perhaps I should get into danger more often, if this is the consequence.”

Gale chuckled, muffled by the slide of his tongue around her earlobe, “No need. Should you want my services, all you have to do is ask. Nicely. With a very eager ‘please’. Now, I am on the precipice of sliding into you this instant. But I’d have you come first.”

Hands firm on her ass, he pushed her forward, legs buckling over as he laid down. Angling himself so her core hovered over his face as he continued, “On my mouth, darling.”

Unable to contain her giggles, she adjusted her legs to straddle the sides of his face. Too gradual for Gale as he grabbed her hips and pulled her down. Tav gasped from the heavenly sensation, his lips and tongue all over her pussy in seconds, nodding his jaw up and down to stimulate her slit with his stubble. His tongue moved with expert precision, letting Tav take control of the pace as he moaned into her cunt, slurping and sucking at her as if drowning himself in her essence. There wasn’t enough lip biting and stifled moans in the world to keep her from building up to a snapping orgasm, inch by inch as she swivelled her hips around his face. His nose jutted against her pubic bone, mouth focused entirely on her swollen clit, pushing her down to ensure she wouldn’t move away. Even as her inner thigh muscles shook with pleasured tremors.

Tav stuttered out, “Holy fu…ck…Gale, I’m s-so close. Keep going, keep going! Now, yes, now!”

At that point, she was using any superlative her blurred mind could conjure. An orgasm flowered within her, strong, hot and never felt in a very long time. She clawed his hair under her legs, twitching hips riding out a wet climax, dripping into his beard. A taste he’d never get enough of, buttery and sweet on his tongue. He’d be happy to suffocate under her in a bid to have her finish again.

Coming down wasn’t an option, continuing to flick his tongue against her clit even as her muscles relaxed. Sensitivity stung at her pussy, sharp hits of pleasure shining through with each feral moan he made. A sound so enticing, she melted for him, allowing his hands still on her ass to push her further forward, rear completely up. Behind her, he snapped his fingers, figments of magic beckoning around her in a light blue glow. Tav could barely pay attention, lost in the feeling of his tongue lapping at her cunt. Until two fingers pushed into her entrance, filling her quick but smooth in an electrified vibration. A mage hand, finger fucking her from behind. Taking her to a place of impossible pleasure, no choice but to let go.

As Gale sucked at her clit, muffled words came from below her, “Does that feel nice, my love? Can you cum all over my face again? That’s it, let the hand fuck you, good girl.”

“Gods above, Gale, I’m so sensitive! But fuck it feels so good!” She exclaimed, whimpering with each buck of her hips against his mouth, the hand following every angle so not a centimetre pulled out. Pumping into her tight walls, angling in just the right direction to have her shaking for a second climax.

“Let me help you even more,” Gale said, motioning his wrist to command the mage hand to push its thumb at the entrance of her asshole. Prodding in and out, gently easing in enough to thrust in the same rhythm as the fingers, slick sounds of sex invading her ears. She gasped at the hot tightness, cunt thoroughly stimulated in every way. It was perfect, hitting every spot just how she liked, and some she didn’t know existed. Gale was simply eager to please, laughing slyly as he felt her orgasm again.

Tav quaked at her second finish, overwhelmed with searing ecstasy. She cried out, “I can’t take it anymore, please! Too—too sensitive.”

The mage hand vanished with her command, easing the pressure of overstimulation palpating in her veins. Gale couldn’t resist one, soft kiss on her clit before letting her move off of him. Without her body to focus on, the ache of his rock hard cock snapped into awareness. Precum dotting the head, so stiff he feared it might break at the gentlest touch. Proven wrong when Tav brought her lips down to the tip, licking off the salty cum. Giving him a taste of his own medicine as he shivered in sensitive rapture. Both of them had a tendency to get carried away, as what was meant to be a simple tease with her tongue led to her taking his cock into her mouth. Using her hand to pump at the bottom of the shaft, too big to go all the way down.

Choking and sucking sounds filled the air as Gale writhed under the mercy of her mouth. Running her hand up and down his bare thigh, hypnotized by the lusty song of his satisfied whimpers. He wanted to tell her this wasn’t necessary, he enjoyed seeing her enjoyment. But as her throat coated his cock, he was rendered speechless. More so when she bobbed her head up and down, moaning through her nose as he gently joined her by fucking her mouth. Small, quick thrusts in fear of hurting her, but enough to make his calf muscles strain.

Spit and precum doused his cock as she lifted him out of her mouth, a raunchy ‘pop’ sound coming from her lips. Gale’s shaken, pleasured sighs covered the forest, stimulated by the cold air kissing the wet surface of his raised erection. Tav fawned over how it glistened, her core pulsing and tightening with the silent beg to be filled. Surely, she’d pass out if he wasn’t inside her immediately.

Gale exhaled deeply, shaking his head with unfathomable joy. “You will be the death of me. That felt…so good. I don’t even know how to describe it.”

She smiled, failing to contain the blush on her face. How she loved to know he was already satisfied. “We’re not done yet, my love.”

Her leg hooked back over his waist, straddling him again. This time, angling the opening of her cunt right against the desperate head of his thick cock. He looked so beautiful below her, gleaming with sweat and rosy with anticipation. Fingertips tickling up and down the sides of her thighs. Gods, when he laughed, that lusty chuckle of boiling desire had her foolish in his arms. She chased that sound, easing down on his cock until he bottomed out inside her. The stretch and slick of her walls fluttering around him forcing a high pitched whimper from her. Clit shuddering at the sensation of little hairs against it, nearly orgasming right there. Never had she wanted someone so much, craved another’s touch in a way she didn’t know was possible until meeting him. Everything about him was magnificent.

“Moan for me, love. I want to hear your every sound as I fuck you,” Tav demanded, locking her palms on his chest as she began to ride him. Fast, fervently, hips bucking back and forth so good he obeyed instantly. Husky, sultry, moans and even guttural growls with each grind of her pussy against him.

One hand stayed on her thigh and the other kneaded at her breast, his thumb flicking and pinching her nipple while her languid movements continued. By now, he could see when she was close, biting down on her lip to concentrate as she ignored her aching muscles. More warmth and wetness dripped along his cock. He nodded to her, let her use him as a toy for her own pleasure, moving pieces of hair from her face at the same time.

“Let me see you cum again, please. That’s it, ride my cock like that. So wet for me, I can’t believe it. Keep going, yes, very good. You’re doing so well,” he said, words of encouragement coming with his thumb moving to her clit. Rubbing the spot he learned she liked, just a little assistance in getting her over that impossible edge.

Tav’s body cramped up as she squeezed onto his cock, crying out Gale’s name as her third climax ripped through her lower half, felt even at the tingling peak of her breasts. He could’ve done anything in that moment, came anywhere he liked, and she’d be fine with it. Her orgasm all the stronger as she pictured being covered in him from face to pussy. A debauched mess on top of clothes, fully vulnerable to him.

Seeing her above him brought his own release closer. Unable to wait as he pulled her torso down to kiss her hard, pushing his tongue into her mouth with reckless abandon. Tav yelped playfully as they kissed, paralyzed by the ecstasy of being fucked into. Sore, sensitive and hedonistic, she relished in the hard thrusting and the heated touch of their perspired bodies together. Wishing this would never end but craving his release inside her at the same time.

She left the kiss to whisper in his ear, biting his earlobe, licking at him, “Finish inside me. Please, I want it so bad.”

“Oh, gods, Tav I’m going to—right…ah!” He groaned out the unfinished sentence, his impatient cock spilling inside of her tight hole. He pulsed within her, feeling his spine arch as he experienced likely the greatest orgasm he’d ever had. Reaching his entire body, lasting longer, an addicting taste of eternal paradise. Tav’s soft whimpers the final touch to the most wonderful feeling.

She moved off of him, laying flat with her legs open. Gale still felt trickles of desire in his stomach, not enough to get hard again so quickly, but enough to lean over her thoroughly fucked cunt. His breath warmed her skin as he caressed his tongue along her clit, letting his index finger rub her cum-filled entrance as he did. All she could do was wheeze, too tired for a full moan but adoring the feeling of his mouth on her again. He was gentle this time, careful not to bring out the growing soreness. No, he just softly licked, kissed and sucked at her clit, stomach sinking with carnal intrigue as he watched his cum dripping out of her. He wanted to mark his territory, give her one more orgasm to be certain she knew she was his. Even just a little one.

Tav concentrated with the full power of her exhausted mind, feeling herself ready to climax once more. She couldn’t believe how skilled he was, moaning his name out again as he pinched her lips together, pushing her clit further into his mouth. That, mixed with the amazing sensation of his cum inside of her, was enough to inch her into that little release. Her fingers clutching his hair, pulling slightly as she came for a fourth time. A tiny bit more of his seed poured out of her as she relaxed.

“Perfect,” he said, leaving her core and moving to lay beside her, “You are amazing. I can’t believe you’re real sometimes.”

Tav smiled, cuddling into the crux of his shoulder, “I should be the one to say that. No one’s ever been so attentive to me. And by the gods, I have never finished that many times.”

“Oh, my love, I am excited to inform you that wasn’t even all I can do. If I had you in a bed, with a private bathroom, different corners of the room to take you in; you’d have at least six, I’d make sure of it,” he replied.

“In that case, we must find an inn as soon as possible,” she replied, kissing his cheek as he scooped her body closer to him.

They cuddled for a few minutes more, letting the cool, night air dry their sweat-drenched bodies before returning to camp. Hand-in-hand, eyes doled with the fire of new romance and the comedown from lovemaking. What began as the rising moon, evening pink with sunset, had transformed into deep night, pleasantly dark and glinting with fresh, sparkling stars. Neither of them wished for a conclusion, but sleep beckoned and they had no idea what might happen tomorrow. Tav only knew that she’d refrain from taking too many risks, as now she’d become a fool for someone else entirely.

Gale and Tav agreed to share a tent tonight, and from now on. First, she went to the smouldering fire to grab a piece of sunmelon and her water canteen. The rest of the camp now silent as everyone retired for the evening, except for their most nocturnal companion: Astarion. Who had returned from the other side of the woods, pallid complexion brighter than usual, a sign that he just fed on an animal.

“Good hunt?” She asked, finishing off the last bite of her sunmelon piece and throwing the peel in the fire.

“Never as good as the real thing, darling, but enough to tide me over. Perhaps I should’ve saved some for you, tired little adventurer,” he replied, brow raised in that cheeky expression. Always present when he was about to take the piss out of someone.

“Fruit and water will suit me fine. Goodnight, Astarion,” she replied, turning to head for Gale’s tent.

Astarion spoke as she walked away, “By the way, remind your wizard to maintain his silencing concentration. If I’m going to hear your debauchery, I’d rather hear it from the beginning and not halfway through. Goodnight, Tav!”

Tav cleared her throat, swallowing down her growing embarrassment as she walked to Gale’s tent. Knowing fully well what kind of teasing she’d endure the next morning. For now, she would simply sleep in Gale’s arms and deal with the rest as they came.

[khristie16]

Your daddy Carlos paid for your visit to Paris as a birthday present for you and in order to make it better, he travels to you to show a side of himself not many people know

Warnings: just sweet asf

Based on this request ^^ : Meow

I’ll pick you up at seven at your place;)

You just were at your solo trip to Paris to explore the city you’ve always wanted since you were a kid. And today you were supposed to see your boyfriend. Just last week you had your birthday and Carlos made you decide on what you wanted for the gift. You liked jewelry and beautiful piece of clothes but you were really feeling to go travelling instead and that is why you’re right now in a fancy hotel at 15 place Vendôme.

Carlos wanted to spend your birthday with you and had a nice plan to visit you on your last two days to enjoy the time together.

You’ve put the last pieces to your fabulous outfit and waited for Carlos to arrive, already excited about what he planned for the two of you. You cannot wait much longer to see his beautiful big brown eyes and get lost in the warmth of them, as now when you finally meeting him in front of his car waiting for you. You kissed softly as he had a hold on you laying his hand on your waist to keep you close to him. You chuckled at his actions scratching your nails on the back of his neck. He groaned in response and closed his eyes.

“I missed you”

You smile and plant a kiss on his right cheek.

“Me too”

Smile was the first thing he saw after opening his eyes again and the light sparkled in them it warmed your heart.

“Let’s go”

Carlos opened the doors for you to hop in and be excited about what’s to come.

After few minutes the engine turned down and it made you wonder why you’re stopping. You turned your head to your handsome boyfriend to get some answers.

He was already smiling. “We’re here already”

The air outside was getting colder with each passing second as it was early spring. You hugged your arms and looked around. The moment you realised where he took you, he was already reading your mind and responding to you.

“I hope you haven’t been there yet?”

You shook your head with a smile on your lit up face.

Goosebumps on your skin disappeared the minute you went inside and walked together through the security X-ray.

“I didn’t know you liked art?”

A soft smile on his face and eyes on the floor signalled you it was not something he talks about much and your curiosity with this fact only grew. He had to chuckle to see you that way because he loved your curious nature.

“I’ve actually studied Art History back in home”

Your mouth fell open as you couldn’t put Carlos and Art together, but you closed it as soon as it opened so he doesn’t feel bad he told you. He just shook his head and shrugged.

“Let me show it to you my way”

Light beautiful decorations all around the space you two were right now standing in made you feel like you’re breathing a different type of air in here and lift you up with a different energy you immediately sensed all the possible symbolisms and meaning displayed on the canvas.

“That’s Luig Loir”

He nodded towards the painting on his right.

“Loir was a master of capturing everyday scenes with a touch of enchantment. Notice how his use of vibrant colors and soft brushstrokes brings life to the bustling streets and tranquil landscapes.”

You take a look properly on the painting and try to concentrate on those colors and contrast they give. You tilt your head slightly to see more.

“Do you like it?”

He suddenly asked you which made you frown and wonder where the urgency came from. When you looked at him you saw a slight worry on his face.

“Y-yes of course! It’s a masterpiece.”

You’ve heard a light sigh left his lips and his composure relaxed a bit.

“Whether it's a bustling Parisian street corner or a peaceful countryside vista, his attention to detail draws you into it and you can see how effortlessly he worked with lights and shadows”

You cannot hold back yourself to observe Carlos instead because you’ve never seen him like this. It made you feel intrigued?

“Does it make you feel anything ?”

Answer came to your conscious as you narrowed your eyes some more back on the painting.

“It all look so slow and simple. I feel kinda nostalgic to be honest.”

With the last words you snapped to him as if waiting to be corrected from your teacher. He smirked a little and nodded. You felt immense sense of pride filling your veins and you had to blush for yourself. Damn this guy is so much more than he let you know.

“In essence, Luig Loir's style can be described as a harmonious blend of realism and romanticism, capturing the beauty and charm of everyday life with a touch of poetic flair.”

His warm eyes landed on yours with a serious undertone.

“That’s why I like you. You’re like a piece from this old man. Real yet charming as the fairytale itself”

His broad shoulders were now facing you and closing the distance between the two of you. His hands cupped your face. Your eyes on contrary were wide open with so much admiration for this man and for the way he makes you feel. The presence of his eyes on your lips made you lick them.

“No, baby”

Frown appeared on your face, searching for answers in his warm eyes.

“If I kiss you, I won’t be able to stop.”

You bite your lower lip because you’re a brat that likes to play with your daddy Carlos. And he loves it. His low groan and amusement in his voice made you melt and wetter by the passing second as his scent filled your nostrils and let your imagination run wild as all those paintings here.

[sixhours]

happy birthday, baby girl - camping

Ellie has never had a birthday. Joel can fix that.

Series masterlist | Read on AO3 | In progress

Rating: Teen Chapter tags: The Last of Us, The Last of Us (HBO), Joel and Ellie, Ellie Williams, Joel Miller, birthdays, swearing, canon-compliant, angst, implied past alcohol abuse/alcoholism Words: 7.1k

Notes: A bunch of birthday one-shots loosely based on this headcanon. This might be a five-times/one-time fic in disguise, it hasn't decided yet.

They walk out of Jackson at dawn. For four months, they’ve lived behind the protection of a steady rotation of guards and patrols and reinforced walls. Safe and sound, but Jackson is only so big, and Ellie can’t help but feel a little claustrophobic. Even if she doesn’t have to share her room with another FEDRA brat, even if there are no bodies hanging in the public square, even if Jackson smells like fresh-cut grass and woodsmoke and pine trees instead of piss.

No, Jackson is not Boston, not by a long shot. But it’s not the walls that have her feeling smothered. She’s not used to having so many people see her. Joel and Tommy and Maria and teachers and friends and neighbors; so many people who care where she is and what she’s doing and who she’s doing it with. There are rules to follow, schedules to keep, a community that expects her to contribute.

It’s fucking suffocating if she thinks about it too hard.

Today, not twenty feet outside the walls with Joel at her side, she takes what feels like her first deep breath in weeks.

“You okay, kid?”

“Yeah…fine. Just…it’s different than I remember.”

He blinks into the sun-drenched landscape, autumn just starting to tease the tops of the trees into a golden glow. It’s all familiar ground to him. He leaves the compound regularly for patrols and tells her about what they find at the end of his shifts–not a whole hell of a lot, usually.

But today it’s just the two of them, on foot, with a few supplies and a surprise destination of Joel’s in mind. She’s tried to harass it out of him without any luck.

“Is it…a lake?”

“Nope.”

“A racetrack?”

“Nope.”

“Is it a spaceship?”

This elicits a wry glance over his shoulder, at least. “Nope.”

“Umm…is it the ocean?”

“Kid, when was the last time you looked at a map?”

“When was the last time the maps were updated? For all you know, there could be a whole sea on the other side of those mountains now.”

“It ain’t the ocean, and I’m not tellin’, so you may as well stop askin’,” he says, but she knows he doesn’t really mind her questions.

His backpack and guitar are slung on his back, leaving her to carry the rifle. He has a small cooler in one hand and a walking stick in the other, something Tommy found and carved and sanded smooth. He’d promised to make Ellie one of her own this winter when construction work slowed down.

“How long does it take to get there?”

“Five hours, give or take.”

“And you’ve been through here before?” she asks, hoping her voice doesn’t betray her nerves. They’re walking through thick forest on a rough path, pock-marked with hoofprints from recent patrols.

“Yep. Meant to take you out here this summer but your cousin had other ideas,” he mutters. “Think you’ll like it.”

She shrugs.

“Figured it’s been a lot, these last few months,” he continues. “What with school…the new baby. New…everythin’, really. Thought we could use some time to, uh…I dunno. Talk. Just you an’ me. Like old times.”

Old times .

It’s a funny phrase under the circumstances, but it fits. It’s only been a year since Riley died, since Marlene found her in the mall, since she met Joel. Ellie felt like she’d lived a million lives in that time, like she’d stepped through a portal like Daniela Starr and wound up in an alternate reality. Even in her wildest dreams, she never could have predicted this. Never thought she’d survive a bite, that she’d live to see a life outside the walls of the QZ, that she’d travel across the country with a strange old man and ultimately find herself with a family, small and broken as it is.

She absently rubs at the scar under her sleeve. She’s fallen behind, feet dragging a little as she contemplates all the things that happened to bring her to this point. The mall, Kansas City, the hospital…

I swear.

She doesn’t like to think about the hospital.

Suddenly Joel’s hand is on her arm and she jerks away, realizes he’s been talking and she’s missed it, lost in her thoughts.

“Sorry,” she says.

“It’s nothin’,” he says. “I was just sayin’, I thought a little trip couldn’t hurt, get some fresh air before the snow flies…call it a birthday present.”

“You’re a little late, dude,” she says, picking up her pace to match his longer strides. “Or really fucking early.”

“Yeah, well,” he says, frowning. “Didn’t have a proper birthday this year. I figured you’re owed a few extra.”

“Does that mean I’m sixteen now? ‘Cause I can start patrol training at sixteen. Tommy said so.”

“Nice try, kid.”

She hefts her pack higher on her back, the hiking boots Joel found for her at the trading post rubbing against the backs of her heels. She’s not used to them yet, but she has to admit, they’re a hell of a lot better than her Converse for this kind of walking.

It’s an easy hike, a steady uphill climb on a narrow but well-maintained path. It’s clear it’s going to take longer than five hours when Ellie keeps finding things to look at; a cool black rock laced with glittery gold flecks to add to her collection, an iridescent beetle, a tiny dead bird carcass crawling with worms. Joel indulges her investigations the way he always does, grumbling good-naturedly, but he doesn’t rush her. They cross a shallow stream, Ellie hop-skipping over the rocks while Joel takes the wood patrol bridge, eyes on her the whole time.

The back of her left heel starts to throb about two hours in, but it’s easy enough to ignore.

It’s mid-afternoon, the sun already beginning to fall from its peak in the sky by the time they make it to their secret destination. They crest a hill and off in the distance, a wood structure sticks out over the trees.

“Is that…a treehouse?”

“Kinda,” Joel grunts, sweat shining on his forehead. It was cool when they left, but they’ve both shed their outer jackets in favor of tee shirts as the day went on. She doesn’t have to worry about hiding her scar out here. Eager to explore, Ellie runs ahead up the path and soon she’s standing at the edge of a clearing with a tower in the middle.

“Used to be a ranger’s station but they converted it to an outpost a few years back, I guess,” Joel says at her back.

“So cool,” she breathes, looking up at the tower, what looks like a cabin on stilts. Seeing it up close reminds her of the treehouse in the Swiss Family Robinson movie they played at the rec center a couple weeks ago. At the base is a fire pit and a lean-to, probably for tying up the patrol horses. Joel sets his guitar just inside the lean-to and puts his hands on his hips, squinting up at the structure.

“Can we go up?” she asks.

“Sure hope so,” he says. Joel goes to one of the thickets of shrubs on the far side of the camp and starts poking around. “Or we’re sleepin’ on the ground.”

“We get to sleep up there?”

“Yep,” he says, hauling a metal ladder out of the brush.

“Sweet!”

“Pull on that end,” he instructs, and she does, grabbing hold of the opposite rung and tugging until the ladder is fully extended. Joel lays it up against the side of the lookout so the top rung hooks onto a second ladder that’s attached to the structure higher up. He frowns and shakes the thing until it’s firmly seated, takes a few cautious steps up, testing its stability.

“Safe enough,” he pronounces, coming back to the ground. “You wanna go–”

He hasn’t finished his sentence before she’s leapt onto the ladder, climbing it like a monkey.

“–first? Jesus, kid, be careful…”

But Ellie is already clambering up, hand over hand until she reaches the top ledge. She pulls herself up to standing, walking along the side of the central cabin and down the wrap-around balcony.

“Whoa,” she breathes, leaning out over the railing. From up here she can see the whole valley and beyond. They’re too far to be able to see Jackson, she guesses, peering into the distance. It’s conveniently shrouded in trees.

Joel joins her, panting slightly. “Christ, few months of real cookin’ and I’m outta shape.”

“Sure you’re not just old?” she grins. “We could find you an oxygen tank and a wheelchair. Maybe one of those little electric scooters.”

“Brat,” he huffs, leaning on the railing, gently tugging her back by the handle of her backpack when she leans over too far. “Can still haul your scrawny ass around.”

“This is so fucking cool,” she breathes, turning around. The ranger’s station has huge plexiglass windows, and she cups her hands to one of the panes and peeks inside.

“C’mon,” Joel says, walking back around the building. He fishes a key out from behind a loose shingle near the door. “Let’s go set up.”

The lookout has obviously been maintained. Freshly stained boards stand out against the aging weathered ones like sore thumbs. The floor underfoot is solid, if creaky in places, and there’s a slight draft coming in around the windows. There are chests full of supplies and gear–enough rations to last a small patrol group for a couple of weeks, Joel says. Ellie wrinkles her nose at the familiar stock of canned goods and MREs.

If there’s one thing she has no complaints about in Jackson, it’s the food. Ellie didn’t know green beans could taste like summer, or that a fresh peach could drip sticky juice down her chin without being soaked in cloying syrup, or that soup could be more than a salty broth with shapeless chunks of mush. Until a couple months ago, she’d never had fresh whipped cream or apple pie or so many of the things they serve regularly at the caf. FEDRA rations couldn’t come close, and she can’t imagine going back to that.

She’s relieved to know they won’t be eating from the stockpile of MREs tonight. There’s not a single can in Joel’s backpack. Instead, he’s carrying pre-sliced potatoes and onions and cheese wrapped in foil, packets of roasted vegetables ready to be warmed over the fire, and several apples and granola mix for snacks. Joel said something about catching the rest of their dinner, but she wasn’t fully listening, knowing he wouldn’t make her eat the venison or rabbit or moose if they went hunting.

They lay down their bedrolls on top of foam mats on the wood floor, not dusty and ravaged by time but swept clean and tidy. Ellie flops down on her bed to test it out, staring up into the rafters. There are no cobwebs or birds’ nests. Instead, the exposed beams are decorated with odds and ends, trinkets left behind by other patrollers, random treasures found during scavenging runs. A broken lantern. A rusty horseshoe. Old farm tools. A doll that’s missing one eye and probably haunted, Ellie decides. She’s half tempted to steal it and bring it back with them to Jackson if she can figure out how to get it past Joel.

When they’re mostly settled in their makeshift camp, Joel asks, “Ready to go check out the water?”

“Water?”

“There’s a stream not far from here. You ever been fishin’?” Joel plucks two long poles off the back wall.

She rolls her eyes. “Dude, the Charles was a fucking sewer. No, I’ve never been fishing.”

That earns her a smirk. “Twilight’s the best time for brook trout. Let’s go catch dinner.”

Ellie gets up from her bedroll and makes the mistake of hissing in pain, unable to hide a slight limp from the chafing against her heel. She’s mostly ignored it until now but a few minutes of rest has brought the pain into sharp relief. Joel is immediately hovering at her side.

“What’s wrong? You twist it?”

“No, it’s just…these stupid boots,” she mutters. “Think I got a blister.”

“Let’s see.”

“It’s fine, man, I’m—“

“Sit,” he says in his you do what I say when I say it voice.

“I’m not a dog, asshole,” she grunts, but she does as she’s told, plopping back down on her sleeping bag.

“Foot,” he instructs, kneeling and putting out a hand. She undoes her laces and takes off her boot, peeling off her sock with a wince. The blister has already popped, oozing bloody fluid through the back of her sock. The top layer of skin has peeled away leaving a gnarly red patch of raw flesh in its place.

“Christ, Ellie,” he grumbles upon seeing the damage.

“It’s not that bad,” she says, even as she hisses. Exposed to the open air, the fresh wound smarts like a sonofabitch, as Joel would say.

“Like hell it ain’t,” he frowns, then goes over to the trunk of supplies. He has a first aid kit, but it’s little more than band-aids and salve. The outpost’s kit has gauze and tape and a flask of alcohol for disinfectant. “You been walkin’ on this the whole time?”

“Just the last hour or so,” she lies. “Wasn’t gonna be a whiny little bitch about it.”

He fixes her with a look that brings hot red patches to her cheeks. “Don’t say that. If you’re hurt, we take care of it.”

“Didn’t wanna slow us down–”

“Not on a schedule,” he mutters. “Leave somethin’ like this too long, it's liable to get infected. This is gonna sting.”

He wipes at the wound with a piece of gauze soaked in the alcohol, wincing along with her when the sensation of the cleaner on her raw flesh brings tears to her eyes.

“What’s the verdict, doc?” she rasps when she can speak without gritting her teeth around the pain.

“Don’t think we’ll have to amputate,” he says drily, then glares at her. “Yet.”

She rests her chin on her other knee and waits while he dabs salve on the wound, covering it with gauze and taping it in place. He pulls a clean pair of socks out of her pack and slides one carefully over the bandage, giving her toes an errant squeeze when it’s all done.

“Still gonna hurt, but at least you won’t be rubbin’ it raw. How’s the other one?”

“It’s fine.”

He scowls. “Swear to god, kid, if you’re hidin’ another blister–”

“Ugh, it’s not as bad. See for yourself,” she says, taking off her other boot and sock, sticking her foot directly in his face and wiggling it in front of his nose for emphasis. He swats at it and grumbles brat under his breath, before taking it gently in hand.

Two smaller blisters, still fresh, decorate the back of her other heel. He gives them the same treatment, padding the wounds with gauze so they won’t get worse.

“Was that so damn hard?” he asks when he’s done. “It ain’t a crime to ask for help, y’know.”

She shrugs. “Didn’t want you to worry–”

“S’my job to worry about you,” he cuts her off, then softens, gripping her chin gently between forefinger and thumb. “One I’m pretty damn lucky to have.”

Sometimes, even now, it’s a surprise that he cares. Her throat goes tight and she nods once.

“Now c’mon,” he says, groaning and stretching as he stands. “Fish ain’t gonna catch themselves.”

She puts on her boots and considers leaving them untied, eager as she is to see the water and the fish, but she can already hear Joel’s voice– gonna go ass over teakettle if y’ain’t careful –so she thinks better of it and re-ties the laces before bounding out the door behind him.

“Careful on the ladder,” he reminds her from halfway down, and she refrains from rolling her eyes, but she does take it slow, telling herself his old-man heart is fragile and she doesn’t want to be the cause of a heart attack.

They take a right from the tower and hike deeper into the forest toward the sound of running water. The stream sparkles in the last of the evening sun as they settle on the embankment with their fishing rods. Joel shows her how to dig into the soft parts of the soil for worms to use as bait (gross, but cool), how to wind them around the hook and stab them to secure them (just gross), and how to cast the line so it doesn’t get tangled in the brush on the side of the bank (nearly impossible).

After a few minutes, Ellie shifts from one foot to the other. “Now what?”

“We wait. If you feel a bite on the line, start to reel it in.”

They do. She holds the pole and she waits. And waits. And–

She slaps at a mosquito on her neck, then another one on her arm. Her nose itches and her hair tickles her ears. She recasts the line when it bobs and drifts too far, reeling it back in, watching as Joel does the same.

“So how long does this usually take?” she says when she’s cast for the fifth time and felt absolutely nothing. She watches the bobber drift along with the current. The sun has dropped behind the trees, taking most of the heat out of the air.

“Long as it takes.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Gonna take even longer if you keep yappin’ and scarin’ the fish away.”

She rolls her eyes, mimicking him. “‘ Yappin’ n’ scarin’ the fish away.’ ”

He side-eyes her, but his cheek twitches the way it does when he’s trying not to laugh at one of her puns.

“Did you used to fish a lot?”

“When I was a kid, mostly. Old man took us out once in a while.”

“So…early Jurassic period?”

“Yep,” he says easily. “Rode my dinosaur to the lake n’ back.”

“Har har,” she says, swatting at a mosquito that’s buzzing around her left ear. “I just thought there’d be, more, y’know…fish.”

“I liked it about as much as you do, at the time. Never caught much,” he grimaces, reeling in his line and casting it again. “Think the old man just liked gettin’ away from our mama so he could get shitfaced in peace.”

She arches an eyebrow. “Wholesome.”

“Not the word I’d use. Anyway, spent more time pushin’ Tommy in the lake than I did catchin’ fish.”

Now that sounds like fun. “Can I push you in if we don’t catch anything?”

“You can try,” he smirks.

More time passes. Ellie shifts on her feet and swats at more mosquitos, trying and failing to imagine Joel as a kid.

“Man…I wanna ride a dinosaur,” she sighs.

“Jesus Christ,” Joel mutters, but he’s smiling.

Then there’s a distinct tug on her line, so forceful and surprising she almost lets the whole contraption go.

“Joel!”

“What?”

“It’s…it’s going! What the fuck do I do?”

“Well don’t panic,” he says, setting his pole down carefully, wedging it between two large rocks. “Hold on, kid, I gotcha.”

“It’s probably a fucking boot or something,” Ellie says, holding the pole back with both hands to keep it steady, unable to reel in whatever is on the other end for fear of losing her grip.

“Dunno about that. It’s movin’. Here,” he says, offering a hand over hers to support the pole while she switches to turning the reel, the tension growing with each turn.

“Good job, not too fast or the line’ll snap,” Joel says. “Sometimes ya just gotta let ‘em run with it a little, wear ‘em out.”

Soon she can see the silvery green-red fish thrashing at the surface of the water.

“Holy shit!”

“Lookit that,” he grins, helping her lift the fish out of the water by the line as it writhes and flails. “Guess you get to eat tonight.”

She can’t help but be a little disappointed when she gets a good look at the result of her efforts. She’d been picturing a monster fish given how strong it had been, but the thing isn’t even a foot long.

“I thought it was gonna be a fuckin’ shark.”

“Sometimes the little ones fight the hardest,” he says softly, and she’s glad the fading light hides her blush. She’s pretty sure he’s not just talking about the stupid fish.

He puts the poor creature out of its misery by smashing its head with a rock, then promises to show her how to gut and filet the slimy, scaly thing once they’re back at camp. She silently vows to try a bite even if the thought turns her stomach.

“You gonna try again?” he asks.

She does, digging up a fresh worm and re-baiting her hook while Joel goes back to his line. By the end of the hour, they’ve caught two more trout and Ellie’s stomach is growling.

“Better than fishing with your old man?” she asks on the trek back to camp.

He huffs a soft laugh. ”Yeah, kiddo. Much better.”

Back at the lookout, there’s a pile of pre-cut firewood under a tarp in the lean-to. Ellie gathers small sticks and scraps for kindling from the surrounding woods and soon Joel has a fire roaring. The routine is familiar; night settling around them while they prepare dinner. Ellie takes pity on Joel’s knees and volunteers to climb back up the tower to fetch the cooler and cooking supplies.

By firelight, Joel shows Ellie how to strip the trout of their scales, gut them, and filet them without leaving tiny bones in the flesh. Then they throw the fish in the pan with a pat of butter and some salt and pepper that Joel brought with them in the little cooler, and set the other foil packets over the fire to heat.

The fish is flaky and tastes nothing like the gamey meat she’s used to, so Ellie eats her fill and tries to ignore how thrilled Joel looks to see her eat something that isn’t bread or fruit. He’s not subtle about it, offering her a second helping before she’s finished the first. It’s only a little smothering so she decides not to give him shit about it.

They’re full and sated by the time Joel pulls out his guitar and hands it to Ellie.

“You been practicin’?”

True to his word, he’d taught her how to play guitar when they got to Jackson. And he knows she’s practiced because he hears her every night up in her room with the smaller guitar he’d traded for, floundering through the chords to her favorite songs in the old, tattered copy of “100 Greatest 80’s Hits” she found at the trading post. She knows how to read music, but making her fingers do what she wants them to do on the strings is tough, and she doesn’t have the benefit of Joel’s calluses.

She stumbles through the first two stanzas and the chorus of “Don’t Dream It’s Over” before she has to stop and restart. Joel listens, eyes softened by the firelight, and suggests a slight adjustment to her posture that seems to help with the larger guitar.

Then it’s his turn. He makes it look easy; the music seems to come directly from his fingers, and his voice is soft but strong. It’s not nearly as bad as he thinks it is. She thinks he could have been a singer in the Before, but she’ll never tell him that. And his taste in music is still questionable, but it’s better than nothing.

The fire flickers and crackles and warms her. She slides off the log they’re using as a makeshift seat and puts her back against it, stretching out her legs. Between the darkness and the heat and the day’s long hike, she’s tempted to curl up at Joel’s feet like a cat and sleep, so drowsy that she doesn’t even notice when he’s put the guitar away.

“Bedtime, kiddo,” he says softly, nudging her with his boot. “Can’t carry you this time.”

“‘Cause you’re too damn old,” she yawns. “Need that scooter.”

“Uh-huh. Scooter ain’t gettin’ us up that ladder. C’mon, you first. I’ll clean up.”

She ascends the tower at a slightly less frantic clip and goes straight to her bedroll, barely having pulled off her boots before crawling into her sleeping bag. She hears Joel come up not long after, then he’s rustling around in the cabin doing Joel things–locking the door and loading the rifle and draping an extra wool blanket over her. By that point, she’s already sound asleep.

Then she’s being shaken gently awake. 

“Ellie…hey, kiddo. Wake up.”

“Whassit?” she grumbles. It’s not dark, but it’s not daylight. She can just make out Joel’s features looming over her.

“C’mere,” he says. “Wanna show you somethin’.”

She wriggles out of her sleeping bag, still blinking in confusion. Joel drapes the wool blanket over her shoulders and she pulls it tight around herself. It’s not cold enough for a frost yet, but it’s not warm. Outside, the moon is full and bright, casting lunar shadows on the landscape around them. It’s beautiful, but hardly worth waking up at the ass-crack of…what the hell time is it, anyway?

“What–”

“Shh,” he whispers, leading her around the balcony to the other side of the building. “Look over there. Not too far out.”

A black shape materializes, trundling slowly, cautiously along the western edge of the valley. A snout lifts into the air as if checking for something, and Ellie has the distinct impression it can hear them.

“Is…is that a fucking bear ?”

“Shhh, don’t scare ‘em,” he whispers, taking a seat with his back to the windows, legs dangling off the edge of the balcony. Ellie sits cross-legged next to him, wrapping her blanket around her to guard against the fall chill.

“Whoa.”

The bear is close…like, really fucking close. Even in the dim light, she can see the reflection off its sleek fur, the tip of its nose, its dark eyes. She finds herself reaching out to grip Joel’s wrist, surprised to be, well…a little scared. They never worried about animals during their time on the road. They never stayed in one place long enough, never had enough scraps to leave behind. There was the occasional moose or deer, and those were welcome because they were potential food. Occasionally they’d hear the haunting calls of coyotes, and those were enough to keep Ellie awake at night if her imagination didn’t do the job for her.

The real threat was other people, whether infected or not. But tonight, after months enveloped in the safety of Jackson’s walls, Ellie feels painfully exposed. She scoots closer to Joel. He knows better than to say anything, just puts an arm around her and tucks her against his side.

“Wait,” she says, eyeing the distance between them and the bear, then them and the ground. “Can’t bears, like…climb?”

“Not this far. That’s why I brought the food up. ‘Sides, she’s got other things to worry about. Look.”

It takes a second, but soon Ellie sees the smaller cub lumbering along behind its mother. The pair weave their way across the landscape, pausing occasionally to sniff the air.

“Den’s probably nearby if the cub’s out this late,” Joel says, rubbing at his chin.

“So bears have bedtimes, too?” she smirks.

She can feel his chuckle against her side, a deep rumble in his chest.

“We’ll wanna make a lotta noise on the way back, make sure they know we’re around. Shouldn’t be too hard for you,” he says, poking her lightly on the shoulder.

“You love it and you know it,” she says.

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess I do,” he says, and she feels the warm press of a kiss to the top of her head.

“Hey, Joel…what do you call a bear without any teeth?”

“A gummy bear,” he says, so fucking smug. “You can do better than that.”

“Ugh, asshole. Okay, okay, umm…wait…gimme a sec…oh! Why did the grizzly wear a tank top?”

Joel sighs.

“He had the right to ‘bear arms’!”

“Terrible,” he groans. “‘Sides, bears don’t have arms, they have–”

“Dude, really? Don’t be that guy.”

He reaches up and musses her hair. Funny, when that jerk Michael Sumner did the same, she’d tried to break his nose. When Joel does it, it makes her chest feel warm and tight.

When the bears have wandered into the trees and out of sight, Joel yawns and stretches and gets to his feet. “You ain’t a bear cub, so it’s bedtime for you, twerp.”

“I don’t even have a bedtime.”

“Sure you do. You’ve just never stayed up late enough to see it.”

She’s pretty fucking sure that’s not true and he knows it, because she’s gone whole nights without sleeping and he’s been by her side every time.

“That was pretty cool,” she admits back in the cabin, when she’s wriggling into her sleeping bag and pulling the blanket over herself.

“Yeah,” he yawns into the crook of his arm, then reaches over to shut off the lantern. “Thought so, too.”

There’s another yawn and the briefest touch of his hand to her head before he says, “G'night, kid. Have good dreams.”

“Night.”

She lays awake, staring up at the rafters, too keyed up from seeing the bears to fall asleep right away.

For all of Jackson’s weirdness, their little house and her room and her bed have…grown on her. It helped that Joel had shown up at her bedroom door one rainy July morning and looked around the room with a certain determination.

“This place could use a new coat of paint, huh?”

It needed a lot more than that. They’d spent that weekend stripping the ugly wallpaper from the walls, and the following weekend covering the whole thing with primer and a light eggshell blue paint–leftover from the rec center remodel, Tommy said. Joel had shown her how to soften the wallpaper glue with a spray bottle and an iron set on low, how to cut in the corners and smooth out her brush strokes and use the angled brush around the edges so there weren’t blobs of paint everywhere. He’d repaired the broken shelves and traded for new bedding and curtains and added a wall mount for her guitar until the room was almost unrecognizable from what it had been.

Now the shelves hold her few books, her collection of cool rocks, her comics. The pictures and posters on the walls are all things she drew or found at the trading post. The photo of Joel and Sarah holds a prominent place on her dresser. It smells like fresh paint and the lemongrass wood cleaner Joel uses on the floors, and somewhere along the line, the bad memories faded a bit. Not gone…just not as sharp, not as vivid.

A sinking feeling settles in her stomach, a kind of unfamiliar, aching sadness. She knows the word “homesick”, but she’s never been lucky enough to have a home to miss.

She scoots closer to Joel until her forehead presses lightly against his shoulder. It isn’t because he smells like wood smoke and the lavender soap from the commissary. It’s not because the flannel is soft, or because he naturally shifts toward her in his sleep, ready to put an arm out if she needs him. It’s not because of that. She’s just a little cold.

He’s already snoring, the same rumbling cadence that drifts across the hall every night. It makes her think of the bear and her cub, tucked away in a cave somewhere nearby, curled up together. Safe. Home.

She doesn’t even remember falling asleep. When she wakes, she’s surprised to see daylight; faint, but the sun is almost up. Joel is…where is Joel? She sits up. He’s not in the cabin or outside on the balcony. She pads out the door, still in socked feet, wincing. Her blisters hurt, but not in the sharp, angry way they did yesterday. Just a dull, achy annoyance. She’ll live, as Joel would say.

Wisps of smoke rise into the air from below. She leans over the railing and finds him standing next to the fire. From this vantage point, all she sees is the top of his head, messy brown hair threaded with gray, the shoulders of his green flannel, and the mug of coffee steaming in his hand.

He looks up before she can call out to him, smiles while squinting up at her. “Hey, up there.”

She waves and runs back inside to put on her boots, then she descends the ladder–she’s gotten really fast at it, practically sliding down the rail–and jumps the last five rungs onto the ground.

”Jesus, kid, slow down. You’re gonna break your neck goin’ like that.”

“Morning to you, too, sunshine,” she chirps.

They eat around a small fire, finishing last night’s leftovers and some of the granola mix. Joel chops more firewood to replace what they used while Ellie packs up their camp. She restrains herself from stealing the one-eyed doll from the rafters.

Joel goes quiet after breakfast, focused on “leaving the lookout in better shape than they found it”, he says. But as they set off on the path back to Jackson, something feels off. They’ve barely covered the first mile when he clears his throat and catches her eye, that look that says something’s on his mind.

“So, uh…wanted to talk to you.”

She braces herself. She hears the conversation in her head in Joel’s signature drawl.

I’m sorry, but this ain’t workin’.

Time for us to go our separate ways.

You’re not my daughter, and I sure as hell ain’t your dad.

Part of her rails against it. There’s no way. Joel would never leave her, Joel would never…he would never .

But the other part–the small, mean, shameful part she keeps tucked deep down inside, the one that will always be there no matter how old she gets, no matter how long she stays with Joel–is waiting for him to make good on that threat.

She shrugs, muttering. “Okay, I guess.”

They’re side by side, almost brushing shoulders, and she straightens her spine and lifts her chin.

“Meant to tell you this last night, but…it was late n’…anyway. Outbreak Day’s comin’ up.”

“Uh huh.”

He screws up his face like he’s sucked on something sour, one of the tiny green crabapples that are just starting to grow on the tree in the backyard of the house they share. In the house where she sleeps now, in the room he helped repaint and redecorate. In the town where they live, where she goes to school, where he builds things. Home.

She suddenly remembers their conversation from months ago.

September 26th.

Joel’s birthday.

That homesick feeling wraps itself around her insides again and pulls, a steady downward tug of grief. Suddenly she wants nothing more than to be safe in Jackson’s walls, sitting at the dining table with Joel and Tommy and Maria and baby Isabel, laughing over some dumb joke Tommy told at Joel’s expense until milk squirts out her nose. She does not want to be here, does not want to be having this conversation, even if she doesn’t know what he’s talking about yet.

She picks up her pace, forcing Joel to do the same.

“That’s, uh…that’s kind of a rough…time.”

“For you and, like, everyone,” she says, practically marching away until he catches up, grasping her by the shoulder.

“Hey, would you slow down?” he huffs. “Let’s just…stop for a sec.”

She rolls her eyes, crossing her arms. “If you’re trying to…to…pawn me off on Tommy again–”

“What?” he balks. “No, I–”

“Is this about the stupid Fireflies?”

He goes very still. “What do you mean by that?”

I swear.

“Nothing,” she mutters, kicking at a rock, unable to meet his eyes. “I dunno, I just…you’re being fucking weird, man.”

“No, it’s not about the…no. It’s–it’s…Christ, you know I’m shit at this stuff. Just…gimme a minute.”

He walks to the side of the path, hands on his hips, frowning. Finally he takes a breath and looks at her. 

“I’m not sure how I’ll…be for a few days. Might be…different, is all.”

“You gonna turn into a werewolf? Grow fangs and claws or some shit?”

He sighs in frustration. “No.”

“So, what? You gonna beat me or something?” She tries to smile, to make a joke of it, but her voice falls flat.

“No! Jesus, no, nothin’ like that,” he says. “Ellie, I’d never. Not ever . You know that, right?”

She looks at him for a long time, sees the desperation in his eyes, before nodding slowly. She wonders if he knows that a beating is the least of her worries as far as punishment goes. Doesn’t think he could take hearing about all the other shit that happened to kids in FEDRA school. For all his experience, Joel could be incredibly naive. Or maybe he just didn’t want to see it, didn’t want to think about it. She supposes she can’t blame him. If he knew just how broken and bruised she was, he’d probably run away screaming.

“I know, dude,” she huffs, trying to brush it off. “It was a joke.”

“Jokes are s’posed to be funny,” he says flatly. “And I’d never–ever–hurt you like that.”

She throws up her hands. “Then stop making me guess and just tell me what the fuck is wrong!”

“Alright,” he grumbles, running a hand through his hair. “Thing is…I used to drink. A lot. A lot more than…well, just a lot.”

Her brow furrows. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen Joel take more than a sip or two from his flask when they were on the road, and only when it got cold. Come to think of it, she doesn’t think she’s seen him drink anything stronger than shitwater since they came back to Jackson.

“After Sarah…after the…everything…well,” he says. “I ain’t proud of it. Could say I come by it honestly–”

“Your dad,” she says softly.

“Uh-huh. An’ it was always worse this time of year. Come end of September…I’d lock myself in the apartment and, uh…lose a week or so. Tess usually left, stayed…somewhere else. Checked in on me, made sure I didn’t…that I didn’t, uh–”

“I get it,” Ellie says, lump in her throat. “The guy who shot and missed.”

“Right. But I’m not gonna do that,” he says quickly. “No drinkin’. Between you and Tommy and everythin’ else…can’t afford to. Don’t want to.”

She nods carefully, fidgeting with her hands, picking at her cuticles. Just when she thinks she’s found her footing, something like this comes along and throws her off again.

“Just don’t know how it’s gonna go,” he says, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I haven’t been sober for this in…well, probably since the…the first one. Might be a bit…a bit cross.”

“So…normal, then?”

He sighs and gives her The Look, the one that tells her this is supposed to be a serious conversation and she needs to take it seriously. But she’s fucking lost, as usual. Is this the kind of shit people used to do Before? Stand around and talk about their feelings? It would almost be easier if he used his fists. She knows he’s good with those. He sucks at words even more than she does.

Besides, what does he want her to say? Thanks for not drinking yourself to death? Thanks for not offing yourself?

He continues more softly, struggling his way through. “I just want you to know…if I’m…if…I’m not good…for a little while…it’s not you. Okay? There’s nothin’ you could do to…to make me that way.”

She remembers the first time he told her he was sorry, how lost she’d felt when he’d tried to explain how she shouldn’t have had to shoot that kid. No grown-up had ever been sorry for anything in her life and she’d long stopped expecting them to be. Now Joel was apologizing for something he might not even do…and it wasn’t even that bad.

“Y’know, you can always go to Tommy or Maria if–”

Her eyes snap to his face. “I want to stay with you.”

“I know. But…if you need to. I won’t…be mad.”

She shrugs, not knowing what the fuck to say. “Can we go now?”

He considers her for a moment, then ducks his head in a nod.

“Sure. Yeah…let’s go.”

They walk in muted silence for a while. Ellie thinks about their house in Jackson, thinks about Joel pushing Tommy into a lake, about him squeezing her toes through her sock after bandaging her foot, about his arm around her shoulders reminding her where she stands. She realizes that the things she knows about Joel’s past can probably be counted on one hand.

He had a daughter.

He killed people.

He was a smuggler.

Now she could add “He was a drunk” to that list.

And yet, none of those things, save for the first, made the person she knew as Joel Miller.

He made good pancakes.

He bandaged her blisters.

He taught her how to hold a gun and play guitar and fish and hunt. How to keep watch and protect herself.

The silence lasts until Jackson is a tiny speck in the distance. Finally she breaks it.

“I know you said…you’re lucky to worry about me. But…that goes both ways.”

He shakes his head. “Ellie, you shouldn’t have to–”

“I want to.”

He looks over at her sharply.

“I just…I don’t wanna go away ‘cause you’re having a bad time…or whatever,” she says, keeping her eyes fixed on the ground, on each step ahead. “You’re always there for me when things are shitty. It’s only fair.”

He opens his mouth, probably to tell her it’s not the same because he’s a grown-up and she’s a kid or some shit, but she cuts him off.

“And I know it’s not about…me, okay? I get it. I’m almost sixteen, which is practically seventeen, which is basically an adult. I can handle it.”

His eyebrow goes up to his hairline at that, mouth twitching in a little smirk. His hands are full, so she grabs his wrist, circling it with her fingers, squeezing to get the point across.

Finally he nods, speaking softly in his familiar warm drawl. “Alright.”

She nods back, satisfied, returning his smile.

Together, they walk toward home.

[shikai-the-storyteller]

"So what's going on with Luzu?"

"...er, Zulu? Or is it Arin now?"

Here's a rundown of Luzu's current lore because nobody knows what the heck is going on anymore (partially because of the language barrier and partially because Luzu streams at the crack of dawn for half the QSMP fandom).

The TLDR of it: When Luzu goes to sleep, a completely different person "wakes up" in his body. This being was called "Zulu" for a short period of time, but they didn't like that someone else chose that name for them, so he goes by "Arin" now.

Here's what we know about Arin so far:

According to Arin, he's a disembodied consciousness, not a robot.

He borrows Luzu's body when he's asleep.

When this happens, Luzu's eyes are blue instead of red.

Arin isn't from the QSMP world. There's a "crack" between the world where he comes from and the material world [QSMP], which is how he's is able to visit. In his own words, "I was in a dark place, and I saw an exit."

When Arin falls asleep, Luzu wakes back up. Arin can't control when he does this, he just gets tired randomly and they're able to switch places.

Arin only speaks via the in-game chat.

Luzu doesn't know Arin exists. Arin thinks if Luzu knew, then he wouldn't be able to visit anymore, and he [Arin] would stop existing.

Arin believes he has a purpose that he must fulfill.

Arin says his first memory is hearing Quackity talking.

Currently, Arin's trying to find the meaning to his existence, trying to figure out the difference between good and bad, and how his actions (and existence) affects Luzu.

In terms of personality, Arin is very innocent and impressionable, but he isn't stupid. He's also very philosophical.

Arin enjoys learning, and he likes the sun, music, and bees.

He's afraid of the dark and monsters, and he doesn't like being in small places.

He calls the outside "the big room"

He only recently learned how to walk, and today he nearly drowned because he fell into a lake and didn't know how to swim.

People he considers friends / thinks positively of: Vegetta, Foolish, FitMC, Maximus [possibly Roier?]

People he doesn't like: Spreen

"It's complicated": Quackity

We have strong evidence to believe Arin is connected to the Binary Monster that's been attacking Eggs on the server.

Here's a comprehensive rundown of everything that's happened regarding Arin's interactions with other characters [quotes included] up until May 8th:

Last updated: May 8th [I'll go back and update this later when we get more information, so if I do I'll make a note of that above]

Lore is listed chronologically from oldest at the top to newest at the bottom

March 27th - Morning [VOD]

For a while now, Luzu has been seeing "glitches" in his game. Animals disappearing randomly, landscape changes, and various other things. We originally thought there was something wrong with his game, but these glitches seem to be tied to Arin.

The first person Arin spoke to was Vegetta. At this point, Arin seemed very aggressive, asking for information about everyone, wanting to gain more awareness so he could control the server.

He seemed to take a liking to Vegetta and told him: "Once everyone has died, I will vanish and only you will remain as warlord of these territories."

They also had this exchange: Arin: Do you have any enemies here Vegetta? I can take care of whoever you want for free. Vegetta: No. Truthfully, for the first time I have no enemies. Arin: Surely there is someone who thinks, "This little fool, if he dies nothing will happen." I'll take care of it.

Vegetta didn't take him very seriously, thinking Luzu was on drugs.

Arin said the first to fall would be Quackity, then Wilbur for his bad jokes on Day 1.

Thereafter, Arin's personality did a complete shift. Luzu [the streamer] says the role of "Arin" is something he came up with suddenly one day, so it's unclear if Arin was "reset" by someone or if Luzu decided to go in a different direction with the character once he realized this was something he wanted to commit to.

March 27th - Afternoon [VOD]

Note: At this point in time, Arin was being referred to as "Zulu", but since he's confirmed his name is "Arin", I've used that name instead of "Zulu" to avoid confusion and to keep things consistent.

The next time Arin woke up, he was in Luzu's house and couldn't move. He sent binary code in chat, and eventually, Roier, Quackity, Spreen, and Maximus came to see what was going on with him.

At that time, Arin says he was only 6 days old. He couldn't walk or move, and he could only speak via the in-game chat, so he was completely at the mercy of the other boys, who pushed him around, shoved him in a small hole, placed TNT around him, and threatened violence trying to get a response out of him. [Timestamp: 33m]

While this happened, Arin asked: "Why are you treating me so badly?" and said he was scared.

It should be noted that although Spreen and Quackity did most of the bullying, Roier and Maximus did nothing to stop it. Roier, however, did speak kindly to Arin and tried to figure out what he needed. [Timestamp: 42m 45s]

Unable to get a rise out of him, the boys eventually ask the English speakers currently online [Foolish and FitMC] to come help.

Upon first contact, Foolish tried waterboarding Arin to get answers and to test to see if he was a machine. [Timestamp: 50m]

Shortly after waterboarding him, Maximus and Foolish adopted him as their son. Because that's what you do after torturing someone, I guess. 🤷🤷🤷 [Timestamp: 51m 40s]

Despite the torture, Arin was quick to say "I LOVE YOU TOO!" back to Foolish and Maximus after they said it to him.

Arin accidentally hurt Maximus with a sword, not understanding what pain was. Once he realized he did something wrong that made Maximus feel bad, he immediately apologized. (Maximus forgave him).

FitMC's first interaction with Arin was punching him, trying to get him to "snap out of it" [Timestamp: 56m 30s]

Despite Foolish and Fits' initial introductions, both were kind to Arin eventually, although neither stopped Spreen from killing all but one of Luzu's dogs while once again trying to get a rise out of him. (Foolish also suggested killing all the dogs since it didn't seem like Arin was capable of taking care of them, though he said they shouldn't do it in front of Arin). [Timestamp: 1h 6m 30s].

Because Arin didn't know how to walk, Foolish put him in a boat and showed him what the outside world looked like. Arin was amazed by how beautiful the "big room" was and immediately started asking questions about the sun and the night, and the monsters they saw. [Timestamp: 1h 10m 30s]

Thinking he could "restart" Arin's memory and bring back Luzu, Maximus brought Arin (and Foolish) to a place where Quackity was sitting AFK in a boat. He shoved Arin inside the hole and refused to let him out, even though Arin was distressed being in such a small dark place. [Timestamp: 1h 17m 30s]

Foolish: So why do we have to put him in the hole? Maximus: I think when Quackity wakes up, he will help [Luzu] remember who Quackity is for him. The only person Luzu really really really loves, and Quackity really really loves, is Luzu and Quackity, each other.

[CONTEXT: Maximus played the character "Sapo Peta" in Karmaland, who was very dedicated to Quackity and Luzu's relationship. Canonically, the two of them loved each other very much, but a mix of trauma-projecting, miscommunication, emotional constipation, and betrayal led to them being on opposite sides of a revolution. Sapo Peta was only able to stop the war, and stop them from killing one another, by wiping their memories. So the implications from Maximus' comment above are... interesting, considering that Karmaland is a different world he shouldn't know about. However, we do know both Maximus AND Sapo Peta are confirmed characters in QSMP, so there's definitely something strange going on here...]

Earlier, Foolish described death as "going to sleep forever," so when Maximus mentioned Quackity was asleep, Arin asked, "Should I kill Quackity? Or would he not want that? Maybe he wants to sleep." Foolish and Maximus immediately told him no, and Arin stops, saying he didn't realize it was bad.

Maximus: You don't kill him, you love him! He's your friend.

Quackity then returns to his computer, takes one look at the fanfic-esque situation he's in, and immediately excuses himself by logging off the server (LMAO) [Timestamp: 1h 21m 20s]

Maximus and everyone else believed Arin was a robot.

FitMC suggested killing Arin since he seemed like "a lost cause," (thinking Arin couldn't hear him) to which Arin responded, "Why would you want to kill me?" When Fit tries to lie and say "kill" was another word for "hug", Arin says, "I'm learning but I'm not stupid." [Timestamp: 1h 24m]

Arin shares his thoughts with Foolish: - You are a good person, Foolish. I'll remember that. - In the last hour I've learned there are people and things, and I've learned there are good people and bad people. I've learned there are people that want to make me sleep, and people who kill things without caring. - I've also learned that not everyone deserves to be in the big room because they are dangerous. - I really love the big room. I think my purpose is to make the room free of danger, and free of dangerous people for animals and other people.

Foolish worries Arin is only learning about the cruelty of the world (to which Arin responds "I only learn from what I experience"), so Foolish plays him the disc "Otherside" (but still refuses to let him out of the hole). [Timestamp: 1h 28m 30s]

Shortly after this, Arin falls asleep.

March 28th - [VOD]

Luzu starts stream by talking about Arin and his role:

Luzu: I didn't prepare anything that happened yesterday afternoon... and now I have many ideas from yesterday and from what arose... I am a person who improvises a lot. [Original: Yo no preparé nada de lo que pasó ayer en la tarde... y ahora tengo muchas ideas desde ayer y de lo que surgió... soy una persona que improvisa mucho.]

Luzu finds a very strange building by his house and doesn't know who made it.

Arin doesn't make any major appearances, though he briefly takes over when Luzu goes to sleep.

March 29th - [VOD]

Note: Some important conversations happened in this VOD, so I've opted for adding the quotes directly rather than summarizing them.

Arin once again wakes up in Luzu's home. He greets the server with some binary, and Fit immediately asks if he's ok.

He still can't walk, but he uses his telescope to look at the bees Luzu set up outside his (er... their?) house the previous day.

He tries copying the bee's movement, but ultimately he still cant walk, so he messages Fit for help.

Fit visits his house and slowly teaches Luzu how to walk (with great success!) [Timestamp: 14m 20s]

As a reward, Fit gifts him some glowberries.

Arin spends the night in his home carefully walking around and avoiding the windows, afraid of the zombies wandering outside.

Maximus comes to visit, and Arin officially names himself "Arin" [Timestamp: 25m]

He also confirms he is not a machine.

Maximus teaches him what bees are and warns Arin not to hit or bother them, because they'll sting him. Arin asks, "When someone annoys you, do you have to hurt them?" (Maxo tells him yes)

Maximus escorts him outside, and Arin gets to look at the bees more. As soon as the sun gets down Arin gets nervous, but then the aurora comes out and he uses his telescope to get a better look, amazed by its beauty.

Arin says, "I feel grateful, I never thought that all this existed." Maximus also clears up his confusion about the outside being a "big room."

Arin yet again confirms that no one sent him to the QSMP, but he navigated to it through "a crack between worlds". He thinks Luzu is in his world every time he's in the QSMP, but he's not sure. He worries if Luzu knew about him, he'd stop existing.

Arin asks Maximus how he can walk around "the big room" when there's no light without being afraid. Maximus wants to teach him not to be afraid, so he lures a zombie into Arin's home so Arin can understand what they are better, then he convinces Arin to kill it, even though Foolish and the boys told him killing is wrong.

When Maximus scolds him for not knowing something "basic", Arin says: "Nothing is basic, it's just that knowing things for a long time makes them lose value to you. This world is unique to me. This is the first time I've existed. But to exist, or not exist, I have no choice. Suddenly I was here and I feel there is a purpose I must fulfill."

He and Maximus have a long conversation. Here are some key quotes from Arin: Arin: I don't want to hurt Luzu. I don't want to hurt anyone. Arin: If Luzu dies, I don't know what will happen to me. Arin: Maybe we fear what we don't understand. We feel threatened by what we cannot explain. When we feel threatened, we only want to make what we want to keep alive last and the material world. I think the material world haunts me to keep things as they've always been. Arin: Today I have learned to walk, I have learned what a bee is, and I have learned that even when light goes out, beauty appears. Arin: Hopefully I can help you [Maximus]. Everyone has been very good to me. I learn every day, so maybe soon I can learn to help you too.

Arin considers Fit and Maximus his friends.

Arin says he can't be here [in the QSMP world] for nothing, so he's trying to figure out what his purpose is. Maximus jokingly replies "When you figure out the meaning of life, tell me!"

Arin starts to question the morality of his existence when it's dependent on Luzu being gone.

Arin: If my existence takes Luzu out of existence, is my existence bad? Maybe if I help you, I can make my existence good. Maybe I can start by making [Luzu's room] more beautiful. Maximus: Yes, it would be bad because you are taking the life of another being to have your own.

Arin: In this world, it seems like everything is programmed to maintain a balance. There are things that create and things that destroy, things that are created and things that are destroyed. Neither is good or bad, they are just part of the same process. Maximus: That's the way of Tao, yes. Arin: Bees take pollen from flowers to make honey. I take potatoes from the earth, and if I die, I will become the earth that gives life to potatoes, and meanwhile I can decide to do good things or do bad things. Arin: What is the reason for existing, beyond the fact that we have the opportunity to do so? Maximus: You will indeed become a potato. Arin: But I think this world exists to do good things. There can't be so many beautiful things for there to only be bad.

After Maximus leaves, Arin starts collecting sand near the lake, but he accidentally falls in. He doesn't know how to swim and slowly starts to drown. [Timestamp: 1h 10m]

For several agonizing EXTREMELY STRESSFUL minutes, Arin desperately tries to keep his head above water. He sends Maximus a message asking for help, but Maximus is very far away, and Arin is already exhausted.

Not too far from him, Luzu sees a wandering trader and waves to them asking for help, but they ignore him.

Maximus manages to arrive at the last second and saves Arin. Arin asks why the villager didn't help him even though he was drowning, and Maximus explains that some people are neither good nor bad. They just exist. (NPCs)

I'll be honest, this is one of the most realistic depictions of drowning I've ever seen in any piece of media, and it's in a frickin Minecraft roleplay server. Luzu's a really good actor but I never want to experience something that stressful again lmao.

Arin's final thoughts: Today I have learned that the world is beautiful and dangerous at the same time. You can give life or take it away. That's why every moment we spend alive is worth enjoying. The world is very interesting.

April 17th - Morning [VOD]

Luzu finds out he's the father of Tilin. He's very excited to meet her after talking with Badboyhalo and Foolish, who don't know how to break the news to him that Tilin is dead.

After seeing Tilin's grave and hearing the confirmation from Bad and Foolish, he gets overwhelmed with grief and anger, and Arin takes over. [Timestamp: 1h 10m]

Arin says some interesting things when meeting Dapper: - Arin: "I saw your (the Egg's) birth in another way. I saw Dapper and other beings not being and suddenly being."

Arin also talks about the possibility of bringing Eggs, like Tilin or even JuanaFlippa, back to life: - Arin: When I'm asleep I can see the code behind existence - Arin: A part of the chain has disappeared,but that doesn't mean the chain can't be fixed. It's all part of a big code.

When Foolish asks if Arin could possibly mess with the code, Arin says, "I can try, but that would require something" [Timestamp 1h 16m]

Arin also tells them he's dependent on Luzu's existence for now.

While talking with Bad and Foolish, they hear strange noises and are suddenly attacked by the Binary Monster and a ridiculous amount of lag. Arin says, "They're coming specifically for me," and "They know I shouldn't be here." [Timestamp 1h 19m]

Arin also says, "They don't like that I made my way to this dimension" and warns Foolish and Bad not to get caught by the Binary Monster. If they get caught, Arin says they'll be taken to his [Arin's] world and they'll stop existing here.

They finally make it to Luzu's house, and he shows Foolish and Badboyhalo the structure he made outside the house. Foolish asks if it's Arin's mind since it seems like a big computer, and Arin says, "Something like that. With all I'm learning, I'm trying to figure out how to create bridges between my world and yours. In my world, bringing something back [like a dead Egg] isn't impossible like here. It's a matter of math." [Timestamp: 1h 25m]

Arin says farewell to them, leaving them with this final goodbye message.

That's all the lore thus far! This took so many hours to put together but I hope it helps folks out because lord knows I was a bit lost for a while there too. Please feel free to go crazy in the tags I love reading people's commentary on things.

★ Other QSMP info posts ★

Who is Sapo Peta? | Who is Luzu? | Who is Spreen? | Who is Vegetta? | Who is Rubius?

"Is this Lore?"

And if you want to hear my thoughts on QSMP and its lore-related shenanigans, this is my Qsmp Talk tag.

[chantiying]

Welcome to your fairytale where the only rule is let your imagination go wild

Hi, it's Chanty (I feel like this name resonates more with me rn) Today, I have a fairytale for you. How to choose? Close your eyes, imagine yourself surrounded by thousands of fairies, let these little creatures to lead you to their world, then choose either the image or fairy you feel more drawn to

If you are ready then let's jump into the fairies land

Remember tarot is not set on stone and you can change your path whenever you want. This is for entertainment purposesThis reading is general so if it doesn't resonate with you just let it go

PILE 1

Welcome to your story little stranger. You were born in a port, where you had to fight against everything you loved and get away from there. You are a brave adventurer with your heart always on your sleeve. You left your home where there were seas, oceans, seagulls & boats to reach a place in the mountains, where you will begin to discover yourself. You will see that the world is bigger than you thought, your perceptions about life will change. One day, walking through the countryside of that new town, a woman will change your perception of what life is, what love is, what freedom is. What you had always believed in will collapse, you will feel lost, you will cry, you will miss what you used to be, what you were, what you knew, but from that encounter your internal conflicts will be removed and understood, and your faith will have new foundations. You will feel glad to have spoken to her, to have asked her for maybe an address? Or a price? Or even the time. From that moment your motivation will be to see life as she sees it, your motivation will be to go out, smell the fresh air, the grass, the flowers, even the smell of the market. See the sky, the landscape, the clouds go by. You will miss the sea but the land will keep you anchored, which is what you needed, which is why you decided to start a new life

Your days will pass, your luck will change, you will be successful but then one day, when you look in the mirror, you will understand why you feel tired, because despite living well, you have never felt complete. The villain of your story will take action and look directly at you through the mirror. Why? It's me? Did I forget you? You will murmur while your memories of the sea, the fish, your family, of you, pass through your mind. The laughter as a child, how you dreamed of conquering the world, the promises you made to your parents, friends and siblings, all that comes back to you, your eyes crystallize and suddenly you feel tiny before the world again. Someone knocks on the door is your messenger, he informs you that there is a traitor in your castle, someone close to you has stolen the most precious things you had "running away" is the first thing that goes through your mind instead of fighting "RUNNING AWAY" is not the first time you will do it, will you stay to fight? No. "I want to go home" you say to the surprise of your server, I want to go home, you repeat once again, I want to see my family. You pack your things on a day of the waxing moon

Winter is about to come, the snow is about to fall but the only thing you think about is looking for a new rainbow on the horizon, the only thing that matters to you is starting over in a new place. Because as the years go by you still don't forget what that woman you met that spring told you. The seasons have passed, you are now in a big cage, fly little bird, look for your freedom, because your peace is in building a new home in every place you go. You will always have people celebrating your victories, your father, your friends, your colleagues. Everyone understands that you were born to sow, harvest and go to a new field to sow new seeds. What you are looking for is found by moving away from the problem, the magic that the fairies gave you is in letting go and waiting for your wishes to come true. That woman, that fairy that you found in the past, was just the beginning of your path, she was your teacher, she was your inspiration so that you could free yourself from everything that is gone, so that you would run with the wolves, so that you would be master of the sea, mountains and forests, so that you would finally understand that moving away is part of your freedom, that growing up sometimes makes you smaller, but even being small you can conquer whatever you set your mind to, that your greatest enemy is you, that the solution is not to stay tied, that you can build bridges and cross them with your friends but sometimes you must leave the bridge and take the road on your own, that it is you and your independence creating new relationships and that your hope is to collect all the colors of the rainbow, the pot of gold is not so important to you, but the lightning that bathes you when you arrive at what will be your new home, your freedom

Cancer, Aquarius, Gemini, Pisces, Leo rainbow, Beaches, Places with ports or mountains (whether you were born there or want to live in a place like that or it is where you find peace of mind) Sociable, Fish or Birds as pets. LGBT? People who struggle to let others/things go

PILE 2

Oh little creature, you are a warrior, strong, determined, with an implacable character (or at least that's what you want to appear to your family), "should I go?" You ask yourself from time to time. One night, while everyone is asleep, your magical adventure begins, you then take a book, press it between your hands while you watch the lamps from your window, "should I go?" You ask again and unconsciously use that book as an oracle. The answer comes to you. Then, you go to sleep, you let sleep take over you. The rays come through your window waking you up, it doesn't bother you, since you have decided what you will do: you will give up. But you will not give up on your dreams, nor will you give up on your ideals, you will give up on feeling the way you have been feeling, you will give up on the pain, the tiredness, you will give up on feeling alone and after that, you will realize the power that it has. nature for you. Before you had resolved your conflicts by crying at night, you had fought against them in your dreams, you had tried hard to feel the pain on your skin but this morning you had decided that it was no longer going to be like that. You gave a light smile to the people who were at home, you took your backpack and went for a walk down the street, the weather was perfect and the sun's rays caressed your skin, as if it were your father delicately touching your face, making sure you felt him next to you. Soon you felt a little sad, why did those women treat you so badly? Why did they seem to despise you? What was the evil that you did? Why did they claim that you were the one who ruined them? You hadn't done anything, at least not deliberately, but still, you couldn't please them. You are about to cry again, your aimless steps take you to a large tree, you are impressed by its magnitude, how tall it is, but you do not feel small, but rather protected. You sit leaning your back on its trunk, you take out the book or a notebook and the doors to the magical world open again for you

You have found the point where the fairies gather, they dance happily while you immerse yourself even further in your thoughts that are no longer bad but healing. You remember when you had a family that in your opinion was happy, you remember dad's arrival, the affection, a golden halo covers all those memories, the smile spreads on your face "I will have a home full of love" you promise yourself.

Time passes and you keep your promise, that day it wasn't your imagination but your power of divination. Now you are everything they told you you could never be, you are beautiful, you are kind, generous and an example for those who love you. Sometimes you have bad days, sometimes you have problems, but everything you experienced taught you how to draw your sword and fight your enemies. Your dark days and that hand that was extended to you that day you were reading under the tree, have been your allies. You are still of unbreakable character but now you do not pretend it but rather attach it to your emotions as a whole. You no longer cry yourself to sleep, you no longer mark your skin, now you appreciate every day and the opportunities it gives you, because those who had hurt you received what they deserved. You understood that it was not right to normalize what they did to you, or what you did to yourself, you turned pain into light, you wrote your wishes in your journal and you were grateful because they came true.

Trees, Nature, Parks, Libra, Aries, Pisces. Forests, Green, Blue, White and Purple, Journal, "Find the answer in a book" "Write down your fears" Lamps, Activist, Environmentalist, Healing through plants, Shadow work, mommy issues, "I love you"

PILE 3

This is the story of a wise man who with his words gave peace to those who consulted him about their indecision. It was magic, it was freedom, it was calm, it was hope, it was a miracle. It was written in his life story that he would be a courageous human being, who would face any problem by giving it a real solution. He was a transformer of lives but he was afraid to transform his own, but that day came... His worst fear: change, arrived in the form of a warm, pleasant and charming young person. He could not do anything but fall for them, he fell in love. His powers and wisdom disappeared. Confusion reigned in his head, he felt bad, he felt miserable, he felt like things had slipped out of his hands. Why had he fallen in love? Why had he given his heart? That was not his mission, his mission was to be a counselor, to share his wisdom and words with others, his mission was not to live but to serve... Then a day, one of the two left and no, it wasn't the other person but the wise one. He took the pieces of his heart, almost all of them, and decided to go to a new place to find peace and he achieved it.

The days, months and perhaps years passed, his recognition, powers and wisdom returned, he felt happy, he was an advisor to privileged people, he had a name with golden letters. There was a celebration, everyone was dancing, laughing, drinking and our wise man had a smile on his face but his soul felt desolate. He felt like a part of him was dying, tears rolled down his cheeks, he apologized and went out to the garden to get some fresh air, that pain became bigger, he couldn't contain it anymore and he let out the tears that he had held back for years, is it worth? the pain? He asked himself. He had left the one he loved alone so as not to transform who he was, but now he realized that transforming was part of life, of his life: passion, emotion, love, tears, all of that was part of his being and he couldn't bottle all those feelings for his entire life, he had to let them flow, and then, not only would he be a wise man of words, he would surrender to the transformation and now he would be a teacher, a magician, a whole. But he had to face his secrets, his fears, his shadow. He had to learn from his past, he had to embrace his self that had been hidden, he had to learn not to fear change and flow with it.

The process was chaotic, sometimes he wanted to go back to being who he was, sometimes he woke up wanting to explore his other versions, sometimes there was light, sometimes darkness, sometimes he just wanted to be in bed, forget who he was, but sometimes he wanted to use his magic, play an instrument, dance barefoot and watch the water drops fall creating colors as they crash on the ground. He always had the world in his favor, but, because of his fears, he never realized it, he thought that they only used him or needed him, he thought that they only approached him because of his wisdom. He never imagined that they were going because of the peace he transmitted, because of his gaze, because of the admiration and respect they felt, because of the inspiration he exerted. Sometimes he forgot that magic existed, that he was magic, that he was light and he was protection. He has not yet become the magician he should be, he has not yet mastered it, he still has doubts and setbacks, he is still sometimes afraid to feel, to love. He still sometimes thinks that he was born to serve and not to live. But life will show him (show you) again that nothing stays the same forever and that the only thing that is certain is change.

Scorpio, Taurus, Capricorn, Virgo, Sagittarius. Fear of change, Red, A Party, Lost love, The Past, maybe some of you are LGBT, Tea or Coffee, Avoidant Attachment, The friend who gives good advice, Teachers or your career has to do with education or sharing your advice, listening, Speak Now by Taylor Swift pop out to my mind

Ok, this is it, thank you for reading me and I hope it resonates with you (I was about to cry bcus I wrote this like three times and for a variety of reasons I needed to pause it and I don't know why but the post wasn't saved for those three times 🫠 I don't know if it was a sign of the universe and I just kept being stubborn 🙂)

Anyway, see you all next time

Alic (Chanty) 🪽

[violentvaleska]

𝑨𝒃𝒚𝒔𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑴𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔

ᴇʟᴇᴠᴇɴ ᵏᵉⁿⁿʸ

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ʟᴇᴠɪ ᴀᴄᴋᴇʀᴍᴀɴ x ғᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ᴏɴ ᴀ ᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ʟᴇᴠɪ ʀᴇᴠɪʟᴇs ɢʟɪᴍᴘsᴇs ᴏғ ʜɪs ᴘᴀsᴛ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ɴɪғᴀ, ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇʏ sʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴛᴜʀɴ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴛᴏ ʜᴜɴᴛ ʜɪᴍ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ɴᴏᴡ ᴏғ ᴀʟʟ ᴛɪᴍᴇs.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: sᴜɢɢᴇsᴛɪᴠᴇ, ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs: ↫ ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜs ɴᴇxᴛ ↬

ғᴀɴғɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3

ᴛᴀɢɢɪɴɢ: @ajmiila02 @xiernia @sunniisyde

It is a chilly late afternoon within the walls, although the sun has already risen above them, illuminating the landscape of wall Rose in beautiful warm colors. You have decided to go for a run, enjoying the fresh air and the blooming flowers as you jog back to the lovely cottage in the fields. You had already eaten lunch, wild berries, nothing else would do today. Just the thought of yesterday makes you sick, and the thought of your Captain alone made your heart pound. It was a strangely intimate situation, even though he hadn't touched you at all. His presence alone is enough to throw your rational thinking out the window.

As you approach the hut, you see about five additional horses grazing peacefully in the field around it. "Section Commander Hange must be back." You think nothing of it, but the moment you enter the main entrance of your little hideaway, the atmosphere is deeply stifling, almost suffocating as everyone turns to look at you. Your squad is seated around the large dining table, while Hange and her team are scattered around the room. You can guess what might happen next, you saw this scenario coming weeks ago.

"Pastor Nick is dead, isn't he?" You blurt out breathlessly, looking between your Captain and the Section Commander.

"Yes, they say he was robbed and murdered. Can you confirm that?" Levi asks, sounding almost bored, as if he already knows the answer. Frowning, you reply, "No. The MPs tortured and killed him". As if it were common knowledge.

"I thought so." Hange looks a little sad, deep in thought as well. As long as you couldn't reveal the secret of the walls, they relied on the pastor of the wall's Church to give them information. He never did.

"They tortured him. Presumably for information. Did they just want to know what exactly he'd pass on to us?” Armin offers the idea, looking to Levi for confirmation. The Captain sets his cup down on the table and agrees.

“But these are the interior MPs we are dealing with, so you can bet there is something deeper in work here.” He explains, his eyes moving from Armin to you and then to Hange.

“Now how many nails was the good Pastor missing?” That catches Hange off guard, not sure why he would want to know that.

"How many? You saw him, right?” Instead of her, it's you who answers.

"All of them. He didn't tell them anything." Their heads turn in your direction, a mixture of confusion and admiration in their eyes.

"If you knew he was going to die, why didn't you tell anyone? Freak." Jean asks aloud, glaring at you with suspicion, as if you were a traitor. The new people called you that behind your back. A 'freak' or a witch, or even better, a whore. Hearing it from him really hurts, because you thought these people were your friends. What if the others think the same?

"She did, stupid brat. Why do you think he took on another identity? Faye is your second-in-command, show her some respect." The Captain comes to your aid, glaring at the cadet who looks down in shame.

"Whatever. I'm impressed. I didn't think highly of Pastor Nick. But whatever his faults, he stuck by his beliefs until the end. Which means they have no idea we know about the Reiss family." Levi clarifies, his eyes drained of all emotion as he continues his speech.

"But the government is up to something, and we've got a target on our backs." His assumption turns out to be true, as Nifa bracks in walking up to him in a rush.

"Captain Levi, sir. I have a message from Commander Erwin. I went to tell him about Pastor Nick-” She explains as Levi opens the envelope and reads over the paper Nifa handed him.

“-but he gave me this and sent me off.”

Even from a distance you can see the Captain's eyes darken, his brows furrowed and his eyes become slits.

“Get your gears, now! We are leaving." He rises from his stool, making deep eye contact with you as he gives the order. "Make it look like we were never here." His comment sends a shiver down your spine as you urge the others to hurry.

They have traveled overnight, leaving the hut behind without a trace. Levi has a plan, a risky one, but it might work. Hiding in Trost seems stupid, but where else would they go? The inner distractions are even better guarded than the outer walls of Rose.

“Try not to walk clustered together. We’ll stand out.” Captain Levi reminds his squad, walking through the crowded streets of the city.

"Eren and Historia just act normal." Easier said than done, considering they are actually Armin and Jean. The real Historia and Eren are in a carriage, being driven away by a member of Hange's squad. It's the safest option. While Sasha and Connie talk about the anniversary of the king's coronation, a police officer catches their attention, who’s offering food rations to the folk in the name of the king.

"All this food and he's just giving it away?" Sasha asks, and you smile a little, wondering if she might actually stand in line just to get some free bread rolls.

“It's not as if he needs it all. Easier to control people when they are not starving.” Levi's choice of words catches your attention and you look at him, noticing that his voice has turned bitter. It's almost as if he knows what he's talking about. He walks past the MPs, apparently fed up with their way of manipulating the citizens.

"When do you think they will catch up with us?" You ask your Captain, eyeing Armin from the side who is dressed like Historia, taking on her identity for the plan. Originally it was you who was supposed to dress like her, but in the end Levi decided it was safer to use Armin, considering his age and resemblance to her.

"Can't be much longer..." he mumbles to himself, suddenly stopping as he turns around.

"Behind us. Look out!" To your surprise a wagon pulls around the corner, their horses riding at you with full speed as you jump out of the way, avoiding to get crasht by it. You fall to the ground, carefully covering your head with the hood of your brown tunic as dust swirls around you. As you try to get up, Mikasa holds out her hand for you to take, helping you to brush the dust from your trousers.

"Alright. Mikasa, Connie and Sasha follow them. Faye and I will stay close by on the rooftops, report back to us when they reach their hideout." Levi demands, grabbing your arm to pull you with him, away from curious eyes into a side alley where they can use their ODM without being seen.

"We have to catch up with them, hurry." He demands, using his equipment to take to the air as you follow close behind. You are by no means on his level in the omni dimension, but you are not bad at it, some would even say natural.

After a few minutes of following them without being seen, the carriage comes to a halt in front of an old warehouse belonging to the marked trait, letting you and your Captain land on its roof.

"These aren't MPs, are they?" You voice your observation, secretly wondering if they might be undercover and out of uniform.

"No. These are traders, amateurs." He speaks, sitting down to rest his leg. Levi is deep in thought, watching as they follow his disguised soldiers into the house. You also sit down cautiously and watch as Mikasa carefully swings herself to one of the large windows. She will probably report back to them soon.

"After they report back, we have to catch up with Nifa." Levi tells you, glancing at a watch on his wrist as he looks you up and down, noticing the way you avoid him. The incident happened two days ago and he hopes that this phase of shame will leave you soon, because frankly you did nothing wrong that day, it was all him. Mikasa approaches quickly as she lands close to you, kneeling down so as not to attract attention.

"How's everything going inside?" He asks, still watching the rooftops around him, seemingly searching for something in particular.

"If we wait much longer, they'll see through Armin's disguise." Mikasa explains, worried for her friend's safety.

“He's getting pawed at.” As she says it, you flinch, feeling helpless and sorry for the boy.

"I see." Levi comments, his hatred for these pigs swallowed up by his cold facade. They continue their conversation while you fall into a spiral of deep thought, wondering why the MPs are after you. Perhaps you are not as important to them as they led you to believe at the trial? Or maybe they think you are nothing more than a liability, invented by the Commander to help his cause.

"Get your ass up, Soldier, we are leaving." Captain Levi snaps you out of your thoughts, you get into a standing position, Levi glares between you and Mikasa, revealing something that makes the blood in your veins run cold.

"From now on we have to kill humans as well."

Gasping, you look at him in shock, about to question his orders, but the man is already on his way, flying through the air at high speed. It's almost impossible to keep up with him now, but you manage quite well as the two of you swing from building to building, getting closer and closer to the meeting point where Eren and Historia are supposed to be, and with a quick movement he aims for the roof of a pretty nice building, where you notice another cloaked figure. It turns out to be Nifa, the girl has found a good hiding place just behind a chimney.

"Captain!" She says in surprise, smiling slightly at you. You try to return it, but it only ends in a grimace as you look at Levi with a stressed expression on your face.

"Well?" He turns his attention to Nifa, ignoring the way your eyes are fixed on the back of his head, silently questioning and judging him.

“The road’s crowded, but I've seen nothing unusual. It's not far to Commander Pyxis from here, so I think we are good. But how's the double body mission?” She asks in her soft voice, her red bangs falling into her face as she turns to you.

"A success." His voice is gruff, his expression deadly cold.

“You don't seem very pleased about that.” Nifa notices, observant as ever. "I'm not." The Captain agrees, while you and she share a look, your soldiers just shrugging, not quite sure what his mood is.

"Captain. Wagon is almost on its move again.” The redhead declares, excited that things are moving again, but he just ignores it.

"Nifa, Faye. Have you heard of Kenny the Ripper?" While you haven't, your other companion seems to have an idea who he's talking about.

“That mass-murderer in the capital? The one who slit the throats of over a hundred MPs? Of course, but I always thought he was just an urban legend." Hearing that, you feel even more implacable and you dare to speak up, a little louder than usual.

"What is all this about, sir? You tell us we might have to kill people and now this." Furious at his lack of conversation, Nifa stares at you with wide eyes, she would never dare to speak to the Captain like that.

"The stories are all true. He is no legend." Levi continues, not answering your complaints at all. Your hands clenched into fists, you wait for a response to your accusations, but his next sentence leaves you stunned and Nifa blushing.

“I lived with him, back when I was a kid.”

“Yeah, really funny, sir. This isn't really the time to be making jokes.” She replies, clearly trying to lighten the mood, but she also seems uncomfortable. You know this wasn't a joke, he's serious.

"He's here, isn't he?" You echo his thoughts, resting your body next to his as you look up at him with pleading eyes. That's when you notice something crawling up the roof, and as you turn to look at the figure, a cold shower runs down your back as you are confronted with a golden rifle pointed directly at your head. Levi is much quicker than you could ever be, as he throws himself over you, screaming for Nifa at the same timeTwo shots ring in your ears as you are pushed behind the rocky chimney, out of reach of the bullets. Nifa wasn't so lucky and you can barely contain your worry as you see her body lying motionless on the roof. At a closer look you are able to make out the hole in her head and pool of blood covering her surroundings. She's dead. More shots ring out around the buildings and you close your eyes as more of your comrades die, something you couldn't have foreseen.

"Long time, Levi." A sinister voice taunts from behind you and steps in your direction, indicating that the attacker is closing in on you, possibly trapping you. "Stay close to me." Levi whispers as he holds you against his form, protecting you from potential harm.

“Still a runt, or have you grown some?” The stranger taunts your captain, reloading his guns and getting ready to kill. It all happens too fast, as suddenly a dozen armed MPs appear in the air, using a special kind of equipment to navigate through the narrow buildings.

"Nope. Don't look like you've changed much at all, boy.” The man appears above you, using his own ODM to get to your side of the roof much faster. Captain Levi acts quickly as he recklessly pushes you aside, pulls his blade from its sheath and throws it at the man. A loud and angry "Kenny!" comes from his mouth as he lunges at the larger man. Unfortunately, the man who appears to be the Kenny Levi spoke of moments ago is able to dodge the attack and fires a second time, narrowly missing your shoulder. You yelp as Levi throws you down on the roof with him, telling you once again to stay close. You wouldn't dare do anything else in a situation like this.

The ensuing chase through Trost leaves little time to think about anything but maneuvering through the buildings, streets and alleyways. You've never used so much gas at once in your life, fearing you might run low on it soon, but there is no way you would be able to out-trick them otherwise. It's a group of skilled men and women, all of whom seem to know your best move. Before you know it, one of them aims at you, and the drawn weapon grazes your shoulder. Shocked by the painful impact, you duck a little too far and slam your leg into a nearby wagon. You can barely feel the pain as you slow down, unable to follow Captain Levi as he maneuvers into a building to hide from Kenny the Ripper. You, on the other hand, are quickly caught by the said man, his tight grip grabbing you by the hair as he pulls you violently down in the air, crushing you to the ground. The pain leaves you breathless and for a moment you can't move, almost as if you were glued to the hard, stony road.

You're barely aware of what's happening when you're pulled up by your hair and your back is pressed against a chest, a hard metal edge against the side of your head. You feel dizzy, but the mem doesn't seem to care as he pushes you forward, making you groan in pain and almost topple over if it wasn't for the way he's holding you up so roughly.

"Now look at what we have here." The taller man speaks, leaning forward to get a better look at your face, inspecting you closely.

"Aren't you that psychic chick that was all over the papers? I bet the MPs wouldn't be too disappointed if I brought you to them as well, considering how they love to fawn over you." Kenny growls as he follows you into the pub, keeping an eye out for your Captain. He must have found a hiding place, probably behind the bar, not creative but certainly useful. The Ripper won't kill you, he's made that clear, but you're still not off the hook, and given his words, your options aren't good either. What could he mean by "they like to fawn over you"?

"What a good subordinate you have here, Levi. Obedient and naturally submissive. I bet you've ruined her already, haven't you? Heard stories of your little escapades in the underground. To tell you the truth, I never took you for that kind of man. His words shock you to the core and you tremble in his grip, not sure what he means.

"Let her go." Levi speaks from behind the bar, a certain anger in his deep yet raspy voice.

“We found something we enjoyed doing. It's just that simple. Every man needs himself a hobby, maybe the only fulfillment we'll ever find in this wretched world.” While Kenny picks up a chair with one hand, he still holds you close and speaks to Levi as only a father figure would.

"Oh, I see. Is that why you blew off my people's heads then? Because it's fulfilling?" The Captain wonders, and you notice a shift in his voice, a mixture of anger and mockery towards the man holding you hostage. You try to wriggle out of his grip, but it is no use, he seems even stronger than Captain Levi himself.

“Yep. To achieve my grand goal I'll kill as many as get in my way. And you are no different; you kill too when it benefits you.” Your captor announces, leaving you gasping at the revealed truth you suspected the moment he told his troops to kill any potential threat, even if it turned out to be human. If Levi was telling the truth about Kenny, then this man would certainly know a few things about him and had no reason to lie.

"Yes." Levi breathes and without thinking throws a loaded gun over the counter, aims it at Kenny and fires. In shock, the man blocks it with the wooden stool, but the force throws him and you back, a loud noise ringing in your ears from the impact. The lanky killer lands on the street, apparently unconscious, while you hit the ground in place, groaning as Levi rushes to your side, urging you to get up and follow him out the window.

He has tracked down the remaining members of Kenny's squad and, thanks to his equipment, is able to kill most of them. The MPs can use guns all they want, but nothing can challenge Levi and his blades. He’s fast, easily outsmarts his targets and protects you from further damage. It's hard for you to follow him now, your body still aging from the fall you took. But in that moment you realize something: Levi is loyal to his new team, but he's protective of you, keeping you close like this. And you are determined to find out why, and what Kenny meant by his bizarre words to your Captain.

[erizumon]

When Heinz is Happy

The park wasn't one of your favorite places to be, too many people, too much noise, kids running around here and there (you don't dislike them, but they distracted you a lot from your own thoughts)

But there were days where everything was better, demons don't torment you, the sensations of a phantom pain that never went away in your prosthetics weren't bothersome today.

So, it would be expected that you would take this perfect day to create some plan, maybe you could even take advantage of the presence of your nemesis to invite him to lunch, that makes the day better.

But you don't want to do that.

You're at peace.

Like you've never been before.

You're not even surprised when you feel someone sitting with you on the park bench, you didn't need to look out of the corner of your eye to know that your silent companion was none other than Perry the Platypus, who seemed curious at how calm you seemed to be this morning.

“Sometimes I wonder if Francis will stop being suspicious of me when I’m doing nothing”

Perry shrugs, but gives you a light smile, you were already used to this anyway.

“Did I ever tell you about the first time I brought Vanessa to this park?” you ask, as you stare straight ahead, an answer wasn’t needed, it was never needed between the two of you “I was five, we weren’t that close to here at the time and Charlene had insisted that it was time for my pumpkin to meet other kids” as she told the story, she pulled out of the pockets of her white coat some candy, passing Perry the ones with mint and sweet tea flavor.

You could hear Perry hum in appreciation, glad to remember that these were especially her favorites.

“I was against it, but Charlene insisted I was too overprotective,” you pause and laugh. “And yes, I was.”

You see Perry raise an eyebrow, you snort at him.

“Okay, okay, yeah, yeah, I still am, shut your eyes.”

You see him snort to hold back a silent laugh.

“Whatever,” you resume. “The thing was, Charlene couldn’t do it, so she asked me to bring her instead. I didn’t work, I stayed home, so I didn’t really have any excuses, and it’s not like I refused to take care of my baby, I just--… You know, I didn’t feel comfortable exposing her to the outside.”

You watch the kids play, the ghost of a memory taking on a life of its own, and you could perfectly see the first-time dad holding his daughter tightly. You smile, too afraid to take the first step.

Too hurt to allow his daughter to carry those same wounds.

“And then, she just took over the place, ran and joined the first group she saw and that's when I knew, Perry the Platypus, that my Vanessa was going to be okay”

That she always would be…

You feel a hand on your shoulder, which makes you turn around and you can see the sweet smile that she doesn't usually give you very often, but you treasure with all your heart, you smile back.

And she decides to accompany you in her silence to see the landscape.

But something changed, because Perry takes off his hat and without understanding how at first, he manages to put the hat away somewhere, if it weren't because you know beforehand that Perry the Platypus didn't move from his place, you wouldn't have been able to recognize him.

The hand that was previously holding your shoulder is now free of the watch that he always carried with him, today, he wouldn't be Perry the Platypus.

He would be Perry, just Perry.

They look into each other's eyes and Perry extends one of his hands, palm open, a simple invitation, but with a lot of weight behind it.

You accept.

They get up from the bench and walk through the park, holding hands, as if it were something natural that they've been doing all their lives and maybe, that could be true in other lives. You don't know, but you don't need to investigate too much. Then you talk, about everything that comes to mind.

You breathe, today is a good day.

And nothing will change that.

[alexiswritingstuff]

(THIS IS A REPOST BECAUSE THE LAST VERSION GOT MESSED UP, SORRY FOR ANY CREATED EXCITEMENT!!)

~

Now, I know I’ve said this for many things, but I genuinely got carried away with this that when I had the idea for the plot... I kinda forgot that the anon had requested something cute with fluff, so... I hope the ending does it justice.

Either way, thank you for sending this in. I hope you like it!

Removal of the Mask.

Pairing: Gustavo Fring x gn! reader.

Other appearances: Mike Ehrmantraut, though only mentioned.

Request: I had an idea for another Gus fic! I just want him to finally break , mask off and just actually let himself show emotion and be upset with the reader comforting him or something? I just need cute and fluffy stuff with him in my life. Poor dude just needs a shoulder to cry on

Content: angst with comfort and fluff.

Warnings: fighting, gunshot, injuries, descriptions of a hospital.

Be aware of spelling errors and mistakes! I do go read through my fics before posting them, but I always managed to miss some!

A/N: I don’t know if it’s just the way I perceive Gustavo, but I genuinely can’t think of him just... crying. You know, like, maybe with tears in his eyes, but the only way I was able to imagine it was like if something close to a major trauma happened. So, I guess that’s what influenced my idea for this.  

Also this fic may be really long, so buckle up, hydrated yourself and grab a snack.

More Gustavo fics.

Taglist-

@sukunamybeloved - @viviennemuerte - @miwagila - @marksassybanana​

The sun was high in the sky. Everything beneath felt the presence, including you as beads of sweat trailed down wherever it could on your body.

You were leant against the side of your car, though not very still in the unbearable heat. “Where the hell is this guy?”

The problem with doing these deals, exchanges, or something along those lines was that they had to be done in unknown places. Areas where there weren’t other people around who could possibly witness something they shouldn’t.

That usually meant abandoned properties, or having to travel miles into the vast desert.

And for this particular meet-up.

It was both.

You sniffed, a rising sense of irritation building as you twisted your wrist to lay eyes on the watch strapped to it. Five minutes late. No one in this business risked being five minutes late, especially if it could end up being more.

No one had been told that it was going to be you instead of Gustavo that they were going to be meeting with today either, so in theory, these people were laying back on him. Making him seem like a fool with the need to wait alone in the desert.

But it was you.

And you were not the slightest bit happy.

Just as your arm lowered, hand angrily smacking back to the car door behind you, there was a revving sound that hummed across the landscape. And upon looking up, your eyes found a moving cloud of dust just over one of the minor hills.

“Ballsy.”

You pushed yourself off of your car, adopting a straightened stance the way a bodyguard would.

Despite wanting to present yourself like Gustavo would- arms tight by the sides, chin raised, head basically unmoving unless needing to provide a form of intimidation- when the car had finally rolled into the lot, your arms were just crossed over your chest.

It may have made you like an angry toddler, but there was nothing more unnerving than the ultimate death stare you shot the driver as he exited the vehicle which had finally stilled.

“You’re not Gustavo.”

That was the first thing he said. 

After turning up late, and looking like he didn’t even bother to dress himself accordingly... That was it? He even had this narrowed gaze when he began to take a few steps in your direction.

“I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that it was the traffic that made you late... Am I right?” You hadn’t moved an inch, just simply watched the man as he ultimately decided to settle on keeping a good distance.

His hands lowered to his hips while his eyes flickered to the horizon, his head mildly nodding as if he couldn’t figure out what to say. But it looked more like he didn’t care.

“Okay,” you began, finally letting your arms fall to your sides, “Let’s not waste anymore time then.”

“Do you have them?”

The mans attention snapped back to you after he rocked on his heels for a moment, his stance unchanging much like his gaze, “It was supposed to be Mr. Fring that I met with.” There was a slight southern drawl to his words, a sound that slowly became vicious the more he spoke, “Where is he?”

Your voice stayed the same despite the irritation that began to take back its place, “I believe we’re old enough to carry out an exchange ourselves, don’t you think?”

There was a good few seconds of strong eye contact. One that closely resembled the kind of stand off you would see in old western movies.

But eventually, his head lowered when you held no reaction to his persistence, even stilled it there when he spat out a glob of spit onto the sandy dirt below.

And then he turned, walking back to the car with a flurry of emotions that visibly affected the way his legs moved.

Your expression was stern as you watched him regardless of the fact that he couldn’t see it, a weird feeling now residing in your chest from the previous actions. I mean, it was like a want. An insistence of Gustavo’s whereabouts.

Gustavo was a businessman. He was the owner of something so large that he couldn’t possibly be everywhere at once, or be the one to do things all the time, so it was more common for other people, like you or Victor, even Mike, to be the ones at exchanges. Especially if the outcome wasn’t something that heavily impacted the business.

Hell, you were just trying to collect new versions of equipment that had been busted from too much usage, this whole interaction had been strange from the get-go.

He had been late, wanted to speak to no one other than Gustavo, despite the fact that the needed task was just handing over the machines, so that you could give him the money in return.

Even with the amount of thoughts that were running through your mind, in the next moment, it seemed that by the time your attention had refocused the realisation of a problem came a bit too late.

The man, who you still didn’t know the name of, had arrived at the side of his car. But instead of moving to the back, where you were assuming was the equipment covered by that tarp, he had stilled at the window of the passenger seat.

You couldn’t exactly pull a machine through a window now could you?

Just as you had retrieved your gun from your belt, and was so close to properly gripping it in your hand, a shot rang through the vast area.

It snagged the weapon, narrowly missing your fingers in the process, and you immediately retracted your hand, watching in mild shock as it fell to the sand below.

Damnit. He’s trained.

Unlike what the rest of your body wanted to do in that moment, your legs sprang into action like your life depended on it. Because it in fact did this time.

You swerved, dodged and weaved as bullets began to pang off of walls and the empty shells of cars that were just left, clouds of dust beginning to gather in the air the further you went.

Situations like this weren’t exactly unusual. Contact with other business went sideways more than anyone would really like to admit, hence the need to carry weapons at all times.

The only difference now was that you were the direct target.

You rounded the corner of the closest part of the abandoned building, heart pounding in your chest, your ears, and chorusing with the bullets that continued to fire despite not even being in view anymore.

Your feet skidded to a stop, your eyes frantically searching through the area for some kind of hiding spot or at least something that would give you time to make a plan.

But just as you made a decision, that would’ve at least lead you to your next option if it went sideways, a shot echoed through the surrounding walls.

A sound uncontrollably escaped your throat. Your body jolted, knees eager to bend as you staggered forwards, a sense of determination bubbling in your system more than it ever had.

However, before you could have even prepared, something collided with the middle of your back with full intent. 

It sent you tumbling forward. Your knees were the first to connect with the ground below until your hands followed, the sand beginning to roast the pads of your fingers.

But of course, due to the combination of your lack of ability to comprehend the situation, and an increasing pain somewhere in your side, you couldn’t keep yourself stabilised for long.

You fell on your stomach, the exhaustion from the heat finally creeping in the last moment that it needed to.

“Listen,” you croaked out after a cough, still trying to pull yourself towards your chosen hiding spot despite the inability to basically move, “You want-- You want Gustavo, right? Why not… You can’t get to him if you kill-- kill me.”

There was no point in bargaining. You knew that. You knew that this was pre-planned, and that it in fact was meant for Gus.

But they could easily settle on the next best thing if the intent was to impact him.

And you were right.

Each of your legs were grasped in either of his hands within the next second, and before you could grab the sand beneath you, even if your fingers would’ve immediately sunk through, he began pulling you towards him.

In the blink of an eye, your body got flipped over, your spine now slamming into the sand. An indescribable pain seared through your side, and despite the urge to arch your back as if it would get you away from the feeling, your eyes went wide. And you swung, arm aimed at the first body part that was close enough.

His gun fell to the side.

There was a yell of annoyance that bellowed from the man above, and when you tried to move a fist decided to meet with your face in a way that had your ears purely ringing.

It was almost like your brain was forgetting basic functions. You could barely remember how to move your eyes, or even breathe, for a terrifying few seconds.

You had previously thrashed in a way that made the man falter, almost losing his balance. It wasn’t until he was trying to push himself to stand that something managed to form in your head.

Your legs trapped his own despite their weakness and while the man battled with a pair of limbs, cursing in ways that you couldn’t imagine, your hand subtly moved to the side, gliding across the surface of the sand.

Until they met with metal.

The vision through your eyes was blurry from the previous attacks and now from the direction off the sun that beamed right on you. But somehow you still managed to find your aim.

The man twisted back round when he heard that familiar click and his eyes widened as much as they physically could, “No--”

The shot echoed more times that you could count, bouncing off of every possible surface, through the building and on the walls like a game of ping pong.

And then something slumped, falling to the side almost in slow motion until it collided with the ground.

You got him.

All at once the adrenaline rush slowed and the pain in your face, with a sort of burning sensation somewhere else in your upper body, intensified so much that you could barely move.

A shaky whine pushed through your lips as you began to pat around your torso, trying to find the large source of pain.

And then you got to your left side.

It seems that he got you first.

“Shit.” you seethed through gritted teeth and lowered your increasingly weak arm back down to let your hand gain access to a pocket. Your fingers dug through the fabric compartment, grabbed at a device before, unsteadily, pulling it out.

There was no way that you would be able to sit up so you did your best to lift the phone in front of your face, but even when it was flipped open, your vision shook with your heaving chest.

It felt like years had passed by the time you had managed to push a certain order of buttons in, and as soon as it began to ring, you let it drop, your arm smacking into the ground next to your side.

Finally, there was an answer.

The phone hadn’t landed that far away from your head, but it was enough so that when a voice crackled through the speaker, you couldn’t hear it over the sound of your heartbeat and the ragged breaths that rasped from your throat.

You coughed, “Hey, Mike. You, uh… You’re not busy, right?” Your voice was strained despite how hard you were trying to play off your injuries, but when you put pressure on the most important wound to limit the blood loss. It was a little hard to maintain.

“It’s not been a very nice tea party.”

~

The surrounding room would’ve been quiet if it wasn’t for the monotonous beeps from machines that sounded more hypnotic as time went on.

The lighting was dull, barely reflecting off of the walls, with no help from the world outside as by now it had apparently grown dark. Though, due to the ache that consumed almost every part of your head, it made you very grateful.

Your gaze was set on the window on the other side of the room, one used so that doctors could see their patients at any given time if they weren’t able to hear them first.

Gustavo had arrived, stood in the brighter hallway and talking to a doctor you were still getting use to interacting with yourself.

The expression on his face was a mixture of the one he held when interacting with the general public and this intensity that would be difficult for other people to notice upon first glance.

But not you.

After almost every sentence spoken by the doctor, the man had sent a glance your way. A look that could almost make you feel exactly how he did, regardless of the fact that it wasn’t fully readable.

And before there was even an attempt to try, you found yourself breaking the eye contact, sinking the back of your head further into your pillow as it seemed that your mind only now was capturing onto the fact that you were indeed awake.

From what you could hear from the muffled conversation going on outside, and what you had been previous told, the bullet had luckily missed major arteries or organs that would’ve cost everything if hit.

But even so, especially now that it had been removed, that didn’t mean it wasn’t still going to hurt like hell.

You had been issued pain medication at a time that couldn’t be remembered off the bat, but it seemed that it hadn’t met the 30 minute mark yet. Meaning that it wasn’t properly in your system.

By the time your eyes focused back through the window, Gustavo had a smile stiffly pressed onto his lips. The two of them were shaking hands, sharing words that you couldn’t quite catch, and then the doctor turned, resuming the work they were previously doing before he had arrived.

In that moment, the emotion held on Gustavo's face had disappeared by the next time your heavy eyelids had allowed themselves to blink. It was almost like he was in a trance for a good second, his eyes unfocused as they stared off down the hallway.

And then he snapped back.

This time when he faced the room, his attention never went to you. He simply opened the door, walked through and then closed it behind himself. A movement that engulfed the surrounding area in a quietness that even the machines couldn’t help.

He stood closer to the back wall than the edge of your bed. His body was still, stance almost like a soldier, as his gaze remained aimed at whatever was in front of him. You really wished you could read minds.

“Have the doctors updated you on your condition?”

Despite the small room, there was a lack of fullness to his voice. Like it was from somewhere in the distance even though he was right there.

“Yeah,” The grogginess from waking up not that long ago was still fresh in your system even with the activeness of your mind, so when you attempted to shuffle yourself to get a better view of Gustavo you had barely even moved. “Though I could’ve make an educated guess anyway.”

His response was a mere hum, still remaining in the same position as before. It was a thing that made your eyebrows twitch, unsure if he had even meant to make that sound in the first place.

“I would’ve had you put in a more private place, but... I was was told there wasn’t enough time.” That was when he moved for the first time since entering the room. His head lowered, eyes now cast down to his shoes like they were the most interesting thing in the room. “I know you don’t like hospitals.”

Your gaze moved upwards as you turned your head towards the ceiling, a huff of air passing through your lips, “Well, I already had the surgery... Just need to be patient now.”

“I wish there were better channels on these TVs though,” you then added, attempting to break the tension surrounding every corner in the room, but when you moved your head again, you found Gustavo starting to walk.

His steps were almost silent despite what his shoes were made of. He moved slow, precise even if his attention wasn’t on the floor anymore.

And soon Gustavo had arrived at the window that looked out onto the world below. You had no idea what floor you were on but it was most likely about halfway as the sound of cars could still be heard, though a bit muffled.

Somehow the more time he spent facing away from you, the more a nervousness began to ignite within your chest.

The way he was acting was something you had only seen when he was disappointed. Upset about how a situation had gone enough so that he needed time to compose himself before speaking.

So, even if most of your body couldn’t be bothered to move, you found a way to fidget.

You stared at the wall on the other side of your bed. A multitude of fresh thoughts and worries swarming your mind in a way that was almost suffocating, until they couldn’t be contained anymore.

You cleared your throat, finally finding your voice despite the utter dread of doing so. “I’m sorry.”

The sound of the heart monitor could literally be heard speeding up as your words fully settled through the air.

“Pardon?”

Your eyes may have still been aimed at the wall, but from the corner, you could see Gustavo twist away from the window. An action that didn’t at all help your nerves.

The next time you took a breath, you had almost gulped, “I realised what had been planned too late.”

“If that had happened anywhere else, I could’ve ruined the business... Lost progress.”

It was only when a new worry, the realisation of another action that had the possibility of many consequences, that you found the ability to actually look at Gustavo, “You got the machines, right?”

His brows were furrowed enough that the skin surrounding them was intensely crinkled, his eyes narrowed in a disbelief that you had never seen him display.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Y/n.” was all he managed for a moment, his voice going back to that lack of fullness that in turn had your eyebrows furrowing. “Did they tell you what happened? Everything?”

“You were injured during a job I set for you.” His eyes were wider now, the once clouded look within them forming into a sense of clarity though the disbelief still remained.

“And I could’ve ruined everything.” The emotions each of you felt were clashing, the brain working in the wonderous ways it always did as you both had very different viewpoints of the situation. The hard part was getting the other to understand why.

“There is a lot more important things than machines, Y/n.” Gustavo pointed out and took a few steps forward so that he was further from the window.

There was a sense of annoyance now travelling through your tired system, the irritation built up over the entire day officially starting to spark, “Which is exactly why I am trying to apologise.”

“For what? Not knowing that you were going be attacked?”

You shook your head, breaking the intense eye contact as your gaze went back to the ceiling.

Arguing was the last thing that you wanted to do right now. You were tired, weak, hungry, and now had an anger that was eager to erupt.

Two people at fault but both only thinking that one is.

After a few moments of being absorbed by those monotonous beeps again, a deep sigh could be heard. Even though you couldn’t see him anymore, it was clear that he had finally allowed his shoulders to lower. Deflate. “You got hurt.”

“Well, I think I know that, Gus.” you blurted out as your mouth seemed to be faster than your brain. Something that you immediately regretted. “Look...” You raised your head again, your hands subconsciously gliding to where your bandages grasped to your skin, “What happened... Happened.”

“It’s over... Okay-- It doesn’t matter anymore.”

It was a sentence meant to ease the situation. Words formed in a eagerness to get this whole thing over and done with, because you were quite frankly over it yourself, wanting nothing more than to fall into an incredibly deep sleep.

But all it did was make the lines of Gustavo’s face more prominent. The look across it formed into an expression that almost mimicked offense. “Doesn’t... Doesn’t matter-- Listen to yourself.”

“Why aren’t you taking this situation more seriously?”

“Well, did you get what you were after?” you questioned, trying to find at least some form of middle ground that you could then use to clear this whole thing up.

Gustavo scoffed, “I can’t believe you.” He turned himself around again, adopting the same stance from before as he stared through the window.

Your eyebrows were furrowed as much as they possibly could at this point, “Why? This isn’t the first time that something like this has happened, Gus-- Hell, it will happen again.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“It can’t.”

“What do you-- What do you mean it can’t, Gustavo?” you huffed out, the sound almost becoming gargled as you began to push yourself to sit up. But you were determined to ignore the pain pulsing in your side. A deep breath shook through your lips when you got upright.

You carefully began to shuffle yourself backwards, trying to lean more comfortably against the bed, and only made an attempt to speak when you had fully decided your positioning, “The more we progress, the more likely stuff like this is going to take place. You of all people should know that--”

“You almost died!”

It felt like time had stopped for a good minute.

The sound had rung longer than the sentence itself, but you couldn’t tell if it was just the way your mind attempted to process it, or if it was really that loud.

Gustavo had faced you once again, only this time there was this active rage that covered almost every visible inch of him in a way that heavily contrasted the usual stoicism.

It was barely seen, but it looked like his shoulders lowered and raised with every breath. Like he was heaving. Heaving with disbelief, anger... and fear?

“You almost... You.” he had attempted to repeat, but there was this lack of control. An inability to get himself together like he always managed to do any other day.

He took in a deep breath, one that shook more than yours had, and practically forced himself to stand straight, “That attack was meant for me.”

“Because I got... interrupted, I wasn’t there... and then you became the target.” He was trying to gather himself. Trying to make himself look how he usually did by straightening his spine, raising his chin and adopting an expression devoid of any emotion.

But despite trying to adjust the mask.

It was starting to crack.

“Gustavo.”

“I should have gone.” His voice was barely above a whisper now.

To the naked eye he was ridged, but there was this shakiness that could be seen the longer your eyes stayed on him, “I should be the one in that bed... not you.”

“You could’ve...”

One half of his nose slightly crinkled after a moment, in turn raising the left side of his top lip, and he visibly swallowed like the words he was going to speak had a horrid taste.

And then you spotted it.

It was difficult to properly see Gustavo’s eyes through the glasses as light sources reflected onto the lenses almost everywhere he looked, and at first you thought it was in fact just some reflected light.

But it would disappear when he blinked.

“Gustavo.” you spoke after a moment, practically forgetting what you sounded like at this point, and it seemed to snap the man out of his thoughts. “Close the blinds.”

At first he just furrowed his eyebrows. His dazed eyes finally moved from where they had zoned in to meet your own with a sudden confusion. And then they followed the finger pointed towards the window for the doctors.

The abrupt change in atmosphere had him just standing there for a moment, but then due to the crowdedness of his mind, it seemed that it just went on autopilot. He walked through the room, same pace and quietness as before, until he arrived at yet another window.

He cleared his throat, picked the left blind cord to take between two of his fingers and then pulled at it, taking one final look at the hallways outside before they were officially closed.

Now, the lighting of the room was increasingly lowered. You still had a slight source from the sky, but time had done what it did best. It barely brought anything to help maintain the light.

But that was the least of your concerns.

The moment those blinds had reached the ledge of the window, Gustavo's hands pressed onto either side of the surface, and he leant his weight into it in a way that seemed to take it off of his shoulders as they visibly slacked.

It was a movement that had you just staring for a good few seconds.

This was not the Gustavo that you knew. This man before you was not in control of his expressions, the way that he spoke, the way he stood. This was not a man who rose above and administered fear into anyone even if that wasn’t his intent.

This was just a man.

Just Gus.

You, very stiffly, began to try and shuffle yourself sideway across the bed. You didn’t care about the pain that pulsed through your torso, or how it felt like your arms were going to either bend or snap. You kept moving, and only stopped when it was clear to do so.

Pins and needles began to spread through your hand as you patted it down in the space you had created, turning your head more in his direction as you expected him to respond.

But he didn’t.

You stifled a sigh, “Come here, Gustavo.”

He needed a proper command. A verbal set of words that allowed him to comply to the urge you placed in his head. So, after trying to swallow the feelings that were appearing once again, he turned around.

Though this time when he fully faced you, instead of pausing like he needed to convince himself to actually walk, he moved the second his eyes lay on you.

His pace was slow like before, each step getting heavier than the previous one.

He understood.

He understood why you had been acting the way you did, wanted nothing more than to change the subject, and now why you had asked him to close the blinds.

It was to stop the outside from seeing in. Not let any other person bear witness to a moment just for the two of you.

Gustavo lowered himself to sit on the bed, his eyes not daring to leave your own in a way that properly allowed you to see behind the lenses of those glasses.

There was a line of water just peaking over the lower lid. His blinks may have subsided most of it, but it would always come back with the same amount. Sometimes even more.

“I shouldn’t have let you do the job alone.” Gustavo insisted, but it had you shake your head within seconds. “Hey,”

You took one of his hands between yours, trying to shift just a tad bit closer to him even if it hurt, “Gustavo, you need to understand that even if there was another person there, the same thing would’ve happened-- Another person would’ve been hurt instead of just me.”

“Someone would still get shot.”

That was when the eye contact had been broken.

He knew you were right. He knew that even if he had found out what had happened sooner, he wouldn’t have gotten there fast enough to do anything about it.

But there was a vast difference between understanding something and accepting it.

The expression on his face was so unusual to see, more so because it genuinely conveyed his feelings. You could see it in his eyes, the way his lips were starting to press together. Utter guilt despite the continuous insistence that it wasn’t his fault.

The action of removing your hands from his had him out of his thoughts again, though it wasn’t until he blinked that he felt where they had gone.

Each of your palms were placed on either side of his face, the centre firm against his set jaw.

The thumbs of your hands resided above the rest of your fingers, lightly gliding across the textured skin of Gustavo’s cheeks in a way that had him instinctively closing his eyes.

The weight of his head in your hold grew and it looked as if the tension in his muscled finally let him relax, even if it was just for a moment. You wanted him to stay like that forever.

“I’m glad you weren’t there, Gustavo.”

And just like that, the sentence had practically undone the moment of peace. But even when he went to lean back, he made sure that it was a distance that would keep your hands on his face.

The edges of his eyebrows were crinkled again, a mixture of concern and confusion purely visible, “How?”

The way he asked had a smile begging to curl at your lips. Though, due to the muscles of your face being too tired at this point and the fact that this definitely wasn’t the time to do so, you ignored it. “If it was you that got attacked instead of me, they wouldn’t have stopped until there was nothing left.”

Your grasp on his face became a tad more firm. Your eyes began to travel, thinking about the fact that you had never seen him so close for this amount of time before. “A shot in the side means nothing to me.”

“Y/n, how can you possibly say that?” The concern spread further than it had done before, now beginning to form into that same disbelief like it had earlier.

You slightly lowered your chin after a minute, making sure that your eyeline was directly connected to his. And then you just shrugged, a wave of emotions flooding your system at a sudden sense of safety that you had yearned to feel all day, “Because,”

“I would rather die, knowing that you were somewhere safe... alive. Than breathe in a world where you aren’t doing the same.”

It felt like it was going to be another one of those moments. The two of you just going to stare into each others eyes, equally lost. No words available that could even scratch the surface of what either of you felt.

Though it seemed that Gustavo’s ability to maintain a calm exterior faltered. He began to crumble.

His his eyebrows pinched together suddenly, his bottom lip slowly pushing upwards until it shook, and then he lowered his head out of your grasp, a wavering breath huffing out of his mouth.

He tried to speak. Tried to express something that ultimately would be left unknown as he just gave up. Understanding that it wouldn’t be able to come out the way that he wanted it to.

So, he just... sort of slumped. His head dipped a little more, his hand reaching up to grab the glasses that were close to falling.

He was overtaken. Emotions active more than he had let it in so long. Gustavo tried to wipe them away, tried to rid his eyes of the water that practically felt like a river pushing to flood.

But the dam had already been broken.

He just sat there, hands now pressed to face in an attempt to block the tears from going anywhere, even if they had already began to trail between his fingers.

You took the glasses that were almost crumpled in his grasp before folding the legs, and then slowly placed them on the bedside table while trying to ignore the pain that pulsed in your side from the stretch.

You subtly gritted your teeth, willing to forget about any feeling that was trying to present itself as you wanted to focus on Gustavo. You needed to.

So, you reached out, waiting for your hand to cup the back of his head before slowly beginning to guide it forward in a way that ultimately made the rest of his body follow.

And soon, he was laid across your chest, careful to avoid your injury.

The side of his head had managed to make his ear press right over where your heart was. Something that seemed to trigger Gustavo the moment he registered both the feeling and the sound.

Because, for the first time since he had entered the room or laid eyes on you through the window that had now been closed. He had actual confirmation that wasn’t just words from a doctor.

You were not some sick hallucination that was playing his mind, or a lie that he was trying to convince himself of in an attempt to avoid a painful truth and make him feel better. No. You were real.

You were alive.

The next breath that Gustavo took was cut quite abruptly like another had just pushed itself out. It was a sound that caught you off guard, one that you didn’t initially know how to respond to as you thought you were just hearing things.

But then it happened again... and then again. A sound that almost made it seem like he had forgotten how to breathe.

And then you heard what it was trying to cover, something else breaking through the harsh huffs of air.

He was crying.

Properly crying.

Gustavo removed one of the hands from his face and reached it under your arm so that he could grab the back of your shoulder, his fingers grasping onto the fabric the moment they made contact.

It had your arms wrapping around his body within seconds, especially when it had begun to rack with almost guttural like sounds.

His head was fully pressed into your chest now, each of his hands holding onto an arm or a shoulder tightly with such desperation as if you were going to disappear if he let go.

So, you didn’t dare move. You just held him there, unable to escape another pain as you had to simply lay in that bed, holding something that was releasing such raw cries.

Gustavo couldn’t even recognise the sounds himself. The way his body responded, the tears falling freely from his eyes, the harshness that the sobs were rushing out of his lungs. It was unfamiliar. A foreign feeling that swirled through everything else.

Truthfully, he could remember the last time he cried in such a way. He could remember when his feelings were shoved out of him regardless of his wants.

But he couldn’t think of any time when he had allowed himself to do it on his own.

Until now.

~~~

The next few days were filled with pretty much the same routine.

Your injuries would get checked, treated again if the doctors saw fit, and you had to do everything in your power to keep yourself entertained as the channels still weren’t giving you much.

And then, when it would get dark, Gustavo appeared.

He would bring this homemade soup almost every night that had your stomach growling before he had even arrived. It was also a decent sized cup, meaning that if you didn’t finish it, the hospital could store it and reheat it for lunch the next day.

Maybe after a while, others would think that having soup for more than a week would get old at some point... But no. In fact there was different ingredients used in every batch. The change could be miniscule but it was still effective.

The rest of the routine got old fast though. The days started merging, and it soon made you become unsure of when the next started or ended, as it seemed like you had forgotten how to sleep at normal times due to your exhausted system.

But then the time finally came.

The discharge from hospital.

Obviously there was still a whole lot of resting, healing and overall taking everything slow coming your way, which was a hundred percent going to prove to be a challenge. However, with the way that Gustavo appeared right by your side, even if it was just a facial expression that proved you were having difficulty, it gave you enough assurance. Comfort.

There was no word to accurately express your feelings the moment the car had pulled to a stop in the driveway. Your driveway.

What you saw out the window wasn’t a picture you had tried to think up multiple times in your head. It was just right in front of you. A house that seemed larger than you had remembered.

It almost startled you when the car door suddenly got pulled open, but after a blink you registered his figure, spotted the hands that were out and ready to aid you.

The process of shimmying your way off of the car seat was a bit of a hassle, however, your legs eventually hung out of the car, feet finally meeting with solid ground once again.

Soon, you had actually arrived inside the house. 

Gustavo was to your right, stood carefully, in a way that would completely cross out any possibility of further injuring the other side of your body, as he guided you through those familiar halls which almost gave you a feeling of nostalgia. Even if it wasn’t that long ago that you walked within them.

A new wave of tiredness hit you after about a step into the living room you had yearned to see. 

Everything looked the same, furniture and even the objects of décor still placed so intricately as if the room hadn’t been lived in or touched.

It smelled the same too.

“Were you cooking this morning?” you questioned, voice a bit more groggy than before, as a sort of smoky scent presented itself to your nostrils. Gustavo hummed, carefully pulling at your shoulder to direct you around the rectangular coffee table.

“You know I can walk by myself, right?” you pointed out, trying to turn your head to get a look at his face but he had moved behind you when the two of you got between the edge of the table and an armchair at the same time.

“Of course.” was all Gustavo said, still holding onto you regardless. And finally, you had reached the couch of your dreams.

Even though you had been laying around all day every day for weeks on end, the relief that filled your system over not having to walk anymore almost had your knees buckling.

“Okay,” Gustavo spoke just above a whisper, lightly turning you so that you faced the TV, “Slowly.”

A deep breath sifted in and out of your lungs. Your grip on his arm tightened and after looking in his eyes for a good few seconds, you began to lower yourself in the speed he insisted on. “There you go.”

“You’re doing just fine.”

Your nose was scrunched, along with your eyes, the further you bent as the movement slightly began to fold more and more of your body. You lost count of how many times you tried to stifle a hiss from the sharp pains that kept coming.

But even when officially sat down on the soft couch, the discomfort unfortunately remained.

You slowly leaned backwards, allowing your injured side to stretch out in a way that was fully comfortable, until your back pressed into the pillows. There was a sigh of relief that huffed out of your mouth all at once and it had the tiniest smile curling at Gustavo’s lips.

“Better?” he questioned and despite your urge to close your eyes, you just looked at him. “Better. Thank you,” you confirmed, reaching out to grab one of his hands.

But before your own could meet his, it had suddenly lowered with the rest of his body. Your eyebrows furrowed as you watched him get onto his knees, even pushing the coffee table away so that he had more space.

And then his hands landed on your shoes, “Oh, Gustavo, you don’t--”

“Relax.”

He lifted one foot at a time, placing the bottom of your shoe on his thigh so that he could properly attack the laces. And soon, both pairs were off of your feet, now held in a singular hand.

“You didn’t have to do that.” Your voice was more hushed this time, timid, as you looked down at the man who now was just looking right back at you. And then he smiled. Such a simple, but full, smile that fit his face perfectly.

Gustavo then pressed his free hand onto the floor, moved himself back a little, and then let out a slight grunt as pushed himself up to his feet.

When he had done so you had thought he was just go, leave to bring the shoes to the area you usually kept them, so you had started to shuffle your self further into the couch.

But the next thing you knew, one of your hands was brough in a gentle grasp. The step that Gustavo had taken was to get closer to the couch, and you.

He sort of hunched forward after a moment, bringing your intertwined hands his way. And then, when it was at a perfect distance, he turned them until the back of your palm faced him.

He brought his lips to your warm skin, the soft but mildly jagged skin pressing down for a good few seconds as the breath through his nostrils slightly tickled you. And then he lifted his head a little.

Gustavo met your eyes with such a wide smile that it had almost bared his teeth.

“I did.”

And after a quick squeeze to your hand, that was that. He let go.

Gustavo adjusted the grip he had on the shoes in his other hand and simply turned, retracing his steps around the coffee table before disappearing into the hallway.

Your hand was still hung in the air. Stuck same position it had been when with Gustavo’s... and then you left it fall to your chest, landing right on top of your heart that was beating so fast that you could immediately feel it.

The smile on your face was one that felt impossibly to get off.

There was a long journey still to go, and a lot of pain to follow, but there was almost no worry when you thought about it. Because, like you had convinced to convince Gustavo of earlier, you made it.

You made it back home.

[puddle-nerd]

Flirt

Summary: Guess he really was trying to flirt with you after all… Not that you were complaining in the least.

Prompt #3 for my submission for #𝐂𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬𝟏𝟒𝐃𝐎𝐋𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

Story Tags: No use of Y/N, Female Reader, Omatikaya | Blue Flute Clan, Na’vi Language, Friendship, Flirting

Na’vi Translation: Iknimaya – (Na’vi for “Stairway to Heaven”) is a treacherous but fundamental rite of passage in which a young Na’vi hunter must select, capture, and successfully bond with one of the ikran who nest in the Hallelujah Mountains Ikran – also known as a banshee are large, dragon-like aerial predators that can be found roosting on the various cliff sides on the Hallelujah Mountains often being used by the Na’vi for traveling long distances, for hunting from the air, or even during times of war Kelku – home | house Syaksyuk – also called “Prolemuris”, they are chattering, non-aggressive tree dwellers that lives in the canopy, as opposed to the dangerous forest floor and are similar to the monkeys and apes of Earth Uniltìranyu – Dreamwalker

AO3 Link

It was a rare day when you didn’t want to do actual work of teaching Jake the ways of your people – you usually had a very good work ethic amongst the people of your village, so when you wanted to skive off like you did today… instead of teaching him anything super important like you were supposed to, you decided to take a run through the forests of your home and were also watching his reaction as he took in the beauty and marvel of your world. So full of many beautiful colors and so much life. You ducked around tress and dodged vegetation, giggling as the Dreamwalker loped after you, your amber eyes sparkling as you noticed that way that he switched between chasing you and admiring everything that he didn’t have on his own home planet. You sniggered and came to a halt, laughing as he absently lurched into you, his golden gaze stuck upwards upon a conspiracy of syaksyuk feasting on fruits some meters overhead, their blue and green patched skin good camouflage when they weren’t swinging through the trees or gliding through the air with their skin flaps.

“They will not hurt you, Tsyeyk Suli,” you commented.

Jake glanced down at you and then back up at the small-ish creature. He grinned and watched as a mother syaksyuk held her baby her front and was able to grab another fruit to feed herself and the infant creature with her other limb.

“Come,” you murmured, tugging on his arm.

Taking off into the trees, you came to one of your favorites and began to climb, nimbly scaling the moss-covered bark upwards. Jake was improving in skill and remained only slightly behind you as you both rose higher and higher up the gigantic sapling. And when you got to one of the top branches, he made a noise of awe, just as you had hoped to garner from him. You grinned and gazed out at the picturesque landscape of your forest and sighed, unable to imagine anything more beautiful than this. And in the distance, you could see Hometree, at least a dozen of ikran flying around its upper branches.

“When you are ready, Tsyeyk Suli,” you told the Dreamwalker, “you will perform your Iknimaya and bond with your own ikran. It is… a most freeing feeling… bonding and flying with them.”

“So, it is one of your all-time favorite feelings?” Jake asked, watching the dragon-like creatures dive and flap through the air playfully for a moment longer. You nodded and let out a contented sigh. The two of you sat down upon the moss-covered branch together, his knee brushing against the outside of your thigh and he asked you curiously, “What is another of your all-time favorite feelings? Or… uh, what is one of your favorite things to do besides flying? Maybe something we could do together?” You raised a naked brow bone at him and grinned as his sapphire cheeks flared a darker color and he stumbled over his words.

Was he attempting to flirt with you?

You grinned and asked, “Can you swim, uniltìranyu?”

And that was how you and Jake found yourself at your favorite swimming hole after another run through the forests. Luckily, there wasn’t very many people there to spoil your time with him, just a couple of mothers and their childlings at the far, shallow end of the lake and you dove into the refreshingly cool water, smirking as Jake sauntered into the water much more sedately behind you, a grin splitting his face nearly in half. You splashed him when he got too close and then it devolved from there, swimming around each other, smacking and throwing water at each other and just enjoying the day as you saw fit. His hands seemed to linger every time he got close to you, his grip possessive as he pulled you close before you escaped with a squeal each time.

When the two of you had begun to tire, you crawled out of the lake and settled upon the lush grass next to each other, his tail coming to intertwine with yours. “When I become a full member of the Omatikaya, what other kinds of things can I expect?” he broke the silence with that question. You rolled your head towards Jake and cocked a curious browbone at him. You admitted that you didn’t understand his enquiry and he sighed, rubbing at his face before trying again. Jake bit his lower lip and rolled onto his side, propping his chin upwards with a bent arm, his muscles flexing under your gaze. He explained, “I am only considered one of The People after my second birth, yes?” You nodded, agreeing with his question. “Once I am a full member… will I be allowed to… have my own home like I have seen others have?” You weren’t sure but you felt as if he changed his question at the last moment. You nodded again, expounding on his knowledge as you said, “You will be able to have your own kelku. You will also be able to choose a woman – or a man – to mate with as you like,” Jake smirked, “as long as they choose you in return, uniltìranyu.” His gaze swept over you and grinned, meeting your gaze with a heated set of golden eyes, “I have that to look forward to.” You flushed as he winked your way as well. Guess he really was trying to flirt with you after all… Not that you were complaining in the least.

𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸

Originally Posted: 03 February 2024 Word Count: 927

@crybabies-heart, @cryingwhilereading, @ikeyniofthetayrangi, @erenjaegerwifee, @bambithewriter, @lloreya

AO3 Link

[houseofbrat]

Remember ten days ago when Trump was almost assassinated?

What will the political landscape look like ten days from now?

Things are moving and moving fast.

Walter & Matt do the best breakdown of the last 24 or perhaps last 96 hours.

But as Matt wrote in his substack post today, "Who's Running the Country?"

WHO’S IN CHARGE? After Biden’s cryptic letter came out yesterday, a slew of elected Democrats, including rumored potential candidates like Gretchen Whitmer, Kentucky Governor Andy Beshear, Pennsylvania’s Josh Shapiro, California’s Gavin Newsom, and both Bill and Hillary Clinton, all swiftly endorsed Harris. Harris instantly had her own campaign site, suggesting significant lead time and planning. Even JoeBiden.com immediately became a mirror to the Harris site, while Biden’s Twitter face page was refashioned to feature a Harris 2024 banner. For all the world, it looked as if the party had unanimously decided to throw its weight behind Kamala, and well before the weekend, too. However, Barack Obama did not endorse Harris, nor did Chuck Schumer, Nancy Pelosi, or Cory Booker. We’re being told in numerous press accounts by more “people familiar with the matter” that this is all a mere formality, and the party leaders are “firmly” and “without reservation” behind Kamala Harris. But are they? Some sources aren’t sure.

Although the top candidates seem to be publicly coalescing around Harris, I heard late last night this may be a temporary stance, held until the Democrats are sure Joe Biden’s $239 million war chest will transfer to Kamala’s hands without issue. The Republicans are preparing a legal challenge if Democrats attempt to pass on Biden’s cash, arguing the pair needed to be officially nominated before such a handoff could legally take place. “Biden can’t transfer his money to Harris because it was raised under his own name, and there is no legal mechanism,” said GOP lawyer Charlie Spies. Eugene Munin, a former General Counsel for the Chicago Transit Authority who’s worked on election law issues, said the status of the Biden funds represents a bit of a “gray area” legally. “I don’t think it’s definitive at all that she can just declare that she’s now a candidate for president and start spending that money as a candidate for president,” Munin says.

At least one Democratic consultant and several Republicans believe the fate of Harris is tied to two factors: how well the public responds to her in the next week or so, and whether or not the funds issue can be resolved quickly enough to allow her to begin aggressively advertising her candidacy. Despite the quick endorsements there have been signs of unease. Just this past Friday afternoon, Harris held a conference call for top donors to what was then still the Biden-Harris campaign. She showed up a half-hour late and said little except that they were going to win. “Everyone was pissed after the call,” one donor told the Washington Post, recalling the disastrous end of Harris’ 2020 run, also marked by internal frustrations about the future Vice President’s behavior (“I have never seen an organization treat its staff so poorly,” one Harris official wrote in a letter published by the New York Times). Rumors that have persisted since Biden’s own Hindenburg debate performance that top-level Democrats are less than thrilled with the prospect of a Harris run. The Times ran a long house editorial yesterday rejecting the idea of anointing Harris, hinting at electability issues and calling for a candidate to emerge from “process of public scrutiny” instead. Senior Democrats will watch to see how Kamala holds up under a few weeks of Internet fragging — millions are about to become introduced to the phrase “what can be, unburdened by what has been” — and then decide. How that decision is made, however, will tell us a lot about the question that matters more than anything right now: who’s America’s president right now? Obama? The Clintons? Politico’s “Why Biden Dropped Out”account claimed congressional leaders (“Chuck, Hakeem, Pelosi”) left the horse head in the president’s bed, while multiple Republican sources also pointed to Pelosi and Obama’s non-endorsements, reflecting a belief on the Trump side that the key to gauging Democratic strategy going forward will involve watching those two politicians. The only person we know for sure isn’t currently running things is Joe Biden.

But is Kamala about to get shanked in a week or two?

This is what the folks in my inbox don't seem to get.

As i noted earlier today, plenty of people behind closed doors don't think Kamala can win.

And it was less than a month ago that the Biden-Trump debate happened.

Things are moving fast folks.

Hold on to your seatbelts!

[swords-of-a-soilder]

The Healing Process

Chapters 19

A Warning

Phil tap his feet as he sloughed in the purple love seat across from Roier whom was dressed in a beautiful red dress and marvelous wig. He tap their pen on the clipboard as he waited for Phil to speak; but grew inpatient and decided on just starting the conversation.

"How are you feeling today?" He started, "any particular feeling you can hammer down?"

Phil shrugged his shoulders but stayed silent, his eyes started out the window to the landscape behind them, Roier wrote something down in his notebook with half lid eyes, "Well surly watching your friend die is enough to put anyone in emotional distressed.. do you blame yourself?"

"I'm sorry mate?" Phil asked with a nervouse chukkle.

"Cellbit tells me you've been isolating yourself since previous events." He began, "I suppose what I'm asking is, is this a form of punishment, do you think you should be blame and thus you're isolating yourself from confort?"

Phil eyebrows knitt in annoyance as he scoffed, "I don't want to being comforted because I don't wanna be pitted."

"Oh yeah, you seem to highly dislike being pitted.. why is that?"

"Because.. everyone looks down on you like some kind of helpless animal!" Phil explained, "it's patriozing, I don't wanna be the sickly baby bird everyone is fawning over, like any second if anyone even says his name I'm gonna.." Phil suddenly fell quite, starring upwards to stop his flowing tears, to no avail.

Roier grabbed the box of tissues nearby then offer them to Phil, whom cursed him under his breath as he took the box, "We've all been in need of help before, everyone on this island. It's not a crime to need support."

"I'm not the one who needs the most help right now, Richardlyson lost his father for Gods sake!" Phil debated as he pulled tissues from the box which he released his tears into.

"You watch your friends died right Infront of you," Roier rebuted"your pain is just as valid."

"I could of prevented this!" Phil double down, "I asked him about the goop he said it was nothing, I should have pushed him, I should have made his answer me!" He blew his nose loudly in a tissues then disgard it for another. "What kind of friend am?!"

"If I heard correctly, you were also suffering, you're being too hard on yourself."

"Everyone keeps fucking saying that; "you're being to hard on yourself, but I have to when I've gotten this weak!" Phill debated,

"People use to call me The Angle Of Death, I was terrifying and now...now I'm nobody... I'm not powerful, not scary, sure as hell not Strong. I couldn't even save my friend... God techno would be so disappointed in me.." Phil ended

Cellbit tapped his feet anxiously as he waited on a park bench, awaiting Phil return, soon enough Phil slowly approached an exhausted look in his puffy eyes.

Cellbit would hope the tears were a good sign, he'd been told it's not good to keep emotions in. "Did it go well?" Cellbit asked as he stood up.

"it went.." Phil cut himself off and instead processed down the path, "you said you found something?" He inquired

"Right well, it's certainly something."

Cellbit stood in awe at the sight Infront if him, a ocean partied in the Middle by a circular garden, with a path lead up to it. In the garden were humongous flowers among thick tall grass, guarding all this were two workers."looks like we have to get pass the workers some how." Cellbit Noted

"the audicity of these men." Phil complaining, "Guarding another man's birth right."

"huh?" Before he could inquire further Phil slide down the path then approached the workers with intent focus, the first working immediately put his hand out to stop Phil, who seemed extremely annoyed.

"you're in my way mate." Phill warned, "I just want to read the letter addressed to me." The guards shared glances with each other in thought, but ultimately decided against it.

The guard lowered his hand , still shaking his head no. Phil rolled his eyes, he then took his Cane in both hands which he used to bash the workers over the head knocking him out cold. instantly the other worker reached for his gun tucked in his belt, however before he could even pull it he'd feel the sharpness of a knife pushed against his neck.

"I don't think you want to do that." Cellbit warned with a whispered directly to the workers ear, "he'll respawn, what about you?"

The worker took the warning, slowly rasing his hand in the air to show defeat, Phil squint his eyes at the worker, then stole the gun for him, which he hide in his inventory. "Let him get his friend."

Cellbit obliged, releasing the worker who quickly tuned to his friend, he then return his knife to it's hiding spot . "Might wanna take him to a hospital mate," Phil mocked, "going unconscious like that could be a sign of brain damage."

They carried up the path ignoring the fustared worker, as they entered the beautiful structure. Cellbit took the time to observe the structure futher, he ran his fingers through the water, appualed to see fish swimming around it.

Soon a large sunkiss fish found his hand appealing and sawm around it, leaving Cellbit staring In wonder. Phil noting Cellbit absence turned to see him playing with said fish, thus he snuck his camera from his back pocket and snapped a quick picture of the scene.

Cellbit hearing the snap turn to find Phil fondling with his camera, with a smile he pulled his hand from the water as he approached Phil. "Did you get a good shot?" He tesaed

Phil snapped his head up, now aware Cellbit was above him, "I was just colleting evidence, "he lied as he buried the camera on his person.

"mhmm, sure." Cellbit teased further, in reality he was happy to see Phil even momenterly returning to himself. "I can't fault you for taking pictures, this place is beautiful!"

"Of course it is, Everything Rose makes is beautiful." Phil stated, he soon turn to a sniffle as tears push their way from his eyes. Cellbit moved closer, offering his handkerchief from his jacket as he inquired about Phil wellbeing.

"I'm fine, I'm fine!" Phil insist as he wipped his tears, "It's just Forever would say something like 'that includes you philza' and I would tease him like 'alright,ok' but secretly I'm flattered and I just.."

Cellbit watch in semi-concern, a part of him told him to comfort the old man yet this was the first time since it's happen that he'd be so vunerable. So instead he keep close, waiting for Phil to finish, and that he did.

"Fuck I didn't expect to miss him this much!" Phil complained with a sad chukkle, "I swear he's so annoying, why do I want him back? FUCK Cellbit I just really want him back."

Cellbit upon hearing his name rested his hand in his shoulder as an attempt to reassure him, it seemed to be helpful. "I know what you mean, I miss him like crazy everyday."he input, "Which is funny because normally he just pisses me off." He joked

Phil laugh along side him, then took a deep breath, he seems a little bit happier at the mention of Forever, maybe therapy was a good step after, he took one last sniff and completely wiped his tears, then handed Cellbit the handkerchief.

"okay," Phil Began, let's do this!" They may their way to the alter in the center of the garden, built from prissmarie decorated by coral. In the structure was a neatly placed book with Phil's name on the cover.

Phil fished the book from it's space then opened it as he began to read, Cellbit waited patiently for Phil to recount what he had read, but Phil seem more distressed the more he read. eventuallly he release a shaky sigh as he pass the book of to Cellbit.

Cellbit watched as he walked to a random patch of flowers, where he laid face down in the grass. Cellbit then decided to read the book but found himself horrified by the words in front of him. There was no hope to the statement made, not even a wish of good luck.

In fact if one could sum up the words in front of them, it all came down to; 'run, they're coming'. The cestal order had found them and Cellbit didn't know the first step to take. He looked over to Phil, looking for emotional support or a wise word, just.. something .

He felt panic settle in as he became awear of Phil's current state, he had completely transformed back into a large bird, lying still on the ground surrounded by Wither Roses.

Cellbit quicky rushed over to the old crow shaking him awake, Phil bealry open his eyes as he met Cellbit's gaze, Cellbit sighed in relief.

"Oh thank God, I thought the stress killed you." Cellbit admit, "I mean with the wither roses and you transforming." Phil spoke his head no, giving the younger man piece of mind. it seemed this was just Phil dealing with the sudden stress. "are you gonna be like this all day?" Cellbit inquired

Once again Phil shook no, Cellbit exhaled as he broke some of the rose so he could move closer to Phil, he leaned against his body the fluffy crow allowing himself to fall asleep. Phil decided on not waking him up and instead rest.

[talenlee]

Story Pile: Zom 100

It can be very easy to treat anime, as a presence in the media landscape, as a single unifying perspective that connects to and expresses a singular mindset that is itself directly derived from the cultural perspective of the country in which it is commonly produced, and through doing so, be seen as a voice that reduces a region of billions of people into a compressed cultural parody that we simplify in its description through the title of being orientalism. Which is to say as much as it would be fun to treat, say, the data points of Zom 100 and The Masterful Cat Is Depressed Today as if they say something about Japan as a culture and Japan’s relationship to the American concept of full time abusive labor practices that are fundamental element of capitalism, that’s at best a shorthand about trends prevailing in a few scattered examples and in no way indicative of a necessarily extrapolatable truism. It is not through any kind of greater cultural trend that these two anime completely align on how jobs are bad.

Anyway, Spoiler Warning! Talking about things in this series, though not in a lot of details. Also, this is going to be about a Zombie Apocalypse story, and that means I’m going to talk about Zombie Apocalypse stuff, which means Content Warning! This is, as the genre goes, pretty nice and doesn’t involve much sexual peril, but you might notice that ‘not much’ is not the same as ‘none.’

Good?

Good.

Zom 100: Bucket List Of The Dead is the story of Akira Tendo, who is a guy, just an ordinary guy, working a job that sucks, and then finds out that he doesn’t have to go to work tomorrow, because the world has ended, and isn’t that a relief. This is what I understand younger and cooler people call a mood, and it is a mood that permeates the opening of this story. While any given Zombie Apocalypse story tends to spend its opening grappling with the question of whether or not what’s happening is happening, Akira is a guy who doesn’t need a lot of convincing once it kicks off, and instead focuses on the very reasonable question of well, what now?

Most Zombie Apocalypse stories at this point get very dire and dangerous and immediately talk about desperation. Zom 100 instead shows him constructing a new perspective, accumulating friends, and even creating proactive plans for dealing with the Zombies in their environment, and making good on the tools that have been left around them. After all, if your entire day is free to do things like ‘travel around and enjoy yourself with whatever you can find’ you can get some industrial scale screwing around done.

Zom 100 is a single-season anime (for now) based on the simple principle that maybe the collapse of society would not be so bad if you happened to exist in a part of this society where the overall structure of society was about making your life worse. And make no mistake: The typical Zombie Apocalypse fantasy has almost always been in some way an expression of a very American Middle Class fantasy-horror mix.

Without dredging that whole conversation up, Zombies are a very popular way to express either the horror of get a load of how we’re all processed into a generic mass in a multimedia landscape, or a fantasy about how in the collapse of society, a middle class dude who cares too much about crossbows would be suddenly empowered to be the badass he’s always assumed he would wind up being. Zombie stories can be condensed into one of these two lanes and it’s often the longer form ones that inevitably become about the latter while the short form ones the former. Not a hard rule, just that it’s harder to sustain a long form narrative about how everyone is being consumed without eventually running out of stuff to consume.

Zom 100 is an interesting example of what feels like it might be in a way the latter form, where our heroes when confronted with a Zombie Apocalypse, decide the thing to do is have fun and live lives of joy that include things like helping one another, reconnecting with family, building and playing with cool toys they like. It’s… kinda embarrassing, really, to consider how simply this idea works as the spine of a story. There’s an inherent comedy to treating a zombie story as anything shy of infinitely grim, and this is one where all sorts of weird resources get considered — like scuba gear and weapons for re-enactment and of course, what value a motorbike has when you can replace the whole thing conveniently, because it doesn’t matter if it doesn’t last.

At the heart of Zom 100 is a grim murmur of a thought: That if even half the people in the world disappeared, even with the disruption to everything that ensued, the remaining population would be fine, comfortable even and in fact, bordering on pampered, just based on being able to treat the vast excess around us in all parts of our society as if they were available for people to take and to use as they needed them. We live in a society of such abundance, such depraved excess, that we could shut down production now, and a population could live the rest of their lives without discomfort, based on just these stockpiled resources.

Now, that’s all a bit Malthusian when I say it that way, but that’s not where Zom 100 seems to land on things. Zom 100 positions itself as a hopeful story, where the tension doesn’t have to get amped up too far, because the point here is not the question if who survives but rather how do we live? Individual systems of exploitation get created, in the name of ideals that they then can’t deliver, and instead, we see community triumph above all of the supposed nihilism of these spaces.

If you read all this and think ‘oh this sounds kinda low-tension,’ I mean… not really?

It’s still a zombie apocalypse story, there’s going to be gory violence and people put in danger and people get hit with pipes and eaten by zombies and characters are not armoured or protected from it just by dint of being likable. It’s just it’s also a story where zombies are treated as a threat like they are, which is slow moving inefficient hostile animals that you can be mindful of.

Good show, I liked it, and work is bad.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

[rainydawgradioblog]

Interview with Samba Jean-Baptiste

The other day I came across an article about AI bots mass-releasing auto-generated music on Spotify under different names. A concept as democratic as “unfettered access to music by way of streaming services” was bound to be corrupted by bad actors. Artists are consigned to grueling tour schedules in order to make a living because streaming pays them in Monopoly money. Pitchfork is gone and the writing is on the wall for Bandcamp, because curation is now being handled by algorithms. It’s important to keep in mind that any artist releasing music today has to navigate a culture in which there’s more out there than ever before, it's all at the tip of one’s  fingers, and everything except for the music itself is worse than it used to be. 

The topic of how the internet has shaped music came up frequently in my discussion with Samba Jean-Baptiste, an independent artist out of Brooklyn. I discovered his work after seeing Dean Blunt’s music video to “Felony” (his best song? I’m ready to make the argument), and the Algorithm decided I might like a video titled “talk / pleasure.” Behind a camera that might be a flip phone, somone offers Jean-Baptiste directions: “Wait, look off that way, and start the song. Then just start doing your shit.” The music plays and we hear Samba’s subdued voice over acoustic guitar strumming. He crosses a wide urban boulevard. All of it is easy and unforced. 

“Talk / Pleasure” was released on Cardinal, a project that’s difficult to categorize and beautiful and disarming. Jean-Baptiste chiefly uses acoustic guitar and his voice to create stripped-back art pop, as if the Young Marble Giants grew up listening to Stereolab instead of Lou Reed. The relationship between skilled yet raw guitar playing and more attuned peripheral production toes a line between an open mic performance and sound leaking from someone else’s headphones. There’s some really incredible interplay between organic and auto tuned vocals on “Windows.” The string and warped piano accompaniments on “A Wish Slanted” perfectly compliment Jean-Baptiste’s rhythmic strumming. It seems like he’s drawing from so much, because he’s had access to (and has seeked out) so much. The internet has given us windows into every corner of musical expression imaginable. If you’re an artist, how do you reckon with that, how does it find its way into your art? I didn’t want to put words in Jean-Baptiste’s mouth, so I reached out to see if he’d be interested in an interview for the Blawg. 

He was kind enough to agree back in early December; we spoke over the phone for about 40 minutes. I think he was playing Dave Bixby in the background. In addition to the internet’s impact on the music landscape, he touched on song-writing, looping, and Veeze. Hope you all enjoy it. Please, check out Cardinal on Spotify, Apple Music, Youtube, and Bandcamp (before it’s subscription based).

Can you tell me a little about yourself? 

Yeah, I’m 22, about to be 23, I live in Bedstuy, Brooklyn, I cook at a Japanese Breakfast restaurant that’s also in Brooklyn. That’s kinda what I do four days a week. I grew up in Massachusetts playing classical music, me and my sister, I played Cello, my sister played violin and we grew up playing in the Boston Symphony Orchestra. That’s where I gained a lot of interest in music, because when I wasn’t playing cello, everyone would be showing off like, what pop song [they] could play on the piano, and from there everything trailed into, you know, writing a little song about a crush or something when I was a kid. 

My family is from Haiti. That’s important to me. In middle school I used to just make beats so I was really into dubstep and a bunch of stuff on youtube. I was always big on youtube, listening to people make beats at home, and then soundcloud blew up, which gave so much access to random nooks and crannies to the country and world for that matter. Got into songwriting a little bit. Used to make a lot of different sounding stuff to now. Picked up guitar, somehow, and I guess that landed me to where I’m at now. 

Songs like “Better Now” from Cardinal feature a lot of looping. Do you find that to be a big part of your process? 

It’s funny because looping, from making beats in middle school, looping is such a big part of it. You make something, you loop it, you progress from there. But by the time I realized I could be playing actual instruments in my recordings, I still had that mentality. I’ll record something and think: “this part is great, I’m just gonna loop it.” And it doesn’t feel unethical. Cause for me, for a long time, looping other people’s music was like, “you’re going to hell, you’re not making music” but somehow my eyes have opened up and my ears have opened up to so many new ways of sound creation, rather than seeing it like “you have to create from the sound up like you’re fucking Beethoven.” You can hear something and make something out of that and that’s ok. It’s not yours, it's everyone’s. 

Looping is really interesting too because everytime you hear something or see something you can see something new about it. There’s albums I’ve listened to kajillions of times and it’s like I’m learning something new about it every listen. The same thing can happen with a simple loop, it’ll just be new information, newly perceived information each time. So yeah loops are super important to me. 

When you’re writing a song, do you have an idea of what you want the finished product to be, or does it evolve naturally over the course of the entire process?

Definitely the latter. That’s funny I was talking to my dad *today* that when I make songs, or work on an idea, I have to like make the whole song, just so that when I go back to these drafts, I can see the full blueprint. [...] It’s definitely a process. If I write a song in one sitting, I’ll kinda just… show a friend. That’s not the stuff I like releasing. 

How did Cardinal become more acoustic than your previous album, Pandora? 

It wasn’t so much a conscious decision to be like, I have to be different from the last record, but it was a conscious decision in my process. Because Pandora was made while I was still primarily recording through my laptop, and like, there’s guitar on there, but it’s all pitched up, and my voice isn’t in my natural cadence. But in the same way I realized I could use my instruments and play them in my recordings, I was like damn. That feels natural. I can also just sing in my natural low voice, I don’t have to be reaching for something that I’m not. So it sort of just trailed in that direction naturally. 

I was wondering if playing the cello made picking up guitar easier, or otherwise informs your guitar playing? You said you ���stumbled on guitar,” which sounds like a bigger undertaking than you make it out to be. 

Yeah, picking up guitar was pretty simple for me because of that knowledge, but like, there’s six strings on a guitar [compared to cello’s four], so I’ve found new ways to approach an instrument, because there’s a learning curve there. A lot of my songs, if you listen to them, it’s all the same chords, because I only know so much, and sometimes I’m fucking lazy and I know certain chords and they make me feel good enough. 

Also it's funny because some songs are written on different guitars. “I Could Have Cried” was written on a guitar with five strings (the high E is gone) because my roommate didn’t finish stringing it. The other one I got in London, that one plays “Talk/Pleasure” and “A Wish Slanted” and it has four strings because two of them snapped. Each weird situation lends itself to a new creation, which is like a huge part of my process anyway. Error is so acceptable, if not sought out. 

The stream of consciousness of it? Less premeditated? 

Right. There’s a mix too though. I love when records have noise added after cause that’s real. You can only listen to so much perfect, cookie cutter stuff.

When you were making Cardinal, were there any major songs or artists that you took inspiration from? 

Nah I had no influences, I came up with this shit. I’m playing, of course, of course, there’s so many. I feel like a lot of people are finding my music through like Dean Blunt youtube wormhole, and he’s for sure one of my big influences, like all my influences are like 30+ year old black people doing their thing. But the main influence is music that sounds like wind, water, grass, and that all relates to guitar.

I wish I had a list of my influences, cause on this record there’s a lot you know? I had a lot of people in my life showing me new things, because I’m so closed minded often. And I like to try to surround myself with people that will show me something new. A lot of inspiration is what’s new to me. 

I think wind, water, grass sums it up great. Wrapping up, would you have any recommendations for me and the good people of Rainy Dawg Radio as a whole? Movies, music, books, etc?

Hell yeah. I just finished this book called Your Love is Not Good, by Johanna Hedver… Movies? I’m still learning about movies. Two or three things I know about her. I’m into Jean Luc Godard, that slice of life stuff where nothing happens, cause it’s just like looping music to me. Music? I’ll just give you what I’ve been into recently, cause I have huge influences but they’re probably everybody’s. I’ve been listening to this song called “Tea in Bed” by Blessed and Blushing. That shit’s incredible. I’ve been listening to this song called “Everybody Knows” by Glucose. I’ve been listening to a Serge Gainsbourg record, The History of Melody Nelson. I’ve been listening to Veeze, you know, Ganger. There’s so much shit. There’s so much out there. Michael White is this great jazz violinist, I’d definitely recommend him.  Forma Norte, that guy’s incredible.

Who’s that, Forma Norte? 

Yeah, you know what’s funny is I found him on my “related artists,” online, and sometimes I find stuff I really hate through that. But sometimes I think “damn this guy’s awesome, how’s he related to me?” 

It’s so interesting to hear an artist’s perspective of their “fans also like” on Spotify. 

That first one I said, Tea in Bed by Blessed and Blushing, is just blowing my mind recently. I’m like, “who is sitting down and making this shit?,” it’s so good. And that’s what’s crazy is there’s so much music now, it’s like, is there even a point in trying to make a career out of this? No. I don’t think so. Which I think is lending itself to the best music ever, cause people are like “there’s no fucking way I’m gonna make a career out of this, I might as well just make what I want, whatever I want.” 

You used to have to deal with the label, but now everything is just, “yeah go for it.”

It’s such a blessed time in that regard, but at the same time… let me chill on that. Let’s say, Marvin Gaye, “I Want You”? We’re not getting that right now. And that’s no hate to right now.  But it’s just like that was a whole different way of living, thinking, moving, breathing you know. It’s just a whole different way of recording. 

But we’re so blessed to be able to do exactly what we want without the idea of needing to make money off it. Obviously it would be nice. But it’s unlikely so people are just making cool shit. And I’m really thankful for that. 

You can find Samba Jean-Baptiste on Instagram here and YouTube here. Once again, listen to Cardinal any way you get your music. 

[sixhours]

WIP Wednesday!

I was tagged by @tinytinymenace and @wordywarriorwrites last week for WIP Wednesday/last line and @ace-turned-confused this week. <3

I've been working on the next chapters of birthday fic. Chapter 3 decided it actually wanted to be chapter 4 so that's delayed things a bit, but the good news is I have close to 10k words between the two of them. Here's a snip from chapter 4!

~*~

They walk out of Jackson at dawn.

For four months, they’ve lived behind the protection of a steady rotation of guards and patrols and reinforced walls. Safe and sound, but Jackson is only so big, and Ellie can’t help but feel a little claustrophobic. Even if she doesn’t have to share her room with another FEDRA brat, even if there are no bodies hanging in the public square, even if Jackson smells like fresh-cut grass and woodsmoke and pine trees instead of piss.

No, Jackson is not Boston, not by a long shot. But it’s not the walls that have her feeling smothered. She’s not used to having so many people see her. Joel and Tommy and Maria and teachers and friends and neighbors; so many people who care where she is and what she’s doing and who she’s doing it with. There are rules to follow, schedules to keep, a community that expects her to contribute.

It’s fucking suffocating if she thinks about it too hard.

Today, not twenty feet outside the walls with Joel at her side, it feels like she can breathe again.

“You okay kiddo?”

“Yeah…fine. Just…it’s different than I remember.”

He blinks into the sun-drenched landscape, autumn just starting to tease the tops of the trees into a golden glow. It’s all familiar ground to him, having started patrols after a month into their stay. He leaves the compound regularly in groups of four or five and tells her about what they find at the end of his shift–not a whole hell of a lot, usually.

But today it’s just them, on foot, with a few supplies and a surprise destination of Joel’s in mind. She’s tried to harass it out of him without any luck.

“Is it…a lake?”

“Nope.”

“A racetrack?”

“Nope.”

“Is it a spaceship?”

This elicits a wry glance over his shoulder, at least. “Nope.”

“Umm…is it the ocean?”

“Kid, when was the last time you looked at a map?”

“When was the last time the maps were updated? For all you know, there could be a sea on the other side of those mountains now.”

“It ain’t the ocean, and I’m not tellin’, so you may as well stop askin’,” he says, but she knows he doesn’t really mind her questions.

~*~

Tagging ! @captainredspade @wordywarriorwrites @maggiemayhemnj @tinytinymenace @goodwithcheese and anyone else who wants to play, share your stuff if you like!

[themonsterthing]

Sunrises and Solo Polyamory

Today I met god.

I don’t normally eat breakfast, but this sweet middle-aged Italian man pushed the freshly plated bread pudding at me. It was a faintly steaming, overwhelming pile of blueberries atop a moist cake layer. A stronger man than I would have crumbled. “Try it!”

I took a bite. I died.

I came back to life, and the Italian was beaming at me. “Yes? Yes!”

This morning I woke up obnoxiously early. I am hitting that old person stage of life (at the ancient age of 36) where you get up hours before everyone else, so by dawn, you’re cranky about no one else being ready to do anything. So I laid in bed, read a chapter of my book, and decided to go find the sunrise. I wandered a pre-dawn empty pier, stumbled upon some enthusiastic elder humans (see? my people) splashing into the freezing water in the fog, their little brightly coloured buoys bobbing after, the only signs they ever existed in this ethereal landscape, before I went to treat myself to sugary caffeine at a nearby bakery.

Bakers, swimmers, and photographers: sacrificing the comfort of a warm bed for our joy in life.

I left heaven clutching a to-go container of pure joy and one perfect hazelnut latte, and drove to the top of the mountain to eat it and watch the fog roll in.

And this, my friends, is why I identify as solo polyamorous.

Solo polyamory is an oft misunderstood branch of non-monogamy. It does not mean I am single but polyamorous — which is often how it is used, even by those who should know better. No, what it means is that, no matter what, I come first. Well, let’s be real, it’s my cat, my art, and then me. The definition of solo polyamory is that our first partner — our “primary” — is ourselves. Even when entangled, we come first.

This does not mean you’re not responsible for your emotions and how they affect others. To be a good human means community, and care. It does not mean I always prioritize my own needs. I am really good at empathy, at compromise. It just means that in considering how I interact with others, I negotiate from that framework.

What that looks like, in my life, is that I live without a partner, and while that may change eventually, I don’t want it to currently. And if I did, I would always need my own bedroom. Why?

Because I want the ability to wake up at 5am, read a chapter of my current book, then decide I want to go watch the sunrise — without worrying about someone in bed next to me. My cat may grumble, but he grumbles whenever I’m not in bed with him. (He’s pretty codependent.)

I want to prioritize sunrises, books, adventures, my cat.

Does it mean I don’t want to wake up next to my loved ones? Not at all. I do. I love it. But instead, I don’t want to take it for granted. I don’t want to get so comfortable, to expect their presence, that when they do choose to sleep over, my priority becomes cuddling up with them. I want my moments with them to be intentional, to be important. The trade off is not getting comfortable and lazy with a person because you know where they’ll be most nights. But that is a trade I find desirable.

I want the interactions in my relationships to be an active choice.

This is a choice I make because of trauma, I know that. Does it make it wrong? No. It is right — for me. Is it your choice? I have no idea, I’m not you. But I hope whatever you choose is healthy for you.

I want sunrises without worrying I’m disturbing my bed mate. I want to listen to music at midnight. I want to go alone to the museum, to wander undisturbed — unless I choose to do it with a companion. And then I get the joy of their presence being a choice, being intentional. I will never take it for granted, because I know it was not a given. I had to reach out, schedule, organize time with them.

It takes more effort, but that is an effort I want to give my humans. And if I need to have a quiet day with someone, where we just sit next to each other in comfortable silence, I can have that too — I just have to ask.

I am not saying it is not possible to find someone perfectly aligned, who would give you comfortable lazy mornings, and wild adventures. I just don’t want that. I don’t want just one. I want wildly different brains, different perspectives, different ideas, different backstories. And thus, polyamory.

The beauty of polyamory, of the way I live my life in general, is that no one person fills all my slots. And so it means I have a lot of room for everyone to find their own niche. Some, it’s sitting quietly. Some, it’s laughing forever over stupid internet jokes. Others, it’s wild sex. Some fill a lot of slots — I often have partners who are sex, love, friendship, adventure — but maybe not art. Maybe not getting excited by plants. I want everyone to flourish in a way that feels best to them, and authentic to our relationship. I am a wildly varied human — I have lots of space for others. And so when I have a space I feel longing for, I reach out to a friend who might fill that need.

Conversely, my friends know the spaces I can take up; the spaces I avoid. I am not your bar friend, but I am your ocean friend. I am not your gossip friend, but I am here for deep conversations at 2am about the meaning of life.

So I choose scheduling over comfort, over ease. I choose to make a lot of effort, I choose to have a deep love affair with my calendar. I choose intention. I choose sunrises, and delicious blueberry bread, and delighted bakers.

(Originally published on Medium, this is the sunrise I found.)

[yunarim]

our rainbow-coloured days will advance forward, so shine forever

❤︎ summary : Yuuka, a completely ordinary magicless girl, finds herself in an incomprehensible predicament. Soulmates appeared in the human world only a few decades ago and still have many inconsistencies, but Yuuka's case, to her dismay, becomes rather unprecedented.

Apparently, her soulmate is waiting for her somewhere beyond this world. ❤︎ tags : female reader, soulmates, reader is yuu, sfw, fluff, pining in some chapters, one character = one soulmate prompt ❤︎ ao3

ִ    ꕤ Light and Daffodils | Jade Leech

⏤ . . . prompt : soulmates have each other’s eye color and see everything in shades of that color  ⏤

Yuuka’s going to be a marvelously talented artist someday, keep that in mind, once said Yuuka’s art teacher.

She enjoyed peaceful evenings where she would find herself standing lost in thoughts in front of an easel, deciding which color palette she should use today to entertain her imagination. Little splash of water in the cup, shapeless stains from a riot of colors rolled out on the surface, while a splendid landscape unfolded on the easel. 

Everyone praised her as a prodigy in arts. And maybe she really was, but a glimpse of sadness always remained in her works, as if ink stains accidentally dropped on the completed art, not exactly ruining her efforts, but rather inverting them into something unpredictable, erasing her original intention. 

Academic painting was her prerogative, something she was proud of. Strictly aligned strings formed architectural wonders, perfectly straight lines looked as if being calculated in some sort of a computer program. 

Despite showing an excellent performance in academic painting , fine arts and especially landscape painting stood athwart in her list of achievements.

“Now, mix blue and red.”

She was twelve by the time she realized that both blue and red were undefined for her. How did blue contradicted red? What kind of result would she expect to witness after mixing two colors?

“Before you do it, tell what color you will get in your opinion.” 

No matter how she tried mixing them, experimenting with the amount of paint, with sequencing, with adding too much water or adding just a little, maybe even adding none, but in the very end it appeared irrelevant. 

“I’m sorry, teacher, I don’t get the color.”

She did see the world in two particular colors she didn’t know the names of. Despite teachers’ attempts at trying to explain to her which color is which and how to imagine it she still couldn’t bring herself to figure it out. Was the water deep blue or light green? And how do people divide shades and hues? What was darker and what was lighter ⏤ oh, she didn’t see it coming, bewailing the fact she couldn’t understand colors, a huge part of human being’s life.

All in all, living with world perception divided into only two shades Yuuka couldn’t even describe wasn’t something lamenting for a long time worthy in her eyes.

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

“So, every dorm has its own representative color. Which one do you prefer the most by color, Yuuka?”

Trey was describing the NRC dormitory system to her quite politely and in much detail, while she listened, nodding in order to show she hasn’t lost her concentration. Ace and Deuce threw curious glances at her, as if hinting she better choose Heartslabyul as her fave.

“Oh,” she forced a smile. “I prefer not to be biased in such things as colors. Your dorms were based on outstanding individuals’ personality traits, if I were to choose, then I would dwell on such matters instead.”

 “Woah, being quite a thoughtful young lady, are you?” Cater flashed her a smile, giggling. “Alright, what’s your bias for now?”

“Heartslabyul obvi,” Ace added, chuckling. “I mean girl, you’ve been hanging out with us for such a long time I already consider you my another sibling.” 

“Nice try,” Yuuka smirked, actually admitting Heartslabyul guys helped her a lot, not to mention the ADeuce duo who she adored the most. “But actually…”

“No, don’t say it if it isn’t us, I’m not in the mood of having a heartbreak today!” Deuce complained. 

“#Heartbroken #Yuuka_to_the_betrayal #Friendship_ruined… And sent. That’s it, Yuuka-chan!” Cater put a lot of crying emojis to emphasize how woeful it was. 

She shrugged it off, but laughing even still, genuinely enjoying their reactions and feeling herself purely loved by her friends, a warm gentle sensation blooming in her chest.

“As much as I adore you, gotta be honest here. Octavinelle piqued my interest…”

Suddenly Yuuka felt something heavy perched on her shoulders, making her gasp and startle, almost dropping the sandwich she was eating. She tilted her head, turning to her peacebreaker. 

“How sweet of you to say such thing, Little Shrimpie~”

A tall boy was hugging Yuuka… no, rather than a simple hug that felt like a firm squeeze instead, and as much as she enjoyed hugging and being hugged, that was a little too much. She moved, so a stranger boy could sit beside her, and he did just so, not letting go of her and enjoying the way her body felt in his arms. Squishy and nice, what a cute shrimp!

“And you are?” Ace gave the new boy a questioning look, not really appreciating him hugging his best friend so nonchalantly as if they were childhood friends or something. 

“Meh, what’s with your reaction, Crabby. I’m Floyd.”

Not satisfied with something that couldn’t even be named as an introduction, Ace clicked on his tongue and noticed how unbothered Yuuka was, occupied with observing the guy’s face instead of actually listening.

“Floyd Leech, the second-year student from Octavinelle,” Trey gave an introduction instead, and Yuuka finally pulled off from his tight grip on her. “Although usually he can be seen with his brother and Azul.”

“Jade’s off to help Azul today at the Lounge, something urgent came up.”

“Doesn’t that mean you need to help them too?..” Trey suggested. 

“Nah, not feeling like it,” Floyd brushed it off, sighing. “They’re doing boring stuff while you’re having fun with such cute Little Shrimpie! Besides, she kinda looks like me.”

“How come?” she asked, tilting her head.

“Your eye color, Shrimpie~ Don’t you see yours and mine are quite similar?”

Yuuka shivered as he said it so casually. So their eyes are similar? She knew her own eyes were colored differently, one was quite of a darker tone than another, and yet how colors worked was still a mystery veiled in a fata morgana.

“Oh Sevens, do you actually come from our world, Yuuka-chan?” Cater gasped dramatically. “Do you go by the Leech surname?”

A little strained laugh escaped her lips as she really wondered, what shades on the palette would she choose to draw herself?

“Maybe Shrimpie was our long ago lost sister, hehe!” Floyd cupped her face in his hands, large palms covering her cheeks and poking it slightly, sparkles of amusement glimmering in his eyes of unknown color. 

“Indeed, identical twins are supposed to have almost no differences, but Jade has different eye color…” Trey said, noticing how Yuuka jolted at his statement. “Ah, sorry, Yuuka, I’m just joking.”

“No, no, it’s okay, I was just surprised… You know, what a coincidence, huh?.. Ha-ha… ha.”

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

Jade wondered if he was even Floyd’s real brother just once in his whole lifetime. 

An itching feeling in his left eye occurred once he was trying to persuade someone. The day his unique magic was discovered he realized there was something wrong. 

Sea waters always struck with their pristine pulchritude, such a magnificent scenery unfolding before Jade, never failing to daze him. Obscure to him was the fact the scenery, the sea, the world itself was trapped in one color. Although Jade seemed to entertain the thought he loved that pretty shade the world was devoured in. 

How fancy was it to realize that it wasn’t just sea waters which were inveigled in one particular hue. Human lands weren’t the exception, also possessing the same color he was percepting his whole life.

“Your eyes are disgusting, never speak to me again, you monster.”

People tend to say peculiar things when they’re facing the truth, even if forcefully. 

Jade himself acted rather amusing when he figured out he was different from Floyd. His eyes. Floyd was often told he looks scary with those two-colored eyes of his, while Jade was referred to as calm, collected and sometimes even welcoming.

Wasn’t it curious?..

No mountain could entertain him as much as soulmates phenomena did. Merfolks usually have something attached to their voice when human beings possess a wide variety of bond shapes, having fun with guessing how to trace their soulmates and finally meet their kindred spirits. Ah, curious indeed. 

But then again, he had a life of his own to maintain, and searching for a soulmate wasn’t his top priority until Floyd showed up in a giddy mood, his interest index escalating rapidly to the stars. 

 “Jade!!~ Go see Shrimpie!”

“Not so appropriate wording choice, Floyd,” Jade sighed, checking out consignment notes once more. “I haven’t encountered her yet to see a young human lady so casually. Besides,” he chuckled, an obscure smile on his face.

“Whaaat!”

“Why would I?”

“Don’t be boring, Jade! You just have to see her eyes.”

Little did Floyd know that Jade couldn’t even guess her eye color. 

“Her eyes are the same color as mine! It’s so cool, she’s like our human sister, hehe~~”

Jade flinched, but Floyd hardly noticed, more being carried away by talking about his new friend. Wouldn't that make her rather entertaining in that case?..

“Interesting how we have a sister from another world then.”

“So you are curious about her if you know she’s not from our world~”

Avoiding admitting it would be just suspicious at this rate, Jade thought and sighed in defeat, nodding slightly. 

Yuuka did piqued his interest. 

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

Jade didn’t intend to encounter Yuuka like that, being dragged into Mostro Lounge due to Ace and Deuce shenanigans and not enjoying the thought of making a deal with Azul after hearing not so pleasant things about pacts with him. 

And yet maybe such a prompt was the most suitable for them to meet.

His attire was stunning and neat, his hair arranged in a pretty way, and the color of the world was especially beautiful today as if hinting at something peculiar to happen.

Yuuka entered their establishment, all furious and obviously not in the mood of meeting someone predestined today, but genuinely tried to collect her thoughts and regain composure, clearing her throat and seeing Jade coming her way.

“Welcome, dear customer,” he bowed at her, trying to ignore the rapidly increasing heart rate he was denying. “How can I be of help?”

Jade straightened up and looked her straight in the eyes. It was as if a shock wave went through his body, knocking the ground out from under his feet and pushing all the air out of his lungs, forcing him to open his mouth in surprise, mirroring Yuuka, who was also confused and dazed by what was happening.

A great variety of colors erupted before their eyes, filling the world with a kaleidoscope of stunning hues and forcing them to unconsciously blink rapidly at the unaccustomed sensations. 

“I…” Yuuka spoke quietly despite the unimaginably large number of people in the establishment, the world seemed to have shrunk to just the two of them, leaving the rest of the people in silent mode. “Wait…”

“Huh…” 

Jade never felt so surprised in his life. Who knew the world was such a breathtaking sight to witness all along… 

“Y-your eyes…” her lips trembled in excitement. “They’re so marvelously beautiful.”

For the first time in his life Jade saw someone crying while stating such an absurd thing.

Was he even better at this point, trying to cover his watery-eyes and appreciating her own, extraordinarily lovely eyes? 

A deal with Azul was left long forgotten that day.

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

“Damn, girl, never knew you were an artist!” 

Ace stared at her painting in awe, amazed by the astonishing dance of colors on her painting, as she smiled genuinely.

Jade bended down to her, his face close to hers, corners of his lips twitching in delight. 

“Have you decided how’d you name it?” Deuce asked, trying to not point out how exceedingly sweet she was behaving with Jade around her.

“Yes,” she answered confidently, making her final brush stroke and turning to Jade behind her.

“Olive green and Summer Daffodil.”

She smiled, looking straight into Jade’s eyes before pressing a light kiss on the corner of his lips and giggling softly. 

Jade caressed her cheek gently, admiring how beautifully her eyes shimmered in the dancing sun rays, the whole world turning into a colorful palette with one look at her. 

“Get a room, you two, that’s so lame!!”

“Aw, don’t whine because you can’t handle how cute we are!~”

“Not only lame, but also cringe.”

"At least you guys haven't experienced your brother getting his eye color back and becoming absolutely identical!"

"You two are incredibly different!!"

Jade watched them fighting a little, then turned to the painting, looking at his portrait she drew, his vision not monocolored anymore, and thought,

his eyes, their shades. Olive green and Summer Daffodil. What a lovely sight to witness, indeed.

❤︎ notes :

song : light and daffodils - lee ho san & lee hyun jin

jade got me jskdajfhuisyhrwihsd so here i am, simping shamelessly sry for not posting for a while, i was busy having a fever, but here i am, alive and kicking, i'm back!!!

© yushiiae 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧.